#housemd fanfic

[chas3supremacist]

big brother, best friend

pairing/s: Robert Chase x Sister!Reader (Platonic, obviously.)

summary: Robert Chase being the best big brother for 1800 words straight despite being through hell himself.

Request - Anonymous asked:

what about older brother/cousin/family friend (basically someone you're close to and grew up with) Robert Chase who hates when people in the hospital try to flirt with the reader. maybe he even gets the rest of house's team + wilson to also prevent them from getting hit on

 cw: overprotective big bro chase!! cat calling, sexual harassment, mentions of child abuse, childhood trauma

word count: 1.8k words

a/n: I love big brother chase!! best big brother on planet earth!! Also, I know that chase canonically has a younger half sister who he took care of, but for the sake of my fic, I'm going to be ignoring that - The reader is chase's full sister! Also, for the first couple paragraphs of this there is little to no dialogue, just backstory! Also I kind of differed from the request so I hope you liked this anon! also this is an absolutely atrocious ending on my part im so sorry

For as long as you could remember, your older brother had looked after you - Despite him being 5 years older than you. He'd try and settle you the best that he could while your father was away on his work trips, and when your mother was drinking and couldn't deal with the two of you and she would lock you in your fathers office. He knew that your mother hated the two of you from a young age, but it didn't click for you - You loved your mom more than anything ever, even if she didn't feel the same way about you.

When your dad left when you and Chase were ten and fifteen, it left the two of you to look after your alcoholic mother - Chase took the brunt of looking after her, since you were still so young. He had taken on more than any child his age should have ever needed to, he was responsible for both you and your mom. He was responsible for making sure that you got to school and picking you up, responsible for making sure that you were eating, that your homework was done. Well, that was until your father made a brief return, only to tell your brother that he was sending you off to boarding school in England, claiming that Chase should be focusing on more important things rather than looking after you since that should be your mom's job. You spent 3 years at boarding school, on your own in a country you had never been to in your life before your brother decided that he would attend seminary in England.

Despite everything that had happened to you in your relatively short life, Chase had always known you to be happy and cheery even in the darkest situations - However, 3 years at boarding school had clearly had a negative impact on how you viewed your life and yourself. You were excited to see your brother, of course you were, but you were nowhere near as happy as you would have been had your father not torn you away from your entire life and made you start a new one at 10 years old. Chase took you out at the weekends when he could, but found himself having 'a crisis of faith' - Meaning he slept with the groundskeeper of the seminary's wife and was reconsidering his commitment to his faith. Upon leaving the seminary, Chase found himself considering returning to Australia to attend the University of Sydney to continue his study of medicine - He felt terrible for considering not telling you and disappearing. But he soon remembered how you were feeling when he had first seen you, you looked exhausted and as if you hadn't eaten in days; Remembering that, Chase knew that he couldn't leave you.

Since then, you had been living with your brother, moving to New Jersey with him since he had went for a job at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital - Unbeknownst to you, your father had called up Chase's boss, Dr House to convince him to give him the job. You had turned 18 the week before Chase started his new job, and since you were starting college, it appeared that you both had something to celebrate. Chase was beyond proud of you, you had gotten straight A's all throughout high school and had received a full scholarship to Stanford Law School in California, where you could at least travel back to see your brother since at least this time you were in the same country - Which you often did. Your drive to become a lawyer was so you could specialise in family law, after talking through your childhood with your therapist, you decided that you wanted to make a difference to children like yours lives before things could go as far as they did for you. Now on your summer break from your junior year, you were going to spend the summer in New Jersey with Chase - He had told you of the new fellows that House hired, Allison Cameron and Eric Foreman. You had teased him about Cameron, saying that you gave it 3 months before they were sleeping together.

You rubbed your tired eyes as you walked through the hallways of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, you hadn't managed to sleep on your 5 and a half hour flight from San Diego to New Jersey and it was really taking its toll on you - You didn't cope well without sleep, which your brother would attest to. You sighed and threw your head back against the wall of the elevator, exhaling heavily as your backpack weighed heavy on your shoulders. You gave a tight lipped smile to the janitor who stood in the elevator with you, who grinned back at you, giving you an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You looked away from him, opting to look at your legs instead.

"You're a beautiful girl, you know," He told you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You shied away from him, feeling your heart pound against your chest as you saw his face screw up at you implicit rejection of his advance. "Listen, I'm just trying to compliment you, you don't need to be a bitch about it." He scolded angrily, moving to stand in front of you as you blinked back the tears which burned in your eyes.

"Please just leave me alone," Was all you could meekly manage out as a response to his anger at your rejection. He stepped back as the elevator dinged at your floor, acting as if nothing had happened. As you pulled your hoodie over yourself, you froze as the janitor grabbed your butt. You sighed and shook your head, trying to stop yourself from crying as you stepped out of the elevator and made your way to the diagnostics department. You sighed as you opened the door to the office, freezing like a deer caught in headlights as an older man, who you presumed to be Dr House, spun around to face you.

"Chase, why is there a mini you standing in my office?" 

Chase looked up, a grin on his face as he saw you in Houses office. House knew that Chase had a sister, but he had never met her - Now he wished he had met her sooner.

"Hey," You greeted him, looking out of the office window, fearing that the janitor had followed you to the office. Chase took note of your lack of enthusiasm and how alarmed you seemed to be. He stood and came to hug you, noticing how you almost flinched at your brother stepping towards you - From this alone, Chase knew that something had happened.

"Are you okay?" His big brother instincts were cranked up to 11 as he saw the tears bubbling in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any second. You always got this way when something happened, you would try and be brave about it, but the second someone asked if you were okay, you would crumble. Chase knew you were close to crumbling when your bottom lip started to tremble. "Okay, why don't we go outside," You nodded in agreement to chases suggestion, not listening as he apologised to House, who made some kind of snide remark that you didn't care to listen to. 

You managed to hold back the tears until you got out of the office, and that was when you crumbled, breaking down into tears in your brothers arms. "It's okay. Why don't you tell me what happened?" Chase asked you, his heart breaking and anger filling him at the thought of someone making you so upset.

"W-well I got in the elevator to come up here and there was a janitor in there too and so I didn't say anything to him and-and then he called me beautiful," You tried to compose yourself a bit before continuing so that your brother could at least understand you a little better. "And so he like...reaches out to touch my shoulder and I move away from him and then he says that I'm being a bitch because he's just trying to compliment me and then when I left the elevator he grabbed my butt." You explained to him. Chase was beyond mad. How could someone do that to you? To anyone, never mind his own baby sister.

"Did you manage to see his name on his badge?" He asked you gently, not wanting to upset you anymore than you already were. You sniffled as you nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose as you tried to calm yourself down.

"Yeah, it was David, he was like..5'3, bald, had a really weird looking beard," You described to Chase, who nodded as he hugged you again. He'd make sure that he was punished to the full extent Cuddy could punish a janitor, which would hopefully mean that he would lose his job, and have to explain to potential employers that he was fired for sexual harassment. And maybe, just maybe, Chase would pay him a visit. Chase was by no mean a violent person, but if someone messed with his little sister, he wouldn't let that slide - He had once hospitalised one of your ex boyfriends who had sent an explicit photo of you around your school.

Yeah, maybe you didn't have such a terrible big brother.

[velaryqns]

Could you do a House fanfic where after failing at treating a patient, House takes his stress and anger out on the reader? She then considers quitting being a doctor. House is confronted by Dr. Cuddy and his team, causing him to go comfort and apologize to the girl.

Uncontrolled Anger

Gregory House x Female Reader (I took it romantically for fun)

Universe: House MD

Summary: Maybe you should have known better than to question House about his feelings.

Warnings: Patient death, mentions of addictions, angst

You sat silently, your eyes on the dead body in front of you. You had watched as the team fought to help the man, all for it to fail after multiple misdiagnoses and wrong solutions. You, being a doctor, knew what they were going through. You’d gone through it a few times with your patients.

Sighing, you rest a hand on Taub’s shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. He returned it, then watched you go as you made your way out of the room and eventually wandered to House’s office. When you reached the glass door with his name on it, you stood silently for a moment with your arms crossed. He had one hand in a fist by the side of his head and the other filling out paperwork.

You brought your hand down to the handle, allowing yourself into his office. You took a few paces, then turned your attention to the big yellow chair by his bookshelf. You lowered yourself into the chair, watching him silently for a moment.

“How are you?” You asked gently, not wanting to annoy him while he was in the middle of scribbling on the sheet.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say,” he muttered, still keeping his gaze away from you.

“You could at least say that you’re okay,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as you shook it. You knew he handled emotions horribly, in ways that often required you to intervene, “Greg—“

He slammed the pen down and looked at you. And you could see why he had been avoiding your gaze to begin with, “You’re not a therapist. In fact, you’re presently the reason I could end up needing one. I just want some peace and quiet because excuse me for not being Doctor Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What —“ You cut yourself off, truly hurt by his words. His blue eyes held no remorse for what he said, and you quickly stood and left the room. You bumped into Chase, but ignored him entirely as you made your way down the hall with the intention of going to the elevator.

As you stood silently in the elevator, waiting to go down to the main floor to leave for the evening, you processed why you continued to try and support the man that. You stared at the metal doors, jaw clenched as you finalized your decision.

You didn’t want to work in the same building as someone like Greg House. Cuddy wouldn’t fire him, he’s too good.

Once you reached the main floor, you went to the clinic, seeing if there was any help you could offer and breathing a sigh of relief when you were able to step in. You dove into working throughout the clinic, waiting patiently to be able to talk to Cuddy about what was going on.

You filed patients in and out of the room you were using, only stopping for nurses to clean and sterilize everything between each patient. However, your consistent flow was ruined by Foreman's sudden intrusion into the room. You stared at him.

"Do you need something? Because I would like to treat my patients," you informed him.

"Just checking on you," he shrugged, tucking his hands in his pants pocket and leaning against the door, further preventing you from leaving the room, let alone treating your patients.

"I am fine," you muttered, tossing a file on the counter and crossing your arms. You leaned against the counter, "I am tired of him behaving like a child; I never thought I'd consider leaving my position because Cuddy refuses to fire House."

"I can talk to her for you,"

"Not worth it," you shook your head, "Now can you please go?"

Foreman was reluctant for a moment, but then nodded his head and walked out of the room. Your next patient came in, and you returned to your job.

Little did you know, Foreman was taking matters into his own hands despite your protests. The team liked you, there was no denying it, so of course he turned to Cuddy because of what you'd said. It was hard to believe, especially when you typically had a strong relationship with House, even when he was being childish.

House was in his office when Cuddy went search for him, her hands on her hips. He stared blankly upon her arrival, a frown on his face as he waited for what she had to say.

"You're going to make her quit,"

"Her?" House asked, shaking his head and shrugging as he waited for an elaboration. He looked toward the office door to see the team staring at him with disapproving looks, which caused him to sigh and roll his eyes, "Y/n's choices are not my fault."

“You’re pathetic,” Cuddy muttered. House shrugged. To him, there was no point in denying it. Cuddy clenched her jaw, “I thought you liked her!”

“She’s ear grating, like you,” Lisa frowned and House shrugged once more.

“I can’t lose another good doctor because of your antics, House,”

She spun on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving House to his own thoughts.

It was early in the evening, you’d showered and done some dishes, when there was a knock on your door. You were less than enthusiastic to open it, especially after peering through the hole to see House on the other side. He leaned on his cane lazily, a bag of what was clearly takeout food in his other hand as he looked down at you.

“What do you want?”

“I come bearing food,” he held the back up to emphasize his point.

You rolled your eyes and moved to slam the door in his face, but it made contact with his cane instead. House let himself in, limping toward your couch and plopping on it. The smell of the Chinese takeout hit your nose, making your mouth water as you pushed the door shut the rest of the way and turned to face the man on your couch.

“What do you want?” You repeated, less than enthused and lacking the emotion you usually had when speaking to House.

“Not a lot of hospitals would be willing to take you,” he spoke matter of factly. He dug into the brown paper bag, pulling out bulls of food and beginning to eat out of his own, “Foreman struggled to get a new job when he had to leave—“

“Foreman was accused of malpractice, and caught,” you reminded House.

“Malpractice is a common occurrence in this hospital, you think any other Dean would hire someone who’s worked with me? You’re poorly mistaken, Dollface,”

“You’re a piece of shit,” you spat, shaking your head and storming into the kitchen, “You know that?”

“I just call em like I see em,”

“If you don’t have anything genuine to say, then leave,”

There was silence, and then you heard your couch creak as he got up. Good, he got the point. That was what you thought until you heard his cane moving across the linoleum floor of your kitchen. You turned to see Greg House standing over you, and you gulped.

“What do you expect me to do here?” He questioned.

“Oh I don’t know, apologize?” You countered, side stepping him to grab a glass from a cupboard, “I was helping you. Making sure you were okay and not going to do something stupid after losing a patient — but apparently that wasn’t good enough, hm?”

“Y/n—“

“No, all I wanted to do was help you,” you faced him, “everybody in that damned hospital does what they can to help you, and this is how you repay us? That’s real shitty, House.”

House. Unlike everyone else, you rarely used his last name when talking to him. When speaking of him, sure, when in professional settings, almost always. But never in the privacy of you two or amongst friends. That’s when he realized the reality of what he’d caused.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he spoke, taking a step toward you. He leaned his cane on the counter and placed his hands on your waist. You didn’t move your arms from your sides, merely looking into his blue eyes to see if he was being genuine.

It seemed too good to be true.

“Accept the apology before I’m forced to take it back,”

And there it was.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” you muttered, moving your hands to rest on his biceps. House squeezed your waist, knowing that he got what he wanted. You rose to your tip-toes, your lips just barely touching his before you pulled away, “Now come on: that take-out is calling my name.”

[dearestcynthiaw]

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.’

-----

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 ~

[pomegranateshrimp]

⚕️Always (James Wilson x Reader)

Fluff Oneshot

No NSFW

Decently short read

—————————————————

You had a rough day yesterday. You work as a psychologist at the Princeton–Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, and no matter how much you tried it seemed like everything was going wrong with your work, and you had developed a sore throat of your own. When you finally came home you took a melatonin. You usually don’t take any because it messes with your sleep schedule, but tonight was going to be one of those sleepless nights; you could feel it. You finally went to bed at around 9 or 10pm. Somehow you knew it wouldn’t help.

You had just woken up from a nightmare, one where you lost James. It was terrible. You looked around to see he had his arms wrapped around you. It was still nighttime it seemed. You felt terrible. You had a headache and a sore throat, you were congested and nauseous as well. You went out into the kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge to somewhat soothe your throat and you noticed the time on the microwave. “2:18am?!?” You think to yourself. It was obviously early but you didn’t think it’d be that early. You thought about going to bed but quickly realized you wouldn’t be able to, you had already woken up, and if you took a melatonin you were worried you would be asleep for the next 8 hours, and you had to be in at work by seven. But at this point you weren’t sure if you were even gonna go. You groan and stumble across the kitchen to grab tissues, having ran out of the ones in the bedroom and needing to unclog your nose. You stand there staring at nothing in particular, in a sort of sick half awake haze. Suddenly you feel a familiar hand wrapping around your waist from behind you, with his head resting on your shoulders.

“Mm.. What are you doing up?” He mumbled with his face still leaning on your body, he was obviously much more tired than you. It was no surprise you woke him up though, he holds on to you almost for dear life when you guys are in bed

“I’m sorry did I wake you?”

“That doesn’t matter, what’s wrong?” He turns you around to look at him despite the dark atmosphere

“Nothing I just don’t feel the best… my throat is sore and I didn’t have the greatest day at work yesterday I guess”

“Are you sure that’s it? I may be half asleep but something doesn’t feel right”

“I… I don’t know, it’s really childish and.. weird” You struggled to get the words out. Although it was just a dream, it was bothering you a lot, but you weren’t sure whether to tell him. Tears pricked your eyes.

“You can tell me anything, I won’t think it’s ‘weird’, trust me”

Tears start threatening to roll down your cheeks, and you let some of them go.

“I- I had a dream where.. where I lost you”

He pulls you into a tight embrace.

“It’s not childish, or weird. I’m scared of losing you too. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”

You both stay there like that for some time, just holding each other and crying on the other persons shoulders as James draws circles on your back with his fingers.

After a bit James pulls away and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“As much as I would love to continue doing this, we should probably go check your temperature.” He says with a soft giggle and wipes away the tears from your cheeks with his thumb “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” He pulls you into the bathroom and sits you up on the sink counter and takes your temperature.

“No fever.” A slight beep comes from the machine. “But you’re still hot to me.” He smirks and leans in closer to you

“Oh shut up!” You blush and lean in a bit closer as well. He closes the gap of space between you two and kisses you. You pull away after a few long seconds.

“I don’t want you getting sick..”

“I’d be honored to get sick by you but.. you’re probably right especially with work tomorrow.”

“Yea”

“Hey uhm, speaking of work tomorrow, what did you wanna do? Because it’s really early and I know you can’t go back to sleep because you’re ‘already up’. I mean if you’re going to stay home I’d be willing to cancel tomorrow to take care of you if you’d like.”

“That actually sounds really nice, especially with some of the cases I’m working on at work right now.” You smile at him. “Thank you, for everything this morning.”

“I’ll choose you always.”

He picks you up from the counter and takes you to the bedroom where he cuddled and took care of you as you rambled on about your work troubles, giving you water, tissues, a hot towel for your headache, and even a lot of kisses despite your protesting and concern for his well-being.

-Blooper thingy!!!

Cuddy: *Enters Houses office* “Hey have you seen Wilson or L/n?”

House: “Oh please they’re probably staying home cause Wilson fucked them too hard or something.”

Cuddy: *Rolls eyes at him* “Thanks for the helpful very needed input.”

House: “Anytime!” *The door slams*

[thatwholethingwiththeduck]

House MD fic recs (Hilson, some angst but also adorableness)

Shake The Disease - Wilson says House's name in bed with Julie.

The Game of Wilson - workplace cuddling.

i will see your body bare (and still i will live here) - homeplace cuddling, while detoxing.

Permanent - Wilson has a tattoo, House needs to see it. Adorable.

no need to worry (making up your mind) - Christmas fluff involving House and Wilson fake-dating to try to get out of seasonal family time

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

This fic is based on my one-shot about House staying alive after Wilson died to keep his promise to Thirteen! It's the same idea, just a lot longer <3

[not-my-division]

istg one of the best hilson fics in the entire world is Denial is a River in Egypt on ao3 by BitchImaWriteritsalldrama. it’s so adorable bcoz supportive ducklings and coming out and hilsonnnn and first kiss and it’s my life now. i swear i’ve read this fic at least 10 times in the last few days.

[libbymania]

starting my cuddy/oc fanfic wish me luck

[arcanalux-ao3]

Hi guys, check out my House x Wilson fanfiction <3

Name: The Cabin

Chapter 2 is out now!

Tags: Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, How Do I Tag, Humor, Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranormal, Ghosts.

As always, thanks for reading and I hope you have an amazing day!

Oh, and I am also accepting requests if you'd like to see any trope/plot with this ship! :)

[gotcustardy]

Been away for a while. Might be coming back more often. In the meantime, here's a House MD novel length (seriously, it's longer than a couple of the LOTR books) fanfic I wrote.

It starts after After Hours and departs from canon from there. Season 8 never happens. Huddy deserved better.

[cupcraft]

I've thought a lot btw about this. But I am not going to be finishing any of my dsmp fics or osmp fics. They all are Tommy centric but also crimeboys at large. I just do not feel comfortable at this pt engaging with the story and or anything to do with Wilbur. At this at this time. I will be in the coming days changing my fics to discontinued.

I will not be deleting them. I am proud of them and it's my art about a fictional story that i loved. I don't want that to be taken away. And if at any pt i do want to orphan/delete, I will be giving fair warning.

Going forward my arts going to be centered around my original writing oc blog at @steampunkcdplayer as well as writing fanfic for other fandoms, right now there's plans for psych fics and housemd fics and a lucky star post canon au.

This post is about me do not derail or see it as commentary on you or what you should do. Just make sure to support all victims.

[chas3supremacist]

you're on your own, kid

pairing: James Wilson x Daughter!Reader

summary: Wilson delivers some devastating news to his daughter.

cw: cancer, house s8 spoilers even though its like 11 years old, death of a parent (mentioned), angst, 

a/n: okay, so this ones pretty heavy but is kind of written off of my own personal experience but if I had a good relationship with my parent, but anyway I digress. I hope everyone at least enjoys some angst, as always, feedback, likes and reblogs are always appreciated.

word count: 1.7k words

You couldn't face this. You hadn't spoken to your dad in weeks after he had broken the news to you - He had cancer and wasn't going to do chemotherapy. He had only told you after the surgery he had undergone proved unsuccessful, deciding he wasn't going to spend the last months of his life in a chemo suite, he had sat you down and told you, which resulted in an argument between the two of you.

"I have cancer, Y/N,"

The four words lingered heavily in the air between the two of you. At first you waited for the kick of the joke he was obviously telling you, because that's what it was, right? A joke? Your dad couldn't have cancer, it wouldn't make sense. Wilson could see that you were taking in what he had told you, so didn't say anything, opting to let you process what was going on.

"What?" It was all you could manage to say without your voice breaking, anything more and you would have certainly burst into tears as you realised that your dad wasn't really joking. Wilson sighed heavily, swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked at you. You were 22 now, in your senior year of college, studying to become a lawyer, but now, to your dad, you looked like a scared little girl.

And maybe that's what you were - A scared little girl who was terrified to lose her dad.

"I have cancer," You clenched your eyes shut as you shook your head, as if refusing to accept that this was happening. "And I'm not taking chemo." He sounded too definite on that for your liking. What did he mean, 'not taking chemo'? Did he not want to get better?

"Why not?" You didn't want to come across as angry, but you just didn't understand. Wilson sighed yet again, he understood your frustrations, House had reacted the same way when he had told him. 

"I don't want to spend the last months of my life in a chemo suite, Y/N," You scoffed and shook your head, if he was being honest, this wasn't far off of  how Wilson expected you to react. "I don't expect you to agree with my decision or be happy with it-"

"You're being selfish. How can you do this?" Now this was the reaction that your dad expected - He knew you would be hurt, be angry, how could you not be? Your dad was essentially sealing his own fate and he was entirely okay with it. "You're not even going to try and save yourself?" Your voice broke as you looked at your father, your bottom lip trembling as your mind raced.

Images of your father, sick and frail in a hospital bed plagued your mind - you forced yourself to hold back a sob at the very thought of it.

"Y/N, there's every chance that if I take the chemotherapy I'll either get sicker, or it won't help. At least this way I'll be able to spend what time I have left with you and with House," You shook your head at his explanation, how was he okay with throwing away his life like this? "Please, honey.

"No, dad. I'm not going to sit around and watch you deteriorate. House might be okay with that, but House is your friend, he can have new friends when you're gone, I can't have another dad," You tearfully ranted to him, unable to look him in the eyes for the fear that you would break down. "I'm sorry, dad."

The worst part was that Wilson totally understood your reaction - how else were you supposed to react to news like this? He nodded, accepting your response to what he had said - Accepting your response doesn't mean it didn't hurt him. Did you think that making that decision was easy for him? That he was fine with what he was doing? That he wouldn't get to do so many things with you? He wasn't expecting you to understand, but thought it would be worth an attempt - which clearly proved futile.

You sighed as you parked your car outside of your dads apartment building, sighing as you looked up to the third floor, looking at the window which belonged to your bedroom, which Wilson always kept ready for you in case anything happened which meant you needed to come home - to you, this building wasn't home, and neither was the apartment which you spent your entire childhood and teenage years in, it was the man in the apartment who felt like your home, your dad. It made you feel sick to your stomach that in a years time when your dad was no longer here, that that apartment would be some new families house, and the children would find their home in their parents, while the home you found yourself in was no longer here. They would paint over the walls which you and your dad had painted together, even though he had done most of the work, and with painting over the walls, they would paint over all of the memories you had made in that house, erasing any trace of you and your dad having lived there.

Since your dad had broken the news of his cancer to you, the world had been black and white. In 4 swift words, the colour had been drained from your life, life plans you had made with your dad torn away by a brutal disease, nothing was funny - Not even Chase's jokes poking fun at Taub made you laugh anymore. All you could think about was how your life crumbled around you in those 4, venomous words.

Sighing, you shook your head and rubbed your eyes of the tears which threatened to spill from them. You hadn't spoken to him since the day he had told you of his illness, and you had even ignored his many attempts to contact you, through both calls and texts. Guilt had begun to gnaw at you though, here your father was, at this point 5 months to live, and you were ignoring him. The next time he called you, you decided to answer and arrange a date to talk things out and explain to him why you react in the way that you did. Getting out of your car, you did your best to compose yourself as you made your way up the stairs of the building to the apartment. Your hand shakily hovered over the door, it felt like a pit had opened up in your stomach at the thought of seeing your dad. Before you could do anything else, your hand acted without the input from your brain, and your hand rapped on the hard wood of the door before you could change your mind. You heard shuffling from behind the door before it opened, and your breath caught in the back of your throat, in relief, if you will, as your dad was revealed behind the door.

You expected him to look, well, for a better lack of terms, terrible - You had heard of cancer patients who had become emaciated shells of their former selves, almost skeletal in their forms; but your dad? He just looked like your dad. If you were good enough at lying, which you weren't and your dad would attest to, you would have convinced yourself that he wasn't dying, it felt like you were seeing colour again after it had been drained from your life. But then you remembered he was dying, and suddenly the world became black and white again. 

Your bottom lip began to tremble as you looked at your dad, your eyes filling with tears as you stepped into your house, Wilson shutting the door behind you and studying the back of you as you stood in front of him, your back facing him.

"Y/N-" Wilson stumbled back as your threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you sobbed. He frowned as he put his arms around you, realising that although indirectly, he was the cause of your sobs and your pain.

"I'm sorry," was all that Wilson was able to make out from your crying - He knew that you were apologising in regards to your reaction, but he was able to understand why you took the news the way that you did. "I-I'm not ready for you to not be here, dad." Wilson frowned as he felt tears bubble in his eyes, looking down at you - Yet again seeing a terrified little girl who feared nothing but being without her daddy.

But for some reason, this time felt different, because this time that's how you felt. For the first time in your life you felt scared to actually be without your dad.

"I know, honey, but it'll be okay," Wilson didn't know if it would be okay, if you would be okay, but if it gave you some assurance for now, it would be fine. "I love you so much, and I always will, even if I'm not here." You felt like a child again, he was assuring you like you were one, but you felt oddly safe with that sentiment - you felt at home as he wiped the tears away from your face with one hand, while the other ran up and down your back. You treasured the moment in which you were able to feel at home, as you feared you didn't have many of these moments left.

But that was why you treasured them, right?

[velaryqns]

Can you write a house md imagine where the reader is a nurse and she always butts in on what the diagnosis might be and he always brushes it off but she's been right a handful of times?

Always right

pairing: greg house x fem!reader

fandoms: house md

warnings: none?

disclaimer: do not repost my works onto any other platforms, and if you see my writing somewhere on an account that I have not confirmed to have: please let me know.

I sighed from behind the nurse’s station, filling out a patient form while waiting for Cuddy to leave the patient’s room. A loud voice grabbed my attention, and I looked up from my writing to see House limping into the clinic.

“Greg,” I greeted and rose to my feet, ready to approach him to silence his loud remarks, “you’re disrupting my patients.”

His blue eyes found my own at the sound of me warning him. He gave a fake apology and walked to the station, leaning on it, “Can I get a refill on my prescription?”

“Have you considered walking with your cane on the right side?”

“No,” House shook his head.

I grinned, slammed a folder shut and leaned in, “Then no.”

“I’ll just go to Cuddy,”

“She’s busy with a patient,” I countered, walking away from the edge of the counter. I grabbed a prescription pad and threw it at him, “Bother Wilson.”

“You’re not supposed to be indulging me,”

“No, but you won’t leave me alone,” I shook my head, not bothering to look at House. I knew he’d be watching me with wide eyes and a raised brow, hand resting on the pad as he considered if I was fibbing or not. I finally glanced up, “Greg.”

“Y/n,”

I scowled and he smiled, then lifted the pad in the air, “Thank you nurse for doing your job, neglecting a cripple…how rude.”

He looked back at me with a sad look on his face, leaning against the door and walking backward while the people on the waiting room looked between the both of us. I clenched my jaw, a hand clamping into a fist while I approached the counter, “I only neglect addicts.”

That silenced him, shock crossing his face before he left the room. A throat was cleared beside me and I jumped to see Cuddy standing in the station with a raised brow.

“Thank you for not giving in, but the public scene is no better,” she held a folder out me and I muttered an apology while taking it from her, “now I’d better go save, Wilson.”

I sat back down at my desk in the nurses station, checking in patients and letting the doctors and other nurses give their check ups. It was going to be a long day.

By lunch, I’d weaseled my way to House and Wilson’s table. His ‘Ducklings’, Chase, Allison, and Foremen, were seated at the next table. They all looked fed up with him for the day. Chase watched in disbelief as I sat down right next to Wilson, completely ignoring House’s warning stare.

“So,” I set my lunch down and began situating myself. I could feel the eyes of the team on me the entire time, “What’s the case today?”

“Dystopia, tremors, chorea, blepharospasm, ataxia,” House spat the words out, stealing a fry from Wilson with every one. I watched with a raised brow, “anemia…”

“Have you tested the pancreas?” I asked nonchalantly, taking a bite of my lunch. The team gaped at me and House rolled his eyes.

“No, but I’m assuming that based on how much you’re correct you expect us to?” House sent me a fake smile and I returned one.

“Why yes, of course,” I tilted my head and took another bite, “Have you done any Iron tests?”

He scoffed, “Of course we have, nothing.”

I hummed dubiously and he sighed, glancing toward the ducklings, “go run more iron tests and check the pancreas.”

“How do you even-“ Foreman started but then held a hand in the air, “never mind, I’m better off not knowing.”

I chuckled while he walked away with the rest of the team, then turned to House, “How much are you gonna pay up if I’m right?”

“Nothing, because you’re wrong,”

Even Wilson have a doubtful noise before scurrying away from the table to return to his department. House glanced at me, then stood and left. I finished my lunch and returned to the clinic, sitting at the station and resuming to what I’d been before lunch.

A few hours passed when House limped in, lips pressed in a thin line as he dropped a clipboard on the desk. I started, eyes shooting wide as I rose to my feet.

“Give us a diagnosis, Nurse y/l/n,”

“Very funny,” I lifted the clipboard and read it over, “Iron accumulation in the pancreas.”

I hummed and held the clipboard down, staring off into the distance before I glanced back at House. He looked at me expectantly, “Aceruloplasminemia.”

“Do you know how rare-“

“Yes I know how rare, but I also know it comes down to genetics and you need to hear me out on this,” I held the clipboard toward him, “again.”

He took the clipboard and left in silence, but I didn’t miss the slight glare he sent to me at the same time. It’s not often that he comes to me for help, but every time I’ve been right. So he won’t fight me on this one.

A few more hours passed and I was cleaning up the clinic for the night, most other nurses had left and Cuddy was back in her office. The door opened and I looked up from what I was sorting at the desk to see House once more.

“Greg,”

“Y/n,”

“Just tell me I’m right so we can get this over with,” I sighed and tossed a folder aside. I rounded the desk and leaned against it.

House stood in front of me, both hands on his cane while watching me. I folded my arms and raised a brow expectantly. House eventually have a reluctant sigh, and took another step toward me, “You were right.”

“What a shocker,” I responded with a smirk, taking a long pause between each word and inching closer toward him, “you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t thank you,” he shook his head.

“No, but you will for everything else,” I whispered and grabbed him by the back of his neck. House leaned in and was quick to press his lips against mine.

He pulled away and looked down at me, “Maybe.”

“What are we wanting for supper?” I asked him and turned back to the station.

“I think you need to stop giving your input in my cases,” he raised a brow while I began putting files away once more.

I hummed, “I don’t like the sounds of that.”

“I’m trying to challenge my team,”

“And it’s fun to aggravate you,”

“You’re right about that,” he huffed.

“I’m always right, Greg,” I didn’t bother looking up at him, because the scoff he gave while rounding the station to sit in my desk chair was an answer enough.

[startrekker2011]

✨Facts about me✨

Other accounts on Tumblr: @johnlock2024

@trekkspert @teenagetravelerdonut (I don't post so much on these accounts)

Name: Maria

People might tell you that I'm antisocial. At least I'm more social than those gossip bitches

Nationality: Romanian

Gender: ??

Orientation: queer, non-binary, grey-aromantic (I only had one crush ever in my life and still have her as a crush)

Sports I practice: Tennis, badminton, swimming, artistic iceskating

Fave movies: Sherlock, Superman, HouseMD and Star Trek. Lots of Trek.

Fave ships: Spock/Kirk, Spock/Bones, Kirk/Bones, McSpirk, Sherlock/John, House/Wilson, Hamilton/everyone from the Hamilsquad and/or Burr, Sheppard/McKay

Fave colors: grey, white, black

Bored most of the time so I'll either reblog, post hella random thoughts or just exist and piss of everyone

Love writing fanfic but I don't post. Angst fanfics are my type so if you want one with any other ships than my favs I suggest you tell me about your ship if you want a good one send to you through massages.

[michelleelizabethtanner]

🏷 Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

If I say I just filter to Explicit will that make you judge me? 😆

Ok, seriously though, the only tag I ever use to filter for is Beth/Rio or Good Girls. That’s it. It’s the only fandom I’m reading for right now and before this I haven’t read fics since LiveJournal. The last fandom was HouseMD and then I’d just search the Huddy tags. I get a little obsessive with my ships.

[thatwholethingwiththeduck]

"He gives Wilson ten days and on the eleventh he is sprawled out on Wilson’s bed naked. Obviously."