House fic: Checklist
Title: Checklist
Fandom: House, M.D
Characters/Pairings: Cuddy, Cuddy/Cameron
Interests: ivy, snow, sleep
Word Count: 548
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Summary: If there’s one thing that’s for certain, it’s that you don’t know her. You know nothing other than the facts. She works for House. She’s had a thing for the jackass (you can hold this over him now) and her idealism can be more than nauseating. But even that’s changed and you’re faced with an enigmatic woman that happens to make you scream when she’s between your legs.
Author's Notes: For cardbordviolnce ♥
For women the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time. Isabel Allende
You notice the tattoo on her hip the second time. Somewhere between starting a checklist and wondering what the hell you’re doing, you spot it in the dim light of your bedroom. And you add it to the things you like.
Really like.
“… roads are closed- blizzard-”
There’s snow. Too much snow and so being the practice, sensible woman that you are (it has nothing to do with getting laid again), you tell Cameron- Allison to stay the night. Without thinking.
She’s sleeping now, sheets tangled around her long legs. Pale skin. You start to muse romanticism, but stop because you haven’t been that sentimental since college and when the alcohol was terrible. But you like the way she looks in your bed. You like the way her hair falls in dark waves and spills against her skin and your sheets.
But it’s the tattoo that has you this time.
If there’s one thing that’s for certain, it’s that you don’t know her. You know nothing other than the facts. She works for House. She’s had a thing for the jackass (you can hold this over him now) and her idealism can be more than nauseating. But even that’s changed and you’re faced with an enigmatic woman that happens to make you scream when she’s between your legs.
This is an added piece to the puzzle.
It’s a simple design, a curl of lush, green ivy winding around the curve of her hip. Your fingers brush against her skin and there’s a soft moan from the younger woman as she moves closer to you. Your lips curl.
“What time is it?” She breathes.
“You have a tattoo.”
Her lips curl, but her eyes don’t open. “I do.”
Your hand moves from the curve of her hip down to her thigh. She shifts and the sheets tangle even more, causing you to move your hand and push her onto her back.
“Curious, that’s all.”
And she laughs, soft and husky. You push yourself onto your knees, your mouth meeting hers as you straddle her. You slide your tongue into her mouth, tasting her greedily. There’s a moan and hiss and your hands come to cup her breasts, your thumbs stroking her nipples.
You don’t have to like her idealism. But you do like the way her lips part and she gives you that lazy moan, a coil of air that curls around you and makes you want to fuck her even more.
“You’re curious about my tattoo?”
You laugh at the question, pressing your mouth against her throat. You close your lips over a patch of skin and start to suck, causing her to mew and twist. You trail your fingers against the flat of her stomach as one of her legs slides between yours.
Your fingers brush against the tuft of curls between her leg and she moans. You smirk and nip at her throat. You like how she reacts. Instant. And never small. It makes you greedy.
“I just want to know,” you begin, sliding a finger against her clit. Your mouth moves from her throat to the dip between her breasts. “I just want to know why I didn’t notice the first time.”
She manages a husky laugh. And you grin.
You like making checklists.
end.
Fandom: House, M.D
Characters/Pairings: Cuddy, Cuddy/Cameron
Interests: ivy, snow, sleep
Word Count: 548
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Summary: If there’s one thing that’s for certain, it’s that you don’t know her. You know nothing other than the facts. She works for House. She’s had a thing for the jackass (you can hold this over him now) and her idealism can be more than nauseating. But even that’s changed and you’re faced with an enigmatic woman that happens to make you scream when she’s between your legs.
Author's Notes: For cardbordviolnce ♥
For women the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time. Isabel Allende
You notice the tattoo on her hip the second time. Somewhere between starting a checklist and wondering what the hell you’re doing, you spot it in the dim light of your bedroom. And you add it to the things you like.
Really like.
“… roads are closed- blizzard-”
There’s snow. Too much snow and so being the practice, sensible woman that you are (it has nothing to do with getting laid again), you tell Cameron- Allison to stay the night. Without thinking.
She’s sleeping now, sheets tangled around her long legs. Pale skin. You start to muse romanticism, but stop because you haven’t been that sentimental since college and when the alcohol was terrible. But you like the way she looks in your bed. You like the way her hair falls in dark waves and spills against her skin and your sheets.
But it’s the tattoo that has you this time.
If there’s one thing that’s for certain, it’s that you don’t know her. You know nothing other than the facts. She works for House. She’s had a thing for the jackass (you can hold this over him now) and her idealism can be more than nauseating. But even that’s changed and you’re faced with an enigmatic woman that happens to make you scream when she’s between your legs.
This is an added piece to the puzzle.
It’s a simple design, a curl of lush, green ivy winding around the curve of her hip. Your fingers brush against her skin and there’s a soft moan from the younger woman as she moves closer to you. Your lips curl.
“What time is it?” She breathes.
“You have a tattoo.”
Her lips curl, but her eyes don’t open. “I do.”
Your hand moves from the curve of her hip down to her thigh. She shifts and the sheets tangle even more, causing you to move your hand and push her onto her back.
“Curious, that’s all.”
And she laughs, soft and husky. You push yourself onto your knees, your mouth meeting hers as you straddle her. You slide your tongue into her mouth, tasting her greedily. There’s a moan and hiss and your hands come to cup her breasts, your thumbs stroking her nipples.
You don’t have to like her idealism. But you do like the way her lips part and she gives you that lazy moan, a coil of air that curls around you and makes you want to fuck her even more.
“You’re curious about my tattoo?”
You laugh at the question, pressing your mouth against her throat. You close your lips over a patch of skin and start to suck, causing her to mew and twist. You trail your fingers against the flat of her stomach as one of her legs slides between yours.
Your fingers brush against the tuft of curls between her leg and she moans. You smirk and nip at her throat. You like how she reacts. Instant. And never small. It makes you greedy.
“I just want to know,” you begin, sliding a finger against her clit. Your mouth moves from her throat to the dip between her breasts. “I just want to know why I didn’t notice the first time.”
She manages a husky laugh. And you grin.
You like making checklists.
end.