#doctor gregory house x reader smut

[thenerdiestwizard]

Reward.

Pairing: university professor!Gregory House x AFAB!reader

Summary: you are in your fourth year of university, ready to leave in less than a few months and get your medical degree finally - But what happens when you've fallen in love with your biology professor?

TW: smut, fluff, age gap (reader is in her 20s, house is in his late 40s), soft!house (maybe even ooc!house), pet names like "pretty girl", literal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) , softdom!house, subby!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, nipple play if you squint.

Word count: 4.5k words.

a/n: Omg this is my first fanfic ever and I'm so freaking nervous 😭. Anyways, hope you like it, and please forgive me if there are some mistakes, English isn't my first language. Feel free to leave suggestions and recommendations to improve my writing <3

"You like him! I KNEW IT!!" F/N yelled.

You have been in love with your biology professor since the first year you entered in that university. You couldn't keep your mind off him. And that professor was Dr House, an arrogant, cocky, and selfish man.

Although you knew he didn't like you the same way- at least that's what you thought.- You simply couldn't ignore him, you were truly infatuated by him since you met him.

In his class, you always did everything you could to get the best grades, always doing his works on time and even some extra works too, even if you already had a high grade.

You wanted your professor to be proud of you, to hear him tell you how good you had done - even if it wasn't genuine.

But deep down you knew that moment wasn't gonna come, knowing you weren't enough for him.

"F/N, can you please close the door?" You muttered, looking down ashamed.

Your friend giggled and nodded, getting up to close the door and jumping back to your bed.

"Sooo... Dr House it is?" F/N teased, smirking.

You looked away, blushing slightly and sighing, then nodding defeated. "How did you find out? I thought nobody would notice." You asked confused.

F/N friend looked at you with a poker face. "Me? How did I find out? I'd be worried if I didn't! The looks you give him are enough to tell you're enamoured by him!" F/N tells you.

"Is it that obvious?" You sighed, hiding your face in your hands, clearly ashamed of yourself.

Now you were afraid that if F/N found out without telling her, your professor may know it already.

Your friend softened his expression, grabbing your hands and parting them away before hugging you.

You hugged her back.

"Don't worry Y/N... I don't think he knows, he prolly thinks that you're just being nice to him." F/N said, comforting you.

You nodded and hugged her tightly, thinking about him.

You thought about your interactions in the past years. Have you been subtly about your crush or not? Maybe he knows, or maybe he doesn't.

You've been the only one to make his little extra works, only for the little smile he gave you when you gave him the work. You tried your best really. But despite the fact that you got the highest grade always, you didn't think it was enough for him.

Maybe he could have noticed the looks you give him when he's sitting on that damned chair behind that damned desk, completely distracted by his form, his voice, by him. Thinking about how you wished to be trapped between him and that desk, about having the courage to tell him how you feel.

But you couldn't do that.

You were a shy person, always quiet and well behaved. That's why you think your professor hasn't told you many rude things like he did to the others, and how he looked at you when he gave you your exam, a sincere smile crawling into his face.

But you thought that the way he was towards you was out of pure kind. You knew that deep down he was a kind person. You had always thought that, even when he yelled at you or insulted you when you didn't get the correct answer, looking at you after with a regretful look you didn't notice because of your head looking down with shame.

So you didn't got your hopes up. Telling yourself that he was like that with everyone, that he was your professor with many more years than you.

Telling yourself that he didn't view you as more as a student, that you weren't going to have nothing with him because you were a child for him.

Your friend said goodbye to you, leaving you alone with your thoughts in your apartment.

Tomorrow started the last semester of the year, meaning that your little week of holidays was over.

But you weren't nervous about that, you were nervous about seeing him.

You woke up groggily, looking at your alarm, which told you that it was already late.

You quickly got up and went to have a shower, then going to your room and dressing nicely, subtly wanting to impress your professor. Then you went to drink a quick coffee and a toast, running to the bathroom when you finished eating. You brushed your teeth, brushed your hair and after that, you put on your shoes and got your backpack, picking up your keys before putting on some cologne and leaving.

Now you were in your biology class, the bell just rang and you were glad Dr House wasn't there yet. Your friend was at your left, teasing you about your outfit choice, whispering about your little crush.

She had told you that she was suspicious about it for a very long time, meaning that she knew much before she told you.

You couldn't believe it, sighing when you looked at her and telling yourself that it was going to be okay, but deep inside very nervous.

That feeling didn't go when he came into the class, limping like always.

Nobody said anything, afraid he was going to answer with some mean thing.

For some reason you couldn't look him in the eyes, fidgeting with your hands when he sat down and started talking about something you couldn't make up because you were too entranced in your thoughts.

You didn't notice the class ended when the bell rang. It was the last class you had that day, and people were starting to leave.

You started to pack your things up when you heard the voice of your professor.

"Y/N, come here." House demanded, a stern tone lacing his voice.

You nodded, still looking down and not knowing what to do, cursing yourself internally when you got closer to him.

"Yes, Dr House?" You said with a shy tone, it was the first time you looked at him in the whole day.

A warm feeling taking over your body when you noticed the distance between the two of you.

"Have you done drugs?" House asked.

"What? No?" You were shocked and confused.

"You weren't yourself today." He stated. "I wanted to know why, you can't lower those grades..." He said, a hint of disappointed in his voice.

You looked down, sad he only cared about your grades.

"N-nothing, just didn't sleep very well... That's all." You mumbled, looking up at him again, one of your hands going to scratch the back of your neck uncomfortably.

He nodded, looking at you sternly. "Get some rest then." He said coldly, grabbing his cane and leaving you alone in the classroom.

You picked up your things and left, not knowing what to think, a pang of sadness in your chest.

The next day arrived, so did the next, and finally, the day before the final exam arrived.

You've been working pretty hard, pushing yourself to the edge to give the best of you.

Dr House didn't say anything else to you after that day, not even a mean comment - but you didn't think of it.

The weeks before were plagued by works, and exams of other subjects, so you didn't sleep very well, but still you managed to try and not make your favorite professor disappointed.

That biology exam was the last one you had before your graduation, and it was the one you cared about the most. You started to study for it when there was no exam date, wanting to get the best grade and prove your value to him, and for him to finally praise you.

Now you were studying in your apartment, one day before the exam. You had studied everything, even the things that you weren't supposed to study.

Closing the book and your notes, you went to sleep, wishing for the best.

The next day you woke up and you got prepared like always, this time with a nervous feeling.

The hour of the exam came, and surprisingly, you finished the first one. Giving your exam to your professor with a little smile on your face, feeling proud of yourself for filling all of the answers.

But he didn't look at you, like he didn't care.

You left the class without saying a word, a few tears slipping down your cheeks.

Then, the last day of university arrived.

F/N and you had already bought your dresses for the graduation party that night. She bought a pretty yellow dress, while you bought a red one.

You woke up that day, still having school hours in the morning, you dressed up nicier than normal with a skirt and a blouse that accentuated your figure, and went to class.

Every professor was wishing you and your class a good graduation and saying goodbye to all of you, telling how good you would do in life and blah blah blah...

While everyone was tearing up and excited for leaving university, you were excited for seeing Dr House.

You had biology class that day, the last class of the day.

And it arrived, finally.

"Good morning guys." House said coming into the class, a stern tone in his voice like always.

The class was silent like always.

"Well..." He started. "Today we don't have nothing to talk about." He said looking up at all of you.

You were pretty nervous, you didn't receive your biology test still, and you were dying to know your grade.

He looked at everyone in the class, his eyes lingering on your figure more than they should.

But you didn't notice that, too busy thinking about your grade and fidgeting with your hands.

"All I can say, it's that..." He trailed. It sounded genuine, like he didn't want to say something mean.

"You've all done a good job." He said, grabbing his cane and looking down, like he was ashamed of saying something nice.

House lifted his cane and pushed it down again, making a thud noise.

"You can come and check your grade, then you can leave." He said, getting next to the pile of exams he had brought in.

Your friend looked at you smiling before going to check her grade.

Everyone has left the class already, leaving you and your professor alone.

You were the last.

"Y/N." He called, looking up at your frame.

Nervously you got up and approached him. Not daring to say anything, you looked down, fidgeting with the ends of the skirt you were wearing.

You could notice his stare, making you more and more nervous.

Finally, you looked at him, waiting for him to give you your exam.

"Here you go." He said, his voice still serious.

You got a 100%, a perfect grade.

But you didn't care about the grade really, you only wanted to see his face, to see if he was proud of you.

You looked up at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Well done, princess." House said, a smirk crawling onto his face when he saw how he caught you off guard, turning you into a blushing mess.

You looked at him confused, your face still all red at the sudden praise.

"P-princess?" You stuttered, looking up at his piercing blue eyes.

"I thought that's what you wanted, for me to praise you." He said smirking.

You were shocked. You looked down, blushing even more, not wanting to assume anything in front of him.

He grabbed the exam from your hands and put it on the desk. "You're the only one who strives herself like that in my subject." He says, his voice dropping lower. "Always wanting to be the best in class, turning your works in time..." He inched closer.

"Did you think that because you're quiet I wouldn't notice?" He grabbed your chin, making you look at him. "You do extra works you don't need to do, knowing you have a high grade already." He chuckled.

Your lips started to tremble, afraid he was gonna get angry at you.

"Aw, poor girl... Don't worry... I like you too." House whispered in your ear, his breath on your neck.

You didn't think he would say that, the tears that were already starting to slip from your eyes stopping, your breath hitching.

"W-What?" You asked, your voice trembling.

"You heard me pretty girl." He said, getting away from your neck and looking at you in the eyes, a sincere look on his face. "Am I wrong about anything I said?"

You looked away, blushing. "N-no..."

His smirk got bigger inching closer to you.

"So all this time you really did all of this because you wanted me to praise you? To call you a good girl?" He asked, turning you around so now you were trapped against the desk and him.

You nodded pathetically, clenching your thighs together at the sight of his frame on top of yours.

He laughed, suddenly kissing your forehead in a soothing way.

You blushed even more, hiding your face in his chest in an attempt to hide your blushing face.

House chuckled again.

"Didn't know you were such a sucker for me under all that quiet girl mask..." He teased before suddenly grabbing your thighs and putting you on top of the desk.

You quickly looked away, not bearing how close he was to you.

He got closer to you, settling himself between your legs.

The pool of arousal between your legs was sure noticeable, your pussy clenching around nothing.

You dared to look at him, soft eyes looking at his blue ones.

"D-Dr House..." You stammered, not knowing how to start.

If this was leading somewhere you wanted to know if he really wanted you how you wanted him.

"Greg, call me Greg." He said softly, his hand going to put a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled softly at this.

"D-do you really like me?" You asked nervously.

He smiled, getting closer to you and finally kissing you softly, making you gasp in the kiss.

Pulling away he looked at you, it was the first time you saw him like that, so vulnerable.

"Haven't you noticed?" He mumbled. "I've been ogling you all these years..." He continues. "Trying so hard not to snap at you, to tell you how much I've wanted you." He sighed, looking away.

His brows were furrowed, a serious expression on his face telling you that he was serious.

"I'm in love with you Y/N." House admitted. "I know I-Im your professor and all that things but I'm in love with you, and I think you're old enough to choose if you want to be with me." He said "I'm not into younger women but... You have something, you're so desperate to get my approval." He chuckles softly. "And you didn't give up huh? Even in your last exam you tried your best... " He looked at you.

You were flustered by now, your thighs clenching around his waist.

"You've been nothing but kind to me." He trailed off. "I guess you really are into me mhm? Although I tried to push you away saying mean things to you, you never said anything..." He added.

His hands going to grab your waist this time.

You whimpered at his touch. Rough hands against soft skin.

"I-I wanted to be y-your favorite..." You slipped up, his hands caressing your sides.

He laughed at this, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Guess you got what you wanted mhm?" House teased, his lips getting closer to yours again, inches away.

You needed him, but you didn't know what to do. After all this time, you had him like you wanted, but you never thought your fantasies would happen.

"Cat got your tongue?" He whispered, his lips grazing against yours.

You shook your head softly, putting your hands on his chest.

House kissed you again, this time it was a heated kiss. Your hands gripping his shirt, and your hips grinding against his clothed bulge. His hands going to grab your ass, pushing you harder against him.

Moans spilling from your mouth at the friction, groans spilling from his.

Pulling away from the kiss he started to kiss your neck.

"So good for me..." He praised between kisses. "So pretty."

You whimpered at his praises, bucking your hips in an attempt to gain more friction. Getting out a groan from House he mumbled against your skin. "Pretty girl needs his professor's cock?" You whined at him. "Don't worry, you're gonna get it..." He trailed off, his right hand going down your body, nestling in your thighs.

"But first we gotta have you prepared mhm? Want it to fit..." House mumbled, his hand going between your thighs now, his fingers caressing your pussy over your wet panties.

You moaned when he rubbed your clothed clit.

"So wet and needy..." He chuckled, finally taking off your panties. "Is this all for me mhm?" He said, his finger gliding over your wet pussy lips, collecting your arousal.

"Y-yes professor!" You moaned out, your hips bucking up against his fingers, wanting to feel more of him.

He smirked. "You've been so good for me..." He started, his fingers going up and down, teasing your entrance. "My best student... My favorite one." He said, chuckling when you moaned at his words, bucking your hips again. "I think you deserve a reward..." He said deeply.

Finally he pushed one finger into your cunt, starting to move it slowly watching your every move.

"G-greg." You whined, he tilted his head, humming. "Yes?" House asked. "M-more please..." You pleaded.

Laughing at your request, he pushed another finger inside, curling them just to hit the right spot.

Moaning loudly at the sudden shock of pleasure, your hands went to grab the edges of the desk tightly.

"Is this what you wanted mhm?" Your professor mumbled, his voice dripping with lust. His fingers moving faster by the second.

You nodded desperately. "Y-yes! W-wanted y-you since I saw you..." You said between moans. Your face was flushed.

"Yeah?... Me too darling." Smirking, he fastened his fingers even more. Your orgasm getting closer. "Wanted you since you talked to me the first time." He whispered to you. "I've been wanting you all these years." He mumbled in your neck.

"Always being so well behaved... Even after I called you a slut for wearing those outfits." His words sending you over the edge, making you moan his name loudly. "G-greg!"

A few groans slipped from his lips, bucking his hips against the desk to try to gain some friction. "F-fuck, I love it when you moan my name like that." House groaned in your ear.

Coming down from your orgasm he got his fingers out, and got on his knees. "Need to taste you." He mumbled before lifting your skirt enough to grab your ass and pull you to the edge of the desk.

Your professor got his face closer to your cunt. Feeling his hot breath made you shiver.

House looked up before licking a stripe up your pussy, making wet sounds.

You whimpered at this, grabbing the desk tighter.

"I love the sounds you make..." He mumbled before licking another stripe, wanting to hear you moan for him again.

You throwed your head when he started to suck on your clit. "F-fuuuck p-professor~" You moaned, making him groan against your clit, sending vibrations and making you moan even more.

"You taste like heaven." He said, getting away from your clit.

You whimpered at his words.

His tongue went to your cunt, licking it up and down, to then start to suck on your clit again.

Your orgasm was building again, moaning when you finally came all over his mouth.

He moaned against your clit, and you noticed he had been bucking his hips against the desk again. "Good girl..." He groaned.

After House rode your orgasm out, he got away from your cunt, getting up.

You catched your breath after your second orgasm.

"P-Please wait a minute." You stuttered breathing heavily.

He chuckled. "Can't handle more?"

"Yes!" You replied almost instantly. "I-Its just that... I-im a virgin." You confessed, a wave of shame coming over you, making you look away.

House didn't say anything and grabbed your chin, making you look at him.

He smiled softly and kissed you.

"We don't have to do anything If you don't want to..." He whispered softly looking into your eyes.

"I want to." You said, looking at him. "I-I trust you."

He nodded. "Okay princess." He said, grabbing your legs and spreading them.

House stopped and looked at you. "Do you have a condom?"

You shook your head. "I'm on the pill."

He nodded, his hands going to unzip his  pants.

"G-greg." You muttered, your hands going to grip at his shirt. "Want to touch you..." You mumbled.

He chuckled at you. "Can't get enough huh?" Once he unzipped his pants, he started to unbutton his shirt, his upper body now visible.

"Take off your shirt." He said. "It's only fair if I get to see those perfect tits of yours too." He whispered smirking.

With a faint blush on your face, you took off your shirt, throwing it somewhere in the classroom. Then you took off your bra, looking away shamefully.

It took you off guard when House took both off your tits on his hands, massaging them. You whimpered softly at this, your hips bucking with need again.

"What a pair of perfect tits, so round and soft..." He said, looking at you with desire.

"P-Please p-professor..." You begged, wanting to have him inside.

"Needy girl." He teased. One of his hands going to free his cock. Once he got it out you got to see it, big and veiny, and hard as a rock. "But don't worry, I am too." He whispered.

He spreaded your legs wider, and pushed your skirt higher so he could have more access to your cunt.

"You ready?" He said, you nodded.

He aligned the tip on your cunt, entering slowly.

You sighed, feeling him entering inside you.

"Fuck you're tight." He groaned, one hand on his dick and the other on your tight.

He pushed harder, entering halfway.

You whimpered, you felt a pang of pain and of pleasure at the same time.

"I'm halfway there." He said, pushing harder so now he was full inside you.

A tear ran down your cheek at the pain.

He saw you, and cleaned it with his thumb.

"I'm not gonna move until you tell me to." He reassured.

You nodded. Waited a few seconds till the pain faded and became pleasure.

"Y-you can move." You told him.

He nodded and started moving his hips, groaning at your tightness.

You moaned, bucking your hips wanting even more.

"P-Please faster G-greg..." You whispered softly.

He chuckled, his face getting closer to yours and his hands going to grab your legs, putting them around his waist.

"Wanted this for so long." He whispered in your ear. His hips moving faster, making you moan. "You d-don't know how m-much I've had to control m-myself." He said between thrusts, groans and deep moans falling from his lips. "When you came into c-class with these skirts, or when y-you wore those low cut shirts.. I-I wanted nothing but to bend y-you over the desk.."

You clenched around him at his words.

He moaned at this. "Y-yes! Clench like that a-around me, fuck..."

You supported yourself on the desk, your body trembling because of the pleasure.

He began to kiss your neck while pounding into you.

"I can't believe I'm t-the first one who g-got to see you like this." He mumbled in your neck.

"I-I've kept myself for y-you." You moaned between thrusts.

He groaned at your words, pounding into you harder. Your orgasm waving over you when he hit that spot, making you clench around him.

"Y-yess! Fuck s-so perfect my pretty girl mhm?" He moaned against your neck.

He kept thrusting into you, his mouth going to suck on your nipples.

"My favorite g-girl mhm so pretty." He said lost in pleasure. Pulling away from your nipples he got closer to your mouth, kissing you.

His thrusts kept getting faster and harder, moans coming from both of you now.

"W-what a good girl..." He groaned against your neck. "Letting your p-professor be the one t-to ruin you like this...f-fuck." House moaned in your ear.

"I-Im your g-good girl?" You whimpered to him.

He grabbed your ass, pushing you even closer to him. "H-hell yes y-you are, you've always b-been." He groaned against your skin. "Always p-pleasing me..." He moaned. "You deserve a-a reward huh?"

You nodded, tears forming in your eyes because of your fourth orgasm getting closer. 

"G-getting closer again? C-come on, cum all over my c-cock like the good girl y-you are..." He groaned in your ear. His thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

His words making you finally come, moaning his name like a prayer while you threw your head back and clenched around him. "G-greg!"

"F-Fuck! Y-Y/N, g-gonna fill this pretty p-pussy up." He moaned deeply into your ear, giving one final thrust and coming inside of you. Your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

After coming down from your orgasms, he pulled out, cum leaking from your cunt.

You whimpered at the feeling of not having him inside you. He chuckled.

Heavy breaths coming from you both, you didn't know what to say.

"Lets get you dressed up." He said, first putting on his boxers and zipping up his pants.

He grabbed the shirt that you threw earlier, your bra and your panties, then he gave them to you.

He dressed up too, buttoning his shirt and grabbing his cane.

You dressed up, and when you tried to get off the desk, you fell down.

He laughed softly, grabbing you for support.

"Twins!" He joked. You laughed at this.

He smiled softly when he heard you laugh.

"I meant it." He said.

"What?" You asked.

"What I said earlier about me loving you." He mumbled looking away.

"R-really?" You said looking at him, he confirmed that he loved you, and you couldn't believe it.

He nodded. "Then what?" House looked at you.

"I do w-want to be with you." You whispered to him, a faint blush appearing over your face.

He smiled again, getting closer to your face and kissing you sweetly.

"I love you Y/N." He mumbled against your lips.

You smiled at him. "I love you too Greg."

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

[crucifiedramblings]

Fool Me Once — Dr. Gregory House x F!Reader (Part I)

Hello! This is my first Gregory House fic, I've been truly obsessed with this old man recently. No warnings for this chapter (edit: mention of pill abuse), but I will list full work warnings below.

Word Count: 789

Content Warnings: Angst, implied/referenced drug use & addiction, eventual smut, swearing, graphic depictions of medical gore

Next Part: N/A

            

The pills hadn’t been in House’s system for a few days— he would have to rebuild his Vicodin tolerance again. Nothing like a “V-Break” to get the same hazy punch as before— the name could use some work, though. House lazily looked at you through heavily-lidded eyes, his head dipping to the side to look at his own vitals on the small monitor to the right of his bedside.

            You had only been on House’s diagnostic team for a few days when he collapsed in the middle of a briefing. His toxicity screen showed a spike in narcotic levels, and you flushed his system while he was out. He argued that it was doing more harm than good, but you replaced the chemical with comfort medications until he had clean blood. Once it ran clear, and he was no longer dying— you practically spoon-fed his Vicodin right to him. 

            Maybe it was the sympathy— no, empathy— of being a former addict. Maybe it was the fact that you hated seeing House detoxing. Maybe it was because you knew how sick he must have felt. Whatever it was— it triumphed over any nobility you held as a doctor as you placed three white pills into House’s shaking hands with a reassuring smile. 

            House looked at you with an almost frazzled gaze, dry-swallowing the pills as if you were going to snatch them away if he took too long. You sat on a stool by House’s side, holding a small styrofoam cup’s straw to his lips. He gratefully sipped, a soft whistling coming from the lid as House greedily gulped down the frigid water. He gave you a nod, as if to say ‘thank you’ without the words ever leaving his mouth. You only nodded in response.

            House asked for your name, a raspy request given between sips and wheezes. You gave it to him, although skeptical he didn’t know the name of the newest hire on his team— House was a very thorough man in his decisions. He gave you a lazy grin, giggling to himself and eventually drifting off. At least the pills did what you hoped, giving House some much-needed rest. He looked so much more peaceful like that— no longer sporting a leaping forehead vein, teeth no longer bared— he looked at ease. Like he wasn’t in any pain.

            After several torturous hours— the ones that bled into days, which crashed down into weeks— House was cleared to return to work . . . although he technically never left, and was sure to remind everyone of such knowledge. He walked circles around his bed with a newfound vigor, having just replenished his fix for the morning. House’s limp was barely noticeable when he first dosed, and you were consistent in tracking how his decreased mobility affected his mood by the end of the day. 

            The truth was, you were used to House— but you were not accustomed to sober House— the version of himself that he hid away until he could take time off work. The persona that House barely allowed to see the light of day if unnecessary. The facade that reminded House too much of his father in a certain light. 

            You didn’t blame him— you used to be the same way— although he didn’t know that much from your file. He treated you like some brown-nosing geek, saving his life to look good in front of the new boss. House didn’t understand why someone would fight so hard to save him, and then hand him the pills that almost killed him in the same breath. You didn’t quite understand it either— maybe it was the words Wilson muttered by House’s bedside when he was still in a perpetual coma.

“I can’t lose you yet— fight it.” 

            Maybe it was the pang of hurt you felt at the sight of him when he awoke— dripping with sweat, pale, scratching at his own intravenous drip to make himself feel something other than the pounding of his head and the bile in his belly. Whatever it was— the semblance spoke to you well enough to place his own killer into his discolored palms. 

            It was worth it, the way House’s gaze lit up— he angled his head to the ceiling tiles and hastily, shakily swallowed the pills without any consideration. You almost took pity on him— that was, until he commented on your bust in your top. You smacked him with his own file, grateful to have the version of House you had come to know up and running again— regardless of how annoying that version may be. Your help remained unspoken, but in the following weeks, some distant glances and singled-out tasks would bring any tension to a head. 

[lanawinterscigarettes]

um hi hallo :3 can i pls have dr gregory house x male intern reader… with feedism elements where the reader is the feeder role…….. :3

yeah, absolutely! just a disclaimer, I've never written anything relating to feedism/a feeding kink before so I'm not sure if this is all that good or not but I tried my best :]

(this IS something for kinktober just in case y'all are curious. I know because I got a previous ask for it) thanks for requesting something! <3

Kinktober 2024 Day 6: feedism (feeding kink) with Greg House x male reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, feedism, feedee House, feeder reader, alludes to House having slightly disordered eating, slight praise kink, belly rubbing/massaging, romanticizing/sexualizing weight gain (by the reader), brief solo masturbation from the reader at the end but no real smut other than that because I wasn't really sure how to incorporate that properly

House wasn't like most doctors. In fact, he wasn't like most people. His bedside manner was horrible and his social interactions could definitely use some work. Something that could also use some work was his strange eating habits.

It wasn't that he didn't eat. He wasn't anorexic, and he certainly didn't care what he looked like. He just didn't always put eating at his top list of priorities.

To be quite frank, he didn't view it as something he needed to do in order to survive. He needed to have cases to figure out, or else he'd go insane. And he needed his constant supply of Vicodin in order to help chase the pain away. But he didn't need to eat in order to live. The way he viewed it, he was better than that.

Sure, he had a habit of stealing Wilson's food from him, but that was more of a power thing than anything else. The bottom line was, if he had better things to do he most likely wasn't thinking about getting fed. Was it unhealthy? Most definitely, but it also wasn't exactly healthy of him to pop a pain pill every time a muscle of his tweaked wrong. Still, he managed.

Most people didn't notice this bad habit of his, and if they did it wasn't brought up. Obviously his addiction to painkillers was much more pressing than if he skipped the occasional meal.

You, on the other hand, thought it mattered a lot more than that. You noticed how he only seemed to be in the cafeteria at the hospital if he was either with Wilson or trying to avoid Cuddy. He went there out of boredom or if he was looking to kill time, not because he thought he had to eat. This was something you were bound and determined to help him work through, regardless of whether he wanted you to or not.

If he had any idea on what you were up to, he didn't say anything about it, too busy bossing around the ducklings to waste time with yet another intern, one that didn't really interest him at that. He was quite content to carry on as usual despite the plan you were forming to get him to change his poor eating habits.

There really weren't that many places in the hospital that he went in order to get away from Cuddy, which certainly made your job of finding him a whole lot easier. His office, Wilson's office, and funnily enough the chapel were his main choices. When he couldn't be found there, you figured maybe he was in an exam room down at the clinic, pretending to work. Turned out you were right.

You listened closely outside the door to Exam Room One to see if you could hear anyone in the room besides him on the off chance that he actually was with a patient. When you didn't hear anything, you decided to knock.

"With a patient!" He called out immediately in response, not even giving you the opportunity to speak first. Typical House.

Opening the door regardless, you found the unsurprising sight of him lounging in one of the chairs while playing on his Gameboy, the sound of beeping and video game music filling the room.

"Can you come back later? I'm a little busy right now." His attention was clearly focused on his game as he didn't even look up when he spoke.

Ignoring his request, you shut the door and entered the room. "When was the last time you've eaten today? And stealing Wilson's fries at lunch doesn't count."

"Well, hello to you, too," he muttered under his breath in response, purposely avoiding the question.

You weren't having it. "I'm serious. It's not healthy for you to go so long without having a proper meal."

"Yeah, I got that. You must forget, I'm also a doctor. A real one, at that. I'm not a temp or an intern like you are, I've got tenure."

His snarky reply didn't waiver you in the slightest. "If I go get you something from the cafeteria, will you eat it?" You knew how argumentative he could be, so you did your best to appease him through offering a compromise.

"I'm not hungry right now," he stubbornly insisted as he shut off his game and stood, grabbing his cane from where it was resting in the corner so he could use it to walk with.

Sighing in exasperation, you went to stand in front of the door so he couldn't leave. "I'll get you a Rueben, cold, with no pickles. That's your favorite, right?"

He paused, seeming intrigued by your offer, if not a little suspicious as well. "Go on."

Knowing you'd finally caught his attention, you decided to continue. "I'll bring it up to you in your office, and you can eat in privacy while you avoid everyone else."

"Except for you, apparently. You seem awfully eager to keep me fed." It was true, and you knew it. You had hoped it would come across more like you were just concerned (which was technically true) but clearly he'd picked up on your own selfish reasons to want to help him.

"One sandwich, that's all I'm asking. If you don't want to do something like this again after we're done, you don't have to."

At first you thought he was going to flat out refuse, but much to your surprise he actually seemed to contemplate it for a moment or two. "One sandwich. And I'm eating it in my office, away from other people," he wagered as if you weren't the one to suggest it in the first place.

Not wanting to miss the one chance you might have, you wholeheartedly agreed to his conditions and finally stepped away from the door so he could leave. It was a bit hard for you to keep your excitement at bay at the prospect of getting to feed him, though at first you didn't know why you were so intent on it. In any case, he'd agreed, and that's what mattered.

When you got up to his office, he was already lounging in the chair behind his desk, playing absentmindedly with a rubber band. "Oh, good. You brought me my lunch. And here I thought you were going to let me starve to death after you were so insistent on feeding me in the first place."

You rolled your eyes in response to his obvious sarcasm as you set the plastic wrapped sandwich down on the desk in front of him, along with a can of soda and a bag of chips.

"Hey, you said I only had to eat the sandwich," he pointed out in a whiny voice that was in the likeness of a petulant child.

"Just eat what you can." You sat down in front of him so you could watch him eat, something that he didn't seem to appreciate judging from the way he stopped opening the wrapping on his sandwich and stared back at you.

"What, do you want to feed me yourself?" He questioned in a mocking tone, obviously under the impression that you'd get offended and hopefully say no before getting up to leave. You answer was the exact opposite.

"Okay." That was the only thing you said before you stood and made your way over, taking the sandwich from him and continuing to unwrap it before handing him half. "Eat."

The command was soft yet firm, clearly not one that was meant to be ignored. For some strange reason he felt compelled to actually listen to you, something that didn't happen with him very often. Maybe it was due to the fact that you actually seemed to care and weren't just trying to spite him, like most people.

He took it from you, his icy blue eyes gazing upwards into yours as he began to eat. It seemed as though he was deadset on proving to you that he could eat when he really wanted to.

"There you go, good job."

House didn't get flustered, he was certain of it, but something about the way you said that gave him the little push he needed to keep eating, wanting to make you proud. The thought itself was utterly ridiculous, him needing someone else's praise in order to complete such a stupid and minor task. He finally broke his gaze from yours, instead choosing to focus on the sandwich he was taking slow yet deliberate bites of.

Once he was finished with the first half, you picked up the second and held it out to him. "Do you want the second half yet, or do you want to wait a couple minutes first?"

He let out a scoff at the question, as if he were offended by it. "What, did you think I was going to save it for later?" Your lack of a reaction at his usual snarkiness caused him to push down whatever he'd planned on adding to that, choosing instead to quietly take the other half of the sandwich from you to eat.

It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, not having his stomach ache with its usual hunger pains. He didn't always immediately listen to the needs of his body unless it was the shooting pain he typically felt in his leg when he went too long without his pain meds.

For once, his stomach didn't feel empty and desolate, like how most of his relationships tended to be. It was odd, but not unwelcome.

Somehow you managed to convince him to at least start on the soda and chips, something that he didn't regret in the slightest. Nor did he regret it when you offered to rub his stomach afterwards, knowing it might ache a bit due to the expanding it was doing from the food intake.

"There you go. See, don't you feel better after actually eating something for once?" Your voice was low and soothing, your hand warm as it made slow, circular movements on his stomach. He could feel how gentle your touch was even through his clothes.

"I guess," he grumbled, making it clear that he still wasn't overly fond of letting you take care of him, even if it was only in one small aspect of his life. "This is just a one time thing though, alright? So don't get your hopes up."

Nodding your head, you made it seem as though you were agreeing with his statement that this was the only time it would happen. You, however, knew this was only the beginning. Somehow you'd get him to form the habit of eating more frequently, even if you had to be there with him.

You imagined what it would be like, getting to feed him everyday. The thought of being able to ensure his health and wellbeing while also helping him gain a few pounds... You wondered how he'd look with a little bit of extra fat on his stomach. You wondered if it would be noticeable through those band shirts he always wore to work.

The movements of your fist wrapped around your aching cock grew faster and more needy as you recalled your memories of what had happened earlier that day. The way he so willingly trusted you to feed him and even let you rub his belly after did nothing but bring you closer and closer to the edge until your seed finally spilled out onto your hand.

You panted heavily as you laid back on the bed, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to catch your breath. You were sure it wouldn't take him long to realize your ulterior motives behind wanting to help him eat more, but you couldn't really find it in you to care. Not when the fantasy you had of him letting you coax him into gaining a little weight was far too delicous to let go of.

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | House MD masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Kinktober 2024 masterlist | Kinktober info post/prompt list

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @theonetruepotato87 @pigeonmama @caplanreblogsfics

[evieelyzabethh]

Hi me again! 👋🏻

I was wondering if you had time maybe to write a small fic (or one shot whatever you’re comfortable with) where the reader is Buffy’s cousin ( also library assistant or whatever you would like ) and the reader and Giles are in a secret relationship ( maybe smut?? ) and they’re navigating that and Buffy finds out and it’s this whole thing. If you’re busy I totally understand or if you just don’t want to, again it’s okay. I really do enjoy your work 🥰.

Not Unavailable, More Unimpressed

pairing(s): Giles x Summers!Reader

summary: what started out as a short term fling has gotten increasingly complicated when the reciprocity and sincerity of feelings is called into questions. pt.1 of ???

warnings: smut, fem!reader, drinking, hand job, a bit of breast worship, clothed grinding, riding, slight choking, age gap (Giles is in his mid to late 40's, reader is in her late 20s/ early 30s), reader has nipple piercings bc I said so and I think they are hot

an: This fic will contain smut so be warned. You are responsible for your own media consumption, read at your own risk.

The man at the bar was a mystery to you. He didn't quite fit into the bar atmosphere. He wasn't one of the barely legals or illegals who snuck in eager to drink, he wasn't one of the old guys who came to hit on the bottle girls, he didn't smell like a smoker or shoot whiskey like a drinker. He was also British, something that left an odd taste in your mouth.

You couldn't call yourself a regular here, more often than not you found yourself at the Bronze, purely per Buffy's request, which had okay enough booze and slightly better music. Here, some place clearly meant for an older crowd called Jack's, is where the older man sat. Alone, he sat at the far corner, sometimes looking longingly at the stage like he was a performer. He didn't look like a performer though.

He was older than you. He was greyed out and looked like he came from when TVs were still in sepia tones. He looked like Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird, like he was always a moment away from scolding someone. It didn't help that he always looked tired, like a lot of his age came from stress. If that was the case, it still didn't make sense as to why he chose a bar to be his spot to wind down.

It was loud. Not in the way that the Bronze was, a type of loud filled with life. A loud spurred by rowdy souls, people who couldn't let loose at home, so they came to one of the only shitty bars in the small town to drink a shitty beer and watch their favorite sports team lose. Not to mention the countless barely legals who got into fights with the bartenders after they failed to get their underage friends a drink. Jack's wasn't a place to have fun, it was the place to avoid doing something reckless during your midlife crisis. You were only there because of convenience, and after being there for a half hour were already beginning to get a migraine.

Job hunting was rough. When you moved to Sunnydale on behalf of your aunt, she offered to let you stay under her roof, but being a grown woman who got up to grown woman shenanigans, it would be more than distasteful to do it in Joyce's home. You were lucky enough that the housing market was great in the area, with all the supernatural happenings so one chose to move to Sunnydale, but that still didn't mean that a decent looking apartment wouldn't cost you a nice sum of money every month.

I could just work here, was your first thought. You were once a young college student also desperate for money, you had bartended, you could always go back if you lacked self-respect. You had a degree dammit, sure you didn't have a doctorate, but you shouldn't need one to get a nice quiet desk job. Neither option was all that fulfilling, but something told you that bartending in a town when demons just roamed the streets didn't seem like a great idea.

The mystery man looked like he had a nice job. Maybe a nice car. Possibly a nice house. He looked financially stable, and fuck was that hot. What did he do? What was there to do in Sunnydale? You could ask.

You looked at his hands to see if there was a ring or any indication that there was someone waiting for him wherever he came from. Maybe a picture of a kid, maybe a photo of a significant other. Nothing. Nothing.

You slinked over to the seat beside him, not meaning to make your presence immediately known yet he still looked up as he felt the heat of someone else beside him. His glasses perched low on his nose and his grey hair tussled. His eyes were green. He was pretty.

"Hello?" He looked at you confused. He took a moment to drink you in. Younger, gorgeous, clearly bold.

"Hello."

"Are you waiting for someone?" You shook your head.

"No. Are you?" and he'd be lying if he said he was.

☽✯☾

"You know, I don't do this often." He said between the rare breaths that were allowed in between suffocating kisses. Whatever he took up in his free time must've involved a great workout regimen. His hand sat comfortably at your neck, and you basked in the warmth that it provided in his cold apartment. His other held your cheek, his thumb mindless rubbing against it in a way that was hypnotizing. It almost had a numbing affect, your skin not being able to get past the feeling making your brain pause as he kissed your lips.

He tasted like fine wine. He smelled like old books. You half expected him to quote a classic at you, you didn't know him well enough to gauge if he was the type. His tongue contradicted his previous statement. These weren't the kisses of a man out of practice, that or he did it so much in his youth it was impossible to forget. Something like riding a bike.

"For a man who doesn't do this often, you're mighty good at it." He smirked; you could feel it against your lips. You wished you could see it, but he had the lights in his bedroom turned low and you weren't sure you wanted to open your eyes in the fear that you were dreaming. It was warm, he was so warm. So warm it was noticeable when his lips left yours and moved to your neck, hovering under your ears. His breath fanning against your neck was enough to send shivers down your spine.

"You haven't even seen how good I am, darling." The pet name alone made you weak in the knees, but you would be damned if you swooned at someone called you darling. Granted, you couldn't help how your mouth went dry or how your pussy clenched at nothing, but he didn't need to know that. He was going to find out, but he can find out later when your lust ridden brain stopped listening to reason and pride.

"Show me, then."

He dipped his head to kiss you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tip your head back and you let him, grabbing on to his broad shoulders to stabilize yourself. You were pressed between the wall and him, pressing him even closer as you fisted his shirt to pull him closer, but he was hesitant to oblige. He was teasing, you could tell by the way he smiled into your kisses, pulling away like he needed air while you chased after his lips.

"You having issues breathing, old man?" The hand at your neck squeezed, not enough to choke you but enough to make your head even dizzier. His other hand travelled to any piece of skin he could get his hands on. Feather light, his fingers ran across your arms, then your collarbones, before knocking the straps of your dress off your shoulder. His kisses moved slow, his tongue damn near like languid waves that you were somehow managing to drown in.

Still, you chased after him, and still, he ran. His lips ran to the corner of your mouth, to the skin of your neck his hand didn't engulf, to where your strap lay useless. His kisses scorched your otherwise cold skin, his mouth sucking hickeys and then immediately soothing them.

He was so soft. Soft in how his hands found the back of your dress, soft in how his eyes looked into yours, asking permission without even saying a word, soft like the way the fabric slipped of your body and onto the floor. Soft like the bed he laid you on. Even soft in the way he continued to tease you, his knee meeting the crotch of your panties and him meticulously unsnapping your bra as if you couldn't tell he knew how to do it.

He then paused for a minute, finally coming across something he hadn't experienced before. His fingers took the ball of cool metal between his fingers, and you moaned at how it pulled ever so slightly at your nipple.

"What are these?" You chuckled.

"I got 'em pierced ages ago. Drunk night out with a few friends my senior year." He continued to play with the metal ball, well aware of how you keened and ground yourself into his knee.

"So, I can play with them." Fuck. It was how he said it. Like a nerd you might've messed around with in school because he was a good tutor but also because he had that nerdy charm to him. Like playing with your body was a game of Operations he had been so eager to play and was determined to get good at. It was easy to imagine Giles like that, fogged up glasses, eyes concentrated and focused on figuring out what buttons to press to get a prize. There was the curiosity in his lust-blown eyes, and in your lust addled brain you were fine with being his toy.

"Please do." He didn't need to be told twice. Avid learner he was, he went in, his large hands easily covering your breasts. His fingers pulled at the bars, drawing whimpers out of you the more he prodded. It wasn't too rough, Giles was too soft to ever be truly rough, but the feeling of his gaze, your clothed pussy rubbing against his soft slacks, and his large hands over your chest was getting a bit much. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet.

It didn't take long for him to realize the feeling of your pierced tits in his mouth was one of the best things he's felt, and it felt even better for you. A wet patch had long since been growing and he certainly felt it too, it egged him on. He wasn't even in you, he hadn't even tasted you, and you were almost there. You were so close.

You grabbed at anything you could, his shirt, his sheets, his hands that held yours as you rocked yourself onto his knee until you saw stars. Then he grabbed your face and swallowed your moans as he kissed and kissed you until you came down. A moment of clarity hit you, and you pulled on his shirt. "Off." you told him simply, and he obliged. You smashed your lips into his, peeling off button after button until the shirt was thrown to the side and his undershirt beneath was discarded with even less care.

"Issues with patience, darling?" You shook your head.

"Not fair I'm practically naked and you were fully clothed." His retort was cut off by your lips as you sat up to meet him, his hands absent-mindedly finding your breasts and yours finding his belt and making quick work of it before he even realized what was happening. You kissed him through it, anyway, still chasing after him as he pulled away to curse at the feeling of your hand around his dick.

"Gods." he muttered, words tumbling out clumsily as you rubbed the tip of his cock. He never had the control to pull away fast enough for an adequate breather, just a second to get a breath out and pray. You were flattered. His hand seemed like it wanted to swat you away, but it didn't have the strength to betray his brain like that. It felt good. Too good. So good he couldn't even think, and Giles never stopping thinking and now he was drawing blanks. He was sure you had mocked him once or twice, which went through one ear and out the other.

He caught himself thrusting into your hand before he caught himself, grabbing your wrist. "Hang on." He choked out, but you didn't listen. Your hand moved up and down his shaft terribly slow, and it was almost worse. Watching you spit on your hand and collect pre-cum from his tip and spread it like some sick simulation of what it would be like to be in you, and yet he couldn't help but watch his hand completely cover yours as you pumped him. Don't cum yet.

"I said hang on." His breath was ragged and his voice was deep. This time he meant it. "There are condoms in the top left drawer. Take one out for me, love." And you did as such. Did it with so much assurance that you slid it on without him even needing to ask you. Slid your panties off and sank down so fast neither one of you was ready.

You both sat there a moment, feeling your nerve endings tingle and burn, like you were both on fire. But you were on fire together. Like you could feel every atom in your body, like it had all been reduced to nothing but water, you were both feeling everything and anything yet absolutely nothing at the same time. So much feeling any nuance got lost in the moment. Just being there, breaths away, with a complete stranger you were sleeping with because he was pretty and looked financially stable.

You kissed him, a real kiss. Spontaneous. One with a feeling neither one of you could decipher and both assumed meant nothing. You rode it out until you had both exhausted each other, you falling on top of him and him catching you.

"Would you like to use my shower before you go? Did you need a ride home?" You cheesed to yourself. And they say chivalry is dead.

"Yeah, that would be nice." You had already rolled out of his bed in search of your dress and waiting for feeling to return to your legs. "I never got your name."

"Giles. Rupert Giles." You giggled as you shook of your dress after picking it up from the floor. Sounds about right.

"And what do you do for a living, Mr. Giles."

"Do these things typically end in interviews?" He made no effort to get out of his bed, he even had the decency to turn away while you get dressed as if he wasn't just balls deep in you.

"No, but I am new to town and would like to not be broke."

"I'm a librarian." Of course, you are. "Have you any interest in literature?" You did. You were a nerd. You had tried convincing yourself you weren't for years, but you majored in philosophy and minored in classic literature; and no one likes philosophy majors.

"I dabble a bit. Got a degree from all the reading I did if that counts." He looked at you like he knew you were trying to make yourself sound cooler. Nerd calls to nerd.

"Well, plenty of places are always hiring. The turnover rate is quite atrocious here." And even new to town, you believed it.

"I just might."

☽✯☾

You did end applying, you even ended up getting the job. Apparently, your little cousin's high school was in desperate need of a library assistant. You also had the pleasure of freezing when you saw Giles again and watching your little cousin greet her favorite teacher.

It was almost worth it for the look on his face, though.

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

why is so much gregory house x reader house fic about y/n also being a brilliant doctor i think i have to write some house smut for the average patient with an obsession and horny power dynamics???

[velaryqns]

Make up, Make Out

REQUEST: Ok ok so I had this idea that y/n is a doctor or a surgeon and has to cancel her date with House because she is on call and House is such a drama queen and gets upset and gives her the silent treatment until she decides to make it up to him

REQUESTED BY: anonymous

PAIRINGS: Gregory House x Fem!reader

SONG: not applicable

WARNINGS: arguing, fluff, slight smut (if you look close enough), angst, house being an ass (which should always be a warning), brief mention of blood

So this is going to be kinda something knew….

—-

I silently cursed as I was paged back to the OR, my team had finally discovered what was wrong with our patient and now I needed to get back as soon as possible. However, as I watched the clock while gathering what I needed, I knew I either had to cancel or be late.

Either way, someone would be throwing a tantrum. Groaning, I paged for House and then left my office. I had no guarantee that he would answer, especially if he was doing around of “Clinic Hours,” which mainly consisted of him sleeping. Cuddy had complained about that enough to me.

Thankfully, as I was walking out of the elevator to the OR, I saw that he had beat me to the floor. Mock concern written on his face as a nurse told him what was going on, then his blue eyes found me.

“Y/l/n,”

“House,” I muttered and walked up to him, turning to the nurse, “prep him for surgery, give me a few minutes with Dr. House.”

He eyed me while I grabbed his arm and dragged him to stand outside of the OR while I tied my hair back and washed my hands, “I have to cancel tonight.”

“Excuse me?” His eyes grew wide at my words, and I hummed in response, “This has been planned for like, ever. Is that how kids say it now?”

“Greg,” I glared at him, “I want to stay with my patient tonight, if this surgery could’ve been pushed back it would’ve been to let us build more of a plan, but it can’t. I need to have his surgery now, and then I want to stay through the night, I’m sorry.”

He scoffed and shook his head, turning around to walk away before I grabbed his hand, “Greg.”

“Your surgery, madame,” he gestured toward the OR and I clenched my jaw, but went to wash my hands and get scrubbed in for my surgery nonetheless.

—-

It had been a successful process, and I sat in his room some of the night, maintaining paper work whenever I wasn’t. Currently, I was seated at my desk reading over a few things, when I felt someone’s eyes on me from the doorway.

I looked up, a hopeful expression in my face, only for it to drop at the sight of James. He mocked pain, his hand going over his heart as he entered my office.

“Morning,” I greeted him, clearing papers off of the section of my desk that the chair he took was in front of. I noticed he had a rack of coffee, three cups resting in it. I hastily took one and took a long drink, thankful for the hot liquid.

“Morning,” he smiled at me and got comfortable in the chair, he eyed me as I set the cup down, “how’d the surgery go?”

“The aftermath from the surgery isn’t what I’m worried about,” I chuckled while going back to writing, “it went smooth, he’s going to push through its-“

The door was pushed open and House himself entered, his eyes immediately darted to James, “Good morning, James.”

“Morning,” James greeted, somewhat surprised.

We had a set morning routine, you see. Everyone would meet in my office given what was allotted, James would bring coffee and if I didn’t pull an overnighter I would bring donuts or bagels for us three, as well as Greg’s team. House brought himself, and James and I agreed that would be enough. House would make sure to greet me first, lest we saw one another the night (and sometimes even if we have he still greeted me first to get under James’ skin). He’d walk to me, steal my coffee and place a chaste kiss on the top of my head in “apology,” leaving me to grab another from the cardboard rack.

This morning was different. There was no coffee stealing, no “apology” kiss, and no good morning to me. House simply grabbed a coffee from James, nodded appreciably and walked back out. James looked between him and I in shock, trying to process what had just happened.

“I canceled our date,” I whispered.

“Did you say something?” Greg peaked back in, his eyes going to James, unwavering. He didn’t even look at me.

James quickly shook his head and Greg accepted the answer, leaving once more, this time shutting the office door. I sighed and turned back to James, “It was important to him too, for once, but I wanted to stay with my patient over night.”

“Which is an acceptable thing to do,” James intervened, smiling warmly with a nod, “I’m sure he’ll get over this soon.”

He did not get over it.

A few days later, and Greg had yet but to utter a word to me. When he had something he needed to tell me, he sent his team. Foreman was typically the one to speak with me, as he enjoyed being around me compared to his boss. It was favoritism of the parents as Cameron had said once, causing Greg to scoff and walk away, as we had yet to even go on a date when she said that.

James grew worried, as Greg stopped coming by my office in the mornings all together, and whenever James spoke about me, Greg acted oblivious. It was ridiculous in all honesty. But I knew he’d throw a tantrum, it’s what Greg does best. Thankfully, I know how to outsmart men who act like children.

“James,” I walked up to the doctor while he was reading over a file, “Could you page House?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“Wilson,” I muttered, he held his hands up in surrender but nodded, grabbing his pager.

After a while, James and I were interrupted by the presence of House complaining that his alone time was interrupted rather abruptly. I smirked at the sight of him, grabbing his wrinkled t-shirt and dragging him behind me. Nurses watched in confusion, unsure of whether or not they should step in.

I opened the door of a supply closet and pushed House in, he began protesting, but fell silent when I slammed the door shut and flicked the light on.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I seethed at him. Silence met me, I placed my hand on his chest, a teasing smile curling on my lips, “You are so entitled. So damn dramatic.”

As I was speaking my hand was slowly dragging down, his eyes growing wide in realization. I grinned up at him and in response he leaned in and pressed a hungry kiss to my lips, catching me by surprise while his hands grabbed my washer and pulled me against him. I grinned at the feeling of him being so turned on, and he pulled away.

“You’re making canceling the date up to me,” he said with a bite of hatred.

“I can think of a few ways,”

[colossalcriminal]

Hi, could you do house and his 18 years old stalker story. When his stalker turned on 18, he decided to call her and then they go to date and ended up with his house. She could be virgin and this is her first time with House. Btw i didn't ask, just explain my idea :), do you write smut stories?

Remarkable Day - g.h

Pairing: Gregory House x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a birthday present for his stalker turns into something more, House finds himself liking it.

Content Warnings: Allusions to smut, 20+ year age gap. Reader is estranged from her parents and has a little brother.

I don't write smut because I'm terrible lmao but I write everything else :) Also inspired by House and Cameron's date scene from s1.

It was my birthday a few days ago, so count this as my gift to you!

Cane hitting the dirty pavement as he stepped down after, House shook his head at the familiar frame, only this time she stood against what looked like a brand new car, keys mindlessly twirling around her finger.

Grinning at his entrance, Y/N straightened up. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"I'm good, though I'm sure there's someone else who'll pay you to chauffeur."

Smile not faltering as she was used to his particularly sharp humor, she continued. "Come on, doc. I just got it for myself, as a birthday present."

He scoffed, glaring at the car. "How old are you turning? 8? Are you even old enough to drive?"

"Close," She took a stride towards him. "I'm turning 18."

The doctor furrowed his brows. "Well, if you're 18 then I have, what's it called? Mad cow disease."

Excited at the opportunity to show off her medical knowledge so far, she retorted. "You'll need a brain biopsy for Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease."

Peeking into the car, House pursed his lips at the mail inside. "You got into Princeton, congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Now, let's say you got financial aid, that's still roughly 10,000 dollars. How'd you afford a car?"

"I got a job and I saved. I'm a big girl, I can pay for my stuff. Anything else you want to interrogate me about?"

Impressed at her confidence, he dug into his pocket, retrieving a sum of money. "Here, go buy yourself a teddy, as a gift from me to you."

"This is two dollars."

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not living up to your rich - double your age - sugar daddy dream?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, tucking the dollar bill back into his pocket. "I don't want money, I want a date."

Feigning confusion, he turned to walk towards his bike. "I'm sure you can go find a Princeton boy to take you out."

"No, I want a date with you." She frowned at his disinterest. "Give me one night to show you a whole new world and get all deep."

He mounted his bike. "Happy birthday."

"You know my number if you change your mind."

Going about his usual routine, House had winded down with Wilson in exam room one. "You're not actually thinking about going out with her, are you?"

He shrugged, attention still captured by the the latest episode of Prescription: Passion. "There are no real cons to going out with her."

"She's 18!"

"Exactly!" He replied, word oozing with sarcasm. "It's one dinner, just for her birthday so that I don't have to see her every morning."

To be fair, he didn't mind being greeted by the young girl every morning. In fact, the one day she wasn't there had him feeling somewhat downhearted until she returned the next day with coffees for two in hand, claiming she had an errand to run.

It took him a moment to register the voice on the other end of the phone call, Wilson practically staring into his soul. "Hey, doc."

"One dinner, that's it."

"Lovely. Do I get to know where we're going? I have to dress appropriately." He could hear the sheer delight of her smile.

"Just look nice." What was he saying? She always looked nice! The oncologist shook his head at his friend's lack of real flirting skills, mouthing an overdramatic 'What?'

"Alright, we'll leave from your place, see you at 7:00."

-

She would be here any minute as he sighed in frustration, ditching the idea of a tie completely as Wilson advised him.

"What even attracted you to her anyways?"

"I'm not attracted to her."

"She goes to a university where the literal dress code is to cover your underwear and wear a shirt." He voiced. "Comment on shoes, earrings and the move onto DHA. Dreams, hopes and aspirations, and I'm sure she's got a lot of ideas on what she wants to be when she's grown up."

House ignored the joke, picking up a small box from the nearby table. The velvet container caught the other doctor's attention as he narrowed his eyes at it. "Jesus, how much did you spend?" He marveled at the sight of a gold chain, her initial hanging off it as a pendant.

"It's lame, isn't it?"

Wilson looked at him with a softer, sincere smile. "I think she likes lame."

A faint knock on the front door had House shoving the jewellery into his pocket and smoothing down his hair before answering it.

In the doorway, fist raised ready to knock again, Y/N stood with a dazzling smile. The formal dress was clad in was certainly different to her usual day to day ensembles of jeans and various tops. Perhaps it was something as trivial as seeing her legs for the first time that made his heart race, or the fluttering of her eyelashes that occurred while she greeted him in the most delicate voice. "Hi."

His speech had transpired into a light stutter as he revealed the small box. "This is for you."

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything!" She opened it, eyes widening at it's contents. "Wow, oh my god. Thank you."

Not knowing how to respond to her evident gratitude, House's response didn't seem too delighted to any passer-by. "You're welcome, now turn around."

Catching on to his intention, she turned, softly gasping once the cold metal made contact with the warm skin of her neck, hair being moved away for easy access.

Comfortable silence clouding the air, Y/N was confused when he limped towards his motorcycle instead of her car. "We have a perfectly safe, doored vehicle right here." She stated.

"We also have a somewhat safe, un-doored vehicle over here."

"Somewhat?"

"Nothing is ever perfectly safe."

Knowing his mind was made up, she watched him bestride the bike with a sense of ease, shoulders drooping at the expectant look he gave her. With a sigh he held his hand out, heart fluttering when she perked up, using it to sit behind him.

She placed her hands gingerly on his sides, a small giggle escaping when he grabbed hold of them, wrapping her arms around his middle. "Maybe you are just an overgrown baby." He grunted at the squeak that erupted after the roar of the bike. "Don't be so afraid."

"I've never been anywhere near one of these before."

"How come?"

"Never had a rich - double my age - sugar daddy." Y/N teased, referring to the cynical joke he'd made earlier that day.

The rest of the ride had gone smoothly once she got the hang of it, occasional laughs from the wind in her hair had the older man smiling like a schoolboy, glad she couldn't see his expression.

She stumbled when getting off, a hand on her waist steadying her. "Can't have you fall and get a concussion, then it'd be a excuse for Cuddy to get me to log more clinic hours." House internally grimaced at the poor excuse, making sure to pull away incase she noticed how his hand lingered for a second too long.

They remained in silence until they were sat down in the restaurant, menus open before them. "Nice earrings." He complimented, remembering Wilson's lecture, doubting on whether he should be taking his friend's advice due to multiple failed marriages.

"Thank you."

"Nice shoes."

"Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?" Y/N chuckled. "You don't care about my shoes or my earrings. Just converse with me, like I said earlier, I have a night to show you a whole new world."

The doctor averted his eyes to anything, the fancy glass of water, the menu, the slightly stained table cloth. "I don't know how to have a conversation. Without small talk, what is there?"

"We're having a conversation right now."

"I don't understand. I'm not charming, great looking, or even nice, your attraction to me is extemporaneous."

Tilting her head, the corner of her mouth tugged upward. "I always thought you had nice eyes, that your sardonic humor and wit was charming. I don't want you to be nice, or to serenade me at my window, I want you to be you."

He pursed his lips. "The 'be yourself' speech, how cheesy." His initial sarcastic tone had worn off when he spotted a certain group of three at the other side of the restaurant. "Oh, great. My minions are here."

Y/N hid her smile with the menu. She knew all three of his colleagues, getting on quite well with them when she often ran errands throughout the hospital while on an internship. "Don't want them to know you're on a date with me?"

House stood, nodding his head towards the door. "Let's go."

"Are you sure?"

"House!" Foreman's call had cemented their plans as the young girl was on her feet, pulling her date out of the restaurant as best as she could with his limp.

She burst into a fit of giggles at their somewhat great escape. The diagnostician simply smiled, not at their actions but at the sheer delight displayed on her features as her hand still remained on his forearm from when she had tugged him out of the restaurant and to his motorbike. "Hop on."

Laughter dying down, her expression was dumbfounded. "What?"

"Hop on." He repeated, raising an eyebrow as she hesitantly clambered onto the bike, getting on behind her.

Grabbing her hands, he rested them on the hand grip, steering from behind her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to the best restaurant in town."

-

The moan that escaped her lips was comical as Y/N savored the taste of the burger in her mouth.

"McDonald's is totally better than Carluccio's." She commented, failing to notice the chuckle from the man before her.

"Tell me about you." He piped up, earning a slightly confused glance. "You know a bit about me, but I barely know you. Either this is a scheme to kidnap me, or you actually wanted a date."

The university student rolled her eyes, putting her burger down and popping a nugget from his tray into her mouth, ignoring his distaste towards the gesture. "I'm a boring person, doc. Just trying to live life one day at a time."

"So you're trying to live life one day at a time, yet you intern for Cuddy?"

She shook her head. "Tell me about your parents." Lips spreading into a teasing smile at his look of confusion, she elaborated. "I don't actually know anything much about you. You can always tell who a person is from how they describe their parents."

The man quietly sighed before placing a fry in his mouth. "My dad was a marine pilot, my mother was a housewife. Married for 46 years. She was afraid of confrontation, he was more the 'care when your eyeball's popping out' type."

"And you didn't gel with the 'care when your eyeball's popping out' type?"

"It's a good trait to have as a man, but a lousy one to have as a father." He took a brief sip from her coke. "Tell me about yours."

"Nothing much about them, really. I haven't talked to my parents in a year, but my brother's alright."

House interlocked his hands, intrigued. "Let me guess, favoritism? Betrayal? Oh, disownment!"

"What? No! I just hated living with them and they made me feel guilty about wanting to go college far away."

"Dammit, I thought it was something interesting, like them disowning you because your aspiration was to become a stripper." He pouted.

"I'd make a pretty good stripper."

"And I don't doubt you. You've got the legs for it."

Y/N giggled, closing the now empty burger box and placing it above his. "When I was 14, my brother was born. By then I'd already grown an aversion to children, but I thought my mother was an understanding person. I thought she'd understand that I didn't always want to feed him, or hold him, or that I'd get headaches when he cried loud. But she didn't, and I guess I was a little hurt when my own best friend said 'you're meant to be sneaking out, going out with friends and having a good time.'"

"So you're trying to get the best out of your time now because you didn't get to as a teenager?"

"Maybe. I have nothing against my brother, I love him more than anything in the world and raising him for the first four years were great."

House nodded in understanding, standing as he held his unoccupied arm out. The disheartened expression on her face melted away as she looped her own through his, venturing out of the restaurant and onto the street. Small but fat droplets of water had began cascading slowly. "So much taking the motorcycle, it's raining."

Rolling his eyes, he put his cane on it. "Get on behind me."

"What? But I'll be cold." She feigned a pout.

With pursed lips, he stripped himself of his coat, handing it out to her. "Here."

"Really? Won't you be cold?" She smiled at his nod and gesture to his blazer, allowing the warmth of the big jacket to engulf her. "Thank you, Greg."

They remained there, a foot of distance between them, eyes meeting in a mutual gaze. Perhaps the space between them was casually getting smaller, one of them, or both, leaning into the other. "Are we going to kiss?"

His witty remark elicited a lazy smile from the young girl. "God, you had to ruin the moment."

"Sorry, I'm just not good with kissing cues and- oh!"

Lips clashing against each other had morphed into a gentle kiss, Y/N's hand found it's way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers traced delicate shapes onto her dress-clad waist. "Did you just trace stripper onto me with your finger?" She queried, only semi-serious.

House did his best to look dumbfounded. "Well, I have no idea what you're talking about, dear."

It was evident the rain had intensified during their 'star stricken' moment, leaving the couple soaked in each other's arms. "My place is close by." He started, small smile gracing his face when she got the memo.

"Lead the way."

"We're taking the bike."

"Aw, shit."

[crossingthedreams]

hello! i was wondering if you write dark or yandere stuff? and if you write for doctor james wilson x reader? thanks!

anon, you gave me one good idea 😈 just spent most of my day at word sneakly writing instead of, you know, doing stuff.

will post this later today, stay tuned! <3

btw, i hope smut is okay

[crossingthedreams]

do better — gregory house x f!reader

a/n: I got a little carried away, per usual, and now I’m late with day 04 of the angstober challenge (still a wyp), but I plan on finishing it and posting later today. but, omg, I can’t believe I'm posting day 05 — do better on time! this is also part of @angstober‘s challenge, which I'm having a blast writing. I do love some angsty vibes. please, feel free to comment or dm me!

summary: a relationship between the boss and his employee has a million ways to go wrong. one, in particular, hurt them the most. 

word count: 2.2k

warnings: angst. House is an asshole. mentions of family death. mentions of cancer. struggles with immigration. inappropriate relationship. mentions of smut.

Let medicine be thy food. 

That's the quote, or at least you think it is. After a particularly long shift, words in English seemed to scramble together a bit, with it being your second language and all. Usually, you’re a natural, perfect, fluent speaker. There are moments, however, when understanding what your peers are saying or formulating cohesive sentences becomes a herculean task. You didn’t make yourself unintelligible, but it was a little awkward to be with a patient who clearly had no idea how globalized the world was and how many doctors in the United States were not native English speakers, and who looked at you like you had just robbed the white coat from a “proper doctor”.

Sure, dealing with people was shitty sometimes. “Doctors don’t treat people, they treat illnesses”, your boss had once said. But in your mind, people weren’t that bad. The long hours, the sleep deprivation, the lack of a social life — that was the really bad part. And there were, of course, the very short lunch breaks. 

Medicine was fun, but it had nothing on a full plate of pasta with those weird looking meatballs. What once was disgusting, now seemed appetizing as hell. Not eating once while working for the whole night could do that to a person. Medicine was not food, at least not literally.

You had taken off your sweater and your white coat a while before going to the cafeteria, where the rest of the team was. As of right now, you and Chase had spent thirty-six hours working. Cameron and Foreman had taken the long straws and gone home last night while you and the prettiest doctor around worked on some lab tests. 

That man who, right now, was not really trying to hide how he lustfully eyed you up and down, stopping on your cleavage. You didn’t blame him for looking, though. Firstly, you did spend the night working together and you mentioned that you did not have sex for the last six months, and secondly, you had nice boobs, which was both a blessing and a curse. Also, he was very much exhausted. Thinking about your coworkers in an unfashionable manner to keep awake was better than falling asleep atop of a patient during a lumbar puncture — you had done both, so you could tell, oops. 

“I’ll die if I have to do any more thinking”, the pretty doctor said, accent even more prominent, letting his head drop to the headrest of his seat behind him. 

“Yes, thinking just doesn’t come naturally to some people”, you laughingly replied, sitting down next to Foreman. He scooched over, making more room for you and your tray. There was enough pasta on your plate to feed two, not to mention the salad, the dessert, the can of Coke and the can of energy drink. 

“Damn, kid, do you not have food at home?” You eyed Foreman, a little annoyed at the comment. Why did men think they had the right to comment on women’s food choices and bodies all the damn time? “Don’t give me that look, you know that’s a lot, especially for a girl who skips lunch every other day”. 

“Not by choice” you said, taking a lot of pasta into your mouth. “Nof ba chos”, you replied, mouth full, making everyone at the table let out a tired laugh. 

It was an uneventful meal. The team was really tired, especially Chase, who almost dropped his head on his plate twice. The four of you rushed upstairs when lunch was over, after being paged by your boss. 

The man himself was pacing back and forth in the conference room, brows furrowed and looking extremely aggravated. Nothing new, then, you think, sitting down across from Cameron. 

Allison Cameron and you had been friends since med school, and getting to work together was pretty nice. Women in STEM need each other, of that you were sure. The thing is, she was in a weird place romantically, which made you feel weird about getting along with the people about whom she was confused — which hardly makes sense, but it is what it is. She had a crush on your boss for the longest time, and that didn’t work out at all. And then there was Chase, who she had slept with, but had no interest in further pursuing. 

Hanging out with Chase knowing he’d seen her naked was a little weird, but the fact they’d slept together wasn’t the problem. He liked her, and that was her problem. Your boss, well, he was everybody’s problem. 

Particularly yours, considering… you know. The one-night-that-became-every-night. The HR-nightmare. The doing-the-devil’s-tango. The seeing-each-other-scars. The kissing-and-absolutely-not-telling.

It was fairly easy sneaking around. He was inappropriate, sure, but not big on PDA. He treated you like any other dumbass employee with boobs. If anyone saw the two of you leaving the hospital together? You worked together. If you were seen going towards the same place? You’re neighbors, duh. And if anyone happened to see the two of you having breakfast together in the little café a block around his place? Well, it was a coincidence meeting him there! 

If they saw you giving him head while he tried to play the piano, well… There’s no explanation for that. 

You looked at him coming and going, and you knew his leg must be killing him. Yesterday when you left his home in the morning to pick up your stuff for the day (which turned out to be the day, the night and the next day), he was popping more pills than usual. Shit. 

“New case?”, Cameron asked, looking at the limping man with worry and care in her eyes. You liked her a lot, but she had to stop thinking about your limping man with such care. 

Sure, she liked him first. And she probably worried for him just as she would anyone else. And it was ridiculous to be annoyed at your long-time friend for caring for her boss. Still, there was a sting of jealousy that made you want to bitch-slap her. 

He finally stopped and looked at all of you. When his eyes finally met you, he looked right at your low cut top and let out a “Yowza!”. When you blushed and stood up to pick your white coat, he called your last name, and said, nonchalantly: “Nice boobs”. 

You raised a hand to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you sat down. It might seem like sexual harassment — and at first, it was a little bit —, but now it was just him being as inappropriate as always. Hiding from his feelings, keeping his distance with pathetic remarks and cold attitudes. It made you sad when you started working for him, but right now, you pinched your nose to stop you from giggling like a sixteen year old cheerleader being noticed by the boy on the football team. Or rather, the boy on the bench cursing at the stupid players.

Dr. Gregory House had a massive crush on you, and that made all the shit he did go away. 

You realized Chase started updating House on the patient you spent all night testing and monitoring. Truth is, that guy didn’t stand a chance for a normal life here on forward. At best, he had a benign hereditary chorea. Worst case scenario, it was Huntington manifesting earlier than it should, as you’d been saying from the beginning. 

“Shut up”, House said to Chase, making those blue Australian eyes widen. Poor guy, he looked beyond exhausted. “I understand how DNA testing works. I went to med school too, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was seven hundred years ago”, you let out before you could think twice. You teased House a little for being older. Scratch that, you gave him a lot of crap for being older. You just didn’t do it in front of the team, which was why they all looked at you horrified. 

Horrified, but Foreman was holding in a laugh.

The ‘old-man’ hit his cane on the desk, turning the attention back to him. “Ouch”.

You smiled, playing it off like a remark made by an exhausted overworked young woman who disliked her boss. House half-screamed some orders to all of you, even though he already knew you had clinic duty. 

The hours left to finish on the clinic were manageable, so you could finish it after you did some of the tests House asked.  

Time passed by too quickly, and as your day went by, you remembered you had to talk to Wilson as soon as possible. It wasn’t a life or death matter, but a peace of mind kind of thing. You decided to stop by his office before you It was then that you overheard something you shouldn’t have.

Well, that brought the high school memories right back. 

It was the middle of the afternoon, also known as the beginning of your third shift in a row, and you were stopping by Wilson’s office to discuss a private matter. A family member of yours had cancer, and then another one. By the time your fourth relative came down with the diagnosis, you decided to check your genetic predisposition. Although the tests came back clean, meaning you were safe for oncology purposes, you still wanted to know his opinion on how you could be even safer.

You looked cancer in the eyes many times. You didn’t want to look at it in the mirror too. 

For some godly reason, you stopped before knocking. That’s when you recognized your boss’s voice, complaining about something, per usual. 

“She’s a baby! She had never watched Grease, for crying out loud”, the voice and the footsteps made their sounds in harmony. You leaned in closer to the door, to try and listen better. 

“Well, you two barely know each other, now it’s the time to know if there’s a future in this relationship or not. And would you ever marry her?”, Wilson’s voice, and the words made you freeze. 

“Not everyone has marriage on the brain 24/7, Wilson”, House replied. Even from behind the door, you could almost hear the engines in his brain turning. “And God, no. I could never marry her. I can do better than a gullible third-world princess”.

You froze.

Of course he’d say that. Of course. Even if he didn’t mean it. 

The realization came like an electrical shock flowing through your body. You felt it, and it made the hairs on the nape of your neck rise. 

You meant nothing to him. 

As an immigrant, the feeling of never belonging is constant. You don’t belong in the place you now live, but you don’t really belong in the place you were born. 

You had felt for a fraction of a second that you could find your place here. In House's department. Perhaps, even with House. God, you were stupid. You were a device for him to finish his puzzles, and an object to finish… Well, to finish himself off. 

As you left your transe and heard the voices again, you ran as fast as you could back to the clinic, where you had a couple hours left to finish. There was something you needed to arrange with Cuddy, too. 

Hours later, you were in the department’s room reading some exams when House walked in. 

He eyed you up and down again, eyes lingering on your breasts a little longer than a boss’ eyes normally would. “So”, he took his bootle from his jacket and opened it, popping a couple of pills, “your place or mine?” 

“You suck”, you murmured, angrily, but pouting a little. He’d never admit it, but he loved seeing you a little aggravated, crossing your arms in front of your body in a way that made your already eye-catching torso irresistible. 

He smiled a little, putting the medicine back in his pocket. “No, sweetheart”, he now fully grinned, “that’s you.”

You rolled your eyes, but let your arms fall and a cold smile creeped into your face. 

“Yes, I do, actually”, you rose up from the chair and walked all the way towards him, hitting your hand towards his chest and pressing the paper you were holding against him. “I’m a full on sucker, and ass-kisser, as you like to point out. That’s why your so called mortal enemy offered me a job in New York”. 

He took the paper, blue eyes never leaving yours. 

“Consider this my two weeks notice”. It was hard to say, but it felt a little good, too. Logically, there were no downsides in this opportunity. Then, why did it hurt so much? “I guess everyone was right. I can do better”.

The double meaning was not lost on House. 

Your hand finally left his chest, and he didn’t look back as you left. 

Looking at it now, it all seems so simple. It never is, though, is it? Especially with House. And you, an intelligent, kind, talented and ambitious young woman, could definitely do better than attach yourself to a crippled, bitter, odious older man. 

You were doing better now. So, why, pray tell, why did this still hurt so much? 

[crossingthedreams]

masterlist

* = indicates smut

house m.d.

not enough - james wilson x f!reader*

angstober 2024

day 01 - again (joel miller x reader)

day 02 - countdown (marcus acacius x f!reader)

day 03 - self-destruction (aemond targaryen x sister!reader)*

day 04 - blood (the ghoul x f!reader)

day 05 - do better (doctor gregory house x f!reader)

day 06 - medication (doctor gregory house x f!reader)

day 07 - you still don't get it (joel miller x f!reader)*

day 08 - growing pains (aemond targaryen x niece!reader)

day 09 - promise (javier peña x f!reader)

day 10 - humiliation (aemond targaryen x niece!sister)

day 11 - wake up (marcus acacius x f!reader)

day 12 - rotten touch (joel miller x f!reader)

day 13 - shaking (javier peña x f!reader)

day 14 - only around you (aemond targaryen x niece!reader)

day 15 - false hope (gregory house x f!reader)

day 16 - no one else to turn to (aemond targaryen x sister-wife!reader)

day 17 - shh... (dbf!joel miller x f!reader)

day 18 - falling stars (javier peña x f!reader)

day 25 - spare me (javier peña x f!reader)

random writings (no fandom)

back when I was living for the hope of it all

smoke on my clothes