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prettygirlhourss · 1 year

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Stop Me.

Pairing: Dr. James Wilson x female!reader, slight House x reader if you blink

Warnings: 18+, future spicyness (if a part 2 is requested 👀), swearing, infidelity, slight voyeurism

Summary: Dr. Wilson needs some stress relief from work and his personal life, and you’re just the person to remedy the situation. But will he stop you, or does he need a little push?

He was sitting at his desk, writing off his signature on some papers. I watched him work for a moment.

He was always involved in his work—slaving hour after hour keeping people alive, delivering bad news, starting treatments, trying to make sense of the medical prognosis for his patients.

He was a saint, a man full of heart and love and grit. Quite the opposite of House. But that is what made them best friends; polar opposites did in fact attract like magnets.

He rubbed one eye, looking more exhausted than usual. I knew that look—he had gotten in another debate with House, and judging by the tension wrinkles by his forehead, he was losing the debate.

I smirked. Perhaps taking some of that tension off would help him side-step a future aneurysm.

I knocked softly on the door. Dr. Wilson glanced up, double-taking when he noticed it was me.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s great. I just—had a question to ask you.”

He continued his writing. “Come on in. I’m just finishing up some progress reports. Have a seat, and I’ll finish up shortly.”

I obliged, closing his office door and subtly locking it while closing the blinds. I took the seat in front of him and watched him work up close. I would have preferred the seat in his lap, but it was all in good time. I had all the patience in the world.

While Dr. Wilson scribbled more things down, I briefly thought back to my interrogation with House.

“Does Dr. Wilson like his wife?”

House doesn’t flinch at the question. He tosses his ball in the air. “He likes lots of things. He likes work, he likes to subject me to his sappy lectures on client sensitivity—things that I’m better off without. Now Julie, Julie is” —a shrug— “kind of a bitch. But I’m biased.”

I hum. He pauses his ball-throwing. “Why? Do you like his wife too?”

I smirk into my tea mug. “Nope.”

House turns to me, a wicked smile on his features. “You like him.”

I return a smile. “Everybody likes him.”

House lets out a concocted noise that straddles a scoff and a grunt. “Yeah, because Mr. ‘Teddy Bear Puppy Eyes That Pukes Rainbows’ just doesn’t know how to set boundaries, that’s why people like him.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You set boundaries?”

“I thought my charming personality made that quite obvious.”

“Are you jealous?”

House eyes me back. “Are you?”

I quizzically ponder that. Am I?

I smile. “No, not jealous. He’s good at his job. He’s kind. Very handsome, too.”

House scoffs again. “I am a good two-thirds of those things. Why aren’t you begging me for a dinner date?”

I shoot him an innocent doe-eyed look, one that would make even Dr. Chase buckle in the knees. “Because I want to fuck Wilson, not you.”

If House is shocked at my wording, he doesn’t show it. He instead looks slightly wounded, putting a hand on his heart. Then once the words sink in, he is wildly interested, perhaps even turned on. He leans closer to me in his chair.

“You want to bed the hospital’s little angel philanthropist? Now pray tell me, Y/L/N, and in full detail, what makes you think you can accomplish such a forbidden act?”

The memory faded out at the sound of Dr. Wilson’s pen being placed in the small cup of other pens and pencils on his desk.

He folded his hands on top of the sleek wood, looking quite businesslike. My God, I wanted to ruin him.

“So what kind of question did you have for me?” A withered look crossed his face. “Is House sending you to poke fun at me?”

I smirked at him. “Not at all, sir. I’m here of my own volition.”

Dr. Wilson looks relieved with a smidgen of humor. “Wonderful. So, what can I do for you?”

You can do whatever you want to me, I almost say.

I licked my lips, trying to think of how to word my questions.

“I…hope this doesn’t come across as nosy, but it has occurred to me a few days ago that I don’t really know you very well.”

Wilson raised his eyebrows. He then smiled courteously. “Well, I’m not as eccentric as others, but I surely don’t mind answering any questions you might want to ask me.”

I smiled back. “Really? You don’t mind me asking?”

His smile was kind. “Of course not. If I know your intentions, I know it’s not through ill intent. I’m an open book.”

I swallowed, suddenly a little nervous. He really didn’t think me to be so vicious toward him. It was just a question anyway. What could hurt asking? Better to hear it from him than some other person. Like House.

I licked my lips again. “I—I was just curious about your love life.”

This question he wasn’t prepared for. Wilson’s eyebrows shot upward, his eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to recover. I couldn’t help it; he looked monstrously adorable when he was flustered.

Wilson gave a small chuckle. “Uh, well, I know it’s a little private to ask about that. But uh—“

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Wilson put his hands up. “No! No, don’t be sorry. It was an honest question. Just one I didn’t expect, of course.”

I gave him a shy smile, hoping it spurred him on. And turned him on. What was he even in to?

Wilson took a breath as he considered his response. “Well… what do you know thus far?”

That was a question I didn’t expect either. I blinked at him.

“How do you mean?”

Wilson’s smile was crooked. “You spend lots of time in House’s office, I’m sure he’s spilled some sort of outrageous and inappropriate lie about my love life.”

I quirked my mouth up. “I thought House never lied.”

Wilson gave me a pointed look. “Surely you don’t believe that.”

I shrugged. “He’s right most of the time. Cruel, yes. But right nonetheless.”

Wilson scratched his neck, trying not to look curious. “So what has he said to you?”

Almost forgetting my original plan, I leaned forward, giving Wilson a daring look. “Why does it matter what he’s said to me? Am I not here to get your own account on your own love life?”

Wilson gave me a playful smile, one that shot straight down to my groin.

“You wouldn’t be in here questioning me if he hadn’t said something that piqued your interest.”

Goddamn. He was an intelligent bastard. It was sexy. And what on God’s green earth should pique my interest so much? What was he hiding from me?

I huffed a quiet laugh and crossed my legs. “I already told you I’m here if my own volition. Does House have to be the main cause and effect of my interest in you?”

“He says some very brazen things when prompted. Did you ask him about my love life first?”

I mocked hurt as I put a hand to my chest, much like House had done. “I thought you knew my intentions.”

Wilson didn’t drop the boyish playful smile on his face. God.

“Perhaps I have been infiltrated. Maybe he was the one who asked and sent you to do the dirty work.”

Oh I’d be putting in the dirty work, all right.

I sighed dramatically. “Dr. Wilson, I thought we were friends. I would never joined cahoots with House willingly. That would be a betrayal of my ethical rights, as well as my human rights.”

Dr. Wilson let a deep chuckle escape his lips. He was making this difficult to be patient.

After smiling at each other for a moment too long, I swallowed and folded my hands in my lap like a perfect church girl.

“But you have yet to answer my question.”

Dr. Wilson’s smile was kind again. “Before I answer, I do want to know why you are curious.”

“Because I don’t know you.”

“Yes, you said that. But if you’re telling me the truth in that House isn’t involved in this quest, you should at least tell me why you’re diving into a personal matter like this.”

That was fair. I rubbed my thumb on my wrist.

“Well, if you want my full honesty, it’s because I’m attracted to you.”

Surprises were my main talent of the evening, and poor Dr. Wilson was my handsome victim. The man once again rose his eyebrows and parted his lips. “I…I see.”

My cheeks flushed at the disconcerting honesty he forced me into. He was a renowned doctor in his field; he was smart and gentle and exuded professionalism. Why wouldn’t he have girls throwing themselves at him?

I chucked nervously. “I’m sorry to be so bold. I’m just a little confused at your shock. You act as if girls don’t fall for you every week.”

Dr. Wilson tried to gather himself, a pink hue now highlighting his cheeks. “Ah, forgive me. I didn’t mean to go silent. I just….I never expected someone like you to admit that to me.”

That took me by surprise. We shared in a talent. “What do you mean? Because I’m your colleague?”

He chuckled anxiously. “You know very well what I mean. You’re young, you’re smart and pretty. You’re in the years of your prime and you’ve just started an excellent job with an excellent diagnostician.”

I folded my arms. “I’m still not understanding your objective.”

Wilson looked exasperated.

“You should be scrambling for men in your age demographic, not men like me.”

I tilted my head. “And what do you mean by ‘men like you’?”

Wilson tugged at his tie, looking embarrassed. It was slightly charming, knowing he could lose his cool so effortlessly.

“Men like me are…in a different category. We’re older, we tire out faster, we get married and have kids, we sleep too much, we work too much.”

I scooted to the end of my seat, getting closer to him. “You just get older. What’s the harm in that?”

Wilson took a deep, calculated breath and looked at me so sincerely that I nearly cried. “I’m not a prime man, Y/N. I’m on my third marriage already, and I’m nearing my third divorce. You should be after someone who can share the prime with you, someone like Dr. Chase. You shouldn’t be attracted to me. You just see the doctor before you see the man.”

Well, this was entirely unfair of him to say. I stood up slowly.

“With all due respect, James, I can make up my own mind about who I find attractive. Dr. Chase might be easy on the eyes, but he’s a biased little snot who stereotypes his patients. Definitely not trying to buy a big white dress any time soon for him.”

I stepped closer to his desk.

“And another thing. I never said I wanted to marry you. I know you aren’t perfect. Hell, I could sue you for malpractice just as much as House.”

Dr. Wilson looked like he was about to argue his case, but I held up a hand.

“I’m not finished. The point is, I came in here to ask you about your love life because on the off chance you weren’t happy, I would have liked to save you a therapy visit and help take off some of that stress myself.”

Wilson frowned. “What on earth do you mean by that?”

Good God, was he dense? How he even married? Three times at that?

I put my hands on the desk, leaning forward. He watched me carefully. With hooded eyes, I blinked softly at him.

“I want to fuck you, James.”

At this audacious confession, Wilson sat still as a statue, confounded in his chair. He blinked and tried to speak, but only opened and closed his mouth.

I licked my lips. This time his eyes watched the movement.

I smiled sweetly and rounded his desk slowly, taking my time toward him.

Wilson began to anxiously grab at his tie again. He was nervous. Good, I wanted him to be.

I stopped just short of his legs. His Adams apple bobbed in his throat. His eyes darted to his office door.

“Relax. I locked it for good measure.”

Wilson’s jaw flexed as he fiddled with his tie some more. I felt brief sympathy for making him so nervous. But the nervous look amplified his bewitching features.

“I’m married, Y/N.”

“You don’t love her.”

His throat bobbed again. “This is highly inappropriate. You’re putting your job at stake. I’m one of your bosses.”

“So stop me.”

Wilson’s eyes were a deep brown color. Guilt, confusion, anxiety, and affliction swam in the sea of his pupils. More importantly however, one emotion that trumped all the rest, was lust. Lust and curiosity.

It was in the way his pupils had dilated. The blush on his face hadn’t gone away. It became him. He was adorable. He was deeply sexy.

I reached out and held onto his tie. He swallowed. I held his gaze as I pulled him forward, bringing him closer to me.

“Stop me,” I repeated quietly.

I paused about a breath away. Our noses almost touched. A bead of sweat was about to escape down his temple. I waited for a moment to see if he would pull back. He didn’t.

I tilted my chin forward, brushing my lips on his. He shuddered.

“Stop me.”

Wilson’s jaw trembled at the proximity. I used my other hand to gently reach up and brush his hot cheek. He shivered.

I briefly thought back to House’s words, remembering his rant about Wilson not setting boundaries. As much as I wanted to ruin him—punish him and have him pleading—I also didn’t want this to be one-sided.

“Tell me you want this, James. I’ll gladly step away if you don’t want me furthering this.”

Wilson’s chest was heaving from panting. His eyes blinked up at me, large and full of shiny neediness.

“Words, James.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Pl-Please.”

“Yes?” My hand skimmed over his jaw and down his neck.

Wilson took an unsteady breath and closed his eyes, looking overwhelmed at my touch.

“I—I need you. Please.”

That was enough for me.

As our lips met, a soft sigh escaped Wilson. His lips were soft, pillowy and sweet. He tasted like coffee and peppermint chapstick.

A large, shaking hand found its place on my hip, toying experimentally with the bottom hem of my shirt.

I stepped closer to him, making him part his long legs to give me the access. I gripped his tie a little harder as his other hand came up to cradle my other hip.

As his hands circled my back and pushed me toward him, I scrambled my legs outside of him to straddle him in the chair. His hands continued to shake as he slid them under my shirt, burying his face into my neck. I tilted for better access.

It was at this moment that I should have stopped, or even panicked. While I did lock his office door and shielded the blinds from nosy on-lookers, I wasn’t thinking too hard of the small back patio that catty-cornered another office’s back patio.

I was hastened to remember the error of my mistake as I made eye-contact with the very result of it. Watching my intimate exchange with Dr. Wilson was none other than his polar opposite, his intrusive blue eyes observing us.

I swallowed, refusing to look away. House tilted his head forward, smirking slightly. He was challenging me to continue. With a small wink in his direction, I moved my hands to Wilson’s head and tilted his head back to kiss him on the mouth again.

My eyes never left House.

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