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stxrshxpxd · 6 months

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”thats my girl!” part 2

part 1

pairing: dr house x reader

word count: 1.5k

prompt: house and reader have both stayed late and found themselves, tired and worked up in one way or another, in his office

”You’re in my chair.”

I glanced up from my papers with several pens in my hands, one of them tiredly making notes in the patient’s file, and a last one between my teeth. I couldn’t remember I had put it there, what with it being my twelfth consecutive hour at the hospital, but I dropped it when I had to respond.

“Yes, it does the fun spinny thing,” I said in a joyless tone, staring down at the words that were beginning to not look like words anymore. House waddled up to plant his palm on his desk and blink down at me.

“Well, you can have the chair as long as I get to be in-between you and it.”

I thought House had gone home long ago. Just about everyone else had. The halls and his office were dark and the world outside was pitch black as of nearly five hours ago.

“Mhm,” I hummed nonchalantly and laid the side of my aching head in my palm. Staring at the old medical records and documented symptoms of our patient, I dotted my pen in the margin as I tried to think.

“Hey, spiraling into insanity trying to solve the case is my thing! Get your own shtick!” House snapped in a joking upset voice. I stared down still but was distracted by his hand in front of me and his index finger that mindlessly tapped on the desk, and the veins on the back of his hand and up his forearm.

He was impossible and an asshole and sociopathic on a good day, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive. There was something about his intelligence, quick wit and superiority that secretly drew me in. But I refused to give in. I knew I could never forgive my lack of self-respect if I were to cave and sleep with him. The only way to get over it, I had always thought, would be to demystify him by getting on his level.

“When were you planning on going home?” he asked. Had I not known better I would’ve thought I detected concern in his voice. I looked up and studied the sharp shadows on his scruffy face. He himself was apparently planning on going home soon, having stuck his biker jacket on.

“Maybe when the patient dies,” I joked tiredly.

“Hm, well, then you might as well start looking at the next case instead,” House said and shrugged as he reached to the end of his desk for a stack of thin folders. I detected a snarkiness now, which I knew was part of his usual repertoire. It enraged me an unjustified amount and I stood up suddenly, nearly crashing the top of my head into his chin.

“I’m gonna save him,” I argued and pointed my finger into House’s firm chest.

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re the one who said he’s gonna die,” he chuckled and raised his one hand in surrender. “Also, haven’t you ever heard there’s no ‘I’ in ‘team’?” he added in yet another silly tone, tilting his head down at me. We seemed to end up in this position a lot, I reflected. His pale eyes stared down at me in silence and I recognised he was putting two and two together in his head.

“What’s your obsession with being better than me?” he asked bluntly even though he had the answer. “You wanna put yourself above me and knock me off my pedestal, so that you don’t have to idolise and romanticise me anymore. Oh, this must be killing you.”

“Why do you ask questions you already have the answer to?” I countered, ignoring his calling me out. His smirk had grown wide on his lips.

“So that is the answer?”

“I’m going home,” I declared and shoved past him. My brain was fried and I had no witty one-liners left to throw in his face, plus my own face was growing red at his accusations.

“You can just say you wanna sleep with me,” he teased and I saw his arms were open in a conceited manner when I turned around quickly.

“Can you for once talk to me like I’m a human being with a brain and not a piece of meat?” I asked, trying to contain my frustration. He stood in the shade of my body but I could see him narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Please, you look at me like I’m a piece of meat too. I see the way you undress me in your mind all the time. As we all know by now; I’m not stupid,” House said daringly. It drove me crazy that he still wasn’t seeing the point and he was deflecting and refusing to give me an ounce of respect.

“You’re a jerk!” I stated and closed the gap between us, impulsively shoving him by the shoulders and catching his balance off guard. He was forced to step back with his bad leg and hissed in pain, before instinctively grabbing a hold of my arm for support as his back slammed against the wall behind him. I was pulled with him and crashed into his chest and his hand still gripped my arm tightly.

Suddenly I was in his space for real. All those times of staring up at his cocky face and just barely feeling his breath on my nose there apparently had been that last shred of a border between us. I hadn’t ever been aware of it but now it was gone and it was all I could think about. His heart beat against my chest and his breath was undeniably hitting my face and there was nothing holding me back from kissing him.

I enjoyed every time I had the upper hand with him, and now I did as I pressed a frustrated yet confident and harsh kiss against his mouth. He wouldn't ever be able to pull that kiss out of his lips, it was there forever. I realised though that he could give it back. And he did. He shoved his face harsher against mine and kissed me back while tightening his fist around my upper arm and holding me in my place. And a war broke out, both of us fighting to end up on top. Get the last kiss in, leave the most memorable mark, plant the most saliva in the other’s mouth, leave the nastiest sting of one’s teeth in the other’s lip.

My body was working quicker than my brain and before I knew it I was beginning to tear his jacket off. I could only get it half way off his arms before House’s phone rang loudly and startled us both. Pulled out of our cloud of lust, I let go of his jacket and took a step back. House fished the phone out of his pocket with a sigh. I saw Wilson’s name on his screen and he didn’t hesitate to click the call away. I laughed breathily at that and shook my head.

“I think he has cameras in my office. He’s jealous.”

“Of me that is,” I teased and he laughed shortly.

“Who else?” he was quick to joke along and those were the words that stayed hanging in the air as neither of us spoke for the next few, long seconds. House let out a soft sigh as he looked at me and pulled his jacket up to hang off his shoulders again. I stepped back to lean against the desk behind me and my gaze hopped around the room.

“Why do you think you’re on my team?” House asked at last but it was rhetorical. He raised his brows at me to make a point. “Obviously you’re incredibly intelligent and a fantastic doctor.”

He kept sighing as if this was the hardest thing he had ever had to say and it made me chuckle quietly behind my serious face. I looked him in the eye and we nodded at one another silently, both barely smiling. Then his phone rang again and he rolled his eyes as he pulled it out.

“Bright and early, 8 tomorrow!” House joked and pointed at me before he began walking out towards his office door. I laughed, knowing he hadn’t ever showed up at work before 10 am.

“We stopped kissing!” he answered Wilson’s call with mock annoyance. “You know, you’re gonna have to man up and put a ring on it if you want me to stop running around with other people,” he joked and I could practically hear Wilson’s confused sigh on the other end of the line as House disappeared down the hallway and I was left alone again, absentmindedly trailing my fingertips along my bottom lip.

#give me all the angst and passion!!!!!#kind of rivals to lovers vibes 🤭#house #house md #gregory house #dr house #fic #imagine #angst #smut #dr house x reader

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michelle-is-writing · 1 month

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Concussions, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

Warnings: mentions of vomit, concussion, hospital rooms.

Arguing with your boss is one of the worst things you can do with your boss. For my boyfriend of almost a year, it was nothing new. Plus, in Greg's mind, there were worse things one could do with their time. Like argue with me, his girlfriend - that was much worse than arguing with his boss, according to him.

Still, that didn't mean that he could always get away with arguing with his boss. Especially around Christmas time when the hours were needed and he just so happened to be an asshole. Anyone could figure out why I was upset when he told me he was unable to get Christmas Day off. He just had to be rude to Cuddy the day before he asked, and because of it, we both have to suffer.

Despite him promising to call me almost every hour, I still felt lonely when it came to Christmas Day. I woke up without the love of my life beside me, and I'll be alone until he gets home around nine in the evening. When Cuddy told him she couldn't give up the hours, he was especially rude in response, therefore earning more hours to work that day.

Right now it's around eleven in the morning, and even though I've put on a Christmas movie and made myself hot cocoa, I still feel sad. I have no one to spend this great day with, and it sucks. Maybe a nice walk outside will help me feel better. It's cold and snowing, but I can always wear a heavy coat and boots - no biggie. Besides, I may even see a pair of cardinals flying through the white sky like a holiday card straight from the hallmark section, and it would make the weather all the worth it.

Slipping on my fuzzy black boots that Greg got me at the beginning of our relationship, I throw on my fleece coat before heading out front. The lights strung on everyone's apartment are lit up, and the people that have their Christmas trees in front of their windows have them lit up as well. The green and red bulbs are a nice contrast to the white snow that fills every window sill and yard, making it look almost like a floating blanket on all the little segments of grass. It's such a beautiful sight to see, but it makes me miss Greg even more. He's always pessimistic, but even he would be happy with the looks of everything.

Stepping off the steps and onto the pavement, I take a few steps forward, only to look up and see a pair of cardinals flying above me just like I wanted. I marvel at the beautiful red shade of the male next to the equally beautiful olive colored female floating next to it. When they find their mates, a pair of cardinals can never be separated as they are mated for life. The idea of such a thing makes you smile, but the idea of finding your own true mate? It feels nearly impossible.

I seem to find the cardinals very distracting as the next thing I see is the pure white sky above me as I feel myself slip, my arms and legs flailing to grab onto something as I fall backward. However, they don't, and I end up landing on my back with my head colliding against the ice I slipped on. Everything happens so fast that I barely recognize the pain rushing to my cranium or mine and Greg's elderly neighbor rushing toward me as concerned words flow out of her mouth. Despite wanting to respond, I can't, and instead, my eyes close as I feel myself slip into a vast sea on unconsciousness.

It isn't until I finally wake up once again that I register the pounding pain in the back of my head. It nearly makes my eyes roll back, but before I can even do that, I quickly lean over the edge of the surface I'm lying on and feel the contents of my stomach empty. I soon feel a pair of hands gently pull my hair back as I do so, my eyes clearing up enough to watch a nurse’s legs in purple scrubs quickly push a trash can in front of me to finish vomiting into. However, it doesn't take long before I’m done and I almost fall back onto the slightly stiff surface I'm on, a damp cloth wiping at my mouth once I do so. Flashing my eyes throughout the room, I recognize the bright fluorescent lights above me as ones used in a hospital room and the surface I'm on is one of the uncomfortable beds in a hospital room. Great.

Turning my eyes over to the source of the hand holding the wet cloth, I find it to be the man I've been wanting to see all morning, a worried look etched onto his face. I want to fling myself in his arms and hug him, but my almost drunken haze prohibits me from doing so. Instead, I languidly smile and tiredly reach a hand up toward him, to which he takes in his own hand with a small smile.

"How in the hell," he begins, his voice taking over the almost stuffy noise in my ears. Gently running his thumb against the back of my hand, he takes the damp rag away from my face before tossing it onto the lid of the biohazard bin a few feet away. "Did you get yourself a grade two concussion just by walking outside?"

"I didn't mean to," I defend myself, trying to sit up a little, despite the deep pounding in my head. Greg helps me, but not before pushing my head back against the pillows to angle my face upward. "I just wanted to go for a small walk, and see some cardinals maybe! I did, by the way, and man, were they beautiful."

"You seem to be doing better than I thought," Greg points out, hovering over me to look into my eyes with a flash light. "No confusion or seemingly dizziness," he lists off. "You just seem fatigued and dazed, which is to be expected. The good news is you don't have memory loss."

"Who are you again?" I quickly throw at him, earning a downcast face with a frown. I immediately laugh at his reaction while reaching up to take his face in my hands, but his hands catch mine before they're even halfway there. I really am tired.

"I would say you're also having some psychological disturbances, but it's nothing different from usual," Greg jokes back, making me laugh again. At this, he smiles, but continues on. "How bad is your head pain?"

"Compared to the constant headache you give me, it's nothing," I tell him, once again, earning an eye roll in response. I know he's wanting to throw playful insults back at me, but he's trying to keep the moment as serious as he can. Don't get me wrong, I understand how severe my situation is, but I just can't help but take the chance to banter with Greg like he usually does with me.

With a sigh, Greg sits back in the armchair beside my hospital bed before taking something out of his pocket. "You just had to hit your head so you could end up in the hospital with me today," Greg chides, holding the rectangular box in his hand as he stares at it. "I guess irony plays a huge part in life's never ending game of... slipping and falling on ice!"

With his sarcastic comment, Greg pushes the box toward me as I smile at him, my hand reaching out to take the box from him. "Open it," Greg tells me, scooting his chair beside me to be closer to my bed. Doing as he says, I shakily unwrap the green ribbon from the box before slightly struggling to open it, my hands trembling from being asleep for so long.

With the maroon velvet box now open, I gasp upon seeing the diamond tennis bracelet shining back at me with the bright hospital room lights causing each beautiful crystal to sparkle like a thousand pieces of glitter. "Oh my God, Greg," I mutter, my eyes flashing over to him beside me. "This is... beyond gorgeous."

Smiling, Greg lifts one of his hands to brush my hair away from my face before using the other to take the bracelet out of the box and secure it around my wrist. "Merry Christmas," He tells me, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "I thought you would like this."

"I-I love it, Greg," I tell him, looking over at him with a frown. "But I don't have my gift for you! They're at the apartment and-and I wanted to give it to you so bad-"

Greg cuts me off from my rambling, an almost flabbergasted expression washing over his face. "Are you kidding?" He sarcastically asks me, reaching over to take my now diamond covered hand in his. "You ending up in the hospital with me is possibly the best thing you could do today, as morbid as it sounds," Crinkling my face at him with amusement, I shake my head at his demented words as he continues on. "This means I don't have to do what Cuddy says and stay in here with you and watch I Love Lucy."

Just as he says this, Greg takes the remote from the side table and turns the TV on, flipping through the channels before finding the show mentioned seconds earlier. Glancing away from our intertwined hands, I smile at Greg as he turns to look back at me as well. "I love you, Greg," I tell him, receiving a smile back before he leans over once more and presses a kiss to my cheek.

Sitting back in his chair, Greg keeps my hand in his as we both look over to the TV and watch as Lucy banters with Ricky just as Greg and I did moments ago. At this, I smile and ignore the pain in my head as I enjoy the positives of today despite being in a hospital. My loving partner beside me, a beautiful diamond bracelet on my wrist, and I Love Lucy reruns on the TV in front of us. As long as I'm with Greg, it doesn't matter where I spend my Christmas - just as long as he's by my side, I'll be fine.

#greg house #gregory house #house #dr house #greg house x reader #greg house imagine #greg house imagines #gregory house imagine #gregory house x reader #gregory house imagines #house md #house md x reader #house md imagine #house md imagines #dr house x reader #dr house imagine #dr house imagines

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mrgatotortuga · 8 months

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FOR GODS SAKE I HAVE READ EVERY SINGLE GOOD AND BAD FANFIC OF DR HOUSE IN THIS PLANET- I HAVE READ ALL IN A03, ALL IN TUMBLR AND ALL IN WATTPAD. AND I HAVENT FOUND A SINGLE MALE READER ONE, IM DESPERATE GOSH send help the hyperfixation is driving me mad

#dr house #dr house x reader #gregory house x male reader #gregory house x masc reader #gregory house x reader #gregory house #greg house #my man #greg house x reader #god help me #this man has me in a chokehold #I DONT KNOW WHERE ELSE TO LOOK #dr house md #and i domt want to read fanfics pf pther characters of hes the only thing o can think of #i cant believe hbo took it off #i have to be illegal now #MY MAN BBG

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hungryforpowernotfood · 2 months

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Making A Deal (Part 1)

Summary: House doesn't take the news of you wanting to quit your job at the hospital well, and he definitely doesn't take it well when you decide not to tell him why you're leaving.

You don't think it's any of his business, he thinks it is—the argument leads to you making a deal.

Warning(s): use of y/n & l/n (your name & last name), closeted reader, reader presenting as female throughout the fic & being referred to as a woman, House being House & making some comments that may come off as transphobic

Pairing(s): Greg House x ftm! Reader

Something felt off when you were growing up—you don’t remember exactly when you became aware of it. Over time, the feeling grew and grew, but you ignored it, and pushed it away.

Instead of the feeling, you focused all your time and energy on other things—grades, homework, friends, and your future.

It grew and grew, almost as if it were inside you. You went to school, and sometimes it got increasingly difficult to get up and put on a fake smile, but it all felt worth it because you were going to help people. And sometimes you grimaced when professors referred to you as “miss l/n”, but it all felt worth it because eventually, they would have to refer to you as “doctor”. And it felt jarring and uncomfortable to wear the blouses, and the heels, and the skirts, but you knew that one day you would be wearing a white coat and scrubs, and you wouldn’t be required to dress like that every day.

You mistook the feeling for a lot of things—being misunderstood, lonely, ambitious, depressed. Perhaps those came with the feeling, but you thought at one point it would stop. You thought that at one point: it’s got to stop.

And even when you realized what it truly was—your discomfort with living and presenting as female—you were damn good at hiding it, and you were a damn good doctor.

You were always able to spot what was wrong with a patient, but more importantly, you could tell when they were lying, or not telling you everything about a situation. You knew how to approach patients to make them more comfortable about sharing information with you—or at least you did most of the time.

This is what allowed you to succeed when you started working with House—you went from being bossed around because he thought you couldn’t do anything, to being bossed around because he thought you could get the patient to open up to you more than him.

You knew you would miss it, but you also knew you had to make a better life for yourself—which is why you decided to quit.

Today marked the start of your last week—you had exactly 7 more days to go. That didn’t mean you didn’t have any paperwork, though, and that’s exactly what you were working on when you heard what sounded like someone was hitting your office door with a stick.

Without waiting for a reply, House walked in, explaining why it sounded like something was hitting the door. He was probably lucky it was wood.

“Why is Cuddy under the impression that you are leaving?”

“Probably because I am.” You said, looking back at your work.

“And you weren’t planning on telling me?”

“Why would I?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because we work together, so you should tell me things.”

You glanced up at him, your brow raised.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Did Cuddy not tell you?”

“She told me you had ‘other life opportunities’.”

“You say that like you don’t believe it.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’s because it’s a lie and not a very good one either.”

You tilted your head. “You think it’s a lie?”

“Please, I know it’s a lie. You wouldn’t just quit for some impromptu opportunity, something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“So you’re leaving me to deal with Foreman, Chase, and Wilson alone over nothing?”

“Sure.” You said, looking back at your laptop.

House walked over to you and slammed your computer shut.

“What are you doing?” You shouted.

He picked up the laptop and hobbled to the other side of the room where he set it down.

“Give it back.” You ordered, getting up, and walking after him. He turned around quickly and blocked you with his cane.

“You’re not quitting.” He said.

“Why do you care?”

“Who said I care? I’m just trying to keep one good doctor in the ring.”

“Well, clearly you talked to Cuddy, so you know the notice is already in, and this is my last week.”

“Redact it.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m going to find out anyway.”

Your heart pounded at the idea of him ever finding out, but you simply shook your head.

“You think I won’t?”

You thought about it, before answering “Not any time soon.”

“That sounded like a challenge.”

“It wasn’t.” You stated.

“Let’s make a deal.”

You raised your brow. “A deal.”

“Yes, a deal. If I find out why you’re leaving before the end of the week, you have to stay. If I don’t, then you can leave.”

You thought about it for a moment. “If you can’t figure it out, you don’t get to bother me about it again.”

He paused for a moment. “If I can, you have to do what I say for a day.”

You held back a scoff—it felt like you did that anyway—if he did figure it out, it wouldn’t be any different from the previous times. “Deal.” You said, holding out your hand for him to shake.

He briefly took your hand, and said “deal,” before leaving the room.

As the week went on, House had several theories written on the whiteboard and didn't take any cases—meaning you ended up doing them for him and took Wilson, Foreman, and Chase with you. Sometimes one of them would go in, and report that he was snappy (as usual) and that he insisted you were hiding something.

By your last day, House hadn’t come to you with any accusations, so you weren’t surprised when you heard a similar thwack against wood before your door was opened.

“I figured it out,” House said gruffly, closing the door behind him.

“Did you?”

“You’re trans.”

Your heart raced. “What?”

“Your chest is flat. I thought I was just seeing things, but then I saw a picture of you from last year. Your chest is flat now, you didn’t think anyone would care or notice, because you put in your two weeks' notice, and you thought ‘What the hell, I’m leaving in a few days, no point in wearing a stuffed bra to work every day’.

“Your closet contains mostly feminine clothing—overly feminine, in fact—I’m guessing because your parents never let you wear girly clothes as a child. I noticed your bathroom doesn’t have any hygienic products because you don’t need them, and you don’t use the washrooms here because you’re afraid of someone figuring out you were born a man.”

You looked at him, shocked. You could feel his air of pride, but you could also feel your heartbeat starting to slow.

He thinks you’re a transwoman…not a transman…

“No.”

“What?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“I’m not wrong, drop the gig, l/n.”

“I didn’t have menstrual products because I ran out and hadn’t got any left. We barely get breaks long enough to use the washroom. You’ve never seen me in anything except for my work clothes and a dress a few times, so how do you know how I usually dress? As for my chest…”

He looked at you expectantly, despite you shooting daggers.

“No one asked you to look.”

“I’m just being observant.”

You rolled your eyes. You had only recently started binding—and while it felt so much better, you assumed no one noticed. He started reaching for your chest, but you swatted his hand away.

“You only did that because you knew it would prove my point.” He growled.

“You’re wrong, House. I was born female.”

“Well it isn’t a chronic or terminal illness, not mental illness, your family doesn’t require your immediate attention, you have no friends or boyfriends trying to get you to move away with them, you don’t have any stalkers, and no one here has been harassing you.”

“You’re harassing me right now.”

“But you’re not leaving because of me.”

“Right.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What are you hiding?”

You looked up at the clock, it was nearing the end of your shift, anyway, and you were already done with everything.

“You’re not completely wrong.”

“What does that mean? Either I’m wrong or I’m right, and I’ll give you a hint—I am rarely wrong.”

You picked up the box. “Fine. You’re right, I was born a woman, and I hate it.” You said, quickly walking out.

Whatever comment he had for you, you didn’t want to hear it—people like him were exactly why you were leaving. Nevertheless, you heard his footsteps, and cane tapping after you. From the sound of it, you could tell he was struggling to keep up with you in a way that did not elicit pain.

Previously heading towards the elevator, you changed your route towards the stairs, and quickly made your way down. You practically flew down the last flight of stairs, causing you to nearly run into House who was standing in the doorway right at the bottom.

You sighed. “What do you want?”

“You didn’t honestly think it would be that easy, did you?” He asked, limping towards you. You backed up—back onto the stairs. House leaned up against one of the rails with a grunt, taking pressure off his leg.

You rolled your eyes and started walking back out, but he held out his cane to keep you from leaving.

“Why don’t you just let me go?”

“Because that doesn’t sound like a very good reason to leave.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Being transgender. Besides, I was right—so you aren’t allowed to leave.”

“You weren’t right, you thought I was a transwoman.”

He made a face. “I’m sorry, what’s the difference again.” You could tell he wasn’t being genuine, or probably wasn’t, but you answered anyway.

“Hmm. But I did say you were trans, right.”

“Right, but—”

“And you are, yes? Or did I misunderstand?”

“I am, but—”

“Then I was right. Now you have to go back upstairs, put your dinky decorations back on your desk, and be here early tomorrow morning with my coffee.” He said, directing his cane so that you would be forced to back up even more.

Thinking fast, you decided to come up with another compromise.

“No.”

“No? Did we not make a deal?”

“We did, but you were only partially right, therefore you were partially wrong, so we should split the deal.”

“Split the deal?” He scoffed like it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.

“Yes, split the deal. I'm leaving, but I’ll do whatever you say for a night.”

“Any night?”

“Saturday.”

He feigned surprise, “are you asking me on a date?”

“I—” you paused when you realized what he had done.

“I am flattered. I don’t usually date men, but if you insist, I will—it’s not like I’m doing anything better on Saturday night anyway. I’ll pick you up at 8.” He said, walking away.

#house md #x ftm reader #x reader #x male reader #greg house x reader #dr house x reader #transmasc #greg house #dr house

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dearestcynthiaw · 3 months

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Goodbye Stranger - House M.D x Reader

Chapter Two: Who Are You?

Source A: Photograph, with missing piece, and handwritten message: 'Spring 1928 - Trip to London' no other inscriptions.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Hello again!

Sorry for the long wait, this chapter might be a little dodgy writing wise, but I'm hoping it'll sound ok.

I just wanted to add that themes might get a bit heavier from here, but I'm still unsure. I'll let you know if any trigger warnings come up.

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Chapter One: World Weary

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TW: Mentions of blood, death, cigarettes and alcohol. (Sounds like a underground band name)

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In truth, House thought about this peculiar encounter for the rest of the day. He never once closed the Wikipedia tab on this mysterious, yet apparent English Rose. He'd found himself opening it frequently and scrolling to the bottom of endless pages to really see how far this woman would go with her 'fantasy'.

Due to this anomaly in his usual work day, he found it challenging to engage with his current case, often sitting in his office and pondering in the silence. His eyes glued to the door she had disappeared through hours earlier. Would she ever come back? She had been such a fascinating specimen, he just wanted to know exactly what was going on in her head. He thought about the endless illnesses that could have caused this odd phenomenon, ones that would cause hysteria or an overactive imagination.

Was she here to fool him into a prescription? Was she living out a long time wish to live the life of someone with great lineage and aristocratic fortune? Did she want to live in the romanticised perception of the past? It was all a colossal enigma that he wanted to unearth and tease out of the woman.

To him, the current case was a bore compared to what had transpired earlier that day. It sounded like a harsh flu, but not one that he’d ever seen. They’d isolated the patient and kept up with questions, which the man was reluctant to answer. With House acting distant, the diagnosis seemed far out of reach. House thought of giving up at one point, letting his team of three figure it out for themselves. That was until they found the man’s ankles were swollen.

At this point, due to House’s lack of interest, the whole procedure was moving at a snail’s pace. The case was getting increasingly worse and House’s team decided the patient would need to be scheduled for an X-Ray of the chest, checking the lungs for fluid and the heart for implications.

The conclusion was the possibility of heart failure, yet they were still unsure of how it got to this point.

The end of the day was nigh. Still after plenty of pestering, House rebuffed the idea of at least looking at the patient through the glass. The idea of this patient dying seemed to have no effect on him, maybe deep down it did, but he appeared oblivious or distracted.

It was late when he got back to his car. The rain was heavily pattering on the roof of the multistory car park. It was loud, but that never detached him from his buzzing thoughts.

Dr Wilson, his friend (you’d like to think) and colleague, caught him just before he left, knocking sternly on his driver's side window, which House reluctantly opened. Wilson’s eyebrows were knitted and his mouth was pulled into a straight line 'What's gotten into you? I’m made to believe this is a one-of-a-kind case, not even you can figure it out.’

House only huffed at this, rolling up the window. Again there was a torrent of knocks.

‘What? I’m late to a date with one of the hottest chicks in town.’

‘Don’t mess about, this is a life or death House. Why are you not interested?’ Wilson spoke, his voice sprinkled with concern.

In return, House revved his engine ‘No time to talk, probably won’t see you tomorrow, I doubt I'll be able to walk with all the fun I’ll be up to tonight. Bye.’ With that he flew out of his space, leaving Wilson in the dust.

Rain drops danced on his windows as he bolted down the bustling roads. The street lights and headlights of other cars painted his window screen with an array of vivid colours. The music on his radio hummed in the background along with the rattling of the wheels on the dodgy tarmac.

He was eventually stopped at a set of traffic lights, watching people trudge through the rain as he sat snugly in his warm car.

Amongst the hoard of busybodies was a young lady, one with a look of discomfort and panic. She was instantly recognisable, yet her togs were soggy and discoloured with the spatters of rain. Her hair was heavy with water and had lost its neat, waved styling.

He watched intensely as a singular man approached her, touching her shoulder, causing her to jump back in fright.

The lights flicked to orange and he was about ready to move on, when she was pushed up against the wall unbeknown to those around her.

He moved on through the green light. He thought nothing of this interaction, knowing someone else would interfere.

He was part way down the road when without thinking he flicked on his right indicator, stopping in a lay-by, hopping out in haste with his hand roughly gripping his cane.

Bracing against the frigid rain, he splashed through puddles approaching the pair.

He was close now, and could see how dangerous this situation was. The man was grabbing at her with his filthy hands, his face was close and his voice low.

House put his cane between the two causing an instant reaction from the unknown male.

‘Whatcha think you’re doing, cripple?’ The male hollered.

He attempted to push the stranger away, making sure to keep distance in case he decided to lash out, which his body language suggested.

House’s mind was sharp thinking ‘This woman has a disease that’s contagious through touch. She’s an escapee and has been on the run for the past 2 days. You’ve probably contracted it by being in close proximity.’

The man seemed to instantaneously spring backwards ‘How come you’re fine?’ his face scrunched up.

‘Inoculation, dummies don’t have access to it. Now move on, nothing to see here.’ and with that the frowzy man scurried away. The appearance of his walking aid would’ve probably been enough to strike fear in the stranger, but the spontaneous story-telling seemed to bring the alarming interaction to a close.

House moved away as well, pacing back to his car.

She hesitated before shouting after him, forgetting about nearby eavesdroppers ‘Why did you help me? I thought you said I was mad and should be locked away.’

‘Doesn’t matter, you coming or you just gonna stand there staring at my back?’ House turned back to look at her, water running down his face.

He finally got a closer look at her when they were back in the comfort of his car. She was soaked to the bone, dripping on the fabric seats. Black could be seen about her red, puffy eyes where her cake mascara had smudged. Her hair was tousled and unkept. She was quite a pitiful sight to behold.

There was an uncomfortable silence before the engine was started up. House was hesitating.

Again the music could only be heard faintly in the background, not even a single breath.

‘I’ve seen a lot. New things, that is.’ She attempted to start a conversation, hoping that after this frightful evening he would see some sense in what she had said previously that day.

He ignored her.

‘I’ve got a car at home.’ She muttered under her breath, she was speaking to herself more than him. She was partly facing away, looking out the window as the streets flew by.

He turned the radio up to drown out her rambling. He would much rather be glued to the thumping music and the overactive thoughts building in his mind. He detested the notion of making awkward conversation with a lady he did not wholly trust.

The music was blaring now, the bass rattling the plastic interior of the car.

As she listened intently, she heard a new plethora of instruments that was very unlike what she was used to. She didn’t know what to concentrate on, she couldn’t tell anything apart. Every instrument seemed to drown each other out.

Her eyes were wide from the boisterous sound but she happily sat tapping her fingers on her lap to the rhythm. She could only pick out one phrase from the lyrics;

“Who are you?’’.

Who was she? That really was the truth. The song just exaggerated that query.

House finally let a question sit in the noisy atmosphere ‘You like The Who?’.

‘Who?’ She turned to him.

‘Very funny.’ The conversation was quick, short and littered with sarcasm.

The song had a bit of a quieter section but jumped straight back into the chaos. It made her jump slightly with the suddenness of it all, consequently causing House to humph with a singular hissing laugh.

Again, there was a gap of silence and a sort of sizzling, filmy sound that rang out from the central system in the car. The bulky set of technology to her left disposed of a silver, holographic disk and she looked at it curiously.

Panicked, she asked ‘Did I break something?’.

In a quick movement, he flicked open a compartment in front of her knees ‘Pick one, and replace it.’

She tentatively did so, taking the plastic cases from the glove box and splaying them out on her lap, looking at the different images. She seemed to figure it out, it was much like the vinyls she was used to, but in a different format. She gently replaced the circular disk safely into its matching case. Opening another dark coloured case with a man and a blonde woman displayed on the front, she placed the disk where the other had originally come from. As it slid from her fingers into the machine, her eyebrows furrowed in awe.The new song flicked on after a couple seconds of whirring.

‘Top Gun? Really?’

‘I didn’t know what to pick, I’ve never seen any of these before. It's the only one I could see with the musicians on the front.’

‘They’re not the musicians, it's a film soundtrack, Marty. Maverick and Charlie? Have you not watched the movie?’ He used that odd nickname ‘Marty’ again amongst his rambling.

She sighed, looking down at her lap at the remaining disk holders. She brought one close to her face as the darkness obstructed the image. ‘You listen to King Oliver? Are you a fan of Jazz?’ she perceived his seated figure at the wheel. She was delighted that this music was still being heard. If she could relate to him with music then it might make the atmosphere more comfortable.

Irked by her continued persistence on making conversation, House stared back at her. ‘What? Are you going to tell me that you were there when they came out?’

He was still fighting conversation.

Feeling knocked back she spoke quietly again ‘I’m only curious, that’s all.’.

Her thoughts consumed her that when House had parked and was now exiting the car, she was too slow to realise. They were before an unfamiliar single-story building, he was bugging her to leave the passenger seat.

He ushered her towards the front door, both traipsing on damp gravel, water still continuing to cling to their raiments.

Hesitating, she stood by the entrance ‘Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there and freeze?’. She was already cold, she had barely had time to dry and was finding it hard to conceal her shivers.

It had been a rough looking public house, she had no longer been pleased when seeing its interior. Truthfully, she was glad to no longer be stuck on the streets but this brought no hope as to what House had in mind for her. She pined for her home, at this point it seemed ever so far out of reach. The panic was devouring her insides as she walked with him to the long stretch of bar.

She still had her bag of small belongings clasped to her side; a small pocket watch, a delicately painted case of cigarettes, a metal lighter, a compact mirror, a gold tube of lipstick and a small amount of notes and coins. It was a pure set of luck that it hadn’t been snatched out of her clutches whilst she helplessly wandered the streets.

House had already placed an order whilst she lingered a distance back from him. He’d downed a couple doubles and was waiting for his glass to be topped up.

The bartender seemed to look at her in inquiry, she felt pressured to place an order too.

‘Cognac, a little soda, please.’ Giving a small smile as she felt relieved to finally have a drink.

‘You think we do that here, sweetheart?’ The man seemed amused by her request.

She felt embarrassed, flushing a rosé shade on the cheeks ‘Just brandy then.’ She spoke as she placed a few shillings on the counter.

‘We don’t take whatever those are.’

House surely thought she was a fool at this point, he pressed his glass to his lip and gave a sharp snicker. Every aspect of her life had to be littered with old-timey things. He thought; she was quite committed to leading this lifestyle and neglecting the reality of today’s society. She proceeded to sit beside him after the interaction with the bartender, who went to tend to another customer. Demoralised, she let out a shaky sigh, elbows on the bar and right hand over her eyes. She felt like crying, but was certain that the doctor would degrade her for it.

‘So what’s your real name then?’ House questioned after a lengthy couple of minutes, again grabbing the attention of the bartender to fill up his glass.

In a huff she pulled out a little red cloth-bound book from her purse and pushed it in front of him. ‘That’s my driving licence, have a look at it yourself.’ He opened it in a blasé manner, finding the same name she’d given when they met, written in neat looped writing. Alongside her name were the start and expiry dates for her driving permit that conveniently matched up with her story.

‘That’s all I've got in terms of identification. That’s it, that is my name. If you can’t believe me after this then I don’t know what will convince you.’

He continued to study it ‘This is a good forgery, looks authentic.’.

She didn’t know why she hung around, but she felt that he might be her only chance when it came to getting home. She opened her cigarette case, placing one at her lip, flicking open her lighter and taking a deep exhale.

‘Better put that out before you get caught.’ He said in a snarky voice with a face to match when she chose to ignore him.

With that final comment she left her seat marching outside, gasper still between her fingers. House trailed behind her to the overhead roof outside where she continued to take drags. He didn’t want to lose sight of her, not again, he was far from finishing his investigation.

Snapping she snarled ‘What is it? What is it that you want? You’re following me yet you refuse to help me. You don’t even believe me, not even my name! I’m beyond it all, I just- I just - want to get back home, yet you ridicule and tease me to no end! What is it ‘Dr’ House? What do you want me to say? That I’m faking all of this, then fine have it your way, I am. Are you finally satisfied?!.

There was a second of silent acrimony before she finally stated; ‘I’m going back to the hospital’. She stubbed the cigarette butt beneath her heel, beginning to move.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights blinked at them. They both stood still like a pair of stunned deer in the beam. ‘House!’ came a shout.

House squinted and called back ‘Can’t you see I’m with a babe?’.

She was too stunned to react to his crude joke.

‘She looks wet, House.’ The voice came closer, it sounded sympathetic.

‘I’m sure she is, from the sight of me.’

Gritting her teeth she sneered ‘For goodness sake!’ Crossing her arms for warmth and setting foot back into the intense rain, she began to trudge through the drenched car park. She stood by what she said, she was going to find her way back.

She walked as far as the side of the car who’s headlights had previously blinded them.

‘She looks distressed, Are you going to stop her? You can’t let her go back in the rain, the hospital is miles from here.’ The man came into view, appearing to her right. She flinched backwards as he tried to rest an assuring hand on her arm. His face was scrunched and his eyes were squinting from battling the downpour.

‘Just hold on a second, I’ll take you there- House- Jesus Christ, we need to get out of this rain-’ This new man managed to convince her to step back under cover, she still kept her distance from the both of them, arms defensively crossed over her chest.

‘I was trying to find you, and I found you at a bar? You need to take this seriously, your patient went into cardiac arrest, we were trying to get a hold of you but you weren’t answering your phone.’

Looking unbothered, House shot back ‘Is he stable?’

‘Yes but-’

‘Well it's fine then, let me get on with my night.’

You could hear a very heavy sigh from the other man as he pinched the bridge of his nose, ready to speak again.

She finally let her quiet fury go ‘You let this man deal with patients? He couldn’t be the slightest bit interested in a man that is actively dying. He can’t honestly be a doctor, he's such an ass!’

‘Hey! That's not very nice to say to your prince charming!’ his eyes flew wide, pulling a mock frown, his words were a little slurred.

‘Well, I’m not wrong, you’re being a complete and utter cad!’

House gasped, looking defensively at the other man shrugging his shoulders ‘I don’t know what she's on about Wilson.’.

That was his name, Wilson. Was that a first or last name? She was yet to know.

‘Can we stop fighting like children? You, House, are going home and you’re going to take the case-file with you. Get in the car.’ Wilson paused to look at the lady, taking in her peculiar outfit. He didn’t know whether it would be dubious to ask her the same, especially with how distraught her manner appeared.

‘Whaaat? Are you calling off my playdate?!’ House whined. ‘I can drive myself, you know.’ He added in a flat tone.

‘The man behind the bar has his keys, I saw him take them earlier.’ She muttered in earshot of the man named ‘Wilson’.

There was a stern ‘In!’ from Wilson before House gave in; ‘Fine fine, Jesus, you really know how to be a stick in my ass!’

She remained hesitant as this gentleman, Wilson, opened the back door for her, ushering her in. She really had no other choice at this point, afterall, she had nowhere else to go.

Wilson turned back to look at her when he had finally seated himself in front of the wheel. ‘What do you need to go back to the hospital for? The clinic closed two hours ago...’.

‘Don’t worry about it, any hotel will do, I’ll go in the morning.’ She spoke softly in defeat.

House let slip ‘Don’t know how you’ll do that with no money.’.

A gasp could be heard ‘House! I-I can’t believe you! Were you planning to spend an evening with her and then just dump her?!’ Wilson shouted in a whisper, which was partly inaudible to the lady in the back. ‘You can’t do that! You’ll have to let her atleast crash on your couch until tomorrow.’

‘Why can’t you?’ He mumbled back.

‘Because I’m living out of a hotel at the moment, you know it's not possible.’ His voice went lower ‘You got yourself into this, not me!’

House heaved out a sigh, he was too inebriated to protest.

The drive was prolonged by the squabbling going on up front. She let her ears tune out, concentrating on different landmarks passing by her window. She recognized a few from when she had been roaming earlier that day; The laundromat where a woman stopped her for a chat, commenting on how her voice sounded funny and there was the barbers where she had been catcalled whilst trying to ask about the area.These were only a handful of places that were recognizable. She set about situating them on a map in her mind. She had to know her way around before it was too late, knowing that it would become a survival tool when House inevitably left her on her own.

Her eyes were terribly heavy as she peered out of the rain soaked window, her elbow resting on the seal, her chin propped on her hand. She could see her likeness reflected in the pane, it looked pale and exhausted. Although she felt miserable, It was also surprising how comforting this stranger's car was. She should’ve felt on edge not knowing where she was going, but the warmth and humming chatter seemed to lull her into a peaceful state of mind and eventually a light slumber.

The door was pulled abruptly open, causing her to tumble sideways. ‘You getting out or what?’. She sleepily trailed behind House up a couple of steps towards a green front door. His keys turnt in the lock, this must’ve been where he lived.

She was greeted by an array of objects, all messily placed around the entirety of the apartment. There were dark bookshelves filled with all sorts of oddities, some of which were recognisable like lozenge bottles, anatomical figurines and the odd syringe that she would see used in her hospitals at home. They were being used like decorational items, which she found quite curious.

Amongst it all was a grand piano, one possibly made from a rich wood, it was the only surface completely clear.

House limped through the apartment leaving her standing stunned in the entryway, Wilson was behind her, moving to her left to follow the doctor. She’d only seen him in low light, now realising how much more smartly clad he was in comparison to House. He looked and acted more like a man bearing the title of ‘doctor’. He seemed genuinely kind, but after House’s reaction, she didn’t want anyone else caught up in the mess she had gotten herself into. They were still having their previous conversation, she could hear their muffled voices from the other room.

Her heels clicked faintly on the hardwood floor, following the two into what looked like a kitchen. House was propped against a cabinet with a vile of tablets clutched in his hand. He tipped a couple into his palm, tipping his head back to swallow them. He glanced to his side, his steel blue eyes fixing on her figure awkwardly standing just outside the kitchen.

‘I’m going to get her a towel or something, at least offer her a glass of water instead of staring at her.’ Wilson was prodding House to accommodate his guest. Wilson promptly made his way out of the kitchen space, making sure to keep his distance and disappearing down a corridor, leaving them both alone.

House appeared disapproving as he continued to study her, lips curling inwards in thought.

She looked down at her shoes and spoke at the floor to avoid eye contact ‘I apologise, I didn't get the chance to thank you…’. She spoke softly and with gentle words only to hear a sniff and a heavy swallow in reply.

‘I wasn't being very kind considering you did help me.’ She added.

Pushing past her, in a way that didn’t cause physical contact he announced ‘I'm going to bed, Wilson will show you where everything is. You’re sleeping on the couch-’

He turned on his heel slightly, looking over his shoulder, which caught her attention; ‘Unless you want to join me for some sweet, passionate sex.’ He teased. He couldn't help himself, she thought, he had to pull some rudimentary rubbish to cover his arse whenever she tried to be polite.

Showing a slight grimace, she watched his back as he staggered away. She shifted her weight behind her on the kitchen’s doorway, head positioned upwards regarding the textured plaster on the ceiling.

There were a couple subdued footsteps before she noticed Doctor Wilson beside her, holding out a rather plush looking towel.

With a soft ‘thank you’ and a nod, she wrapped it about her person.

‘I’ve run you a bath as well. House stopped me in the hallway and asked if I could. The bathroom is just down that hallway.’ Pointing his thumb over his shoulder he noted the direction she should take. ‘If that’s everything, I best be getting back. It's getting late.’

Just before he left she spoke up, clearing her throat quietly, ‘Oh uh, thank you for everything-’ was all she could stutter.

With a prompt nod and a thoughtful smile he slipped through the front door, shutting it firmly behind him.

It was deathly silent as she slipped through the passageway to the bathroom. She was still studying her surroundings, taking in all of the little nic-nacs, when she stopped by a shelf just outside the bathroom. Huddled amongst the books was a sweet, well-loved teddy. He was only a tiny thing, just bigger than hand. His fur was thoroughly worn, showing darker spots where the threads were visible. His nose was hand stitched and his eyes glimmered in the low light. She turned him over gently in her hands, finding his maker’s mark. He was a Steiff bear, absolutely identical to her own. Hugging him closely to her chest, she felt a wave of comfort fall over her. A kind of comfort that hurts so terribly.

She let a silent tear slide down her cheek, thinking desperately of home. Her dear companion was where she left it, settled amongst her bedsheets battling the biting cold of her bedroom. He would never know where she had gone.

The feeling further gnawed at her heart, her chest burnt with grief. She thought of family, how she’d left them behind, without uttering a goodbye. She thought of her friends and her dogs and finally her fiancé. She let her head tilt slightly back, her flushed lips parted, trying to stop the tears from dripping onto the floor, but they only bled down her neck, stinging as they made their path. Looking back at the bear, she pulled him back from her person, giving him a light kiss on his woolly cheek. Tenderly, she seated him back on the shelf and continued on her path.

She was finally amongst the cold tile of the bathroom. Quietly locking the door behind her, she began to undress, hooking her garments over the showerail above the tub. They might’ve had a chance of drying there.

She sat on the stool in the corner to unclip her stockings. There, she caught sight of a scrape on her knee where she had taken a fall earlier that day. The adrenaline had been overpowering the pain, only now realising how the crimson blood had seeped into the rayon. Peeling the fabric off the wound she set about washing away some of the blood in the sink, hoping that she could salvage the tattered hosiery. She left them to dry like the rest of her clothing and undergarments.

She felt it was only right to leave on her few pieces of jewellery, knowing her tired state, she would likely misplace them otherwise.

Placing a foot into the sudsy water, the pleasant water enveloped her numb limbs. She led down fully, letting the warmth rush over her, finally ridding herself of the dreadful frigidity that had lingered upon her skin. Allowing her eyes to close, she let out a contented sigh. This small pause, where her body was finally in a relaxed state, brought on small waves of dread. Much like the bath water sloshing about in the porcelain, the top of her stomach was sweeping like waves, twisting and pulling in agony.

She hunched over, pulling her knees up to her chest as a form of comfort. Her breath grew heavy, the sense of foreboding setting in. Burying her face into the hard bones of her knees, she struggled against her chest wracking with affliction. The pure anguish of the situation hit her, far worse than it had in the hallway. She desperately clung onto her breath not wanting to make a sound, tears smothering the entirety of her face. Her arms were firmly wrapped about her head, her nails digging into the tops of her arms, clinging onto any part of reality that wasn’t being deadened by her continuous fear.

She suffered a disjointed sob, drawing a further deep breath through her teeth. Her body shook with the deeply embedded desolation.

She hadn’t noticed the figure stood to her right as she continued to sink further into her melancholy, her form violently trembling with mournful weeps.

There was a masculine, pitiful exhale that filled the claustrophobic space.

From the sound, she let one bloodshot eye take a peak above her arms, perceiving a blurry staunch figure who was instantly recognisable.

Embarrassment entangled her as she realised how she might’ve appeared. Her voice sounded broken as she whispered a quick apology, drawing her limbs closer to her torso.

He continued with what he was doing, flipping open the mirrored cabinet above the sink.

All she could do was turn her head in the opposite direction to hide her obvious flushed face and tear stained cheeks. She heard his rusting around but was too humiliated to look.

Hearing his footsteps echoing away and the door closing once again, she turned to take a peek. There was a thin blue and white dressing gown led over the edge of the bath, it hadn’t been there before. She took that as a sign to leave the tepid soak, finishing up in the bath, placing on her chemise and French knickers that were mostly dry. It would have to suffice for the night. She assumed this dressing gown was left for her, delicately placing it upon her person and tying it tight.

She padded down the hallway, taking quick,quiet steps to the living room. Anticipating his presence in the sitting room, she felt she would have to turn back and lock herself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. She couldn’t face him again, she felt completely mortified after he’d seen her in that state.

Perching on the chesterfield, making herself somewhat comfortable, she peered down at the coffee table in front of her, her eyes landed on the patient case file that the other doctor had left. Curiosity overtook her, she took a cautionate glance at the space before flipping open the blue folder to take a peak. She had wondered what the two were discussing earlier.

Her breath caught after taking in the symptoms. It was the usual symptoms of something like influenza, high temperature, fever, sore throat, difficulty breathing and swollen glands in the neck. It was sounding a lot like what her uncle had caught, but how could they not see it was a kind of flu? Was there something else they were missing? There were updated notes too, scrawled in the typical hard-read writing of a doctor.

It was affecting his heart.

‘What have I told you about patient confidentiality?’

‘It's just some.. Reading..’ Was all she could stutter, she was quite lost for words after jumping out of her skin at his abrupt emergence.

His eyebrows seemed to quirk in amusement ‘Can you not see the amount of books on the shelves around you?’

‘Yes I know, but, Dr Wilson was urging you to read this and you still wouldn’t. I thought I might have a look to see what you were avoiding. Well, I can see why...’

‘It's not the flu.’ House stated bluntly.

She sighed at his forthrightness, she was quite familiar with it now. ‘I was just…Starting to see the similarity it had to a relative’s death..’ She couldn't stand looking him in the eyes after her confession, she felt he might just laugh in her face.

His questions were quick and direct yet her willingness to answer was becoming restrained ‘What did they die from?’.

‘Distemper- no, uh? I can’t remember - I don’t like to think about it.’ Her eyes were visibly glazed, her eyes squinting when racking her brain for the given name of the illness.

He pushed further ‘You can’t remember any symptoms?’

Swallowing gravely, she continued ‘Well, they found a grey coating in their throat after they died. The doctor was too late to see it before. Their um.. Heart was weak from birth, so we barely saw symptoms before they passed. But it-it was like your patient…The um, cough and fever..’

His eyes seemed to focus on a point in front of him, his pupils constricting. His mind was whirring, connecting dots.

‘A Pseudomembrane. So it was bacteria?’

She looked clueless, wanting to shake her head in apprehensive confusion. He went on to pull a small rectangular silver case from his pocket, snapping it open and tapping a couple buttons on it, eventually holding it to his ear.

‘Corynebacterium diphtheriae. Have you checked inside the patient's nose? I think you'll find we're dealing with bacterial disease instead of a virus.’

There was a pause before he interrupted the murmur coming from the other end ‘-then dose him up on antibiotics and monitor his heart damage. Yes, I know you’ve found it’s myocarditis, so put him on anti-inflammatories and any other pain killers he’ll whine for. He’ll survive.’ Flipping the silver item, supposedly a phone, closed after rambling to the person on the other end, he examined the lady before him. Other than the slight scrunch about his eyes, his visage appeared completely blank.

Gasping as if he were to speak, he held his tongue to look upon her, further studying her face. He sat on the other end of the settee, lowering himself down slowly, holding his leg as he did so. Making himself comfortable, he placed his cane upon the table in front of them.

‘Who was this relative then?’ His words seemed to strike a nerve. She seemed to render a sorrowful glint in her eyes. ‘Who was it?’ He pressed.

‘My brother, the oldest.’

‘You have a brother?’ It wasn’t like he already knew, after reading up on her all day, he just wanted to hear it from her. He cruelly wanted to see if she had rehearsed the entirety of the historical documents he had found on the web, pitilessly trying to trip her up.

She only nodded, she was hesitant to give away any more information on her personal life, but she still stated that she once had four male siblings.

‘I’m sorry.’ Stating it unremorsefully, he still exhibited an unreadable blank expression.

He didn’t remain seated for long, making his way back to the kitchen in his usual slow walk. He returned, after a bit of rusting in the other room, carrying glasses and a bottle of unidentifiable amber alcohol. Pouring about an inches worth into both glasses, he passed one over to the accompanying female who took a reserved sip, brushing her tongue along her lip to identify the taste.

Reaching into her chestnut coloured handbag, she pulled out her ornate cigarette case, opening it to offer one to House who was sprawled out on the sofa.

‘I don’t smoke.’

Pulling an inquisitive grin she spoke ‘If you don’t, then why have an ashtray?’.

‘Decoration?’ His voice dripped with sarcasm.

She chuckled lightly at his comment. He did indeed take a straight, placing it at his lip as she sparked the metal lighter beneath it.

Doing the same for herself, the room became slightly hazy with the wispy smoke.

He appeared content with the taste ‘What are these then?’

‘Fribourg & Treyer, I have them when I'm in London.’ She gave a frolicsome smile ‘I’m not actually allowed to smoke, my father prohibits it.’

He made a humming sound, prompting her to continue. His interest was getting the better of him.

‘He’s a little old-fashioned, doesn’t believe women should smoke, he believes I’m starting to resemble the scandalous city girls. Not very fair considering my brother’s are happily welcomed to, and in his company. I mean one smokes a pipe, one does snuff for Heaven’s sake!’ Lamenting on the disparity of it all, she still displayed an impish grin.

His lips seemed to curl into a sort of smile as she spoke candidly.

‘What happened to your knee?’ He kept firing questions, one after the other.

She glanced down, finding the dressing gown was revealing the skin just above her knees. Readjusting the fabric she formed a response; ‘It's just a scrape, there’s nothing special about it. Anyway, are you ever going to stop interrogating me? I mean, you haven’t given me the chance to ask my own questions yet.’

‘Looks like you’ve been running, it’s elongated.’

She paused to flick her head away, looking back at him quickly again in discomfort, sharply stubbing out her cigarette.

‘Yes.. But that doesn’t matter.’

Regardless, he persisted ‘Who were you running from?’

‘I was just scared, alright?’ She exclaimed, nervously holding an odd smile.

It was deathly silent between them. The cars on the street outside echoed noisily throughout the front room.

‘Go on then, what were you going to ask me? No doubt it's going to be about my leg.’

She shook her head ‘That’s not for me to ask. I wanted to know what made you want to become a doctor?’.

‘I was greatly and passionately inspired by Patch Adams.’ He sounded dreamy, but she unperceived the underlying sarcasm.

‘I’ve never heard of them before? Did you know them?’

Bursting with an obnoxious laugh, he looked upon her as she rolled her eyes. There was no point trying to get any information out of him, House always found ways to deflect.

Leaning forward he forced himself to stand, hastily swallowing the rest of his nightcap, he began to stagger towards his bedroom. He gave one last comment before departing for good;

‘I know what you did.’ It was ominous. His back was still facing her.

‘I didn’t think you would have it in you to steal.’

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I hope you are enjoying it so far! This is going to end up being chock-full of metaphors XD

'Who Are You' - The Who 1978

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Tag list:

@indestructeible @suziek415

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~ I really have enjoyed my stay, but I must be moving on ~

#house #house md #housemd #drhouse #dr house #greg house #greg house x reader #gregoryhousexreader #housexreader #house md x reader #house x reader #1920s #1920s fanfic #historical fanfiction #dr house x reader #x reader #reader insert

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feline-bookish · 13 days

Text

Something new…

I want to write reader inserts. While I’ll keep up with my OC writing I want to keep the door open to add more than just that and leave you guys empty of my content when I have no ideas for that OC.

Here’s the thing, my OC writing would take more planning than reader inserts because it fits a timeline for that OC. With a reader insert I can just use a prompt and a character.

Speaking of which, my inbox is open! Have a request for the following characters? Send it in!

Have Written:

Darkiplier

Yancy

Carlisle Cullen

Dr. Iplier

Dr. James Wilson

Lucifer Morningstar (Fox)

Dr. House

Prince Sidon

Have Not Written (but want to try)

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Dr. Strange

Iron Man

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charliedawn04 · 1 year

Text

Secret Santa :

A Doctor House x Reader story part 1

First time trying to write on Dr House. Please. Be kind. 💜

You breathed in deeply and your eyes skimmed over all the details of the waiting room. It was simple, but pristine. You could smell the faint scent of antibiotics and various hygienic products in the air and it comforted you slightly. It helped ease your nervousness at the interview you were about to face. You had never actually seen him, but people seemed to be rather fond of Dr Perlman—but you could never be too certain.

Your eyes then slid towards the only other person in the waiting room, possibly someone with the same aspirations as yours—or a patient. You could have attempted small talk, if it wasn't for the way his eyes seemed to drill holes in your forehead. You attempted a polite smile—one you hoped he would understand as friendly rather than awkward. But the way he narrowed his eyes at you made you immediately lower your eyes towards your lap and you didn't notice when your leg started bouncing up and down nervously—which didn't go unnoticed by the man.

"Do you want a mint ?"

You blinked once in surprise before raising your head—unsure as to whether you had heard him right or not. "What ?"

"A mint...", he repeated shortly before eyeing your leg significantly. "It eases the nerves."

You looked down at your restless leg and immediately forced it still before smiling up at the stranger. "No. Don't worry. I've got lollipops in my bag..."

"Ooh...Even better.", he scooted a little closer to you before cranning his neck in a vain effort to get a peek at the inside of your bag. "Have you got strawberry-flavor, or citrus ?"

Your smile turned genuine at his almost child-like curiosity and you checked inside your bag before replying. "Unfortunately, I've only got watermelon."

"WHAT ?!", he exclaimed loudly and made you startle a little in shock—his eyes and mouth widened as he crossed his hands over his heart in mock offense. "Watermelon ?! The cursed flavor ?! How dare you ?! I am outraged !"

But, he then proceeded to snatch the so-called offensive sweet from your very hand as soon as you were about to put it back in your bag.

"...Aren't you afraid to be cursed ?", you asked with a raised eyebrow and a small teasing smile.

He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth with a small playful smirk before answering. "Nah. I'll take my chances."

You couldn't help but snort as he made various funny faces as he kept sucking on the lollipop. At the end, you succeeded in having a rather lively conversation with him—to the point you even forgot the prime reason for your visit.

"Very well. Do you have any more questions for me ?", you asked with a small smile and he pretended to think about it before pulling the lollipop out of his mouth to answer. “Yup...Are you single ?"

Your eyes widened at the question and you bit your lower lip in order not to laugh at his utter nerve, shocked by his straightforwardness. “Are you serious ?”

He seemed to reconsider as he immediately switched subjects. "Sorry. Too forward ? Okay. Let's try this. Where are you from ?”

Your laughter died down and you tilted your head at him. “A galaxy far far away...What about you ?”

He mimicked you, tilting his head in the same direction with a small playful smile. “Star Wars reference ? Alright. I come from the planet Tatooine and came here to find the lost treasure of princess Leia in the office of the great sith Perlman. But, keep it to yourself. Wouldn't want my cover to be blown.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement before leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially.

"Your secret is safe with me."

You didn't expect him to lean forward as well. He tilted his head and the boyish grin he gave you took you off-guard as you realized how close you really were to each other.

"Wow, sexy and can keep a secret. The whole package deal You are.", he said that last sentence in a very exaggerated imitation of Yoda's voice and you couldn't help but laugh again. But, your laugh quickly died down as you started examining him more closely. He had cropped, greying hair and steely blue eyes. He was wearing worn out jeans, a shirt which seemed to have not been cleaned recently and a pair of old trainers. His whole appearance contrasted with the perfectly polished, scuffed, and dark cane resting beside him. He seemed to have noticed the way you'd been staring at him, as when you look back up, he met your gaze and smiled.

"Let me guess...Love at first sight ?"

You bit your lower lip in order not to laugh again and smiled before replying sarcastically.

“Oh, yes. I immediately fell under the charm."

He smirked before sending you a cheeky wink.

"Happens to the best. Don't fall too fast though, I may not be able to catch up with you." He tapped the side of his knee with his cane and your smile dropped as you realized. Ah. He was...a cripple. You should have known with the cane, but the information seemed to have simply been lost on you. A heavy silence suddenly seemed to settle around you—an unfortunate contrast with your earlier playful banter.

He seemed to realize the pity in your gaze as his own smile vanished and he looked away. "Forget it."

Your eyes widened at his dejected expression and you immediately shook your head, as he seemed to have been offended by your reaction. "No ! That's not what I...You're very handsome and you—being crippled—doesn't change that...I mean...I'm not..."

You stumbled over your own words and your cheeks heated up as you desperately tried to apologize.

"I said forget it.", he snapped at you and in an instant, he was out the door. You opened your mouth wide in shock and were about to run after him when the door of Perlman's office opened—and then he came out.

"Mrs. L/N ?", he called you and it made you stop dead in your tracks. His interruption seemed to have made you come back to reality. You couldn't go. What were you even doing—running after a stranger you barely knew because you may have hurt his feelings ? You felt your heart tighten in your chest though as you entered Perlman's office.

Turns out—you didn't get the job.

Fortunately enough, you managed to get an interview with a certain Dr Cuddy from Princeton-Plainsboro hospital a few weeks later and this time and she seemed to be rather impressed by you and your credentials. That—or she was desperate.

She offered you the job on the spot and you were all-too-eager to accept—unaware of the problems it would cause in the future.

For a few days later, you would come to realize that the man who you had vexed was the infamous Dr House...The most skilled doctor in the whole hospital—if not the country.

You gulped as you first spotted him— discussing with Dr Cuddy—and you knew you ought to introduce yourself to him—but you couldn't. Instead, you waited until House was out of sight before talking with Dr Cuddy—who would soon become your closest ally in Princeton-Plainsboro hospital. You also lied to her and told her that Dr House already knew of your existence in the hospital, postponing the day when you would have to face him again.

If someone had asked you back then why you had lied to her about him ? You would have told them that you had no idea—blame it on nervousness and the fact that you didn't want to be overwhelmed on your first few weeks on the job. But, truth was ? You were terrified of him. You were also horrified of what you'd done and couldn't—for the life of you—face him. He would certainly put you in an uncomfortable position by either blackmailing you—or draw attention to you by saying you were some kind of bodyshaming monster. And, you definitely didn't want that. You wanted to stay in the shadows and do your work without being worried about what others thought of you. So, you did. You stayed hidden from Dr House while doing your best to fill your role as the only pediatrician of the hospital.

You had successfully stayed hidden from him for many months, and he had no reason to come looking for you...until he finally had one.

A few weeks before Christmas :

"TEAM ! GATHER UP !", Dr House clapped his hands together to get the attention of all his interns who looked at each other—confused.

"Hum...What's up ?", Chase asked and Dr House seemed deeply in thought about something for a few second. Finally, when he was certain he had the full attention of the three students, he said with a rather displeased expression.

"Okay. I heard that Cuddy had the awful idea to get everyone a 'secret santa' this year. And I wanted to warn you. You can keep your money. Because I won't be accepting any gift from the lot of you, are we clear ?" The three med-students looked in surprise at each other a second time before Cameron huffed a laugh and shook her head before speaking up.

"As much as I would have loooved to be the lucky girl, none of us will be your Christmas santa this year, since none of us got your name." Dr House seemed stunned for a second before voicing his astonishment aloud.

"Wait...If none of you got me...", he started drawing conclusions, "...that means either Cuddy forgot about me—which would be a relief—or she is as evil as she seems and gave it to a complete stranger...?" Foreman and Chase couldn't help but look at each other with knowing smirks.

"Poor guy—or girl...They don't know what'll hit them.", Foreman mocked and House sighed before waving his comment dismissively. "Return to work. And call me if anything interesting shows up."

He received a couple of affirmative hums in response before walking away. His students were used to his repetitive absence by now and didn't need House to supervise their work. Besides, he had to meet with Cuddy—urgently. Fortunately for him—and less fortunately for her—he found her talking to a patient in the corridor and grabbed her to lead her away promptly.

"House ! You can't just...", she was about to protest—but was rudely interrupted.

"Who did you give my name to ?", he asked—not wasting any time on niceties and Cuddy refrained an eye roll. It seemed she tended to do that a lot around House. "That is for me to know and you to discover on Christmas—like everyone else. Now, good day to you, House."

She attempted to cut the conversation short and walk away, but House didn't let her as he insisted.

"Come on. At least, give me a clue. Is it a man ? A woman ?..", he watched her features intently and her eyes slightly widened at the last option. Dr House smirked—somehow victoriously—as he had reduced the number of candidates by 50% approximately.

"Ah. A woman then...Tell me, is she pretty ?", he asked while wiggling his eyebrow suggestively and Dr Cuddy suddenly wrenched her arm away from Dr House's grasp in response. He almost fell forward—not expecting the sudden movement. Dr Cuddy then started walking away, but Dr House didn't let her go so easily as he started following her to ask her a lot of questions that she ignored.

"What's her name ? Age ? Occupation ?..Come on, Cuddy ! Give me something !", he pleaded and Dr Cuddy closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. She had promised to keep your identity a secret, but she really didn't want to have the other doctor following her around like a lost puppy all day.

'Sorry, Y/N', she sent you a silent apology before finally answering House. "Fine. You win. She's our pediatrician."

Both of Dr House's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the information, but he then frowned before looking up—pondering.

"...We have a pediatrician ?", he finally asked and Dr Cuddy turned around swiftly to address him a look of pure disbelief. "Are you kidding me right now ?! Of course we have one !"

But, he wasn't. He was genuinely puzzled. He had never seen you. He had always supposed Cuddy to have deliberately chosen not to introduce you both, as it was rare for him to be working with kids outside of brief consultations. However, it seemed she was as puzzled as him as to his unawareness.

"Impossible. I would have noticed...", he claimed and Dr Cuddy—who could see that Dr House was taken aback by this new piece of information—smiled smugly at the fact that she had finally managed to take him by surprise.

"Maybe you're not as observant as you pretend to be ? She told me she had even introduced herself to you. But, it wasn't of any informational value to you until now. So, you probably just zoned her out. But, she's been here since September—at least." He blinked twice, trying to remember any time he could have ever met you. But, he eventually gave up on trying to guess how you looked like from memory alone. Dr Cuddy seemed to take pity on him for a second as she added. "Ask Wilson. They usually have breakfast together."

She then walked away and House's eyes widened in shock at the new piece of information. WILSON KNEW ?! The first thing he did was open the door of Dr Wilson's office and ask him on the get to-go.

"Did you know that we've got a pediatrician now ?" Dr Wilson tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at House—used to is best friend's sudden and unwelcome interruptions by now.

"Yes. Didn't you...?", he asked with a raised eyebrow. House sighed before closing the door behind him and sitting in the vacant spot in front of Dr Wilson.

"I feel like the whole hospital is playing a prank on me. I have some secret santa who seems to be some ghost pediatrician who's been working here for months—but that I've never even heard of until now..." Dr House rubbed his temples tiredly before gobbling two pills of vicodin down his throat.

Dr Wilson sighed before leaning forward and—even though it brought him great satisfaction to find House struggling— decided to help him.

"Who do you think always refills the bowl of candy in the lobby, and brings breakfast to the staff every morning ?" House looked down at the lollipop currently in his pocket and huffed a small amused laugh. So, that was you ? He did wonder where those kept coming from...Wilson smiled before opening his mouth to add something, but House stood up to leave before he could...

The hunt was on.

He pulled out the lollipop and smiled.

Thanks to Wilson, he finally had a plan to sniff you out...

"Thanks for the idea, old pal' !", he told Wilson on his way out and the brunette sighed loudly. Why did he have this weird feeling he would come to regret helping him ?

The very next day :

You entered the lobby and frowned as you noticed that the candy bowl had been emptied. Had there really been so many people yesterday ? You looked around—making sure no one was around—before retrieving a bag of candy from your bag and refilling the container. Once it was done, you took a step back to leave discreetly—only for your back to be met with a rather sturdy form behind you.

You turned around swiftly, only to be met with the very man you had tried so hard to escape—Dr House. The man had a smug look on his face as he looked you up and down.

"Gotya.", he stated with an insufferable little self-sufficient smirk before taking another lick of one of the lollipops he had stolen that very morning. He then eyed the container filled with candy once more and gave you a knowing smirk. "So...You're the glorified vending machine ?"

You sighed in defeat before turning around to face the treacherous bowl of candy that had surely given you away. Dr House had—no doubt—waited all morning to see you about the secret santa story. You had heard he had been complaining about it from Chase and had still hoped naively he wouldn't come looking. To be honest, you didn't know how you had gotten his name out of any name you could have picked out during the secret santa distribution...? Had you done something wrong to the universe in your past life ?

"No. I am the janitor. Now, step aside. I've got rooms to clean.", you shot back before walking past him. "And just for the record, a vending machine rarely does it for free."

He was momentarily taken aback by your answer and huffed a small laugh of disbelief before following you, his cane indicating his pace as he tried to walk beside you..Dr House hadn't expected your quick-witted answer, but was more than happy to retort. "I'll let you know that all the vending machines can procure you free stuff, just gotta kick it the right way."

You ignored him until you were well down the children's aisle and proceeded to check all the rooms for anything suspicious. You knew Dr House didn't like entering in the patients' rooms, which allowed you some time away from his snark and pompous self. Once you were done however, Dr House was still waiting for you—leant casually against one of the walls and supported by his cane.

"So...You really are the pediatrician ?"

You huffed a laugh before muttering under your breath. "Great deduction, Sherlock."

Dr House was found speechless at your sheer cheek, but he found himself actually enjoying your little banter and leant forward—just enough so you may realize just how taller he was than you.

"Cute. Smart. Infuriating, and with just the right amount of sass not to be boring ? Dr Cuddy does know how to choose her underlings.", he appreciated and wondered if Cuddy had purposefully hid you from him. You didn't shy away from his gaze as the doctor took full advantage of his height to peer down condescendingly at you.

"Now that you've insulted me and rather crudely flirted with me, would you tell me what you want ?", you decided to change the subject and Dr House blinked twice before remembering why he had come to find you in the first place.

"Yes. Right. Dr Cuddy told me you had received my name in this highly inappropriate joke of a 'Christmas santa' on the whole service. I would very much appreciate if you'd refrain from interacting with me by any means and forms on that particular day.", he requested and you tilted your head slightly before asking—a serious edge to your following inquiry.

"So...You find the idea dumb, do you ?" Dr House wasn't expecting the sudden defensive attitude and felt he had fallen into some kind of trap...But, he wouldn't backtrack now.

"Well, yes. I find it rather dumb.", he admitted. "Getting a gift from a complete stranger on Christmas day just because they have to is just plain dumb."

He failed to notice the slight twitch of your jaw at his confirmation. That was the exact reason why you had decided to stay away from Dr House. He was making you unable to breathe by his words alone...He was being cruel just because he could and it infuriated you to no point.

"I see...", you replied with a forced smile. "Then, you are relieved from this obviously tedious task. You will receive a gift. But, as far as I'm concerned ? You can keep your money and pride."

You then didn't wait for an answer before walking away and Dr House followed you with his eyes—confused. It would only be days later that he would discover that the idea of the secret santa was actually yours...

The next morning, he was waiting for you next to the children's aisle again—knowing you eventually had to come to work. You sighed and ignored him before doing your usual round under the careful scrutiny of Dr House.

"You check the children's rooms every morning ? If so, you must be crazy.", he eyed you up and down with his eyes making a mental scan of you. "Are you perhaps a masochist ? If so—I could ask for you to become one of my interns.."

He smirked and you folded your arms over your chest in clear discontent.

"Not interested. But, thank you for the terribly tempting offer.", you replied with a tight-lipped smile before trying to walk past him once more, but he put himself on your way and suddenly stared at you intently. He was certain now. Your face was familiar to him. He frowned in deep concentration as he tried to remember if he had ever seen you in the hospital before, and if Dr Cuddy hadn't been messing with him about you having been working here for months. You couldn't have been working here for more than a few weeks for him not to know you...That—or you really were a ghost.

You let out a heavy sigh—to hide your inner nervousness—before looking up at him with an expectant arched eyebrow.

"Is something the matter, Dr House ?" He kept silently staring at you and you did your best to remain calm as he kept examining you closely. You seemed to know your way around the hospital, and the badge attached to your breast pocket indicated that you had definitely been an intern for more than a few months...So, how hadn't he ever noticed you before ?

"....You've been avoiding me.", he concluded knowingly and your eyes widened just enough to let him know he was right.

"Why ?", he asked and when he took a step forward, you immediately took a step back. It didn't go unnoticed by Dr House who looked up at your face with an unreadable expression.

"You're scared of me.", he realized and leaned his head back to peer at you suspiciously. Now—more than ever—trying to remember where and when he had seen you before.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about.", you tried to tell him—but your own words betrayed you. You wouldn't tell him that he was the reason you had been unable to sleep for months, that you had bought and read every single one of his essays and small writings because you had been too cowardly to address him a front apology. You knew that he was hard to work with, but also one the best doctors of his time and if it hadn't been for his bad reputation as an eccentric individual and your shared history, you would have applied to become a doctor under his charge instead of Dr Cuddy.

No. You wouldn't tell him. Instead, you decided to hold your head high and show that you weren't afraid by taking two steps forward so that you were face to face.

"I am not afraid of you, Dr House. I want to be better." Dr House seemed surprised by your invasion of his personal space and you at your bold claim, but a mocking grin soon replaced his astonishment and he chuckled.

"Oh, I see now...You're one of those self-righteous doctors who think they can just come in here and judge my work ?" There was a threatening side to his lopsided grin and you frowned before shaking your head.! You didn't know what had pushed you to claim such a thing as becoming better than him, but there was no turning back now.

"Judge ? No. I admire you.", you confessed before unashamedly staring right back at him. "But, I do intend to surpass you."

House's eyes widened slightly at your confession and he smirked before scanning your face one last time—confirming that you were telling the truth. He then hit the floor with the end of his cane—an exhilarating rush of something akin to electric enthusiasm sparking underneath his skin.

"Bring it." You were taken aback by his wide smile, but smiled back and then, something clicked inside Dr House's head. His smile suddenly dropped and his eyes widened in recognition.

"Wait...You're...!". He didn't have the time to finish his sentence that you had thrown one of the children's toys at him in instinctive self-defense and ran for the hills.

Yes. It was a stupid decision. However, you had had no choice but to retreat and close as many doors as you could between the both of you. He did call after you, but you didn't come back.

Now that he had recognized you, you could only hope he would keep quiet.

Your heart was racing in your chest and you could feel tears threatening to spill. You didn't want to be fired because of some stupid misunderstanding. And, you knew your reaction could have been call excessive by some—but they hadn't seen the way he had looked at you the day you had let him think his lameness was a problem to you.

He had looked at you with such misery in his eyes, you wished you had just forgotten about the damn interview and chased after him that day to tell him how truly sorry you were.

Truth was ? You had been taken aback and knew that the struggles must be very painful for him—but you had kept quiet. You had let him believed you were pitying him just because it was the normal reaction to have in such circumstances...that you wouldn't have wanted him as a cripple.

You slid to the floor and started sobbing uncontrollably.

....Why did life have to be so complicated ?

#dr house #dr house x reader

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 8 months

Note

Could I request a House fic with the general prompt being a Doctor/Patient pairing? Like House is attracted to (reader) patient. Your choice of fluff or smut

So sorry it's late but this is my first House fic so I wanted it to be good! Hope you like it!

********************************************************************

Dying's Easy

House x reader

description - you don't want to do the surgery and House is determined to change your mind.

word count - 781

warnings - talks of death, illness, terminal illness, hospitals, surgery, being put under.

a/n - my first House pairing fic so let me know what you think!

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN - request here

Your whole body ached and felt like your blood had been drained and replaced twice over. You tried to curl up onto your side, in search of the comfort you received from such a childlike pose. But the wires and your fragile bones screamed for you to stop. You fell back onto the bed as tears of frustration poured down your cheeks.

A knock from a distinctly wooden object halted your crying. Upon seeing the face of your doctor you quickly wiped away your tears. But he had already seen.

He limped forward and place a chocolate pudding cup and spoon in the space between your hands. Before moving away he squeezed one of your bony hands, a little part of him sunk at the feel of your fragility.

“I got you a present.” He gestured to the dessert with his cane.

You looked at him suspiciously. “They’re free for patients.”

“I never said I paid for the present. Does our love mean so little that you must attach monetary value to it.” He dramatically placed his hand to his heart in faux hurt.

You giggled. “Thank you.” He smiled at the flicker of joy but his frown returned when he saw your hands uselessly attempt to open the cup in spite of their shaking. He rose and took the cup and opened it for you.

You gave him the sweetest smile you could muster but sunk down in the realisation of your inability to complete the task.

He went back and dragged his chair closer to your bed as you slowly tucked in to the delicious treat. Only taking small bites.

You had come to enjoy the frequent visits with your doctor. It seemed he only needed to be with you to soothe his own worries which you saw furrowed on his face. His team had often remarked how unusual his behaviour was, comparing him to manic genius with no sense of empathy. You found their quips funny especially because of how anachronistic they were to the man who helped you fix your pillows any time you so much as squirmed.

“I heard you’re refusing the surgery.” You halted your eating, your face fell. Of course it was this.

“I just don’t want to.”

“You realise you aren’t choosing between some cosmetic alteration, this is the choice between living and dying.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to live.”

“That’s ridiculous everyone wants to live.” He rolled his eyes.

“Living’s tiring.” Your voice became childlike in your admittance. This shocked him as his focus was no solely on you. “I’m tired, Greg.” Your words shook and were on the precipice of falling. He took your shaking hand in his and they lay linked on your bed.

“I know.” He cooed. “I know I’ve been wrong before, but I know I’m right about this. I won for you, now just let me fight it. For you.”

You still couldn’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, afraid you’d crumble.

“Being alive is the worst.” You giggled at his dark quip. “But dying is the easy way out.” He used a finger to gently poke your cheek as you tried to contain your smile. “And I never took you for a coward.”

He sat there with you for a full hour. You dropped in and out of sleep but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand.

Eventually Cameron came to prep you for surgery. House still did not let go.

You lay on the table and the surgeons bustled around you, the anaesthetist approached with the gas. House stood next your head and softly stroked your eyelids to offer some comfort.

“Just one thing.” You managed out. “If I don’t wake up, there’s something I’d regret not doing. Can you kiss me?”

House was stunned for a moment and looked around at the surgeons managing one ear on the interesting turn of events. He carefully leaned down and planted the softest kiss onto your cracked dry lips. As soon as you connected he felt the stress leave your body and you welcomed whatever was to come. The gas mask was placed over your nose and mouth.

“See you in a bit.” House teased.

********************************************************************

Your heavy lids fought open and your blurry vision focused on the outline of your hospital room. Despite the post surgey pain, you could sense that everything else was gone. You were going to be okay. You strained your neck to turn to the side where your eyes landed on House, who’s bedraggled clothes indicated where he had slept waiting for you.

“Welcome back.”

You reached out a weak arm and cupped his cheek.

“Thank you.”

#house md #james wilson #house x wilson #dr house #dr house x reader #house x reader #gregory house #gregory house x reader #gregory house x james wilson #gregory house x you

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cyberstrm · 9 months

Text

house's boys + how they kiss you

a/n: i love this silly doctor show heehehe

cws: none!

GREG HOUSE is rough. like. pin-you-to-the-wall-and-snog-you rough. very handsy, likes to grab your waist and jawline to pull you closer. he's a moment of passion kinda guy, once he's done he'll just walk away and continue whatever he was doing.

JIM WILSON is gentle. a softie. cups your face when he kisses you. he likes when you're on his lap, he can hold you and pull you further onto him white still kissing you. starts off slow but gets really into it.

ROBERT CHASE is sloppy. quick. hands at your waist, kissing quickly and hungrily. he's young and excitable. definitely a lip biter, has made you bleed a couple of times.

ERIC FOREMAN is chivalrous. respectful. he's charming, the type to give you flowers before kissing you. probably was too nervous to kiss you for ages, bless. but when he finally did, he did it a lot.

#house md #house #dr house #greg house x reader #dr house x reader #robert chase x reader #robert chase #jim wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x gregory house #eric foreman #eric foreman x reader #drabbles #hugh laurie

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thenobodies-inc · 1 month

Text

Need someone to write a house x reader fic based off that new hozier song about to drop too sweet

Like imagine omg

#house fanfiction #dr greg house #gregory house #house md #greg house x reader #dr house x reader #james wilson

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stxrshxpxd · 6 months

Text

“that’s my girl!” part 3

part 1 part 2

pairing: dr house x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut

prompt: house hasn’t forgotten what happened the night before and refuses to focus on the case, and reader makes a deal with him

House’s arrival matched my expectation. He limped in through the glass door at around 10:15, in the process of stripping his body of his jacket.

“…his fever is spiking and he vomited three times this morning. He hasn’t had an-“ Foreman spoke but was cut off by House’s demanding tone.

”L/N, I need you in the office.”

I swapped glances with Thirteen quickly.

“We’re in the office.”

House performed a short bit of acting confuddled and then made a face at his own stupidity.

“Sorry, I got that mixed up. Must be all the whiskey I had with my cereal this morning.” He gave a fake chuckle and all of us around the table rolled our eyes in unison.

“I want them out of the office,” he corrected.

Thirteen, Taub, Chase and Foreman proceeded to sigh in unison as well as they began to gather their stuff.

“Cool!” House exclaimed. “Did you all practice that?” he pointed out the synchronized eye rolls and sighs, which only prompted a couple more of them as the team passed him on their way out.

“Are you incapable of having a normal, serious conversation?” I asked, wrapping both my hands around my hot cup of coffee. House tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and sat down.

“No. Let’s have a serious conversation. Tell me about your hopes and dreams.”

I began to keep my daily count of House-induced eye rolls as I did my second one.

“Specifically the dirty dreams you had about me last night and your hopes of having sex with me on this table,” he added.

“You clearly had too much whiskey with your cereal,” I confirmed with a nod and flipped the page of our patient’s file, turning my gaze down.

“I didn’t have any alcohol last night. You didn’t either.”

I flexed my jaw and kept staring at the documents but couldn’t make myself read any of it. The memories of being pressed against House’s chest and ravenously kissing him replayed in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about how good of a kisser he was.

“I don’t think refusing sex with a cripple is politically correct,” House said. I had to laugh and my third eye roll of the day came before I could stop it. I looked up at him, his short hair pointing in several directions and his stare intensely fixed on me.

“How politically correct is it to refuse to treat a dying patient because you’d rather have sex with your colleague?”

“Employee,” House was quick to correct and I squinted my eyes at him.

“Are you implying we’re gonna have sex?” he asked additionally.

“Do you promise to give a crap about the case if we do?” I bargained, trying to ignore the growing tingles in me.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, sweetheart,” House smirked as he watched me stomp over to the glass walls and in two swift movements lock the door and draw the blinds.

Coming back up to him and standing in between his spread legs, he instantly hooked his hands around my bare upper thighs under my skirt and pulled me closer. I laid my hands on his shoulders and he skillfully slid two of his fingers under my underwear, swiping them through my inarguable wetness.

“It’s so cute you’re pretending you don’t want me. I think I’ve got some pretty convincing proof you do,” House muttered and flaunted his sticky fingers before sucking them clean, which only added to the fluttering feelings inside me.

“Shut up,” I breathed and quickly straddled him. House chuckled darkly and studied me in detail as I rolled my hips on him and felt him grow inside his jeans.

“And you’re eager-“

“What part of ‘shut up’ do you not understand?” I growled and grabbed his chin firmly before smashing a kiss into his smirking lips.

Sliding back on his legs, he groaned at the pain of me pressing down on his aching thigh, so I was quick to tear his jeans open. He seemed to like that more and he stared up at me with the hints of a smirk.

I was indeed pretty eager when I dug his hard-on out of his boxers and had to keep myself from making too big a fuss about his size, swallowing a gasp as to not feed his ego.

House’s fingers clasped the flesh of my hips under my hiked up skirt and I pulled my underwear to the side to cautiously run the length of his cock between my soaked folds a few times. I caught him gazing down with his lips parted and eyes half closed, breathing through his mouth.

“May I speak?” he asked pettily, referencing my demand for him to shut up. I met his eyes and chuckled with another roll of the eyes. Four.

I kissed him as a response and he took a risk, pulling away and speaking into my ear with a deep, hushed voice.

“God, you’re wet for me!”

I smiled and hid my blushing cheeks in his neck as I finally pushed him inside me, spilling quiet moans down his broad chest. House let a few groans out and his fingertips dug deeper into my skin as he helped set the pace of my grinding on him.

“Come on, I know you can take all of me, can’t you?” he breathed tauntingly and I swung my head back up to stare at him, sitting down all the way on him and burying his cock inside me. I clenched my walls around him and made a moan trickle out from between his lips. His cheeks were pink and his intense eyes somehow brighter than normal.

“That’s it,” he exhaled encouragingly and bucked his hips into me again, making me resume my grinding on him.

“You feel really good inside me, House,” I admitted in the middle of my hazy, horny state. It prompted a cocky smirk from him which instantly made me regret it, and I kissed his grin to wipe it off his face.

“I always knew you’d be begging for me sooner or later.”

“I would never beg,” I snapped and picked up the pace, with arousal and anger boiling in my core.

“But you would get on your knees for me,” House answered while holding back a handful of groans. My legs were shaking around him and I scoffed at his comment as I felt myself coming closer to my orgasm.

“And you’ll come for me, won’t you?” House spurred me on, kissing and nipping at my neck. I didn’t bother answering him as I was already faced with my high. I dropped my forehead against his strong shoulder again and bit my lip hard as I let a few whimpers out, feeling my body twitch and shake and break a sweat.

House forced my hips back and forth on him a few times and I stared down at our spent bodies as he pushed me off his cock and came across my thigh. I allowed a moment of weakness as I watched him catch his breath and lick his lips. He caught his cum with his fingers before it dripped down the side of my thigh and he edged his hand closer to my mouth in a suggestion. I sucked his fingers clean swiftly and noticed there was something new in his eyes. Something genuine and maybe vulnerable.

“Back to work,” I declared shortly and patted House’s warm, stubbly cheek before sliding off of his lap and pulling my skirt back down. That new something that had been hiding behind several walls in him was still with us for a few beats as he zipped his jeans back up. I grabbed the patient’s file and pressed it into his chest, feeling his faint heartbeat as I waited for him to grab it, but he never did.

He rolled his head around with an elongated sigh and let it hang for a moment as he blinked up at the ceiling and spoke in a low voice.

“It’s fungal meningitis. Start him on 0.8 mg amphotericin and 100 mg of flucytosine.”

And without even so much as a glance my way (in fact he seemed to be avoiding my eye contact) he made his way out towards the hallway, leaving me with my rejected files in hand staring at his broad back as he left.

#bahahhah i hate that i wrote that little bit about his size but #dr house #house #gregory house #dr house x reader #smut #imagine #fic

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