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slowburningechoes · 3 months ago

Text

office hours

Summary: After an unforgettable night, Wilson just can't seem to get his mind off you. It's a good thing you work at the same hospital, but it's too bad House is next door... right? (as promised @chardalton & @the-ultimate-obsessive-fangirl !!!)

Pairing: James Wilson (House, MD) x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: 18+ content (NSFW/NSFM) - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT / semi-secret relationship (only from House), inappropriate workplace behavior, semi-public sex, brief sexting, office sex, thigh riding, fingering, female ejaculation, secret lingerie, desk sex, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), breeding

Word Count: 5.4k

Inspired by: this post

Here is a link to ao3 if that is your preferred platform.

It was midday when Wilson’s text came through: Charting is killing me. I could use a break... preferably with you on my lap. My office. Now.

You glance at your phone as you wait by the nurse’s station for your next psych consult. The directness of his request makes your cheeks flush as you shift your phone from the threat of any prying eyes.

You move to lean against a wall (where you’re sure no one will see) and quickly type your response: You really know how to give orders, don’t you? Good thing I’m not feeling too disobedient today, I’m on my way.

When he calls your name to enter after you knock, you can tell from the strained tone in his voice he’s feeling impatient. As you let yourself into his office, it becomes even more apparent. Wilson’s hands are tapping across his desk and his facial features are even more defined from the tension in his jaw.

“Did you need a consult, Dr. Wilson?” you tease, tilting your head and batting your eyes.

There had been numerous “consults” between Wilson and you since started secretly seeing each other about three months ago and dating for the last month. House had only recently begun to get suspicious, but, of course, you’d already covered your bases, informing Cuddy and having a quiet chat with HR, just to stay ahead of things.

“Oh, hush,” he groans, his tone flirtatious but laden with desire. “Come here, darling.” Raising a finger and curling it, he beckons you over.

You obliged without hesitation, happily prancing over to meet him behind his desk.

As your message had said, you really weren’t in a disobedient mood today, though you did like to be bratty on most occasions. All day you’d been daydreaming about last night — how Wilson had devoured your pussy like a man starved before fucking you senseless in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom. Admittedly, you had been wet all day, pressing your legs together desperately, trying your best to focus on clinic duty… but the images always slipped in, corrupting your mind and making you throb with need.

“You’re being awfully cooperative today, aren’t you?” Wilson smirked, caressing his hands over your hips, which were level with his face as he sat in his office chair.

You nod eagerly, biting your lip in an attempt to conceal the depth of desire you’ve been holding onto all day.

“That’s so unlike you,” Wilson hummed, voice coaxing. “Have you been thinking about me, angel?”

He senses your restraint and places a soft kiss on the sensitive spot near the crease of your thigh, the one he knows drives you wild.

A sigh escaped you and your admission slipped out, breathless, “Yes… fuck, yes. It’s been driving me insane all day.”

“I thought so,” Wilson grinned at your confession before adding his own, hands roaming across your torso, but one moving to grip your ass firmly, pulling you closer.

“I’ve been thinking about you, too. Trying to do all this damn paperwork…,” a small grunt comes from his throat. “It’s so hard to concentrate when all I can think about is this.” His hand runs up the back of your thigh, bunching up your skirt, fingers sliding under the sides of your panties.

Your skin practically aches under his touch, desperate for any contact it can get. Breathlessly, you moan his name, “J-James…”

“I can’t stop remembering how beautiful you looked last night — my dick buried so deep in you… hair all messy, your mouth gaping open, crying for me…,” Wilson whispers with need, pulling you onto his lap in one fluid motion. You were straddling his thigh, your back flush against his chest, reminiscent of how you were positioned against him as he completely ruined you in front of the mirror last night. “I know it’s only been half a day, but I couldn’t wait anymore…I had to get my hands on my gorgeous girl.”

You rest your head back against his shoulder, the heat between you undeniable as you roll your hips down into his thigh, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his neck. “Then touch me, please,” you whisper, voice thick with need.

Wilson’s groan is low and strained as his hands slide underneath your skirt, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of your underwear. His touch is gentle, savoring every second of this tension between you. As he traces the intricate rose-patterned lace beneath his fingers, he stops suddenly.

“Oh?” His voice cracks slightly, full of surprise and lust, the weight of his discovery heavy in the air. “You’re wearing these… here?”

A rush of heat flooded through you, your body responding to the thrill of the secret you’d been carrying all day. You knew exactly what they would do to him when you chose them this morning. The sultry red lace, a cheeky cut pair of panties he nearly tore off you the first time you wore them.

Wilson's fingers begin to move once again, dancing across the meshed fabric before flattening against you

"You really walked around all day like this?" His voice is thick with disbelief and hunger as he lifts up the back of your skirt to reveal the trail of red trim that perfectly curves against your ass cheeks. Wilson muttered a few unintelligible words to himself before releasing a pained groan, “You sat across from me in this morning’s consultation, acted completely normal, while you had these on underneath? Knowing what they do to me?" His fingers press slightly harder against your still-clothed core, lace straining beneath his touch, applying enough pressure you can’t help but gasp.

You bite your lip, catching your breath before nodding earnestly. "I thought about telling you," you admit teasingly, rolling down into him again, your body aching for more friction. "But it was much more fun wondering if you knew."

He presses his thigh against the motion of your hips, almost as if he were answering your request. You feel his desire grow beneath you, making your throbbing need intensify. Wilson’s lips linger just below your ear, voice low and deep, “God, I should’ve known. You kept shifting in your seat, crossing your legs too tightly… I almost asked if something was wrong.”

You smirk, leaning into him until your neck meets his lips, “And if I had told you?”

He places a desperate kiss against your throat before lightly grazing it with his teeth, his hand finally sliding beneath the waistband of your panties. “I would’ve had you in here with the door locked before my first patient. I can’t believe you’ve been this wet for me all day.”

Wilson’s digits don’t hesitate to find your core, sliding between your folds and making small circles against your bundle of nerves. His touch electrifies your senses, sending shock waves through your body, hardening your nipples and making your clit pulsate, desperate for more contact. As his fingers dip between your labia, teasing your entrance, a pleasurable moan escapes your lips (louder, admittedly, than you had expected) in the heat of the moment.

“Shhhh,” Wilson warned, quickly bringing his free hand to clasp over your parted lips, muffling the sound of your moan. “You better stay quiet, doll,” he purred in your ear, the heat of his breath nearly distracting you from his fingers dipping into your heat, testing your restraint. “We wouldn’t want House hearing next door, now would we?”

You smirk underneath his touch, the threat of House discovering you both this way making you ache with need even more. But you can feel from the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly against your mouth, and his twitching bulge beneath you, that the thought excites him too.

“Naughty girl,” he hummed, his smirk evident in his voice as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His teeth scraped lightly over your pulse before he soothing the slight sting with his tongue. “You really get off on it, don’t you? Seeing just how much you can get away with before someone realizes just how bad you really are.”

A pitiful near-whine of “uh huh” is all you can manage as you buck your hips into his hand, his fingers now finding their rhythm pumping in and out of you. The pleasure was already overwhelming, but all you could think about was wanting more. More of his touch. More of that very unprofessional dirty talk flowing from his lips. More of whatever he had to give you.

Wilson obliged without the request even leaving your mind, curling his fingers inside you and mindlessly beginning to press his bulge harder against you, soft grunts falling from his lips The circular motion of his thumb against your clit made your entire lower half numb with warm pleasure, forcing you to bite down on your lower lip hard to stifle the urge to cry out like you had the night before.

"You sat across from me today, acted so damn composed, knowing full well what you had on underneath," Wilson continues, voice tense and thick with the last bit of his restraint. "Now, you’re on my lap making such a mess, hoping that House will hear on the other side of that wall — aren’t you?” His fingers are still curled inside of you, picking up their pace until you feel pressure grow in your abdomen.

Heat floods your face as Wilson makes clear he knows exactly what you were thinking about.“I - I like that he could hear,” you admit, voice trembling with arousal as your clit and inner thighs begin to flood with heat. As you continue, you are practically babbling, mind consumed with numbing pleasure. Wilson’s fingers had found your most sensitive spot, knocking it over and over with just the right amount of force in his fingertips. “K-knowing that he could hear everything — how badly I need you. How good you make me feel. Him knowing what you do to me, how dirty I am — fuck...”

Your tangent comes to a halt as you feel your orgasm crash into you, one that was more intense than any you had experienced before. The pressure that had built inside of you was heavy and nearly painful, but the relief that washed over you as you released on his fingers was mind numbing. You rode out your climax on his fingers with a recklessness that was unfamiliar to you, driven by a hedonistic bliss that was desperate and raw. The satisfaction you felt made your entire body feel like it was on fire and — for once in your life — your mind was completely blank, drunk on some kind of animalistic ecstasy.

“Jesus Christ,” Wilson groans, his large hands on each of your ass cheeks, pushing you up to the edge of his thigh. “You just squirted all over me. Damn, t-that’s so hot…” He stares at his now-soaked slacks and your swollen pussy with wide-eyed admiration.

His trance is broken when you gasp, your sore clit grazing his knee, sending a shock of pleasurable pain through your upper thighs. Responding tentatively with care, Wilson brings you back to rest flush against his chest, pressing multiple tender kisses to your flushed cheek. “You did such a good job, darling. You were perfect, as always.”

Every part of your body is sensitive as he caresses your body, fingers dancing up and down your torso causing bumps to rise along your skin.

“But I hope you don’t think we’re done here, angel,” Wilson whispers teasingly, still gently caressing his fingers through your hair. “You nearly made me cum in my pants… and now, I want House to hear just how pretty you sound taking my cock.”

You whimper in response as your body melts into his touch, every muscle softening as he moves you to bend over the edge of his desk. It’s as if you’ve forgotten how to hold yourself up, hot cheek pressed against the cool wood as he hikes your skirt up around your hips and spreads your legs open for him. He pulls your panties down your thighs with careless want, the lace scratching against your skin before the fabric catches at your knees.

Wilson groaned at the sight of you laid out before him, completely pliant under his hands. His fingers trailed down the curve of your spine, slow and deliberate, savoring the way you shivered at his touch.

“Look at you,” he hums, voice thick with hungry admiration. His thumbs press into your hips, holding you in place as he leans in, lips ghosting over your ear. “So sensitive… needy… gorgeous...”

Wilson’s fingers are flat against you again, coaxing your body to open until all you can do is surrender under his touch. Your breath hitches as you feel Wilson’s swollen tip line up with your entrance perfectly before gliding through your folds, causing your pussy to instinctually clench around nothing. There is a deep wanting ache inside of you that hated his teasing, but your body numb with pleasure, could find no reason to complain, reacting with small jumps every time he brushed against your clit.

As you process the pleasure you feel as he continues to slide his cock through your slickness, Wilson’s left hand comes down to grip your ass firmly. Before you can process his touch, he releases his hold, only to apply a stinging slap that motivates a breathy cry to escape your lips. You were shocked at first, he had never spanked you before — even when you were being bratty — but the sharp burning made you become even more wet and desperate for him to fill you.

Wilson’s fingers brushed the warm, flushed skin of your backside. “Guess you really weren’t in the mood to be disobedient today,” the tone of approval in his voice made your clit throb harder. “So good for me… letting me take control like this. Letting me do whatever I want.”

You try to form a response, your mind still hazy and body trembling, but the words escape you. All that comes out is a soft, shaky (and admittedly, pitiful) whimper. You can feel Wilson grin from behind you, his confidence thick in the already charged air.

“Normally, I love that bratty nature of yours,” he chuckles softly, lining himself back up with your entrance. “You’re always so sassy, testing me, ready with some biting comeback. But this…,” Wilson groaned, finally pressing his cock into you at (a still) painfully slow pace, “...seeing you speechless, so fucked out of your mind already… it’s doing something to me.”

As he bottomed out inside of you, you couldn’t help but moan, a sound coming out that was some attempt at his name. You had already come to know how wonderfully Wilson stretched you, but this heat from your first orgasm made you feel as if you were melting around him, perfectly molding against every vein ridge of his dick.

Wilson began to move, thrusting in and out of you with small breathy grunts accompanying each movement. His hands braced against your hips, fingers digging deep into your soft flesh. You could feel his gaze drinking you in, flickering between your pussy gripping him and the expression on your face — cheeks rosy, lips slightly parted, and eyes heavy-lidded, rolling back every time he sank into you.

For the first time in your slew of inappropriate work rendezvous, you didn’t (and truly, couldn’t) hold back the noises that escaped your lips, one cry coming out as some semblance of his name. Wilson’s tip hit against your cervix with the perfect amount of pressure, tapping it just firm enough that you nearly felt it in your stomach.

Your sounds made Wilson twitch inside of you, prompting him to pause briefly to keep himself from coming undone entirely.

With a low groan, he leaned forward, his chest flush against your back and his lips hovering beside your ear. “Think House is sitting in there, pretending he doesn’t hear how wrecked you sound?” Wilson whispered, an almost mocking tone in his voice. His words send a chill of pleasure down your spine, as his hand comes up to wrap around your throat, pulling you from the desk, your back flat against his heaving chest. He continues, words still against your ear,“Or do you think he’s listening… really listening — wondering what I’m doing to make you come apart like this?”

The thought makes you gasp, the sound echoing , His fingers pressed slightly harder against the sides of your throat as you did. You clench around him, responding in absent-minded pleasure. “J-James,” is all you can whimper.

The idea of House, himself, hearing wasn’t what turned you on — it was the delicious anticipation of him discovering that his careful sensitive friend had completely lost control. The idea of Wilson, usually so measured and cautious, now completely undone, taking you raw, right here on his desk in the middle of the day, was intoxicating. It wasn’t just the thrill of it; it was the satisfaction of knowing you were the one who’d made him forget himself, made him lose his usual restraint. The tension between his normally composed, loyal nature and the raw, reckless abandon he was giving you sent a rush of heat through your veins, knowing it was all because of you. He’d never imagined being so reckless, and yet, here you were, the cause of his unraveling once again.

Wilson’s thrusts were becoming increasingly more sloppy, rutting into you at an uneven and needy rhythm. “God — you look so damn gorgeous, Y/N… letting me have you like this in the middle of the day…” his voice was breathy, trembling just like his legs as he fought to hold onto his control. “Y-you’re perfect… shit — you feel so, so good, my little secret… I - I can’t…” You thought it was so cute — how he always started to ramble when he was close to cumming, every bit of sense escaping him.

A deep, shuddering moan came from his lips, hand dropping down from your throat, fingers digging into your hips, holding you against him like he never wanted to let go. Wilson’s cock delved deeper within you, so deep it was nearly painful as his hardening tip hit against your cervix with relentless fervor.

You whimper at the sound of his voice, the sensation of his touch consuming you. “James, baby…” You felt close to the edge again, a familiar knot building within the pit of your stomach. “I-I’m about to…”

Wilson cuts you off with agreement,“I know, angel… me too.” His voice is rough, strained as he presses a gentle, reassuring kiss to your neck. “Let go for me,” he murmurs, nearly pleading, lips ghosting over your ear, breaths hot and uneven. “Come on, sweetheart… let me feel you cum on my cock, please.”

The way he says it, the way he’s holding you so tightly but with so much care — it’s all too much. Your body seizes, that coiling heat in your stomach rushing down your shaking thighs. “F-fuck…” A sharp, broken cry spilled from your lips as pleasure crashed over you. You didn’t care who heard at that point - House, Cuddy, anyone. Wilson groaned in response, as if the sound alone was enough to undo him… and it practically did.

His movements stuttered as your walls clenched around him, only to find euphoric relief as you became so soft and open for him. He was following closely behind you, hips thrusting once more until a guttural, shuddering moan tearing from his throat and you felt him release inside of you. He buried his face against your shoulder, forehead beaded with sweat and his whole body weak as he let go, completely and utterly undone.

Neither of you moves for a long moment, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure. Your breath is still coming in shallow gasps as you cling to him, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat slowing against your back. You both rest, regaining some composure in your muscles before breaking apart from one another.

Wilson presses a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to the curve of your neck. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

“Then keep taking me, James,” You hum, leaning into his touch, your fingers finding their way through his soft and, now, thoroughly tousled hair. He continues to place kisses along your neck as you speak. “Keep taking me like this, over and over… take all of me, until you’re completely satisfied… until you’ve had every part of me.”

“Oh, I’ll take all of you, sweetheart,” he assured, voice still rich with lust. His hands roam over your body once more, possessive and gentle at the same time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his touch. “But I’m not going to let you forget how much you want me to… I’m going to take you until you’re lost in me. Until every part of you is completely mine.” His hands drift lower, his fingertips teasing as they glide across your skin, making your body hum with need. “And you’ll beg for it, every time, won’t you?”

“Mhm,” you reply, feeling the tension build inside of you once more. Just as you begin to beg him to spread you open again, reality creeped back in — the cool air against your heated skin, the quiet ticking of the clock, and the ever-present threat of someone walking in. A frustrated sigh escapes you as your fingers slid over his hand, which was cupping your breast, pressing it there for just a second longer before reluctantly stilling him. The disappointment of having to stop was palpable, a slow, burning ache lingering between you.

Wilson shifted behind you, groaning as he peeled himself away from your warmth. “We should… probably make ourselves look decent.”

You stifled a giggle, watching him blush at the realization of what had just transpired. “Mmm, you think?”

His lips quirk as he reaches for his crumpled dress shirt. “Unless you want House walking in and figuring out why my tie is missing and my pants are all soaked.”

You adjust your skirt back down over your thighs before blinking quickly, confused. “…Your tie is missing?” When did that happen?

Wilson paused, his brows furrowed, equally as perplexed. His eyes look around the room, groaning when he finds it draped over his desk lamp. “Fantastic.”

Smirking, you remove the fabric and thread it under his collar, hands lingering against his still-heaving chest. Though the tension never left, it was palpable again. Wilson’s heart was thumping so hard in his chest, you could feel it beneath your trembling fingers. His eyes, gentler and warmer now, were still filled with lust and need as they admired you make the first loop of the tie knot.

The pulse of desire within the air, however, was so rudely interrupted by the unmistakable rap of a cane against the doorframe. Your heart skips, the rush of heat between your legs suddenly replaced by a sharp jolt of anxiety.

Wilson’s face falls, hand lingering on the edge of your hip, trying to hold onto the moment before reality rushes back in. You can feel his body tense as a whispered huff escapes him. “Damn it…”

House’s voice filtered through, ladened with an undeniably smug amusement. “Wilson! Open up or I start taking bets on what exactly I just heard…” Two more sharp taps from his cane shook the door. “My money is on ‘reckless desk defilement’, but I’m sure that Cuddy might have more creative ideas.”

A look of exasperation was plastered across Wilson’s face, eyes already rolling in annoyance as he reluctantly removed his hands from your side. As he moved to grasp the knob, he groaned in defeat, turning it until the lock clicked in release.

House didn’t let a second pass, stepping just inside the doorway with his usual aura of casual arrogance. He leaned against his cane, gaze flickering across the scene, taking in Wilson’s still undone tie, your messy hair, typically neatly placed desk accessories along the floor, and the undeniable tension that still electrified the air.

“Well, well,” he began, his lips slowly twisting into a cocky grin, “it seems I should have taken those bets. Could’ve made quite a bit of cash.”

“House —,” Wilson started, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying his best to regather a sense of control.

“Oh, dont ‘House’ me,” came the sing-song reply, teasing thick in House’s voice. “I heard everything… but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You couldn’t deny that his acknowledgement of your recent activities made your core ache in some sick way. Your muscles stiffened, fingers wrapping tightly around the edge of the desk as you felt your cheeks burn. You were enjoying this more than you thought you would.

“Tsk, tsk, Wilson,” House drawled, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. “I expected better from you. Mid-day debauchery in your office? Highly unprofessional.” He smirked. “And here I thought you were all about romance.”

“House, please,” Wilson groaned, dragging a hand down his face, blocking his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not judging,” House interrupted, waving a hand to stop him from continuing. “If anything, I’m impressed.” His gaze slid to you, eyes glittering with mischief. “And you, didn’t take you for an exhibitionist, but judging by that glow…” he gave a slow nod of approval, “you enjoyed this.”

A slow heat crawled up your neck, but you refused to flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, feigning consideration as your cheeks grew flushed. “Maybe.”

House let out a sharp, delighted laugh. “Oh, I like her, Wilson. Try to keep this one?”

“Can we please just skip to why you’re here?” Wilson begged, voice crackly just slightly, painfully embarrassed that his best friend and girlfriend were having such an exchange.

House gave him a pointed look. “Oh, I actually do have a reason other than just confronting your kinky lunchtime rendezvous.” House leaned against his cane, grinning. “Cuddy’s looking for you. Says it’s urgent.”

Panicked questions fell from Wilson’s lips with urgency, “What? Why?”

House’s grin turned wolfish. “Could be about a case… hmmmm, could also be about the very audible display of workplace misconduct that echoed through the halls.” He rubbed his chin. “Really, it’s a toss-up.”

Your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh, “Fantastic.”

“Wilson,” House said, moving towards the door as he motioned to Wilson’s chest and leg with his cane. “You might want to check a mirror before you go. You still look…” His piercing blue eyes flicked toward you. “Ravished.”

Wilson shot him a murderous glare but didn’t argue, running a hand through his already-messy hair in a feeble attempt at damage control.

House clapped his hands together, proudly pressing them against his lips. “God, this just made my entire week.”

You rolled your eyes, smoothing your skirt. “Try not to enjoy this too much.”

“Oh, don’t worry… I am.” House said teasingly. “The best part is.. it’s our little secret now…”

Wilson’s face grew more red, hot with embarrassment and anger. But with that comment, House strolled out, casually whistling away as if he was innocent to anything that had just occurred.

Wilson exhaled slowly as he fell back into his office chair. “I am going to kill him.”

You grinned sheepishly, stepping closer to him “Later.” Your fingers brushed his collar before continuing to adjust his tie. “Right now, you should probably focus on looking less like a man who just fucked someone senseless.”

“You’re not making that very easy,” he insisted as your lips grazed the skin beside his collar, nibbling lightly on his earlobe.

“That’s too bad,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, “because I’m about to make it even worse.”

“Oh?” Wilson said, suspicion and interest laced in his voice.

You stepped back slightly, letting the moment stretch as he watched you with a mixture of curiosity and hunger, breath becoming uneven once again.

Slowly, your fingers skimmed along the hem of your skirt, deliberately teasing. Your lips curved into a wicked grin when you saw his gaze darken at the sight. His breath caught as you slid your hands beneath the fabric, fingertips ghosting over your still-sensitive skin. And then, with unhurried precision, you eased your underwear down your thighs. The deep red lace slipped past your knees, pooling at your ankles.

You stepped out of them with a playful step before gathering the delicate fabric between your fingers and holding them out toward him with a knowing smile.

“Thought you might need a little something to remember me by today,” you murmured, voice rich and teasing.

Wilson’s throat worked as he swallowed, his eyes dark and sharp as they broke from the gift and lifted back to meet yours. He took the lace from your fingers, the brush of skin against skin igniting another spark of anticipation between you. He didn’t say anything at first, rolling the thin material between his fingers before wrapping it in a fist. His expression is nearly unreadable as the silence lingers, jaw tense and lips pressed together tightly.

Then, in a voice low and rough, Wilson spoke, “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Noooo,” you insist sarcastically, smile deepening at his response. “Just trying to make sure you don’t forget me while you’re off being a responsible doctor.”

Wilson exhaled sharply, his free hand gripping the armrest of his chair firmly, visibly struggling to get himself under control. He tucked the lace into the pocket of his dress pants, fingers lingering there for just a moment, as if resisting the urge to bring them to his face, to savor the warmth and scent still lingering on the fabric.

“You do realize what this is going to do to me,” he muttered, warm eyes scanning across your body as you straightened your skirt back down your legs.

His breath hitched as you stepped in even closer, bringing yourself to rest against his still-damp thigh. “That’s the point,” you murmur, voice smooth and sinful. “You’re going to spend the entire day thinking about me. About how I feel when you touch me, about the way I sound when I come undone for you… about the fact that I’m walking around bare beneath my clothes, still full of your cum… and aching for more.”

Wilson groaned deeply, his hand grasping your hip as he attempted to still himself, exhaling hard.

“Jesus, Y/N… you know you’re making it impossible for me to function today, right?” he said, almost like a complaint — but there’s no real protest in his tone, just a quiet, tortured amusement.

Wilson curses under his breath, his hands flexing against his chair again, like he’s a second away from grabbing you again from locking the door and taking you out on the balcony this time. Instead, he tilts his head back slightly, closing his eyes for just a moment, trying to will his restraint back into place.

When he opens them again, his pupils are still blown, voice still rough. “You are so unfair.”

“I like keeping you on your toes.” You pressed a tender kiss to his cheek before moving to stand.

Wilson huffed a quiet, frustrated laugh, shaking his head as he glanced at the clock. “You better be waiting for me when I get home tonight,” he warns, straightening his tie.

“Oh, James,” you smiled confidently as you backed toward the door, his gaze following you with a barely concealed hunger. “I’ll be waiting… but I won’t be patient.”

You let your hand hover over the doorknob for just a moment, savoring the tension and truly, not wanting to leave him. With a slow turn of your head, you glanced at him over your shoulder. He was still in shock, sitting so stiffly, like he didn’t trust himself to move… or simply couldn’t.

You smirk, admiring the devastation you’ve left in your wake. “Oh, and James?” you purred, voice cloyingly soft. “Enjoy your meeting with Cuddy.”

Wilson made a strangled noise, somewhere between a groan and a curse, running a hand down his face. “You’re evil.”

You took a slow step towards the door, tracing your finger up your thigh, bunching up the cloth just enough to watch his eyes flick down to your legs, reminding him that there was nothing beneath it.

“Have fun,” your voice dripped with amusement as you finally turned the knob to go, winking playfully at him as you skipped into the hallway.

Wilson let out a long breath, so deep it sounded like he had been holding it the entire time. As you stepped out, just before the door clicked shut, you heard him mutter under his breath – half frustration, half admiration — “She’s going to be the death of me.”

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redicillin · 4 months ago

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Hiiii, could you write smth about reader (part of House's team) and Chase teasing and throwing suggestive comments each other all the time until something actually happens?Thanksss

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬. (𝐫.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞)

whilst your’s and chase’s relationship was… unconventional, you never crossed any true lines. until you did.

CW | 18+ MDNI. afab!reader, definitely not allowed workplace engagements, unprotected piv, porn with plot

fem!reader ☆ 4.3k ☆ masterlist.

The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead as you flip through the patient’s chart, skimming the details of yet another medical mystery.

A 37-year-old woman with an unexplained fever, muscle weakness, and—of course—negative test results for every common diagnosis. House’s kind of case. Your kind of case.

“Could be lupus,” Chase offers, leaning lazily against the back of his chair.

“It’s never lupus,” you counter automatically, not bothering to look up.

“One day, it will be,” he muses, smirking at you. “And when that happens, I’ll personally accept your apology… preferably over dinner,”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the hint of a smirk. “You assuming I’d take you to dinner if you were right is cute. Delusional, but cute,”

“Then I’ll settle for drinks. You can even pretend it’s a pity outing,”

House, who has been listening to your exchange with barely concealed amusement, finally interjects. “I’d tell you two to get a room, but I think you’d rather keep up this foreplay in front of an audience,”

Cameron coughs, Foreman scoffs, and Chase—completely unfazed—shrugs. “If we’re keeping score, I think I’m winning,”

You arch a brow at him, shifting in your seat. “Oh? And what exactly are you winning?”

“The game,” He leans in just slightly, voice dropping enough to sound almost conspiratorial. “You know… the one where you pretend you’re not enjoying this,”

Your pulse jumps for just a second before you scoff, shaking your head. “You wish,”

House claps his hands together, effectively cutting through the moment. “Much as I’d love to watch this unresolved sexual tension play out in real time, we have an actual patient. So unless this is leading to some kind of medically relevant insight, I’d suggest you both channel that energy into something useful,” He pauses, eyes flicking between you and Chase before smirking. “Or at least wait until after work to rip each other’s clothes off,”

Cameron looks deeply uncomfortable, Foreman mutters something about needing new colleagues, and Chase? Well, Chase just winks at you, smug as ever.

Game on.

—

The patient’s condition is getting worse, and House is nowhere to be found—probably off harassing Cuddy or playing mind games with Wilson. That leaves the rest of you huddled around the conference table, sorting through test results.

You tap a pen against your lips, eyes narrowed at the list in front of you. “Her liver enzymes are elevated, but no sign of hepatitis. Negative for Wilson’s disease, negative for autoimmune markers…”

“Could be a parasitic infection,” Cameron suggests, glancing up from her notes.

Chase leans back in his chair, tilting his head toward you. “Sounds messy. I hope you don’t mind getting your hands dirty,”

You shoot him a look. “That depends. Are you offering to be my assistant? Or just my parasite?”

Foreman groans, rubbing his temples. “Oh my God. Can you two just—?”

Cameron nudges his arm before he can finish. “Shh. I have twenty bucks on them cracking by the end of the week,”

You and Chase turn to her at the same time. “Excuse me?”

Cameron shrugs, feigning innocence. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just… kind of obvious,”

Foreman crosses his arms, smirking slightly. “I said a month, but now I’m reconsidering. You two can’t go five minutes without turning everything into an innuendo,”

“You’re imagining things,” you say smoothly, ignoring the way Chase’s knee just barely brushes against yours under the table.

“Yeah,” Chase adds, grinning. “I’d never use a serious medical discussion to flirt,”

You scoff. “Right. Because that would be wildly inappropriate,”

Cameron exchanges a knowing glance with Foreman. “Exactly,”

—

The hospital is quieter at night. The usual hum of activity dulls to an ambient murmur of overnight nurses and the occasional beeping monitor.

You’re in the diagnostics office, reviewing test results while Chase leans against House’s desk, absentmindedly tossing a stress ball in the air.

It’s just the two of you.

“This is the part where I should tell you to go home,” you say, not looking up from the file. “But I know you won’t listen,”

Chase catches the ball in one hand and smirks. “And miss out on the chance to keep you company? I’d never,”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “What a gentleman,”

He pushes off the desk and moves closer, just enough for you to feel the shift in proximity. “I can be, when it suits me,”

The air is different tonight. He’s always been flirtatious, always toeing the line, but this time, there’s something heavier in the silence that lingers between words.

You glance up at him, and for a moment, neither of you speak. It would be easy to close the gap. To push just a little further.

But you don’t.

Instead, you exhale, shaking your head as you look back down at the file. “You should really get some sleep, Chase.”

He lingers for just a second longer before letting out a soft chuckle. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stepping back. “You too,”

As he leaves the office, you find yourself staring at the door for longer than you should.

—

It’s been one of those shifts where the exhaustion settles deep into your bones, where you feel like you’ve been going nonstop for days, even though it’s only been a few hours.

Chase, ever the one to escape stress with some humor, suggests grabbing drinks. The others quickly agree, but you and Chase end up walking out of the hospital together, the others trailing behind.

You’ve worked together long enough to know the difference between casual group outings and just the two of you.

When you get to the bar, the atmosphere is warm, filled with the sound of low conversations and the clink of glasses. You order your drinks, the chatter flowing easily at first. It’s comfortable—like it always is when you’re with Chase—but tonight, there’s something different. The usual teasing that’s exchanged over the complexities of medicine starts to feel like something else.

“Well, you know, if you were paying attention, I did say we should run the ANA panel last time,” you tease, stirring your drink. You catch him watching you, his expression almost smug, but you don’t break eye contact.

“Oh, I heard you,” he replies, his voice low, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I just didn’t think you were right,”

You tilt your head with a scoff, narrowing your eyes. “But now you do?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” he replies, taking a step closer. “But I think you like the challenge of proving me wrong,”

You lean back in your chair, trying to act unaffected, but your heart races. The space between you has closed in ways you hadn’t expected. “Not everything’s a challenge, Chase,”

He grins, his voice dropping a little further. “Sure about that? Because if you think I can’t keep up with you, I’m happy to prove you wrong,”

It’s playful. It’s always playful, right?

But tonight, there’s an edge to it. A tension that neither of you have addressed, but both of you are clearly aware of.

The way his eyes follow your movements. The way his smile lingers just a second too long on your lips. You feel the weight of his words like a challenge you don’t want to back down from.

It’s subtle, but it’s there—an almost imperceptible shift. You feel it when his hand brushes against yours on the bar. He doesn’t pull away immediately, and neither do you. For a heartbeat, everything around you fades, leaving only the space between the two of you.

It would be easy. So easy.

You could lean in, and he could kiss you, and you wouldn’t need to say a word. You could blame it on the alcohol, or the exhaustion, or just the chemistry that’s been crackling between you for weeks now.

But then, just as quickly as it started, you both pull back.

You laugh—maybe a little too loud, trying to cover up the moment that nearly shattered the wall you’ve both built around yourselves. “You’re an idiot,” you say, a little breathless, fingers tapping nervously on the edge of your glass.

Chase smirks, but there’s something softer in his expression now. “Yeah, well, it’s a good thing you like idiots.”

He leans back, turning his attention to his drink, and the playful banter resumes—but it’s different. There’s an edge to it now, an undercurrent of something else simmering beneath the surface.

Neither of you acknowledges it directly. Instead, you both talk about the case again, acting like nothing has changed. But you both know. Neither of you is fooled.

For the first time, the game isn’t just a game anymore. And it’s only a matter of time before one of you breaks.

—

The next day is a blur of frantic phone calls, lab reports, and running from one department to the next. The case has taken a turn for the worse, and the pressure is palpable.

Everyone is on edge, moving faster than usual, but the answers still aren’t coming. You and Chase work side by side, your minds racing with the mounting frustration.

The stress is starting to take its toll.

You’re reviewing the latest test results when Chase steps closer, his eyes scanning the board. “We’re missing something. There’s got to be a piece we’re overlooking,”

You feel his breath just a little too close, your heartbeat quickening. “Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “If I knew what that piece was, I’d have figured it out by now,”

“Don’t snap at me,” he says, voice quiet but teasing. “I’m on your side here,”

You glance at him, frustration flashing in your eyes. “You think I don’t know that?”

The tension between you is thick, heavier than it’s been before, each word a spark in the charged air. The room feels too small, too close, the adrenaline turning everything you say and do into something else—something that doesn’t belong in a hospital.

Chase takes a step back, but the distance doesn’t help. He’s still close enough to make your skin feel tight, still close enough for you to hear the quiet beat of his pulse beneath the surface.

“Sorry,” You sigh, exasperatedly taking your hands through your hair. “I’m just stressed,”

There’s a pause, a breath held in the space between you. Then, without a word, he steps forward, his hand finding your arm.

“You need a break,” he says, his voice low and urgent.

You swallow hard, feeling your breath catch in your throat. “I don’t need a break. I need answers,”

But the words feel hollow even as you say them. You don’t need answers. Not right now.

Before you can think, before you can even process what’s happening, Chase pulls you gently but firmly down the hallway, into a small, empty supply closet.

It’s a tight fit—your back pressed against the cold wall, his body just a breath away. The air in the small room is thick with the same kind of tension that’s been building between you for weeks, but now, it’s palpable. You can feel it in your skin, in the way your breath comes faster than it should.

You give a small laugh. “This isn’t the break room,”

And then, just like that, the moment snaps.

Chase closes the space between you, his lips crashing into yours. It’s not the slow, teasing kiss you expected—it’s urgent, hungry, desperate. All the months of flirtation, the innuendos, the playful jabs, finally culminating in this.

His hands slide to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can’t help but respond, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepens, and the world outside the closet fades away. There’s only the rush of adrenaline in your veins, the heat of his touch, the way your bodies move in sync, as though they’ve always known this was coming.

His hands slide down your back, pressing you even closer, and for a moment, you forget about the case, forget about everything but this. His lips trail down to your neck, and you let out a soft gasp, heart pounding in your chest.

“Are we really doing this right now?” you breathe, barely able to form the words as your breath hitches in your throat.

Chase pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression intense, searching. “Do you want to?” he asks, voice low, a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

Your mind races, the heat of the moment clouding your thoughts. But you don’t hesitate.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word barely escaping your lips before you pull him back to you.

The kiss picks up again, but this time, it’s more than just passion. There’s an urgency to it—something unspoken that has been building for far too long.

His hands roam, slipping beneath your shirt, and you don’t stop him. Every touch feels electric, igniting something deep inside you. The adrenaline from the case, the rush of being so close, the need to feel something more than just the constant stress of the hospital… it all comes together in that moment.

You don’t think about the consequences. You don’t think about anything except the way he makes you feel.

But even in the haze of desire, the question lingers. What happens after? What happens when the game is over?

Right now, though, you don’t care. All that matters is the way his lips feel against your skin, the way his hands fit perfectly against you. It’s everything and nothing at once.

And for the first time, you don’t pull away.

Chase is driven insane by the smallest things. The way your fingers curled into his belt-loops to tug him closer. The feel of your nails, scraping over his scalp as your hand slides through his hair. The way you breathe his name as he dips his head, mouthing at the hollow of your throat.

Too much. He thinks, as one hand comes up to curl around your wrist, pinning your hand against the door of the closet. Too much but still not enough.

He’s lost the ability for rational thought. It’s been pushed aside for need, for desire. Your name’s a constant on his lips, a hushed whisper as he presses kisses onto your neck. Teeth skimming over your skin, tongue soothing the light sting.

He finally draws back to meet your gaze. His expression is dark, pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed so pretty. “I want you.” He says it as an absolute truth. As if you don’t already know that by the way his knee is slotted between your thighs.

He watches you. The way your lips part on a breath, an almost involuntary sound falling from them as he draws his knee up. “God, look at you,” He murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, “So pretty already and I’ve barely even touched you,”

His hand slides up the inside of your thigh, his touch almost reverent. The tip of his nose grazes your ear as his fingers dip under the edge of your pants. “Want you. So, so goddamn badly.”

And in contrast to the sweet way he speaks to you, the way he’s touching you is downright dirty. It sets the pit of your stomach on fire as his hand dips lower, cupping you through your panties and giving a slow, testing drag of his palm.

It’s a low, breathy moan that escapes you, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment and your head thumping lightly against the door. “God-“ he groans, “I’m not going to last.” He hooks a finger around the waistband of your pants and tugs them down just enough for him to get a better purchase on you.

He doesn’t even tease. His hand immediately slips under the soft, black cotton of your underwear, his fingers dipping into you in a fluid motion. “God you’re so hot—“ He asks, his breath hot against your ear. “All this for me?”

Your answer comes in the form of a stifled gasp, your hips moving of their own accord to meet his hand. “Chase.” It’s the only word you manage, and it’s half formed, coming out on a whimper. Like you’re pleading.

It’s that sound and your pleading tone that does him in. His breath shudders out of him in a low sound of want. “You’re killing me.” He mutters, his words punctuated by the sound of his belt unbuckling.

He’s impatient, and it’s evident in the way his hand pushes at the fabric of your underwear. There’s nothing romantic about it, no sweet murmurs of sweet nothings or gentle coaxing. It’s needy and desperate and it’s you and that’s all that matters.

He keeps one hand planted on the wood of the door, keeping you pinned in place. The other dips, and the feel of his fingers is immediately replaced by the head of his cock, already leaking as it stretches out your entrance.

A low curse is muttered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

He moves with purpose, his hips rolling forwards and pushing his length into you in a single steady motion. Chase gives a quiet grunt, his breath coming in shuddering gasps.

The whole thing feels like it’s happening so fast. Too fast. Neither of you are thinking clearly. But it’s you and it’s him and his face is still buried in the crook of your neck and his cock stretches you out so good that it leaves you whining.

His hand drops from the door, shifting to grip one of your thighs and hitch it over his hip. It gives him a different angle, one that he takes full advantage of.

He picks up the pace, and the hand that he’s gripping your thigh with gives it a firm squeeze. “I’ve thought about this.” He whispers, the words almost lost against your skin, “Can’t get you out of my head.”

He’s babbling now, his words low and punctuated by heavy breaths. And you’re so pretty like this, your eyes squeezed shut and your back arched against the door as he takes and takes and takes.

He can’t remember the last time he came so quickly. All it takes is a sound from you, a breathy sigh of his name and he’s done. He lets himself lose control, giving a loud curse as his hips stutter in their motion, desperately trying to pull out despite the instinct to bury his spend inside you.

Instead, it dribbles down the inside of your thighs, coating your skin and your underwear alike.

The moments after are filled with a tense, lingering quiet. Neither of you speaks immediately, neither of you moves to pull away. Your heart is still racing, your mind spinning with everything that just happened.

Chase stands there for a moment, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you catching your breath. But neither of you says anything.

It’s like a flicker, an electric pulse, that connects you both, and then just as quickly as it began, it feels like a weight pressing down. The weight of what just happened, of the unspoken words, of the fact that everything has changed.

“Chase…” You break the silence, your voice a whisper, uncertain. You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, but the question sits heavy on the tip of your tongue. What now?

He steps back slowly, his hands resting at his sides. He doesn’t look at you directly, his jaw tight. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have…”

But the words trail off, unsaid. He doesn’t finish the sentence, and neither do you.

A moment passes, and the world starts to feel like it’s slowly realigning around you both. The air no longer feels suffocating, but it’s thick with the weight of everything you didn’t say. Neither of you makes a move to break the silence. Finally, Chase gives a sharp exhale. “We should get back to work.”

You nod, a little too quickly, still lost in the aftershock. Your fingers graze your lips, still tingling from the kiss and everything after, but you don’t let yourself linger on it. There’s nothing to say.

Not yet.

—

The next day, you and Chase are back in the diagnostic office like nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. The air between you is a little too thick, a little too aware of the space you now share. Every word feels heavier, more loaded. And whenever your eyes meet, it’s like there’s something you both are trying not to acknowledge.

But neither of you says a word.

It’s House, of course, who does notice. He’s always observant, always sharp when it comes to his team’s dynamics. He watches the two of you from across the room with a knowing smirk, almost as if he’s been waiting for this.

“Is it just me,” House drawls, breaking the silence as he slides into the office, “or does it feel like someone’s been… busy?”

You freeze, and you can feel Chase tense next to you. You don’t want to look at him, not with House’s smirk aimed squarely at both of you. You can’t look at him.

“You two should get a room,” House continues, unbothered by the tension hanging in the air. “It’s honestly like a live soap opera around here,”

Cameron, overhearing from the other room, raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on now?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, barely able to keep your cool. “Nothing happened,”

But House just fakes a sigh, fishing out his wallet and holding out a twenty dollar bill in Cameron’s direction. “I guess I owe you twenty bucks,”

You can hear the amusement in his voice as he takes a seat at his desk, eyes gleaming with too much satisfaction. He’s not going to let this go. Not for a second.

“You guys slept together?” Cameron’s voice is a mix between amusement and mortification as she takes the cash, and you groan.

Chase clears his throat and straightens up, trying to salvage some sense of normalcy. “It’s nothing to write home about,”

“Oh but it is,” House says with an exaggerated smirk, leaning back in his chair. “Talk about a HR violation,”

—

The next few days pass in a blur of awkward silences, quick glances, and sidelong looks between you and Chase. Neither of you brings up the supply closet, not once. Instead, you focus on the case, on everything but what happened behind closed doors.

The chemistry between you both is still there, still undeniable, but now it’s wrapped in layers of unspoken words. It’s the elephant in the room you both avoid acknowledging.

And yet, as you work together—closer than ever before, eyes meeting more often than they should, the energy still humming between you—you both know something has shifted. You’re not sure what it is yet.

At one point, when House pushes you to continue working late on a particularly difficult diagnosis, you end up alone with Chase again. The tension between you both feels just as charged as it did that night in the supply closet, but now, it’s thicker. More complex.

Chase stands next to you, looking down at the patient’s chart, but you can feel his gaze flicking toward you, gauging your reaction. His voice is quieter this time, as though testing the waters. “So…”

“So,” you reply, keeping your voice steady, but there’s a nervous edge beneath it.

He sighs, clearly sensing the unease between you. “What do you think? Is this it then?”

You hesitate, the words sitting heavily in your chest. This is the question. What happens now? What happens when the game is over?

You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the flutter of uncertainty in your stomach. “I don’t think it’s just a game anymore, Chase,”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the silence stretches between you both. He doesn’t say anything immediately, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—a mix of hope, uncertainty, and that ever-present challenge.

And in that moment, you realise: neither of you has to have the answer right now.

“You’re right,” he says softly, his lips curling into a smile. “Maybe it’s not,”

And so, the game continues—only now, it’s not a game at all. It’s something else entirely, something neither of you is ready to define yet.

But that’s okay.

#house md #robert chase #robert chase x reader #house md x reader #robert chase smut

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vigilante-3073 · 1 year ago

Text

Blue Or Pink?

James Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: House makes some observations about Doctor Y/N L/N. He is absolutely certain that she is pregnant with Wilson's child, but something seems amiss.

TW: Pregnancy, mentions of weight gain/breast size/nausea and vomiting/miscarriage, medical diagnosis.

House stood outside the Pediatric unit, watching Doctor L/N-Wilson through the window as she spoke with the parents of a patient. She had been married to Wilson for almost two years and things had been stable.

Normal.

Predictable.

But House began to notice small changes in Doctor L/N-Wilson. At first they seemed insignificant, but then the little nothings turned into big somethings.

First it was the tiredness, she'd whine about being exhausted before resting her head on Wilson's shoulder in the cafeteria. It was nothing special, just an overworked Pediatrician who gave everything to her patients.

Secondly, House noticed a change in how she responded to smells. She refused to kiss Wilson after he drank his morning coffee, the smell making her stomach churn. It could have been an anomaly, but then he changed his cologne. Wilson liked his cologne and had used the same one for as long as House had known him. A new cologne could have been gifted to him, but Wilson wouldn't have used a different scent without some other motivation. It seemed obvious to House that L/N's smell-associated nausea had caused the switch.

Thirdly, it was how emotional she had become. L/N had always been an emotional lightweight with a heart of gold, but House could see a difference in her. She didn't seek out comfort from Wilson on a routine basis, only when she had lost someone or experienced an emotionally taxing case. Then he noticed her coming and going from his best friend's office with red, watery eyes at least once a week. Her heightened emotional state could be due to the loss of some boring little rugrat who drew her a picture of a butterfly once, but it seemed more intense than that.

Fourth thing he noticed was the vomiting, she was very discreet about sneaking away to upchuk in the hospital bathroom, but not discreet enough to escape his watchful eye. She was constantly chewing mint gum or sucking on breath mints while carrying a toothbrush in the pocket of her lab coat.

Fifth thing was an increase in cup size and a sudden progressive weight gain. It wasn't anything excessive, but it was enough to have her clothing fit more snugly before she gave up and bought new clothes.

Sixth was the appointment. Wilson and L/N snuck away to an "early lunch" after talking to Cuddy. They were both Department heads and didn't need to speak to the Dean of Medicine before stepping out for an hour.

The anomalies were piling up into a rather perfect list of symptoms.

Chase made his way over to House, frowning as he stared through the glass, "What are you looking at?" Chase asked.

"Doctor L/N-Wilson," House stated.

His eyes followed her as she separated from the parents, walking over to the nursing station.

"Why?" Chase asked uncertainly.

"She has a parasite," House said, Chase's head snapped in his boss' direction.

"What? How do you know?" Chase questioned, turning to look at her again.

"I just know. It would take too long to explain," House said, turning and walking off.

...

Wilson and L/N sat on the couch in their apartment, her back was leaned against his side and her legs were stretched out across the couch cushions. Wilson's arm was wrapped around her as he flipped through the channels on the television. L/N stared down at her book, turning the page before closing her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"You alright?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Tired," She sighed.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Wilson questioned.

"No, I'll be okay. I like spending time with you," L/N said, eyes fluttering open.

Wilson smiled, pressing a kiss to her head as she returned to her book. He turned his head towards the television before someone knocked at the door.

L/N sat up, setting her book down on the cushion beside her.

"I'll get it," Wilson said, setting the remote down and making his way over to the door.

He opened the door, sighing when he saw House standing on his doorstep.

"Your wife has a parasite," House stated.

"Thank you so much for letting us know. We'll have her admitted for treatment in the morning," Wilson said sarcastically, "Goodnight, House," Wilson stated, moving to close the door.

House stuck his foot in the doorway, blocking the door from closing before pushing his way into their apartment.

"House, what are you doing here?" L/N asked.

"You have a parasite, Doctor L/N-Wilson," He said.

"No, I don't. Go home, House," She said, standing up from the couch and moving to step past him.

"It has arms and legs. It looks adorable in a onesie. Chromosomes of XX or XY with eyes like mommy and glorious hair like daddy. Lucky bugger will even get two Christmases when you two separate," House said.

"We're not separating," Wilson snapped.

"That's besides the point," House said, returning his attention to L/N, "Oh, and I stumbled across this," House said, holding up a document displaying a positive pregnancy blood test result.

"How did you-" She started, snatching the paper from his hand, "Did you break into my office? And my desk?" L/N questioned incredulously.

"I should be saying mazel tov. Congratulations on the little rugrat," House said.

L/N smacked him in the arm, "You're an ass," She snapped, folding up the paper.

"I thought you'd be screaming it from the rooftops," House said.

"Forgive me for being cautious," She huffed, sitting back down on the couch.

"You're almost four months along. Way past the danger zone for early miscarriage," House stated, eyes flickering over her.

House looked up at Wilson, he shook his head, silently pleading with his friend not to continue.

"You've lost a pregnancy before," House said.

"House-" "Three," L/N replied, looking up at him.

"House, get out," Wilson said.

"He was going to find out at some point, James. I'm surprised he didn't steal my medical records already," L/N said.

"Another hospital, too much work," House shrugged.

"Can you grab a copy of the sonogram?" She asked, Wilson nodded, making his way down the hallway before returning with a photograph.

He held it out to House, he took the photo and stared down at it, "The fetus has your nose," House said, "Mind if I keep this?" He asked.

"Sure," L/N nodded, leaning back against the couch.

"Why do you- You know what? Nevermind," Wilson sighed, sitting down beside L/N and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I'll see myself out. Congratulations on the kid," House said, making his way over to the door and out of their apartment.

...

House sat at his desk, staring down at the sonogram as his team discussed their most recent case. House tilted his head, thumb brushing over a darkened area on the scan.

"House?" Cameron questioned loudly.

He looked up to find Chase, Cameron and Foreman staring at him expectantly. House turned the sonogram photo and held it up for the team to see, "New case. Tell me what's wrong with this picture," He said.

Cameron huffed, "We need to solve our first case before moving on to something else. We should do a transesophageal echo to rule out a blood clot and to-" "Sure, but first, tell me what's wrong with this picture," House repeated.

Chase squinted, leaning in closer to view the sonogram, "Looks fine to me. Roughly four months along, I'd say," Chase shrugged, straightening back up.

"Wrong, thanks for playing. You two," House said, looking up at Foreman and Cameron.

Cameron shook her head before letting out a defeated sigh, she leaned in and scanned the sonogram silently.

"The fetus is undersized for gestational age. Can we go now?" Foreman asked.

"Nope. Try again," House said.

"There's a mass," Cameron said softly, taking the sonogram from House's hand.

"Yeah, it's called a baby," Chase muttered.

"No, there's a membrane around it," She said, stepping over to the x-ray view box and holding it up to the light.

House stood from his chair, staring at the sonogram over her shoulder. He took the photograph from her hand, "Do the echo," House said, grabbing his cane and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Cameron asked.

"To locate a pregnant woman," House stated.

...

L/N made her way across the lobby towards the clinic, "Y/N," Wilson called. She turned to face him, "Did House page you?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah, did he page you too?" L/N questioned.

"This can't be anything good," Wilson muttered, hand resting on the small of her back as they entered the clinic.

They made their way over to the exam room House had paged them to.

L/N knocked before opening the door, she and her husband stepped into the exam room, "What do you need, House?" L/N asked.

"You. Hop up on the table," House instructed, pulling over the portable ultrasound machine.

"House, she already has an obstetrician," Wilson said.

"Well, your obstetrician is an idiot," House said, turning on the ultrasound machine.

"I'm going back to work," L/N sighed, stepping over to the door.

"I saw something in your sonogram," House stated.

L/N hesitated, "What was it?" She asked.

"I have an idea, but I need to get a look at the thing," House said, gesturing to the exam table.

L/N looked over at Wilson before reluctantly getting up on the table and laying back. Wilson moved over to her side as she pulled up her blouse.

House squeezed some gel onto her belly before moving the wand across her skin. The soft thump of their baby's heartbeat filled the room as House stared up at the screen.

"Your baby has a roommate... Sneaky little sucker that leaves its dishes in the sink and trashes the place so they lose the security deposit," House said, typing on the keyboard.

"What is it?" Wilson asked, holding onto her hand tightly.

House turned the screen towards them, "A cyst," He said.

"It's solid," Wilson said softly, stomach dropping as he saw the possibly cancerous mass growing in his wife's belly. The oncologist within him already formulating treatment plans and survival rates.

"Sometimes. This week it's solid, two weeks ago it was liquid," House said, holding up the previous sonogram.

"I have cancer?" L/N mumbled shakily, eyes glossing over with tears as she looked up at Wilson.

"Nope, think hairy with a nasty bite," House said.

"A dermoid cyst?" L/N questioned.

"Bingo," House said, "Your baby is small for gestational age, but your fundal height is bang on. Someone else is taking up space," House said.

"Your miscarriages hid the symptoms and the cyst is likely to create more problems as it continues to grow. I scheduled you for a laproscopic removal tomorrow evening and notified your idiotic OB," House continued, putting down the ultrasound wand.

He held up a tissue, allowing L/N to wipe the gel from her stomach. She pulled down her blouse and sat up on the exam table.

"I still want to test your blood for cancer markers, but the chances of a dermoid cyst being cancerous are slim to none," House said, standing from his stool and gathering supplies.

"Your hubby can do all the testing," House said.

He tied the tourniquet around her arm and drew a few vials of blood to test. Wilson stood close to her side, his hand resting against her back reassuringly as they processed the information.

"Did the cyst cause my miscarriages?" She asked softly.

House shrugged, "Probably... The ugly thing is taking up all the beachfront property and keeping it from possible long-term residents. Bad for business, especially if business involves pregnancy," House said.

L/N huffed a laugh, leaning into Wilson's chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. Wilson pressed a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping his arm around her waist securely.

"The baby is going to be okay," Wilson assured, L/N nodded.

"I'll leave you two to do whatever married people do," House said, grabbing the vials of blood and his cane.

"House, wait," L/N said, pulling away from Wilson. She hopped off the table and stepped over to House.

He stiffened as she hugged him before slowly wrapping his arms around her, "Thank you," She said softly.

"You're welcome," House replied.

#gregory house #gregory house x reader #james wilson x you #james wilson x reader #james wilson imagine #james wilson #house md imagine #house imagine #house md #james wilson x female reader

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i-like-what-this-says-about-you · 10 months ago

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every episode of house md part 3

high school teacher: alright class settle down, it is time for chemistry!

the students moan

random student #1: please mr roberts can we just use this period to do homework

mr roberts: no, chemistry is important, you see-

mr roberts starts choking

random student #2: oh my god! someone get him some water!

mr roberts stops choking

mr roberts: sorry about that folks, moving on-

mr roberts falls to the ground, unconscious

*** house and wilson are walking together

house: wilson, my guy, you are wearing a nice tie. you must be cheating on your wife

wilson: you’re just trying to find a way to compliment my tie without seeming nice. so, thank you. anyway, i have this case. high school chemistry teacher keeps randomly choking on nothing.

house: so? he has anderson’s choking disease

wilson: no, it doesn’t only occur when he’s sleeping. not anderson’s.

there is a brief moment of homoerotically staring and grinning at each other

house: ok, i’ll take it.

he grabs the file

***

house: ok people, new case. man can’t stop choking!

cameron: hmmm… can’t be andersons…

foreman: could it be cancer in his throat?

house: that only shows up for a minute or two every few days?

chase: longmedicalnameadocis!

house: good thinking, test for that, in the mean time start him on fancydrugname.

*** in the clinic

house sighs, pops a few vicodin, and enters a clinic room

clinic patient: my knees hurt.

house takes a good hard look at the patient. he’s ancient. every inch of him is wrinkled. his head has only a few surviving white hairs. next to him is who house assumes is his daughter.

house (sarcastically): hhhmmm… now this is a hard one.

daughter: please take him seriously! just a week ago it seemed like he was way younger! he had barely any wrinkles, he was running 4 miles a day- he was healthy and fit! something’s up!

the patient coughs and begins to struggle to breathe. he takes out an inhaler.

daughter: a week ago he didn’t need an inhaler. now he’s using it multiple times a day!

house (not sarcastically this time): interesting… i want to run a few tests.

*** in the office

foreman: fancydrugname made him worse.

house: chase you idiot you were way wrong.

chase: 😣😣🥺🥺

house writes the new symptoms on the board

foreman: i think it’s neurological.

house: okay, what neurological disorder could cause this?

foreman thinks in contemplation

cameron: insertanotherlongmedicalnamehere?

chase: there’s no treatment for that.

house: wrong. we can do surgery

foreman: surgery?

house: take out part of his brain

*** cuddy’s office

cuddy (angry): NO! you cannot cut into this man’s brain with no proof! it’s a rare condition, most people with it die and this treatment has never been used for the condition before!

house: i have proof.

cuddy: oh really?

house: yes. i think it will work and i’m always right.

cuddy shakes her head

cuddy: no.

*** in the clinic, same patient as before

daughter: please tell me you know what’s wrong with him.

the patient has a bag of almonds in his hand. he is shoveling handfuls of them into his mouth

house: jeez, that’s a lot of almonds- **epiphany moment** house: i have to go!!

daughter: what? what about my dad!!!

house (from out the clinic room): get him to stop eating all those damn almonds!!

*** mr roberts’ room

house: have you been exposed to large amounts of almonds recently?

mr roberts: yes, my son just started working at an almond factory.

house: aha! my proof!

house leaves, leaving mr roberts confused and in distress

*** mr roberts gets the surgery and is cured

once again, wilson and house are walking together. wilson is eating almonds

wilson: want one?

#well this got long #gregory house #house md #hatecrimes md #hate crimes md #hilson #dr house #james wilson #greg house #lisa cuddy #robert chase #eric foreman #allison cameron

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di-writes-stuff · 11 months ago

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loml

Greg House x Reader

A/N: So, I haven’t written anything in months. Whoopsies! (I have no excuse, I just didn’t want to.)

TW: It’s House. There’s your trigger warning. (Drugs.)

“Who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames, if we know the steps anyway?”

This is a mistake.

That’s the only thought that runs through your head as you sit in the sterile examination room, the chair under you hard and entirely uncomfortable. It’s fitting, nothing about this will be pleasant, you knew it going in.

And yet you still did. You walked into this damn hospital, snuck around like some criminal, praying that you wouldn’t run into him before the time was right. If it ever is, it never really has been with you two. Maybe it never will be, maybe the world is trying to tell you something you’re just too stubborn to hear. How many times can you keep going back to the same broken thing?

Apparently you haven’t hit your limit yet, considering where you are.

It’s like every nerve in your body spurs to life as the door slides open and he walks in. Him, House. His eyes are glued to the chart in his hand, not really bothering to look at you. He’d treat his patients through the door if he could.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks in a way that’s so typically him you almost roll your eyes. Abrasive, cold, these should be red flags. They are, you just don’t care.

Maybe he had a point with all the masochist jokes.

You quickly refocus, clearing your throat and waiting. For what, you’re not sure. Obviously he’ll look up, recognize you as, well, you. His ex, but that’s not even close to covering whatever twisted role it is you serve in his life. On and off for…how long? Years, you know that. Two, at least, maybe more. There’s always something wrong, something ruining your chances. The drugs, the painfully obvious emotional unavailability. The same one you ignored the existence of when you decided to come here.

Then there’s you. The constant desire you have for more. More devotion, more love, more than he’s willing to give.

Or more than he can, you refuse to explore that option.

You’re fucked, simply. There’s no possible way that you two work. It’s too much conflict, more than a mouthful of pills or some hate sex can solve.

His eyes flick up and widen as he freezes. Speechless. In another circumstance you’d be proud of this. It’s an achievement after all, he never does know when to shut his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting you, not for a second. Maybe he should’ve. You’ve always been stubborn, a trait you both share. It made for some agonizingly long arguments, and some wildly good make up.

That’s the issue with you two. You are eachother. It’s why you’re so chaotic together. It’s also why you can’t be with anybody else.

“Hey.” You say weakly, and the word feels stupid as it comes out of your mouth. You’re long past pleasantries, which is exactly why you receive silence in return.

You knew he’d be like this.

You feel your face heating in humiliation anyway. At the very least, you won’t cry, you won’t let yourself.

The stinging sensation in your nose is persistent as ever.

He slowly crosses the room, sitting down in the chair next to you, a small creaking noise filling the otherwise empty silence. A thick swallow from you, the awkward drumming of fingers from him. This is painful, and for a second you hope his pager will go off. He’d bolt with an excuse, you know he would. And because you’re the same, you would too. And then you’d be back, in a week, maybe a month, and it’d be even worse.

You’ve always had a knack for self-destruction.

You both know how it ended last time. All over a stupid bet. Cuddy thought he couldn’t make it a week without Vicodin, he thought he could. Back when he was still adamant about denying his addiction. Halfway through it might as well have been torture. Deep into detoxing, and still, he wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t listen as you begged him to stop being so childish, so stubborn. He wouldn’t even let you come near him, let alone help. He said it’s cause he didn’t need your pity.

In reality, he just didn’t want you to see him like that. Nobody would. Every inch of his pale, shaking frame was covered in sweat, bags under his eyes and a bloodshot gaze had him looking damn near dead.

He was sick, and he hated having to face it more than anything. The Greg House being forced to admit he was wrong. Sometimes you wondered if he’d rather die than say it out loud.

Neither of you handled it well, you never do. He was too stupid to see the obvious, see that he needed help. Needed you. And you, you were too sensitive to let it go. Let him go. Give up on any hope that this could go anywhere.

You still are, and you feel it keenly as the two of you sit in silence. His eyes are trained on you, and if you didn’t know him any better, you’d think the look in his eyes was judgement. But no, it’s a myriad. Confusion, anger, guilt, longing. All things he’d never admit. That’d be far too human.

“Say something.” Your voice comes out pleading, a tone you loathe on yourself.

He turns to you, his eyes tracing over your every feature like he can’t decide which one to settle on. How many times has he seen you like this? Desperate, vulnerable, because of him. He loses count. He wants to forget it, but you have to go through the motions. Pretend you’ve worked through your issues so you can live in a momentary state of bliss. Maybe it’ll last a few months this time. Could be less, if he really screws it up.

He’ll take what he can get.

“What do you want me to say?” The words come out harsh, cold, and for a moment he expects you to turn away. You don’t. Of course you don’t.

You sigh heavily, you expected it, the ice you’d be met with. You know him intrinsically, predicting his moves like the plot twists of a movie you’ve watched one too many times.

“Something, anything.” This is sad, pathetic, even. You always do this. Go back to each other, pulling out a past that’s probably better off left in the dark closet it belongs to. Still, how can you just forget? The idea feels foreign after all this time weaving in and out of one another’s lives.

Still, this is familiar, comfortable, in a way. The feigned indifference, the cold tone, the need to pretend neither of you care nearly as much as you do. It would be easier, less painless, to just move on. Have lives separate from each other.

But he’s starting to think he lives off pain. Physical and mental. It’s all he’s known for years. Why change a routine that’s become so commonplace? And even with the pain, he’s never been happier than he was with you. You understand him, and the part of him that hates that kneels to the part that needs it.

The break ups, the separation, it’s all just a low between highs. Ones he finds far more addicting than the pills sitting in his pocket.

He begins tapping his cane on the floor, a restless rhythm. “I miss you.” His voice is deadpan as the words come out, and you know why. He’s being honest, his tone can’t betray how hard that really is for him. He leans his head back, letting it thud against the wall behind you in a way that makes you flinch.

For a moment, you wonder if he’s just saying what you want to hear.

You quickly remember who you’re talking to.

He lets his knee fall sideways, brushing against yours. It’s tiny, imperceivable, almost. If you weren’t so clued into everything he was doing, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed it. But you did, your eyes flicking down to the point of contact. It feels dangerous.

“I missed you too.” Your voice is shaky, quiet, pathetic. To you, at least. Most might see this as normal. A healthy display of vulnerability. You, though. This is hell. It is for him too. It’s also necessary. Maybe this is your twisted way of proving yourselves to each other, giving evidence to your devotion.

“This won’t end well.” He says, pragmatic as always. Cold, sensible. Too smart for hoping, waiting on change that’ll never come.

“I know.” And I’m here anyway. Words go unspoken, you’ve had enough honesty for today.

He sighs, and the noise is too tired. For a second fear settles in that you’re the one doing this to him. That trying to be decent. Trying to be suitable for a relationship is just too much for him to handle.

“Then why are you here?” He knows the answer, he’s not stupid. Maybe he just needs to hear it, and then he’ll get the common sense to tell you to leave. To give up on this, spare both of you the inevitable pain.

You sigh, the idea of having the explain worse than just letting the truth linger unspoken. “What if it works this time?” You know it’s stupid, and you know he’ll tell you just that. For a second you remember something your therapist told you. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. You’d rolled your eyes, told her this wasn’t anything like that. That people can change, you can change.

You stopped going to your appointments after that.

You just look at him, watch as he closes his eyes, running a hand over his face before looking to you. “For how long?” For a second, you think there’s hope in his voice, like he’s waiting for you to lie to him, say this can last forever. It probably will, you think. On and off for the rest of your lives, never stable.

“We can find out.” The words are an invitation, a reckless one. You’ll let him back in, and it’ll end poorly, and you won’t be able to be mad. You knew how this would go from the start, how can you blame him for the inevitable?

He looks to you, and you can tell he’s given up. It was always gonna happen, you wouldn’t stay away forever. No use in wasting time waiting.

“I hate you.” The words are empty. It’s his last ditch effort to push you away. He has to do it, he has to know he didn’t just let you in. Something in him has to hold onto the false belief that he doesn’t need this, that he’s indifferent. That he’s the same cold man he’s always been.

As he mutters the words he reaches out, his hand sliding over your jaw, pulling you in closer.

You smile weakly, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of the statement. You know him, you know when he’s lying, and he’s never done a worse job at it than he just did.

You’re hardly inches apart now, your lips nearly ghosting his own. Your voice is shaky as you speak, “Love you too.” As his lips brush yours, he just melts, leaning into you with a fervor he used to call lust. There’s no use pretending that’s all this is now.

The kiss ends all too soon as he pulls away, shallow breaths leaving both of you, filling the silence. You almost wonder if you should leave when his voice sounds, quiet, tentative, all things he’s normally not.

“I’m going to screw this up.” The look in his eyes is guilt for something he hasn’t even done. He will, but you ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head that says to run before he has the chance. Yes, he’s hurt you. It’s not as if you haven’t done the same to him. You know where to aim when you’re mad, and you’ve turned him to a dartboard more times than you can count.

“I’m okay with that.” For a second, as the words fall off your tongue so easily, almost instinctually, you wonder if your mother would be disappointed in you. This isn’t how she raised you. Offering some man a hundred second chances all because what, you love him? Because when it’s good, it really is so good?

Because at the end of the day, you don’t think you could do it. Leave him, live the rest of your life without him in it. You’d wonder, you’d always wonder what would’ve happened if you just gave him one more chance. And so you will, again, and again, and again.

Sometimes you wonder what your life would look like if you’d never met him. Maybe you’d be married, happy with some man who gave you far less trouble than House ever did. You curse the way you find the thought boring. He’s awful, but he’s thrilling. You might even have kids, or at least be ready for one.

You know deep down you could have a future like that, and still, all thoughts of it dissipate when he opens his mouth.

“I’m off at eight.” Self loathing drips from each word. He’s a selfish bastard, he’ll let you forgive him, and time and time again, he’ll know he doesn’t deserve it. Still, he can’t turn you down. He can’t leave. He can’t not have you. The one good thing that’s ever come out of his life. He just can’t. Not when you’re offering.

“I’ll be here.” The words are so horribly fitting. Won’t you always? Will there ever be a time he takes it too far? Or will you always go back to him? Will you always turn away from the better life, the happier life you could have without him?

Yes. It’s always yes, because deep down, you stopped wanting a life without him the second you experienced life with him. Everything else became boring, commonplace, once you’d had him. There’s nothing like House. Not a person, or drug, or liquor strong enough to come close to how he makes you feel. Nothing can make the memory fade, and nothing can replace it either.

There’s no good outcome, it’s either life alone or life with him. And so you let his fingers interlace with your own, let the sensation numb the thought that never left your head this whole time, the one that’ll haunt you on sleepless nights you spend in his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms wrapped around you.

This is a mistake.

A/N: thank u to the taco bell fire sauce packet i quoted.

#house md #greg house #gregory house #dr house #house x reader #greg house x reader #gregory house x reader #dr house x reader #house #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writer #fanfiction writer #greg house x you #house x you #gregory house x you #dr house x you

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wintersnails · 5 months ago

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which House MD characters are microwaveable?

Chase: becomes soggy if you leave him in too long. you can do it, he just won’t taste very good

Cuddy: no, but will authorize the microwaving of other characters if she thinks it’s in the hospital’s best interest

House: loves to be microwaved but immediately releases extremely toxic fumes

Taub: he’s literally the perfect size, the most microwaveable man i’ve ever laid eyes on. gets nice and crispy on the outside without becoming dried out

Cameron: melts

Foreman: it’s completely ineffective. you microwave him for an hour and he’s still the exact same temperature as before. he raises his eyebrow skeptically the entire time he’s rotating around in there

Kutner: catches on fucking fire and burns your house down

Wilson: labeled as ‘microwave safe’ but he starts making weird popping noises halfway through so you have to take him out when he’s still lukewarm

Amber: gets kind of burnt on the edges but she’s mostly edible. you’ve probably ingested some carcinogens tho

#posts that feel like they should put me in the DSM #*rattling the bars of my enclosure* ‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND? IT ALL MAKES SENSE’#house md

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plorpl · 2 years ago

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More info (and insane screenshots) from the House MD DS game for those who want to know.

Way, way too much info under the break!!

The game took me about 5 hours to play total, including pauses for screenshots and cackling laughter. There are 5 cases, and each one has: the main case, a clinic patient, and a small subplot about Cuddy that strings through all 5 cases and concludes at the end of the game. It's extremely linear. To solve the case, you do activities when you are prompted, each having its own types of mini games. Activities include: examining the patient, ddx-ing, running tests, running labs, questioning the patient/friends/family, and searching houses/other areas for clues. All of these mini games suck. The best one is when House has to have an epiphany so you play brick breaker with his brain:

WHEN YOU DDX THEY USE THE MOUSE BITES PHOTO

You'll notice here that the visuals are a little uncanny valley. The likenesses are... not good.

The worst offender is 13, who always looks just a little bit off.

One of my favorite parts of the game is that you get graded on your performance and if you do bad, Cuddy doms you.

And when you do good, Wilson kind of negs you?? Feels like the people who made this game were obsessed with him (same). The contrast in these two screenshots really gets me.

More insane top screen screenshots without context:

Honestly, some of my favorites need both screens to really be appreciated:

I do not recommend playing it, really. These are the best parts, and the game itself is slow and can be frustrating. There is also... a lot of problematic nonsense. Worse than the show. Not going to try to make excuses here.

That being said, it's surreal. House is like a bad stand up comic for most of the game, and so much is out of character - House visits the patient FIRST THING every case, the whole team misses very obvious deductive leaps, there's no gay sex, etc, etc, etc. But at the same time, the people who made the game clearly had a love for the show. It follows the typical structure of an episode faithfully and has some detailed, satisfying visuals in it. Everyone's clothes change each episode, even in their little bottom of the screen sprites. This Wilson makes me happy with his show-accurate mug and hand gesture:

And there are some nice interiors/exteriors of the hospital and better rendered pictures that make me smile:

It made me and my friends laugh a lot. And it also makes me a little sad. I spent a lot of my childhood playing shitty licensed games like this (remember the madagascar one???), but they are mostly a thing of the past. I know they were cash-grab trash, but it's odd that there's this genre of game that doesn't really get made any more. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm glad this game exists.

Anyway, here's an upsetting House and Wilson for the road:

#house md #hate crimes md #ds game #house md ds

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oddlittlestories · 9 months ago

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Thinking about Cuddy.

House is a genius. I’ve written about how Wilson is equally talented.

But Cuddy is, too.

One of three(?) female deans of medicine in the country. One of the youngest. And every time the spotlight turns onto her, she does things no one else can do.

She has a kid by herself. Wilson points out that a man in her position would have a wife, two nannies AND two assistants. (She tries to hire an assistant and the job is so demanding they quit regularly.)

She consistently gets things for the hospital no one else can get and is the trump card only she can play. In 5 to 9, she gets (I think) 7%, which is far and away better than her opponent, her board, or anyone else but her thought she could get.

In season 1, iirc it’s implied SHE brings in Vogler, and she’s the only person who can stop him when he starts tearing the entire hospital apart to get at House.

In season 3, she ends the nonsense with Tritter.

She’s also the only person who can and will keep House on her team (no one will hire House or Foreman, other than her). And she’s the only person who can wrangle him, canonically (I disagree with canon, but Cameron does hand the reigns back to Cuddy with this exact statement). Moreover, she makes House an ASSET. In 5 to 9, she explains that PPTH is on the cutting edge, which includes their world famous ddx department.

And! Despite the fact that House routinely accuses her of being an administrator and not a doctor anymore, she still successfully treats patients from time to time. She helps ddx the babies in Maternity. She saves her patient’s baby in Fetal Position. In s5 Joy, she clocks that something is wrong with the mom when no one else does, and pushes until the diagnosis is made and saves both their lives. She figures out the diagnosis in Joy to the World at the same time as House, and is so kind and respectful to the folks caring for the baby, yet still makes sure she gives the baby what she needs.

I have to admit that I don’t remember s7-8 well enough to go through those, but it’s clear to everyone that Cuddy is a great doctor. Much like Wilson, she gets dismissed in part bc she gets too emotionally involved. And it’s also clear that no one really understands her work or how good she is at it. Everyone only sees their part, and she has to see all of it and make it all fit together, making sure everyone gets what they need. Her ability to flip between caring and hardass undermines her ability to seem tough, but it’s also necessary. If she couldn’t care, she wouldn’t take such good care of her people or patients. If she couldn’t toughen up, she’d let people walk all over her. It’s a unique style, and not without its pitfalls, but it’s all hers.

And like Wilson, she doesn’t get seen as a genius. In fact, she barely gets acknowledged as smart at all. A lot of her successes come from charisma and social intelligence. And those things often get dismissed in women, especially women who care as deeply and obviously as Cuddy does. The ability to juggle so many things gets dismissed as “basically being well-organized,” and also, no one really SEES what she does. It sometimes takes her a minute, but she reads people like THAT. She figures out and outwits that sociopathic drug dealer. She sees through most of House’s lies. She often settles with plaintiffs because of guilt, but she also often talks them out of suing the hospital in the first place.

Cuddy is just as good, and just as brilliant, at her job as House and Wilson. But she doesn’t get seen as a genius anymore than Wilson does.

#this isn’t quite as good as the Wilson one #but I got really tired of Cuddy not being included in thinkpieces #I too love hearing about how awesome she is #but I think we can go further with this one guys #the narrative doesn’t center on her #and often her story centers on House instead of her #but Cuddy is brilliant and richly developed too #and although I admit I don’t understand her quite as well #I’m gonna do my darndest to center things more on cuddy #lisa cuddy #house md #meta #bees meta #bee writes meta #my meta

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housemdork · 14 days ago

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house md rewatch: 1x05, "damned if you do"

this is going to be a long one, so apologies in advance!

i'm putting this at the top of the recap because it's funny and i don't want to forget to mention it: hugh laurie cannot say "percent" in an american accent. it's the single word that he's fumbled so far, and i love it every time.

very solid episode overall with a lot more character-specific development. i feel like 1x04 was more overall thematic development, whereas 1x05 featured more individual traits among the ducklings, house, and cuddy (with some fleeting bonus wilson at the end). for organization's sake, i'll list those here:

cuddy remains the keeper of order, but her sense of duty comes increasingly from her strong-willed responsibility and patient advocacy rather than any petulance. i love how house as an individual pushes us to dislike her/find her annoying, but cuddy herself makes compelling ethical arguments for refuting house every time. not to be hostile here, but i think viewers who have a strong dislike for cuddy are fundamentally missing the intent and brilliance of her character.

cameron is a strong agnostic who doesn't quite see the irony in her absolutist devotion to house. she craves order in the world - she doesn't reject a universal keeper-of-order, just an "anthropomorphic" being - and finds that within her job and within the realm of house. i love that her naivety isn't just her being Young And Impressionable, but comes from her need to make sense of the loss in her life and in that of her patients'.

foreman was giving judas throughout this episode, giving us the most direct character trait of his yet - clear, unwavering convictions. and i think it's misguided to qualify these convictions are selfish or inherently anti-house (i see that take a lot on twitter). he doesn't take the decision to oust house to cuddy lightly, yet even when he's rejected by cameron and chase for his choice, he stays firm. and he's paradoxically rewarded by house for it.

robert chase. i'm already getting weepy about where his story is headed. this is the show's first mentioning of chase's history with catholicism - his time in seminary school, his distaste for his father, the fact that he's held onto the religious know-how instilled in him, and that his doubt and dejection stems from fear. retrospective knowledge about his father also shows how he's already transferring his ideal of fatherhood to house, however subliminally. one of my favorite interactions in this episode was when house insists to chase that religion is enforced via fear of god and divine retribution passed down by fathers to their sons. not only do we know this to be true of chase's childhood, but chase has already shown us a fear of failing house.

a note about me for context - i'm an atheist (i promise on my life that i'm not edgy and exclusionary like house!) who grew up catholic until i was about 15. i also recently taught at a catholic university, so catholic themes and practices are fresh on my mind. this episode is rife with direct allusions to the religion.

over-ambitious though this comparison may be, i viewed cuddy and house as competing religious dogmas in 1x05, very in line with a church (PPTH) schism. the patient's moral code, her being a nun, is textually compared to cuddy's rule over the hospital (in a funny house-hates-authority-because-he-finds-it-suffocating way). house objects to the nuns' belief system and, in the same breath, objects to cuddy's taking control of the case because he's violating established codes of hospital conduct, i.e., putting the patient in the hyperbaric chamber without enough evidence that it will help her.

so when house is taken off the case, he's basically being thrown out of a metaphorical church and treated like an outcast. maybe a pariah, if we take the comparison even further, which sparks a very unexpected patch of guilt within him. also very catholic (ask my irish catholic family). more on this later!

i also think the emphasis on house's potential misery bears some investigating since this is the first time the show tugs at this thread. at the very start of the episode, wilson and house are comparing clinic duties to dante's circles of hell. house eventually equivocates the task of charting to having "melancholy without hope." it's a fleeting and funny remark at first, but one of the patient's fellow nuns resurrects this conversation later on in the hospital chapel.

the nun addresses house's facade, saying that "you make jokes because you're afraid to take anything seriously because, if you take things seriously, they matter."

house refutes this instantly, of course, which she's prepared for. in the face of his obstinance, she says, "i barely know you, and i don't know if i'm right. i just hope i am, because the alternative is you really are as miserable as you seem to be."

THIS IS THE GOOD STUFF! not only does 1x05 offer up a woman of faith as a suitable opponent for house's wry cynicism, but we've been unsure thus far about the depths of house's misery, nor how far down his front goes. this episode shows us the absolute top of the iceberg. in the following scene, cuddy kicks him off the case, and the next time we see house, he's searching through the epinephrine drawer in the clinic room to see if he really did make a mistake and make his patient sick. guilt has struck, and guilt is scary because it also proves that house himself believes that he can be fallible.

so it's only fitting that the angel on house's shoulder appears during the throes of his guilt to probe a little further into his thoughts and feelings. wilson circumvents the several conversational traps that house lays for him like he's paid to do it, and lands on the fact that house feels guilty for potentially failing his patient, but wilson phrases it in a very nonsecular way: "guilt does a lot of damage...you're here because you're having doubts."

in a trend that will be repeated well into the future, it's only wilson who can permeate the deific walls house erects around himself. how crazy it is to psychoanalyze the show's symbolic god figure, let alone do it successfully?

and that all sounds a whole lot like a conversation that could take place inside a confessional.

this exchange helps inspire what i think is the episode's most profound conversation - when house and the patient speak to one another about her god and her faith as she denies treatment. house permits belief in the afterlife, but rejects any and all belief that insists that a god can affect the Here And Now. subliminally, he's struggling with the idea that suffering and illness could be caused by a being people are supposed to love and worship because he sees suffering and illness as puzzles that need to be solved and corrected. how can anyone, then, find bliss in unsolved suffering?

the patient then says this in response: "i don't believe that He is inside me and is going to save me. i believe He is inside me whether i live or die."

house: "then you might as well live. you got a better shot betting on me than Him."

in an incredibly odd twist, 1x05 highlights a deep, barely detectable kindness in house that the show posits is not accessible via the catholic nun's faith (controversial, i know, but i'm calling it like i see it). house does not operate like their god. if he is a symbolic god figure, his penchant for puzzle solving isn't so far removed from humanity. it comes from the belief that life is good and suffering is bad. not that he would ever really admit that, though.

finally (and i'm scaling back a lot of my thoughts here because this post is already way too long), i want to circle back on confession and guilt. the relationship between the 2 is everywhere in 1x05. foreman, though he was in the right to "betray" house, feels guilty for confessing to cuddy. chase confesses to the patient that he left seminary school because he failed the faith/fear test, and he exhibits conflicted guilt throughout the episode. his specific brand of catholic guilt becomes a huge component of his character moving forward. house feels guilt on-screen for the first time. and cuddy even feels guilt for, first, letting one of her doctors potentially harm a patient due to negligence and, later, almost sabotaging house's diagnosis.

you know who doesn't feel guilty this episode, though? despite having the most blatant reason for it?

"maybe i'll come to your place." "your wife doesn't mind being alone on christmas?" "i'm a doctor. she's used to being alone. i don't want to talk about it."

i can think of very few conversations that reveal so much about a character so quickly:

hanging out together outside of work is normal for these 2.

wilson is married and the relationship is rocky.

he's clearly to blame, at least in part, for that rockiness.

he doesn't seem to mind being to blame for it. he'd much rather prioritize his other relationships.

despite being the one to draw out the truth being house's thoughts and feelings about guilt and self-honesty throughout the episode, wilson refuses to engage in this himself. he flagrantly shuts down the opportunity for confession, despite having demanded it of house earlier on.

this marks a clear shift from wilson existing just to define/prop up house into wilson as a slowly burgeoning foil. he's characterized by our lack of knowledge about him; by now, cameron, foreman, chase, and house are pretty illuminated, and 1x05 did a lot of work with cuddy, too. even the slightest tease of info deconstructs a lot of our assumptions about wilson so far. he's only been the kind oncologist who sees the good in house - what do you mean he's shitty?

this episode had some visuals to imply house/wilson as foils, too:

and, much like how he can bring out the painful honesty in house, he can also bring out house's most organic (unmasked, some might say) side, too. spending christmas eve together lets us know that domesticity is common between them, while also confirming that house does not, in fact, have much to come home to.

that one tumblr post that says "nothing prepares you for james wilson" is so right. he's the lynchpin for so much of this show yet approaches so slowly.

i could keep going. i forgot how much i like this episode. there's even one line from wilson to house where he says "you do realize that if you're wrong about the big picture, you're going to burn" and like. okay. whatever.

#house md #malpractice md #greg house #james wilson #allison cameron #eric foreman #robert chase #lisa cuddy #cameron #foreman #chase #cuddy #house md rewatch #rewatch 1 #season 1 #sorry for this biblical tome of a post #pun intended #hilson

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ljblueteak · 2 months ago

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I was interested to see how the "Who's House's successor going to be?" conversation played out on the Chase TWOP thread as the show aired. While that thread didn't really have too many people predicting Chase as House's successor right away, the thing people said the most often early on (by at least Dec. 2005) was that Foreman was more suited to Cuddy's role, mostly because of his ambition (she's the boss!), but also a little bit due to personality. It was interesting to see the different ways people matched Foreman, Chase and Cameron to House, Cuddy or Wilson. Some categorized according to personality/role they played in the narrative, others based on ambition, and others by how they worked through diagnoses (and some mixed and matched).

To start, there was more discussion of Chase as being in the Wilson role and Cameron in the House role. In Dec. 2005, TWOP forum user Naja Nivae said that "Both [Chase and Wilson] are calm and level headed and take House's shit without flinching and both have snappy patter with him. Plus both seem to have a sort of beaten down acceptance of life and a quiet caring way of approaching people and patients." This same person said that "Cameron in a way is more like House personality wise, in that if things don't fit her views then she must get her way at all costs no matter who it hurts in the long run. She, like House, is a drama queen only about different things. House flies off the handle in anger, while she does it with sadness or caring."

Then there seemed to be a shift and more discussion turned toward Chase being set up as the "mini-House," but mostly based on similar out-of-the box thinking (looks like this especially came up after episodes like Failure to Communicate and then kept going from there).

In 2008, TWOP forums user wildebeest made the point that all "the original ducklings showed different aspects of House's character" and that they "loved the contrast between Foreman acting like House and Chase thinking like House." I've added that screenshot below, but also had to include the one where they predicted in August 2007 that Chase as an intensivist would end up in the ICU and that Wilson would have "a cancer scare."

#house md #robert chase #gregory house #eric foreman #lisa cuddy #allison cameron #james wilson #other people's meta #I'm so sad that the thread lost about 40 pages of material right around the time Finding Judas aired #And also dropped off a cliff around seasons 4 and 5 #looks like a fair amount of people who were Chase fans while the show was airing just gave up around seasons 4 and 5. Or at least stopped #posting on that thread.#long post

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beecass · 4 months ago

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i think the most out of caracther thing that happens in house md besides the scene where house chooses cuddy instead of his work is the fact that wilson NEVER says i love you to house . HE NEVER SAYS IT . the man who lives to marry again and again. the righteous loving and most loveble man. never says i love you to his best friend.

writing this but at the same time thinking this is the most in caracther thing ever. imagine being the one who always assures people that he cares about them. but then the one person he truly loves he loves for the reason that he can be himself without having to assure house of anything, he can Not care. he is allowed to not care with house. he doesnt need to say i love you. neither of them do.

#had this thought #and went oh wait scratch that #like ive rewatched so many times and still need to unwrap my brain thinking if he did or not say i love you #bc neither makes sense and bothe makes sense at the same time #fuck them i hate these old fucking fairies #hilson #house md #hate crimes md #hatecrimes md

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alilixx · 11 months ago

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Lisa Cuddy X Lawyer Reader (WLW)

NSFW SOMETIMES

First of all, I just want to apologize for any misunderstandings or mistakes. I’m not from America or England, so the laws and conventions are different, etc and english isn't my native language so maybe the translate can't be that good but i did my best. I hope you still enjoy the fanfiction! Okay, so for those who might not understand, the message above was BEFORE I started writing. I’m adding a few things after finishing; I might write a sequel? I’m mostly going to sleep now because I spent my night and day finishing this fanfiction only to end up disappointed. I’m sorry, it’s been over five years since I last wrote a fanfiction, so I’ve lost some of my touch, but I hope you’ll like it. If you have any feedback, please feel free to share it, whether it’s positive or negative, but please do so respectfully! My next fanfictions will be about Hugh Laurie X Reader and then James Wilson X Reader! I won’t say anything more, but I promise to improve for the future. Alilixx

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A few hours after your lunch break, the phone at your office will ring. Your next client hadn't arrived yet, so what was the harm in answering? None, despite the number being strange, you were convinced you recognized it, but from where? After a few seconds of thinking, no answer would come to mind, so you pressed the button to pick up. The voice on the other end seemed familiar until everything clicked. House. A raspy voice on the phone you unfortunately knew quite well greeted you. Politeness would have dictated a "Hello" or something like that, but you didn't. He wasn't stupid; he knew why you weren't responding. Years without speaking after an argument, he didn't expect you to be very friendly with him, not after what he did.

"Listen Y/N, I know you didn't want to hear from me anymore, but I have a problem. I need a… favor, a service from you. I've caused more trouble for Cuddy and unfortunately, I don't have the money for lawyer fees, and neither does Cuddy. I don't want to lose my job, so just this once, help me."

After a few seconds of thinking, you shook your head before sighing and asking one of the last questions of this call, or so you hoped.

"I finish in two hours, stay at the hospital. I'll come after."

You would just hear a simple "Thanks" with what seemed like a smile from House. House smiling? Impossible, you hung up as your client arrived. Another divorce case, people sure get married way too often only to end up giving money to the other after the hate stage. You closed your client's file before grabbing your jacket and keys to head to the hospital, even though you'd rather be in a trial than go there. But seeing House asking for a favor was exceptional. After a good ten minutes, you arrived at the hospital. The reception didn't say anything as you passed by. Apparently, House had already warned people. Should you go to Cuddy's office or House's? After a few seconds of hesitation in the elevator, you decided to go to House's office, and no one was there. As if sending a message was complicated, you stepped back and knocked on Cuddy's office door. With her permission, you slightly opened the door to see several people inside. A woman was seated behind her desk, so Cuddy? The famous House and three other people, one of whom you didn't know, but the other two you did.

"Are you the police interrogating my clients, dear Lopez and Harper? I didn't know you had switched from lawyer to investigator. Unless I'm mistaken and you're doing this illegally? That would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

After turning around, the two lawyers who apparently had issues with House tried to come up with an excuse. The only response you gave them was a quick hand gesture towards the door behind you. They left, and you closed the door immediately. Cuddy got up to approach you, extending her hand to introduce herself, and you did the same. The person you didn't recognize smiled kindly at you, though you still couldn't place them.

"Can I know why they were here? I assume it has to do with House, but what did he do?"

Cuddy invited you to sit next to the unknown person, which you did. On the couch opposite were House and Cuddy. You quickly moved your head to see the name tag on the person's lab coat: "Wilson." Apparently, a very good friend of House. Cuddy cleared her throat to speak and crossed her left leg over the other.

"Dr. House… drugged someone to perform tests on them, even though they were healthy… at least nothing has shown up yet. The person contacted their lawyers to file a lawsuit against House."

You simply nodded, wondering why you agreed to this, just for a favor. You would have been better off sticking to divorces. You thought about how to defend this and opened a folder to read some documents. You thanked your education, which might potentially save him.

"I see, I understand the patient's perspective… The context is… unique. I must warn you there will likely be a conflict of interest, but I will remain neutral. It will probably be Judge Schultz, whom I know quite well, so there shouldn’t be any issues. However, the opposing side might use my past friendship with Dr. House as an argument, but that shouldn’t hold up given my reputation. We need the tests to be conclusive and show that the patient actually has something to better defend House. I’m not asking for a fake health report as that would just worsen the situation. I have about twelve strategies to defend House even if the tests aren't positive. So, if the tests are, House will get off with nothing but a fine."

Cuddy nodded while House didn’t seem to care at all, but you were used to that. This wasn’t the first time, and it would have surprised you if it were any different. You started writing down phrases on a sheet of paper before placing it on the small table between the four of you.

"I'll need you all to help fill in the details of my client's situation. Here's the first one: does the opposing side have any concrete evidence that House drugged them?"

Everyone looked at House, who tapped the floor with his cane before shaking his head.

"I don't think so. I used a very small dose so that it wouldn't show up when we ran the tests. So technically, no."

You crossed out the first line and moved on to the next. Thinking as you twirled the pen between your fingers, you crossed out the second phrase without even asking.

"I assume the person doesn't remember the events, so we can play on that. Implied consent… so lack of evidence and implied consent."

Were you as twisted as House for defending him this way? Probably. Was it worse because you were going to win? Probably that too, but it wasn't the time for a moral lesson, so you'd ponder the meaning of life later.

"I can try to use something else to strengthen our case, but it's a double-edged sword. I can argue absence of malicious intent, but… it's House. So, saying House didn't intend harm or that the tests were supposed to be beneficial or necessary in some way. The only problem is there are other ways to run tests, and I assume you already have a significant record for this kind of behavior. Plus, we need to contextualize the actions, and that will put House in the wrong. I don't think we should take that risk."

You crossed out another phrase; you were getting tired of this. Arguing about the patient's mental health but not providing extenuating circumstances for House because… it's House? As if he had no previous run-ins with the law, consent issues, and the problems that followed.

"We're going to play with the justice system and the opposing side, let me explain. I assume there hasn't been an investigation yet. Given the 'hidden' results, let's say, the police won't have anything, so we can play on that. So, 1-0. We can add that the patient has a grudge against House or just wants money given his status as a doctor, so trying to win a lawsuit brings in money. 2-0. And many other points considering legal loopholes and so on. So, we should win the case outright if House keeps a low profile and the results come back positive, proving the patient indeed has something, then House won't face anything except maybe a fine for 'saving a life'… I mean, he's not Superman either."

Cuddy nodded, looking thoughtful, while House seemed indifferent as usual. Wilson appeared both impressed and concerned, knowing House well enough to see the potential fallout. You continued jotting down notes, formulating a plan to navigate this complex case.

You closed your folder once more, placing the sheet inside, and looked at the others. It seemed you had lost Wilson in your explanation. Cuddy remained calm and simply nodded while House acted like his usual fool. You stood up, giving a quick wave of goodbye as you started to walk away from the trio, but you stopped at the door and turned around.

"I'm doing this for free, House, despite our past, but you must keep quiet during the trial. Otherwise, you're on your own. I'm not your mother."

Despite his jaw moving as if to speak, you left the hospital, running into Cameron. You didn't recognize her at first until she threw her arms around you. You gave her a gentle pat on the back. It had been since your cousin's passing that you had last seen her.

"Hey Cameron, how are you? You've aged!"

She gave you a light tap on the back, smiling and nodding. She explained that work was exhausting; after all, she worked for House. You understood completely, feeling the same after about an hour of saving his skin. She loved her job, as did House, but she prioritized her work, so she kept going. After about twenty minutes, you hugged her one last time before leaving, despite feeling someone watching you—probably House. You didn't care about his childish games; you just wanted to go home and rest. Your car was your best friend. Driving home with "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac playing, you couldn't quite pinpoint why you loved the song so much—perhaps because it was a collection of unfinished pieces by the band? After long questions about your own existence, you realized you were already home. Grabbing your things and unlocking the door felt like the longest task of your life. You didn't even have the patience to put your things away, so they ended up on the couch, allowing you to shower and collapse into bed.

Hours passed, and your eyelids grew heavier until you saw "9am" on your alarm clock. Had you really slept, or was it just a sleepless night without realizing it? You were exhausted, but work was calling. Your next hearing was Friday afternoon, and it was Tuesday morning—surely, a day off wouldn't kill anyone, especially after dealing with House. You turned off your alarm for the next few wake-ups and let your heavy head fall back on the pillow, falling asleep once more.

This time, it was around two in the afternoon. Unfortunately, you had to work on a case, so you went through your routine—shower, document review, meal, and a quick walk to stretch your legs. The evening markets were beautiful; you couldn't go often during the week, but why not this time? The argument that kept you there longer was the still-warm cup of hot chocolate in your right hand. The twinkling lights of the stalls and the spicy scents floated in the cool night air. The crowd was dense but cheerful, with laughter and conversations creating a warm symphony that almost warmed you as much as the chocolate you had just finished. You wandered between the stands, stopping here and there to admire the handmade crafts and local products. Suddenly, your attention was drawn to a stand of colorful jewelry. An elderly woman with white hair and sparkling eyes held a delicately crafted silver necklace.

"Good evening," she said, her voice as warm as her smile. "Looking for something special?"

You smiled back, feeling the stress of the day melting away in the vibrant atmosphere of the market. "Just browsing, but this necklace is beautiful. Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes, indeed," she replied, her eyes twinkling with pride. "Each piece tells a story. Would you like to hear about this one?"

You nodded, intrigued, as she began to tell the tale behind the necklace, her words weaving a tapestry of history and craftsmanship that made you appreciate the piece even more.

"Do you like it?" she asked, noticing your interest.

"Yes, it's beautiful," you replied, stepping closer.

"It's a unique piece, made with great care," the woman explained. "Every detail tells a story."

You took the necklace in your hands, feeling the reassuring weight of the silver and admiring the intricate patterns. It almost seemed to vibrate with a special energy, as if it contained an ancient secret. You wondered what story it held and why, the moment you saw it, you thought of the woman in the office with House and his friend.

"I'll take it," you declared, determined. The old woman smiled even more and wrapped the necklace in pretty tissue paper before handing it to you. You thanked her and continued your stroll, the necklace safely kept in your bag. As you walked on, you couldn't help but think back to the old woman's words. Every detail tells a story... But why did it make you think of Cuddy? Lost in your thoughts, you didn't immediately notice the familiar figure heading toward you.

It was only when you heard your name that you looked up, surprised to see Cameron with two of her friends. One was an African-American man, about 6 feet tall, with an athletic and slim build reflecting a disciplined and well-cared-for appearance. His features included a square jaw and high cheekbones, giving his face a serious and determined expression. His short, well-groomed black hair accentuated his professional and rigorous look. You noticed his dark brown eyes, often penetrating and expressive. The other man, standing to his right, was a Caucasian, of medium height, around 6 feet tall. He had a lean and athletic build, reflecting an active youth and attention to physical fitness. His facial features were finely chiseled with a square jaw and a straight nose. His light blue eyes were often seen as penetrating and expressive, conveying a mix of curiosity, compassion, and doubt. His blonde hair was neatly styled with a touch of deliberately tousled disorder, giving him a relaxed and approachable look. Cameron gave you a quick wave to come over, which you did, of course, shaking hands with her two friends. The African-American man was Eric Foreman, and the other man was Robert Chase, according to Cameron, her colleagues at work. Though they were very friendly, you remained cautious as they were associated with House, which was the opposite of you.

After the introductions, Cameron smiled warmly at you. "We were thinking of going for a drink. Would you like to join us?"

You hesitated for a moment, but the idea of a relaxing evening was appealing. "Sure, that sounds nice."

The four of you headed to a quaint café-restaurant nearby. The place was cozy, with dim lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. You took a seat at a table by the window, offering a beautiful view of the illuminated square. The conversation started off slowly, with polite exchanges about your respective days. Foreman talked about his interest in neurology, while Chase shared some amusing anecdotes from his time in Australia. Cameron, ever considerate, made sure you felt comfortable and included in the discussion.

Then, the topic inevitably shifted to House. "So, you work with House?" you asked, trying to hide your curiosity behind a polite smile.

Foreman and Chase exchanged a knowing glance. "Yeah, it’s… an experience, let’s say," Chase replied with a wry smile.

"That’s putting it mildly," Foreman added with a nod.

The evening continued in a lighter atmosphere. You shared laughs, stories, and moments of camaraderie. Gradually, you felt more at ease with them, realizing that despite their connections to House, they were passionate and dedicated professionals. As the night progressed, Cameron suggested taking a stroll through the markets before heading home.

"Let’s enjoy the evening a bit more, what do you think?"

You eagerly agreed, happy to extend this pleasant moment. Foreman and Chase joined in, and you found yourselves back among the sparkling lights and enchanting scents of the night markets. Maybe this chance meeting would mark the beginning of a new friendship, or even an unexpected collaboration. Either way, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future might bring, surrounded by these newfound allies.

After a delightful evening with Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, you parted ways with your new friends and headed home. The night was well advanced, and the streets were calm, bathed in the soft glow of street lamps. The return journey allowed you to reflect on the evening and the people you had just met. Arriving home, you closed the door behind you and let out a long sigh of contentment. The warmth and comfort of your apartment enveloped you immediately. You kicked off your shoes and took off your jacket, neatly putting them away before heading to the kitchen. You made yourself a cup of chamomile tea, seeking to relax before bed. With your warm cup in hand, you made your way to the living room and settled on the couch. You took a moment to think about the evening, replaying each conversation and the impressions Foreman and Chase had left on you. They seemed like good people, despite their association with House. Perhaps they deserved a chance.

You placed the empty cup on the coffee table and got ready for bed. In your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes from the day into a comfortable nightshirt. Before sliding under the covers, you took out the necklace you had bought earlier at the market and examined it again. The old woman’s words still echoed in your mind: “Every detail tells a story.” As you observed the necklace in the soft light of your bedside lamp, you wondered what story it might tell. Perhaps this unique piece would hold a special meaning for you, a symbol of this unexpected evening and the new acquaintances you had made. You gently placed the necklace on your nightstand and turned off the lamp, slipping beneath the covers. As you closed your eyes, you felt strangely serene. The fatigue from the day and the soothing warmth of your bed enveloped you, and you drifted off to sleep, already dreaming of future adventures.

The next morning, you woke with the first rays of sunlight filtering through your bedroom curtains. You stretched out, still feeling the previous day's fatigue but also a newfound excitement for the day ahead. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, you felt ready to tackle the new day. You took a moment to examine the necklace again on your nightstand. It seemed even more mysterious in the daylight. Though you were tempted to wear it, you remembered your decision to give it to Cuddy when the time was right. With a smile, you returned the necklace to its box and carefully placed it in a drawer.

As you left your house, you headed towards your workplace. The morning passed quickly with the usual tasks, client meetings, and paperwork. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. The idea of seeing them again seemed increasingly appealing. At lunch break, you received a message from Cameron. She invited you to join the three of them for coffee after work. With a smile, you responded positively, excited about the prospect of getting to know these new people better.

After work, you made your way to the café where you were to meet Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. The place was cozy, with a warm and welcoming atmosphere. You found them seated at a table near the window, waving to you as you walked in. The conversation quickly picked up where you had left off the night before. You discussed various topics, from work challenges to personal hobbies. At one point, Foreman asked about your necklace.

"Oh, it was a spontaneous purchase at the market last night," you said with a smile. "The lady who sold it to me mentioned that every detail tells a story."

"That’s fascinating," Chase said, examining the necklace more closely. "Maybe we should try to uncover that story."

The idea sounded intriguing. "Why not?" you replied. "It could be an interesting activity."

After your coffee, you decided to take a short walk in the area, enjoying the evening’s mild weather. Along the way, you passed an antique shop. Cameron suggested you go inside, thinking the owner might know more about your necklace. Inside the shop, the atmosphere was imbued with old-world charm. The owner, an older man with round glasses, greeted you warmly. You showed him the necklace and explained how you had acquired it. He examined the piece carefully before looking up at you. "This necklace is indeed very special. It comes from an old collection, known for its connections to stories of healing."

You found it quite amusing that Cuddy had come to mind, but why did you think of her? The subject intrigued you more and more. “Really? What else can you tell us about it?”

The shopkeeper smiled and began to recount a fascinating story about the origin of the necklace, its former owners, and the legends surrounding it. You listened intently, mesmerized by the details and mysteries that this simple piece of jewelry seemed to contain. After leaving the shop, you found yourself with Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, discussing the implications of what you had just learned. “I think this necklace might really appeal to Cuddy,” you said with a smile. “I want to give it to her, but I also want to make sure I understand its entire story.”

Cameron nodded. “That’s a lovely idea. And we’d be happy to help you uncover more.”

You smiled gently, touched by Cameron’s kindness. The evening ended on this note of camaraderie and shared enthusiasm. Back at home, you once again put away the necklace, promising yourself to continue exploring its secrets. You were now convinced that this piece of jewelry would play an important role, not only in your future relationship with Cuddy but also in your own adventure.

On Thursday morning, you woke up early, feeling the weight of a busy day ahead. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, you prepared to tackle the last-minute preparations for your client's trial scheduled for the next day. Before leaving your apartment, you took a moment to ensure that all the necessary documents were in order and neatly packed in your briefcase.

At the office, you greeted your colleagues and immediately immersed yourself in work. The morning passed swiftly with dossier reviews, phone calls, and meetings with your legal team. Your assistant brought you a strong coffee, knowing you would need all the energy you could get. Early in the afternoon, you decided to take a break and headed to your usual café, where you had met Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. They were scheduled to join you for a discussion and to help take your mind off the upcoming trial.

When they arrived, you ordered drinks and settled at a quiet table.

The conversation quickly shifted to your work and the upcoming trial. “You must be pretty stressed,” Foreman remarked, studying you closely.

“Yes, that’s the case,” you admitted. “But I’m ready.”

Chase smiled. “You’re one of the best. Your client is in good hands.”

Cameron added, “We’re here to support you. You’re going to do great.”

As the evening approached, you headed back home. After returning to the office, you spent the evening fine-tuning your arguments, reviewing testimonies, and ensuring that all evidence was in order. You felt the pressure mounting, but you were determined to give your all for your client. Around 10 p.m., you decided to go home to rest. You took a hot shower to unwind and made yourself a cup of herbal tea. Before going to bed, you took one last look at your trial notes, re-reading the key points to make sure everything was clear in your mind.

On Friday morning, you woke up with renewed determination. After a quick shower and breakfast, you headed to the courthouse. The atmosphere was tense, but you felt prepared.

At the courthouse, you met with your client and reassured them. “We’re ready. Trust me.”

The trial began, and you focused entirely on your arguments, presenting clear and compelling points. Hours passed in palpable tension, with every word and gesture carrying crucial importance. During breaks, you quickly checked your phone, receiving encouraging messages from Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. Their support gave you the strength to continue with confidence.

Finally, the moment of the verdict arrived. The jury retired to deliberate, and you spent this waiting period with your client, trying to reassure them despite your own stress. When the jury returned with their decision, you stood alongside your client to hear the verdict.

As the verdict was announced, a wave of relief and satisfaction washed over you. Your client was acquitted. You felt an immense sense of pride and gratitude for all the hard work accomplished. After thanking and congratulating your client, you left the courthouse with a sense of accomplishment.

In the evening, after meeting with a client following the verdict, the day had passed quietly. To celebrate, you sent a message to Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, inviting them to meet at the same café to share the good news. They arrived promptly, all smiles and ready to celebrate with you.

"Congratulations!" Cameron exclaimed, hugging you tightly. "You did it!"

Foreman and Chase also offered their congratulations, and you spent the evening chatting, laughing, and enjoying the moment of victory.As you were sitting at a table near the window, you noticed Wilson enter the café. Clearly, he was there for a break after a long day at the hospital. You waved at him, and he approached your table with a smile.

"Hey, everyone!" Wilson said as he approached. "Congratulations on the trial, I heard it went well."

"Thanks, Wilson. Yes, everything went really well," you replied with a smile, still floating on a cloud of victory, even though you didn’t know him very well.

"You did well to celebrate," Wilson added, addressing everyone. "I hope you’re all enjoying your evening."

After exchanging a few pleasantries and congratulations, Wilson left to pick up his coffee order. You resumed your conversation, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Wilson had heard about your success.

When you returned home late that evening, you took a moment to reflect on everything that had happened over the past few days. You knew that new adventures and challenges awaited you, but for now, you allowed yourself to savor this well-deserved victory. Before going to bed, you took a moment to unwind and enjoy the calm after the excitement of the day. You slipped into your bed, exhausted but happy, ready to face whatever the future held.

On Monday morning, back at the hospital, Wilson crossed paths with House in one of the corridors. House, as usual, seemed intrigued by something.

"So, you were at the café last night?" House asked, with an apparently nonchalant tone but with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Wilson nodded. "Yes, I ran into your team and your lawyer there. They were celebrating Y/N’s trial success."

House raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Interesting."

Wilson smiled at House’s evident interest. "You seem quite intrigued, House. Anything to say about it?"

House pretended not to be particularly interested, but he couldn't completely hide his curiosity. "I just wonder how she manages to juggle everything. Maybe there's something else driving her."

As you were heading to the break room for a well-deserved rest, you bumped into House. He looked at you with that enigmatic smile that was so characteristic of him.

"So, the great lawyer wins again," he said with a sarcastic tone, his piercing gaze fixed on you.

"It was a team effort, as always," you replied with a smile.

House shrugged, a mocking expression on his face. "Yeah, that's what they say. But maybe you just got lucky or you slipped under the desk."

You furrowed your brow slightly but maintained your composure. "Yes, luck always plays a role."

House looked at you for a moment, his smile turning into a smirk. "Or maybe your persuasive skills are just a façade. You should really thank your team more often."

You felt a flicker of irritation rise but kept your calm. "I know how to recognize my colleagues' work, House. Thanks for the advice."

House burst into a humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m sure you do. Everyone loves recognition, especially when they’re working for someone as... competent."

Before you could respond, House turned and walked away, his laughter echoing in the corridor. You stood there for a moment, contemplating the interaction. House had a way of hitting on the most sensitive points, and he seemed to enjoy testing your limits. You pushed the confrontation aside for now, thinking that you'd bring it up with Cuddy. As the hour came to return to work and finish your day, your thoughts refocused on your tasks.

Your morning had dragged on so much that it felt like the entire year was crammed into a single day, stretching it out as long as possible. Fortunately, after another two long hours, your lunch break finally arrived. You were exhausted and eager to see Cuddy. After finishing your urgent tasks, you made your way to Cuddy's office. With House's upcoming trial requiring your attention, you needed to meet with her to discuss the strategy and details of the case.

When you knocked on her door, Cuddy motioned for you to come in.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you?" Cuddy asked with a smile.

"Hi, Cuddy. I'm good, thanks. I wanted to discuss House's trial and see if we're all on the same page. I've just finished drafting all the arguments, possible responses, and so on. I'd like you to take a look," you said, taking a seat across from her.

Cuddy nodded. "Sure. I've prepared some additional documents that might be useful in the worst-case scenario."

You spent the next few hours reviewing the case details, strategizing, and discussing potential challenges ahead. Amidst the professional discussions, you briefly mentioned your recent encounter with House.

"Oh, he was particularly irritating today," you said with a smile. "He implied that my persuasive skills were just a façade and that I should thank my team more often, suggesting I used my feminine wiles to win."

Cuddy sighed. "House likes to push people's buttons, especially when he knows they've achieved something important. Don’t let him get to you. He’s just… House."

"I know," you replied. "But sometimes it’s really frustrating."

Cuddy smiled warmly. "You’re doing an excellent job. Don’t let his comments shake you."

After your meeting with Cuddy, you felt better prepared for House’s trial. You took the time to organize your files and review your preparations. Leaving the hospital, you felt confident and ready to face this new challenge, though a part of you remained apprehensive about what House might do during the trial.

When you got home, you took a moment to relax, appreciating the quiet of the evening. You knew the coming days would be intense, but you were ready for the challenge, buoyed by the support of your colleagues and friends. You found yourself reflecting on the afternoon meeting with Cuddy, her encouraging words echoing in your mind. You realized that you valued not only her professional support but also her personal presence. Perhaps she could become a good friend, although you knew she would never see you as more. Cameron was the only one who knew about your attraction to women, especially older ones, so you recognized Cuddy as your vulnerable spot.

On Saturday morning, an idea popped into your head. You remembered that Cuddy had a particular café she liked near the hospital. You decided to stop by and pick up her favorite coffee as a gesture of thanks for her support. Arriving at the café, you ordered two drinks and a pastry that you knew Cuddy liked. With the cups in hand, you headed towards the hospital, hoping that Cuddy would be in her office even on the weekend.

However, as you walked, you realized that giving the items directly to her might be too forward. An idea struck you, and you stopped by a flower shop to buy a bouquet. With the flowers in hand, you returned to the hospital and asked a nurse to deliver everything to Cuddy without mentioning your name. Fortunately, the nurse agreed and took care of your request.

When Cuddy received the coffee, pastry, and flowers, she immediately asked who had sent them. The nurse, respecting your wish for anonymity, provided a brief physical description. Cuddy quickly understood who the gesture was from, but it was too late for her to find you.

Back at home, you collapsed onto your bed, ready to enjoy the weekend. The days passed quietly with workouts, delicious meals, binge-watching shows, and a bit of work to stay on top of things. You felt relaxed and pleased to have made a thoughtful gesture for Cuddy. It was a step forward, and at worst, she might simply tell you she wasn’t interested in women. Unlike House, she wouldn’t insult or belittle people based on their feelings.

As you arrived at the hospital on Monday, your day off, you felt a mix of excitement and apprehension, curious about how Cuddy had reacted to your gesture. You took a deep breath before entering the building and headed towards your office. Shortly after arriving, you received a message from Cuddy asking you to join her in her office. Your heart raced as you made your way there, wondering what she would say.

Upon entering Cuddy's office, you found her sitting at her desk, a mysterious smile on her lips. She gestured for you to take a seat.

"Hello, Y/N. Thank you for the coffee and the flowers," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You felt a slight flush on your cheeks. "I just wanted to thank you for your support. It’s a small gesture to support House."

Cuddy nodded, still smiling. "It was very kind of you. I wasn’t expecting that."

You took a deep breath, feeling that now was the right moment to make the first move. "Cuddy, I’d really like us to spend more time together outside of work. Maybe dinner or something one evening?"

Cuddy looked at you, considering your proposal. "You know what? I’d like that. How about tonight, after work?"

A bright smile spread across your face, and you nodded enthusiastically. "That would be perfect. Thank you, Cuddy."

After your interaction, you left Cuddy’s office and saw Cameron waiting for you, looking slightly concerned. Since Cameron was the only one aware of your sexuality, you took the opportunity to explain the situation. She smiled warmly, congratulated you, and wished you good luck.

That evening, you met Cuddy at a cozy restaurant, the intimate and warm atmosphere fostering a deeper connection. You talked about everything and nothing, sharing anecdotes and laughter. The professional tension melted away, replaced by a natural camaraderie. At the end of the dinner, as you both walked to your cars, Cuddy turned to you, her eyes shining in the streetlamp light.

"This was really nice," she said softly. "I’m glad we did this."

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment and hope. "Me too. I’ve really enjoyed it."

As you parted ways, you felt a sense of optimism about where this might lead. You knew it was just the beginning, but it was a promising start.

"Thank you for the evening, Y/N. It’s been a long time since I had such a good time," Cuddy said softly, her smile warm and genuine.

You felt a pleasant warmth spread through your heart. "Me too, Cuddy. I’m really glad we did this."

There was a brief silence before, making a brave decision, she leaned in slightly and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Good night, Y/N."

She smiled at you, a tender glint in her eyes. "Good night, Cuddy. See you soon."

As she walked away, you were left momentarily stunned by her gesture. A kiss on the cheek? What was that supposed to mean? Was it just a friendly gesture or something more? You found yourself debating with your inner thoughts, trying to make sense of it. Frustrated with your own confusion, you decided to head to a nearby bar for a few drinks to clear your mind.

A few drinks turned into several, and by the time you stumbled back home, you were slightly tipsy. After a quick shower to wash away the remnants of the evening, you collapsed into bed. Despite your exhaustion, your mind replayed the evening over and over, unable to settle. The new level of your relationship with Cuddy had opened a door to unknown possibilities, and you were eager to see where it might lead.

The day of the trial arrived faster than expected. You knew it would be a challenging day, but with your recent experiences and the support of your colleagues, you felt prepared to face whatever lay ahead. As you entered the courtroom, you reminded yourself of the strength and confidence you had built over the past weeks. You could do this.

The courtroom was tense, but you focused on your preparations and the strategy you and Cuddy had developed. With each passing moment, you felt more centered and determined to deliver your best performance.

During a break in the trial, you caught a glimpse of Cuddy in the hallway. She gave you a reassuring nod, and you felt a surge of encouragement. Whatever the outcome, you knew you had given it your all.

The day of the trial arrived. Dr. Gregory House finds himself on trial for allegedly drugging a patient, Mr. Richard Moore, in order to have him undergo a series of medical tests without his consent. Although these tests ultimately revealed that Mr. Moore suffered from lupus, he claims to have no memory of the period during which the tests were performed, and he accuses House of having drugged and kidnapped him.

The trial began in a crowded courtroom, the case having attracted a lot of attention. The judge opened the proceedings, and the prosecution and defense attorneys presented their opening arguments. The prosecution attorney stood up and described in detail the charges brought against House, insisting on the psychological trauma suffered by Mr. Moore and the illegality of House's actions.

You stood up to present the defense arguments, immediately highlighting the lack of concrete evidence and the importance of the vital diagnosis obtained through the tests performed by House. You emphasized the absence of malicious intent and the life-saving nature of the intervention. Mr. Moore testified by describing his state of confusion and memory loss. He expressed his hatred towards House, claiming that he had been abducted and drugged against his will.

You began by sympathizing with Mr. Moore, acknowledging the pain and confusion he was experiencing. Then, you pointed out the inconsistencies in his account due to his fuzzy memory and highlighted the absence of tangible evidence. You asked him if he remembered specific moments when he might have been drugged, to which he answered negatively. House testified by explaining his actions from the medical point of view. He described the symptoms observed in Mr. Moore that had led him to suspect lupus and insisted that he had acted to save his life.

The prosecution attorney tried to show that House had exceeded his prerogatives, but you intervened regularly to object and protect House from biased questions. You had called several medical experts who confirmed that Mr. Moore's symptoms were consistent with lupus and that the early diagnosis had probably saved his life. They also explained that, without these tests, the lupus could have remained undiagnosed, putting Mr. Moore's life in serious danger. The prosecution attorney concluded by insisting on the lack of consent and the trauma experienced by Mr. Moore. He asked the jury to consider the violation of his client's rights.

You stood up for your closing argument, summarizing the key points: the lack of concrete evidence demonstrating that House had drugged Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore’s confusion and amnesia making his testimony unreliable, the absence of malicious intent on House's part, and finally, the vital importance of the lupus diagnosis obtained through the tests performed. You concluded by emphasizing that House had saved Mr. Moore's life and that his actions, although controversial, were guided by a legitimate medical concern.

After deliberations, the jury returned with a verdict. The judge spoke to announce the decision, "After examining the evidence and testimonies, the jury has concluded that the charges against Dr. Gregory House have not been proven beyond a reasonable doubt. Dr. House is therefore acquitted of all charges." Everyone was leaving, including House, Cuddy, Wilson, and yourself. You took the opportunity to step away from the crowd with them.

House turned to you with a smirk. "Well done, Y/N. I knew you'd rise to the occasion to defend the best doctor."

You felt relieved and proud of the work accomplished. "Thank you, House. Now, I hope you’ve learned your lesson and will be more careful in the future."

House shrugged. "We’ll see if I listened to the conversation."

You sighed, letting the stress go, satisfied with the outcome and ready to face the next challenges that House would present.

The month that followed was relatively pleasant. You had good times with Cameron and her friends, Foreman and Chase, outside of work. Evening outings, dinners, and lively conversations brought some joy to your routine. However, despite these good times, you felt a void every time you came home. Something was missing, a presence or a deeper connection. One evening, after yet another outing, you decided to take the bull by the horns. You invited Cameron to your place for a one-on-one discussion. Sitting in your living room, you revealed what you were feeling, hoping to find some clarity and perhaps some advice. To your surprise, Cameron began to smile and then to laugh softly. Intrigued and slightly puzzled by her reaction, you looked at her, searching for an explanation. "Why are you laughing?" you asked.

Cameron, still smiling, replied: "Don't worry, you'll understand in a few days. Trust me."

The next day, while you were immersed in your work at the office, your phone rang. On the other end of the line, a receptionist from a certain hospital where Cameron worked informed you that Dr. Lisa Cuddy wanted to see you. Intrigued and curious, you accepted the appointment, wondering what it could mean. On your way to the hospital, you decided to bring some coffees, one for yourself and one for Cuddy, hoping to create a relaxed atmosphere for your meeting.

Entering Cuddy's office, you were greeted by her professional yet warm smile. She thanked you for the coffee and invited you to sit down. After a few polite exchanges, she addressed the main topic of your meeting.

"Y/N, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to come here," she began. "House is once again involved in trouble. I was impressed by your defense in his last trial, and I would like to offer you the opportunity to become his official attorney."

You were stunned by the proposal. Becoming House's permanent attorney meant constant responsibility and frequent challenges, but it was also a unique opportunity.

Cuddy, noticing your hesitation, added: "I understand that this is an important decision. You can continue to manage your practice and only come here when necessary."

After a moment of reflection, you realized that this offer might address the void you were feeling. Accepting this role would allow you to continue practicing law while staying connected to a stimulating and dynamic environment. With renewed determination, you looked up at Cuddy and nodded. "Okay, I accept. I will be House's official attorney."

Leaving the hospital that day, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had just taken a major turn in your career, a turn that not only brought you closer to professional challenges but also to people you were beginning to consider close friends.

The following month promised to be full of surprises and new adventures, and you were ready to face them with new determination. After accepting Cuddy's offer, you found yourself often thinking about her. These thoughts were not purely professional; you realized that your feelings went beyond mere admiration. However, accepting these feelings was not easy for you. You had never really embraced your sexuality, and the prospect of being attracted to a woman, especially a colleague, deeply troubled you.

One evening, after a long day at work, Cameron came to visit you. She had noticed your distress and wanted to help you gain some clarity. You both settled comfortably in your living room, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

"You seem preoccupied lately," she said gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitated for a moment but decided to confide in her about your suppressed feelings for Cuddy. Cameron listened attentively, without judgment, and reassured you with her soothing, calming voice.

"You know, Y/N, it's not easy to accept certain things about oneself," she began. "But your feelings are natural. It's not a matter of gender; it's about love and connection."

She then suggested an idea to help you open up further. "How about coming to a karaoke night with me? It might help take your mind off things and allow you to relax a bit."

What you didn’t know was that Cameron had a more elaborate plan in mind. She wanted to give you an opportunity to get closer to Cuddy in a natural setting. After you agreed to the karaoke, she contacted Wilson to help set up an unexpected meeting.

"Wilson, I need your help," she said on the phone. "Can you invite Cuddy to a karaoke this weekend without telling her that Y/N will be there? I think it could help both of them."

Wilson, always eager to assist his friends, agreed enthusiastically. He knew how beneficial this meeting could be for both of you.

On Saturday evening, you prepared with a certain nervousness for the karaoke night. Cameron picked you up, and you both headed to the bar where the event was taking place. Upon entering, you were pleasantly surprised by the warm and relaxed atmosphere of the place. Meanwhile, Cuddy, persuaded by Wilson to come out for a pleasant evening, arrived shortly after you. She had no idea what awaited her.

As you sipped your drink and chatted with Cameron, you noticed Cuddy walking into the bar. Your heart leaped in your chest. You turned to Cameron, eyes wide. She gave you a knowing wink.

"Relax," she whispered. "Enjoy the evening."

Wilson approached Cuddy and explained that he had invited someone else she might find interesting. He discreetly pointed in your direction. Cuddy made her way over, a curious smile on her lips.

"Good evening, Y/N, Cameron," she said as she joined your table. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

As the evening progressed, the songs played, laughter erupted, and the atmosphere became increasingly relaxed. You felt your barriers gradually melting away, encouraged by Cameron's reassuring presence and Cuddy's warm attention.

At one point, Cuddy suggested that you sing a duet. The song choice was a soft and melodic ballad, "Creep" by Radiohead, which brought you even closer together. As you sang side by side, you exchanged glances and smiles that spoke volumes. Of course, Cameron wouldn’t let this slip by and later made you sing "Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge. Even during the karaoke session, she noticed your lingering glances towards Cuddy during the chorus, which said a lot.

The karaoke night was a success. Thanks to Cameron and her ingenious plan, you had the opportunity to get closer to Cuddy in a relaxed and friendly setting. When you returned home that night, you felt more at peace with yourself and more confident about your feelings. Cameron had given you the push you needed to embrace who you were and what you felt. Now, you were ready to explore this new dimension of your life with greater serenity and openness, though you had to be cautious about House finding out. You weren’t ready yet to discuss this or face any potential insults from him.

The days following the karaoke night were marked by a subtle but significant change. Your interactions with Cuddy became more frequent, not only due to hospital legal matters but also through spontaneous moments of camaraderie. You were getting to know each other beyond the professional setting, and each conversation strengthened this budding connection. Each morning, you developed the habit of bringing Cuddy a coffee before starting your day, spending much more time at the hospital than at your office. It was a simple but meaningful gesture that quickly became a ritual for both of you. You often found yourselves in her office discussing current hospital affairs, but these moments also turned into opportunities to share personal anecdotes and enjoy each other's company.

One morning, while sipping her coffee, Cuddy gave you a grateful look. “You know, Y/N, these little moments of respite really make a difference in my day. It helps me forget that House is here and working for me.”

You smiled, touched by her words. “For me too, Lisa... Cuddy.”

Your exchanges weren’t limited to the morning coffees. Lunches also became an opportunity to get closer. Whether at the hospital cafeteria or in a small neighborhood restaurant, every shared meal strengthened your bond. You spent much less time with the trio, but it apparently didn’t bother them.

One day, while enjoying a salad at a sunny café, Cuddy asked you an unexpected question. “How did you decide to become a lawyer?” Surprised by the question but pleased by her interest, you shared your journey, including the impact of your cousin's death, the challenges you had overcome, and the motivations that led you to choose this career. Cuddy listened intently, her eyes expressing deep curiosity and sincere respect.

There were also times when your days extended beyond office hours. Sometimes, you would go for a drink after work, sharing moments of relaxation where professional concerns gave way to lighter and more intimate conversations. One evening, in particular, stood out. After a particularly stressful day, Cuddy suggested unwinding at a cocktail bar near the hospital. Sitting at the counter, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the events of the day fade with each sip of your drink.

“Sometimes, I wonder how you manage to stay so calm and composed, even though you’re very authoritative,” you said, observing Cuddy.

She chuckled softly. “It’s a façade, believe me. But having friends and moments like these really helps.”

As the weeks passed, you developed a relationship of mutual trust. Cuddy confided in you about the challenges of her position as hospital director, and you found in her a valuable listener for your own concerns. This dynamic of reciprocal support was new and comforting for you.

One afternoon, after returning from the courthouse, you found Cuddy sitting at her desk, visibly exhausted. Without a word, you took a seat across from her and pulled out a small box of chocolates you had bought with her in mind.

“For a little pick-me-up,” you said with a smile.

Cuddy looked up, clearly touched by your gesture. “You’re my savior, love. Thank you.”

The word “love” resonated within you like a gentle echo. You felt your cheeks flush slightly. This endearing nickname, filled with tenderness and affection, stirred feelings you had tried to suppress. Your heart quickened, and you suddenly became acutely aware of every small detail of the situation: the soft light in the office, Cuddy’s sincere gaze, and the pleasant warmth of the chocolates in your hands. Trying to control your emotions, you responded with a slightly trembling but sincere voice, “I… I’m glad you liked it, Lisa. You do so much for everyone here, it’s only natural for someone to take care of you too.”

Cuddy smiled and briefly took your hand, a simple yet deeply meaningful gesture. “Thank you, really.”

After this exchange, you spent the rest of the day in a state of deep reflection. This sweet nickname and Cuddy’s attention only reinforced the feelings you were beginning to understand and accept. You found yourself smiling for no apparent reason, replaying that moment over and over in your mind.

In the evening, you decided to talk to Cameron about what you had felt. She listened attentively, her gaze full of understanding.

"You see, Y/N," she said gently, "sometimes you just have to let things happen. Cuddy really values you, and it seems she’s starting to feel something for you too. There’s nothing wrong with exploring these feelings."

You nodded, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness. "Yes, you're right. I suppose I just need to be patient and see how things develop."

In the following days, you continued to offer your support to Cuddy, and she did the same for you. Each exchange, each gesture of affection reinforced your bond. The nickname "love" became a kind of shared secret, a constant reminder of the growing affection between you.

In the end, you realized that these feelings, although unsettling at first, were a natural part of your life. And with Cameron’s support and the patience you were showing, you knew you were on the right path to building something beautiful and lasting with Cuddy. As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself eagerly anticipating each meeting with Cuddy. She had become more than just a colleague or client; she had become a cherished friend, and perhaps, something more.

For now, you allowed yourself to be carried along by this new adventure, savoring each moment and letting things evolve naturally. The future remained uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you felt ready to face it, with an open heart and a serene mind.

Everything was going well between you and Cuddy. The morning exchanges, the lunches, the moments of complicity were multiplying. You felt increasingly comfortable with your feelings, encouraged by Cameron’s advice and Cuddy’s kindness. But one day, an unexpected event was about to turn everything upside down. It was an ordinary day until an accident occurred in the hospital. A cart full of files toppled over in the hallway, and among the scattered papers, a personal note from Cuddy to you fell to the ground. House, passing by by chance, picked up the note before you could react. That evening, as you were finishing your day, you were intercepted by House in a deserted corridor. He had a smug grin plastered on his face and the note in hand.

“So, Y/N, having fun with Cuddy?” he started, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You felt your stomach knot. “Give me that, House. It’s none of your business.”

He waved the note in front of you, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, but it becomes my business when you drag your romantic issues into MY hospital.”

House moved closer, his expression hardening. “Seriously, do you think she sees you as anything more than a distraction? A little toy to pass the time?” He snickered. “You’re pathetic, trailing around like a puppy craving attention.”

You felt anger rising in you, but also a chilling fear. “That’s not true, House. You don’t know anything.” He burst into laughter, a cold and cruel laugh. “Oh, I know more than you imagine. Cuddy’s playing with you, and you’re too stupid to realize it. You think she loves you?” His tone grew more venomous. “She keeps you around for her little emotional emergencies. She doesn’t need you; she doesn’t need anyone.”

House stepped back slightly, looking you up and down. “Seriously, do you think someone like you could interest her? She could have anyone, and she’d choose a pathetic, lost lawyer? You’re laughable.”

Each word felt like a punch. You wanted to defend yourself, but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Look at yourself,” House continued. “A poor girl seeking affection. You’re a walking failure, trash no one wants. And when Cuddy’s had enough of you, she’ll toss you away like an old rag.”

These words hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt your eyes welling up with tears, but you refused to let them fall in front of him. Summoning all the courage you could muster, you took a step forward.

"You’re wrong, House. What Cuddy and I have is real. What you say doesn’t change that."

He looked you over for a moment, then shrugged indifferently. "Believe what you want. But remember my words when she dumps you."

House turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, emotions bubbling inside you.

You stood there, trembling with anger and pain, House’s cruel words echoing in your mind. But deep down, you knew you had to stay strong. No matter what he said, you had feelings for Cuddy and you had to fight for them. This brutal confrontation with House was just another hurdle to overcome, and with the support of Cuddy and Cameron, you knew you could get through it.

After the confrontation with House, you felt devastated and overwhelmed by emotions. You knew you couldn’t go home in this state. You headed up to the hospital roof, a quiet place where you could think and collect yourself. Sitting on a bench, you let the tears flow, recalling every venomous word House had said. You knew he had a talent for hitting where it hurt, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Doubts crept into your mind, shaking your confidence in yourself and in your relationship with Cuddy.

After a few minutes of solitude, you took out your phone and dialed Cameron’s number. She had always been a valuable support for you, and you knew she would find the right words to comfort you.

"Cameron, it’s Y/N. I need to talk. Can you come up to the roof of the hospital?" you said, your voice trembling.

“I'm coming right away,” she replied, her tone full of concern.

A few minutes later, Cameron arrived on the roof, her face showing deep worry. She sat down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

You told her everything, from the accident that allowed House to find the note to his cruel and hurtful remarks. Cameron listened attentively, her expression hardening as you spoke.

“House can be really mean sometimes,” she said finally. “But he doesn’t know anything about what you truly feel for Cuddy, or what Cuddy feels for you. Don’t let him tear you down.”

Cameron's words provided some comfort. She was right. House had no right to judge your relationship with Cuddy, and he knew nothing about what you shared. You felt a bit stronger, ready to face the situation with more clarity. Unfortunately, you decided not to tell Cuddy, not wanting to disturb her or seem strange. So you distanced yourself a bit until she came to see you, at which point you had no choice but to talk to her and explain EVERYTHING. You hoped that this conversation would further strengthen your bond. You took a deep breath and sat down across from her.

“I need to talk to you about something that happened a few days ago.”

You told her everything, from the accident with the files to the confrontation with House. Cuddy listened attentively, her expression growing more serious.

“House really crossed the line this time,” she said finally, anger evident in her voice. “I’m sorry you had to endure that, but next time, come to me about it.”

You nodded. “I don’t want to let his words affect us. I really care about you, Lisa.”

Cuddy smiled gently and took your hand in hers. "Me too, Y/N. Don’t let House make you doubt what we have."

The conversation with Cuddy gave you a renewed sense of determination. No matter what House said or did, you were resolved to fight for this relationship. With Cuddy and Cameron’s support, you knew you could overcome obstacles and continue building something beautiful and lasting.

In the following days, you felt stronger and more determined than ever. You continued to work hard, support Cuddy, and grow closer to her. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond, and you knew you were on the right path toward something truly special. The road ahead was still long, but with Cuddy by your side, you felt ready to face any challenges. You were determined not to let House’s cruel words bring you down and to keep moving forward, day by day.

Your relationship with Cuddy improved even more over the weeks. Conversations became more intimate, and shared moments grew more significant. During meetings and coffee breaks, you exchanged knowing glances that often spoke louder than words. Cuddy sometimes made thoughtful gestures, like bringing you your favorite coffee or carving out time in her busy schedule to chat. Cameron, true to her playful nature, never missed an opportunity to highlight these little moments. "So, did you have your daily tête-à-tête with Cuddy?" she would say with a mischievous wink. Each time, you would blush slightly, but you also appreciated these teases that made your feelings seem even more real and tangible.

One day, you found yourself confronting House in his office. The tension was palpable. House was particularly irritable that day, and you had heard about his ruthless behavior towards your patients, especially your cousin. Your cousin had come to the hospital with severe abdominal pain, and House, in a fit of personal anger and contempt, had delayed the necessary tests.

"You should behave better for someone who’s a total jerk. How could you let my cousin die without even trying to save him years ago just because you had a grudge against me?" you exploded, entering House’s office without knocking.

House looked up from his desk, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "Oh, so you’re here to mourn poor patients? What a charitable person you are! You’re here to blame me? Maybe if your cousin hadn’t been so stupid, he’d still be alive."

Those words were the last straw. You felt a searing rage rise within you. "How dare you? You don’t even know what you’ve done. You were so consumed by your own anger and selfishness that you didn’t even take the time to treat him properly!"

House stood up from his chair, his face hardening. "Your cousin was a hopeless case anyway. Maybe if he hadn’t been so weak, he would have survived."

You clenched your fists, your voice trembling with fury and pain. "My cousin was Cameron’s husband!"

The words thundered through the room, and only after they left your mouth did you regret it; you had promised to keep that a secret. House froze for a few seconds, his eyes widening in shock. For once, he seemed unsettled, as if a brutal truth had just hit him in the face. At the same moment, Cameron was passing by House’s office. She had stopped, hearing the raised voices inside. When she heard your declaration, she carefully opened the door, her eyes shifting from you to House, a silent pain on her face.

House quickly regained his composure, though his tone was sharper than ever. "Oh, I see. So you’re here to whine because your cousin didn’t survive? Newsflash, Y/N, people die. This is a hospital, not a fairy tale."

Cameron entered the room, her face pale but determined. "House, that's enough."

He turned his gaze toward her, a cruel smile on his lips. "Oh, look who’s joining the party. Are you here to support your grieving cousin? It’s touching, but he’s not coming back after all these years."

You felt tears welling up, but you refused to let them fall, and the urge to punch him was overwhelming. "You’re a monster, House. You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone so close because you’re a lifeless jerk whom nobody likes."

House shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Loss is a part of life, sweetheart. Get used to it, because I don’t sleep with my boss for bonuses."

Seeing you raising your arm toward House in anger, Cameron stepped in, grabbing you by the arm. "Come on, Y/N, let’s get out of here. He doesn’t deserve you getting worked up like this."

You left House’s office, still trembling with rage and sadness. Cameron embraced you, offering the silent support you desperately needed. You moved away from that place of conflict, leaving House behind with his arrogance and insensitivity. This painful confrontation further strengthened your bond with Cameron. She understood your pain better than anyone and shared your anger toward House. Together, you found comfort in each other’s support, growing even closer through this difficult ordeal.

Even though Cameron continued to have feelings for House despite learning about his refusal to treat her husband’s case, you both relied on each other. That evening, reflecting on the confrontation, you realized how much you cared for Cuddy and Cameron. Their unconditional support was an anchor in the storm of your emotions, and despite House’s cruelty, you were surrounded by people who truly cared about you. You took a deep breath, determined to continue fighting for your loved ones, to overcome obstacles, and not to let House’s nastiness destroy you.

The days following that confrontation were emotionally charged. The tension between you and House was palpable, but you could always count on Cameron for support. Interactions with Cuddy became even more precious, her smiles and soothing words helping to ease the weight of your emotions. Your relationship with Cuddy was deepening. One afternoon, as you were working in your office, you received a message from her: "Need a coffee break? Join me in my office."

You smiled and headed to her office. When you arrived, you found her seated with two cups of coffee and a box of macarons. "I thought we might need these treats to get through the day," she said, handing you a cup. You chatted about various topics, sharing anecdotes and laughter. Cuddy seemed more relaxed in your company, and you realized that these moments had become essential to you.

One evening, after work, Cameron invited you over to her place to talk. Sitting on her couch with a glass of wine in hand, she brought up a sensitive subject. "You know,Y/N, I’ve noticed that you’re getting quite close to Cuddy. It’s wonderful to see that, but I sense something is holding you back."

You looked down, hesitant to admit your repressed feelings. "Cameron, I... I think I have feelings for her, but I don’t know how to handle them. I’ve never accepted being a lesbian."

Cameron looked at you with compassion. "There’s nothing wrong with being who you are. You deserve to be happy, and if Cuddy makes you happy, you should tell her. Take your time, but don’t let fear stop you from living fully." You simply nodded, and the evening continued at her place until you fell asleep in front of a movie with her.

After a long day at work, you decided to go to Cuddy’s office to discuss some important points related to a file. Upon entering her office, you found her organizing papers, her focus on the work in front of her. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the soft lighting in the office created a pleasant ambiance.

You lightly knocked on the door before entering. "Hi, Cuddy. I had a few questions regarding our file."

Cuddy looked up, a smile forming on her lips. "Ah, Y/N. I always wonder why important questions seem to come at the end of the day."

You smiled and placed the documents on her desk. "Maybe it’s to give you a chance to test your multitasking skills."

Cuddy pretended to look outraged. "Oh, I see. So now I’m expected to juggle medical emergencies and your questions. Why not throw in some cannonballs while we’re at it?"

You laughed, appreciating the light tone of the conversation. "Well, you’re the hospital director. I suppose juggling cannonballs is part of the job description."

Cuddy rolled her eyes with a smile. "I guess I haven’t received that manual yet. But seriously, what’s the issue with this file?"

You took a deep breath and decided to make a slightly bolder comment with a touch of humor. "Well, I just wanted to check if your problem-solving superpower is as effective outside of the office."

Cuddy leaned forward, her gaze amused. "Oh, really? And what would my superpower be, according to you?"

You tilted your head with a mischievous smile. "You know, the ability to handle crises and make things simpler even when they seem impossible. But I have to admit, you might also be a coffee superhero, considering how you’re always full of energy."

Cuddy burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Oh, you're incorrigible. But if you insist, I suppose I should also accept the compliments on my ability to make the perfect coffee."

You nodded with a knowing smile. "Absolutely. I’m ready to give you a 10 out of 10 for your caffeine skills, in addition to your management talents."

Cuddy gave you a playful look before picking up a coffee cup from her desk. "In that case, it looks like I’ll have to make you a special coffee to reward you for your praise."

You thanked Cuddy with a smile, and the conversation took on an even more relaxed and friendly tone. Moments of teasing like this were becoming increasingly common, strengthening the bond between you. With her humor and kindness, Cuddy had become a key pillar in your daily life, making even the busiest days more enjoyable. The discussion continued in a light-hearted manner, filled with laughter and friendly exchanges. You left Cuddy’s office with a sense of well-being, ready to face the rest of the day with a smile on your lips.

A few days after the heartfelt conversation in the office, you both had taken a day off together. Cuddy had used the opportunity to invite you to her home, away from the constraints of work and regular responsibilities. It had been a while since you had the chance to spend an evening together without thinking about your professional obligations.

As you entered Cuddy’s house, you immediately felt a warm and inviting atmosphere. The interior was impeccably decorated with personal touches, creating an ambiance of comfort and tranquility.

Cuddy greeted you with a sincere smile, her presence radiating a soothing warmth. "Welcome to my home, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here. Make yourself comfortable; dinner is almost ready."

You settled at the table, where a homemade meal awaited you. The conversation during dinner was smooth and enjoyable, far removed from the usual work topics. You exchanged memories, funny anecdotes, and personal stories. Cuddy shared tales from her childhood, while you recounted amusing moments from your own life. Laughter filled the room, and the barriers between you seemed to dissolve with each passing moment.

Cuddy, in her role as the perfect host, was attentive and engaged. "Do you remember the time I tried to cook a meal for a birthday party, and everything ended up burning?" she asked, laughing.

You nodded with a smile. "Yes, I remember! I was there, and it was a complete disaster, but we had so much fun that night."

Once dinner was over and the dishes were put away, Cuddy suggested watching a movie. "I’ve heard that Die Hard is pretty good. What do you think?"

Your face lit up at the idea of watching a classic film. "Absolutely, I love that movie!"

Cuddy headed to the kitchen to prepare some popcorn, while you made yourself comfortable in the living room. She returned with a large bowl of popcorn and settled next to you on the couch. You both got cozy, and the relaxed atmosphere contrasted with the usual work tensions.

As you watched Die Hard, the film captured your attention with its thrilling action, suspense, and humor. Cuddy occasionally commented on the scenes, making amusing observations about the absurd situations and exaggerated characters.

"See that moment when he jumps through the windows?" she said with a laugh. "I’m sure we’ve all dreamed of doing that during a stressful day at work."

You burst into laughter, sharing her amusement. "Absolutely, and then there are always those moments where you wonder how they manage to avoid serious injuries."

You continued to comment on the movie, your rapport growing as the evening progressed. Laughter and playful banter made the night enjoyable and light-hearted, providing a welcome break from everyday concerns. When the film ended, you both remained on the couch for a while, discussing your favorite scenes and the funniest moments. The atmosphere was both relaxed and intimate, deepening the bond between you.

Cuddy got up to turn off the TV, then turned to you with a gentle smile. "I hope you had a good evening. I really enjoyed this time together."

You responded with sincerity. "I did too; it was a perfect evening. Thank you for inviting me."

She approached you softly and gave you a friendly hug. "I’m glad you came. I think we should do this more often."

You spent a little more time chatting before saying goodnight. As you left Cuddy’s house, you felt calm and happy, with a newfound appreciation for the growing connection between you. The evening had not only strengthened your bond but also deepened the budding feelings you had for each other. You sat in your car for a few minutes, reflecting on what you truly felt. The night had been perfect, but something crucial was missing for you to be completely at peace. Finally, you took a deep breath, got out of the car, and headed back to Cuddy’s door. As you rang the doorbell, you felt your heart race, each step bringing you closer to your truth. Cuddy answered, visibly surprised to see you return.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, her eyes showing both confusion and concern.

You hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "You know, Cuddy… Lisa, I can’t leave without telling you something important. I… I love you more than just as a friend. I have feelings for you."

Cuddy looked at you attentively, surprise evident in her eyes. "Oh… I…"

"It’s been almost a year since we’ve known each other, and I can’t let this chance slip by, even if I’m not completely sure about embracing being gay," you continued, your heart pounding. "I’m willing to risk being rejected by you. I love you, Lisa Cuddy."

Cuddy remained silent for a moment, her eyes searching yours with intensity. Her face softened slightly, but her eyes remained serious. "Y/N, I want to believe you. But you need to be honest with yourself and with me. Are you really ready to face your own feelings?"

She sighed softly and placed a comforting hand on your cheek, her touch bringing a soothing warmth. "I just want to protect you, Y/N. So, be careful… okay?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and concern at her understanding. "Thank you, Lisa, for understanding my feelings."

Cuddy looked at you intensely, her eyes betraying a depth of emotion. "Y/N, you know I care about you… more than you realize."

Before you could react or say anything further, Cuddy leaned in slowly and kissed you. The kiss was both tender and intense, filled with the feelings you had both been holding back. You stood there for a moment, surprised and motionless, before responding timidly. Your hands instinctively found their way around Cuddy's neck, while her lips were comforting and burning with passion.

The kiss deepened, Cuddy intensifying it with a tenderness and fervor that expressed everything she had wanted to say without words. The sensation was both familiar and new, awakening complex emotions within you. Sensing your hesitant yet sincere response, Cuddy continued the kiss, trying to convey all she had never been able to express aloud. When you finally separated, you were breathing slightly heavily, your eyes shining with confusion and desire. With her forehead resting against yours, Cuddy whispered softly, "Think carefully about what you want, Y/N. I will always be here for you."

You felt torn between the familiarity of the gesture and the novelty of the emotions it stirred within you. Cuddy had opened a door to a new dimension of your relationship, offering both comfort and upcoming challenges. As you gently parted from Cuddy, you left the door open for deeper reflection on what you truly wanted, all while appreciating the sincere affection and patience she was showing you.

After the emotional kiss with Cuddy, you lingered on her doorstep for a moment, your mind full of confusing thoughts and conflicting feelings. You felt both comforted and unsettled by the depth of affection Cuddy had expressed, and the intensity of the moment continued to resonate within you. Cuddy, with a reassuring gesture, allowed you the time to process what had just happened.

The following days were marked by intense introspection. You spent a lot of time reflecting on your feelings for Cuddy and what they meant for you. The nature of your emotions seemed increasingly clear, but you still had to face personal questions about your identity and desires. While respecting your space, Cuddy made efforts to remain available and open. She sent friendly messages to check in and suggested informal get-togethers to discuss anything but your recent exchanges. These moments were light-hearted, allowing you to feel at ease while exploring your own feelings.

Despite the emotional storm in your personal life, work continued. You remained focused on your tasks, but it was inevitable that the tension between you and Cuddy became a topic of discussion outside the professional sphere. Colleagues and friends, including Cameron, noticed the change in your way of working and interacting with Cuddy, but you preferred to keep the details private.

One day, as you were working in your office, absorbed in preparing a file, House burst in, his usual nonchalant demeanor hiding a mischievous curiosity.

"So, how's it going with Cuddy?" he asked with a false lightness, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You looked up, feeling a wave of discomfort. "I’d prefer not to talk about it, House."

House, unperturbed, continued. "Oh, I see. You're a bit smitten, aren't you? You know, there's something quite pathetic about desperately seeking approval."

Frustrated by his insinuations, you retorted, "And what does that have to do with you, House? Why are you so interested? You've never been able to maintain a decent relationship. So what do you really know about what I’m feeling?"

House, visibly amused by your reaction, crossed his arms and leaned slightly toward you. "Oh, I see. The truth bothers you. Maybe you need to remind yourself that you're nothing more than a mere pawn in the grand game of human emotions. And if you're looking for love advice, I might be the last person you should ask."

You felt a wave of anger rise within you, unable to endure his biting sarcasm. "You don’t know anything about me or what I’m feeling. Maybe you just enjoy playing the villain to feel superior. You don’t understand real emotions."

Despite his impassive appearance, House seemed slightly surprised by the intensity of your reaction. He took a step back, crossing his arms with a cynical smile still present on his face. "Oh, I see this touches you more than I thought."

He leaned in again, his eyes glinting with challenge. "Maybe I'm a bit too blunt for your taste. But don’t worry, I'm not here to judge you. I'm just here to remind people that the world isn't a warm and comforting place, no matter what they’d like to believe."

The intensity of the confrontation began to wane. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the internal storm. "Listen, House, I don’t want to continue this discussion if it’s going nowhere. I’m just tired of these word games and constant sarcasm. Maybe we should just forget this conversation and move on."

Seeing that the argument wouldn’t lead to anything constructive, House nodded with a smirking yet slightly more conciliatory expression. "Alright, I see you want to end this game. We’ll forget it. After all, it’s your right. But keep in mind that truths are often hard to accept."

You left House’s office with a sense of relief mixed with fatigue. The confrontation had been draining, but it had brought to light emotions and thoughts that you had kept buried. As you exited the hospital, you tried to relax, reminding yourself that sometimes the best thing to do was to let go and not be carried away by provocations. In the days that followed, the tension between you and House gradually dissipated. Although the clash left a certain bitterness, you continued to work together professionally. House, while still sarcastic and abrasive, seemed less inclined to push things further after the confrontation. Cameron and Cuddy, noticing the change in your mood and the impact of the confrontation, showed their support. Cameron, always attentive, made sure you were doing okay and offered moments of comfort.

The following Monday, you were still affected by the confrontation with House. Even though the conflict had ended on a more conciliatory note, it had left emotional scars. However, the week started on a positive note with the constant support of Cameron and Cuddy. Seeing their kindness and attention brought you relief. Cameron, always concerned for your well-being, suggested joining her for an outing to take your mind off things. You spent a pleasant evening together, talking and laughing, which helped lighten your spirit.

The following days were dedicated to reconciliation with House. Although his mannerisms remained sarcastic and sometimes abrasive, he seemed to have toned down his aggression after your confrontation. You continued to work together, but the atmosphere was slightly less tense. House, while staying true to his usual style, no longer pushed the provocations as far as he had before. On your part, you focused on your work, striving to maintain a professional attitude despite past tensions.

On Friday evening, after a busy week, you found unexpected comfort in joining Cuddy for dinner. She had taken the time to prepare something special for the two of you, and the evening unfolded in a soothing atmosphere. You talked about everything and nothing, avoiding work topics and focusing on your relationship. Moments of laughter and sharing strengthened the bond between you, momentarily making you forget the week’s stresses.

The weekend brought a new opportunity to deepen your relationship with Cuddy. She suggested organizing a special activity for the two of you. It turned into a full day of exploring a local market, sampling delicious foods, and enjoying light-hearted moments. The activity allowed you to discover more about each other outside the professional context and to strengthen your connection. You spent time strolling, discussing your dreams and ambitions, and supporting each other in your respective projects. This day reinforced the idea that you could be not only professional partners but also companions in life.

On Sunday, after a relaxing weekend, you found a moment for a more serious conversation. Cuddy, aware of the depth of your feelings, expressed her desire to understand and clarify what you both wanted from your relationship. You discussed openly your expectations and fears. Cuddy, always attentive and caring, encouraged you to be honest with yourself and with her. You talked about the potential challenges you might face and how to overcome them together. This discussion strengthened your connection, allowing you to establish a solid foundation for your budding relationship.

When you returned to work the following Monday, the atmosphere between you was imbued with a new harmony. You had managed to move past the tensions of the previous week and establish a deeper connection. The mutual support and shared moments had clarified your feelings and allowed you to envision a future together with more serenity. Although work remained demanding and sometimes stressful, your interactions with Cuddy were now marked by a deeper understanding and growing camaraderie. You could work side by side with a sense of mutual support, which improved not only your personal relationship but also your professional effectiveness.

The initial tension had dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual support that was felt in every aspect of your life.

One Friday evening, after a particularly grueling day at the hospital, Cuddy invited you to her home for dinner. You had started spending more time together outside of work, but that evening had a special significance. Upon entering her house, you immediately noticed the warm and welcoming atmosphere she had created. The table was beautifully set, and the delicious smell of a homemade meal filled the air.

"I wanted tonight to be special," she said with a smile. "We’ve been through a lot lately, and I think it’s time to talk about what we really feel."

You nodded, feeling your heart race at the thought of this important conversation. You sat down at the table, sharing a delicious meal while discussing your lives, hopes, and dreams. The atmosphere was relaxed, and simply being in Cuddy’s presence made you feel at home.

After dinner, you settled on the couch with a glass of wine. Cuddy looked at you with an expression that was both tender and determined.

"Y/N, I care about you a lot. More than I realized at the beginning. And I think we should make our relationship official. Not just for us, but also for others."

You remained silent for a moment, letting her words resonate within you. You knew it was the right time to be honest and open your heart. "Lisa, I feel the same way. You've become an essential part of my life, and I want everyone to know how much you mean to me."

Cuddy smiled, visibly moved by your words. She took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Then let's do it. Let's be together, officially. No matter what others think, we know what we want."

The following Monday, you decided to go public with your relationship. Arriving at the hospital, you both felt nervous but determined. Cuddy, as the hospital director, took the initiative to make the announcement during the weekly staff meeting. "Good morning, everyone. Before we start the meeting, I’d like to share some personal news. Y/N and I are together."

There was a moment of silence, followed by murmurs among the staff. Then, Cameron was the first to stand up and applaud, soon followed by other colleagues. Even House, though surprised, gave a wry smile, acknowledging the strength of your decision.

The person you thought least likely to be understanding spoke up. "Well, it was about time something interesting happened around here. Congratulations, you two." Cuddy looked at House after his words, wondering how much Vicodin he had taken, but he simply shrugged before leaving.

With the announcement of your relationship, you felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders. The reactions were mostly positive, and even those who were initially skeptical eventually accepted your love. Life at the hospital continued, but now you could be yourselves without fear or shame. The following days were marked by a constant stream of support from colleagues and friends. You received congratulatory messages, dinner invitations, and even small gestures from those who were happy for you.

One evening, as you held Cuddy's hand, you realized how much your life had changed since you had met her. The love you shared was not just a source of happiness, but also a force that pushed you to be better and face challenges together. You knew that obstacles would still arise, but as a couple, you were ready to overcome them. The official recognition of your relationship marked the beginning of a new era, where love, respect, and mutual understanding would be the foundations of your shared life.

After making your relationship official, the first few months were filled with moments of discovery and intimacy. You were getting to know each other on a more personal level, sharing quiet weekends, movie nights, and intimate dinners. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond.

To escape the hustle and bustle of the hospital, you enjoyed spending weekends at a small country house that Cuddy occasionally rented. These moments away from everything, surrounded by nature, were precious to both of you. They allowed you to relax and focus on each other, away from the demands of your daily lives.

She loved your sensitive parts, loved how you responded to the lightest touch with the most lustful moans, and how your skin prickled with goosebumps, a whine leaving your lips.

And then she kneeled on the floor, her palms caressing the bare skin of your legs, slow and light, until you could feel them on your thighs. "My love, lift your hips for me." You didn’t have to ask why because the moment you obliged, you felt her fingers hook the waistband of your shorts and pull them with ease.

Now exposed, you tried to bring your legs together to somehow conceal what was in between your thighs, but her strong hands parted them, a gasp falling from your lips. “Lisa.” You whispered, feeling the ache when her breath stroked the inside of your thighs. She was close, and you moaned. You had never been teased like this.

“Baby, please.”

“Keep it together, love.” It was cruel, but you knew she only meant you had to beg.

“Baby, I need you. Please.”

From where she kneeled, your center was vividly glistening, too aroused for her, and she took massive pleasure from how she could make you so wet without even touching you like you wanted her to. The thoughts were gone when you felt her weight dipping the bed again, and without preamble, you felt the tip of her tongue toying with the length of your slit, felt her hand directing your leg above her bare shoulder. She must have taken her robe off.

“Fuck!” you hissed, her lips wrapping around your clit, “Lisa...ahh—” it was a filthy, filthy moan that drove the woman crazy. “Baby—” your breath hitched, feeling her tongue enter your cunt. She had to keep hold of your hips from bucking, a tight grip that would bruise later.

Each movement of her tongue sent waves of pleasure through your body, your fingers tangling in her hair as she skillfully worked you. You could feel the pressure building, the need for release growing with each passing second. Her grip tightened, ensuring you stayed in place as she drove you closer to the edge.

“Lisa, please,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her response was to intensify her efforts, her tongue delving deeper, her lips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin. The sensation was overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the tension coiling within you, ready to snap at any moment.

“Come for me, love,” she murmured against your skin, the vibration of her words sending you over the edge. Your body arched, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as the orgasm washed over you, waves of pure bliss radiating from your core.

She continued her ministrations, drawing out your pleasure until you were left trembling, spent and satisfied. Slowly, she withdrew, planting gentle kisses on your thighs as you came down from your high. Your breathing slowed, the aftershocks of pleasure leaving you in a state of contentment.

“Lisa,” you breathed, your voice filled with gratitude and affection.

She smiled up at you, her eyes warm and loving. “I love you,” she said simply, her hand caressing your cheek. You reached down, pulling her up to join you on the bed. “I love you too,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around her. In that moment, everything felt perfect, your connection deeper than ever before. As you lay there, holding each other, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

And it continued, except that her behavior changed over time. You never would have thought she was jealous until the day a nurse made advances toward you in front of her. You couldn't blame the nurse, as he was new and didn't know yet. That evening, however, she made it clear that you were HER'S.

This time, Lisa decided to take control completely. Her eyes were dark with desire as she commanded, "Strip."

Your hands trembled slightly as you removed your clothes, standing vulnerable before her. She watched every movement with an intensity that made you shiver. Once you were fully exposed, she guided you to the bed, her touch firm and authoritative.

"Lie down," she instructed, her voice leaving no room for hesitation.

You obeyed, lying back on the bed as she climbed on top of you, her knees straddling your waist. Her eyes bored into yours, a smirk playing on her lips. "You belong to me tonight," she whispered, her voice sending shivers down your spine.

Without warning, she grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. The dominance in her actions made your breath hitch, your body responding instantly to her control. "Don't move unless I tell you to," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this," she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. "How much I’ve wanted to have you completely at my mercy."

You could only moan in response, the sound muffled by the intensity of your own desire. Lisa’s hands roamed over your body, her touch both gentle and commanding. She knew exactly where to touch, where to tease, and where to press to elicit the most desperate moans from you.

Her lips followed the path of her hands, kissing and nibbling at your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she reached your breasts, she paused, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Do you want me to touch you here?" she asked, her fingers hovering just above your nipple.

"Yes, please," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

She chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. "Good," she said, finally lowering her mouth to take your nipple into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. The sensation made you arch your back, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips.

She continued to tease and torment you, her mouth and hands working in tandem to drive you wild. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, she pulled back, her eyes locking onto yours. "I want to hear you beg for it," she said, her voice low and commanding.

"Please, Lisa," you moaned, your body aching with need. "I need you. Please."

A satisfied smile curved her lips as she finally moved lower, her fingers trailing down your abdomen to your thighs. She spread your legs wide, her eyes drinking in the sight of your arousal. "You're so wet for me," she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, her mouth was on you, her tongue lapping at your folds with an intensity that made you cry out. Her hands held your hips firmly in place, preventing you from bucking against her mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with each flick of her tongue and each gentle bite.

She knew exactly how to push you to the edge, bringing you to the brink of orgasm before pulling back, leaving you gasping and trembling. "Not yet," she said, her voice a tantalizing tease. "I want you to beg for it."

"Please, Lisa," you pleaded, your voice desperate. "I need to come. Please."

Her response was to redouble her efforts, her mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you over the edge. When you finally came, it was with a cry of her name, your body writhing under her skilled touch. She didn’t stop until she had wrung every last bit of pleasure from you, leaving you spent and satisfied.

As you lay there, catching your breath, Lisa moved to lie beside you, her hand gently stroking your hair. "You did so well," she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’re mine, remember that."

You nodded, a contented smile on your lips. "I'm yours," you whispered, your heart full of love and trust for the woman who held you so completely.

On day at the hospital could be particularly exhausting, but this Thursday felt different. Lisa Cuddy had received a box of chocolates from a grateful patient, and without suspecting their content, she had eaten several. A few hours later, she began to feel an intense heat and agitation that she hadn't anticipated.

Early in the afternoon, you were in her office discussing a current case. Cuddy, visibly uncomfortable, asked you to close the door behind you. "Y/N, I don't know what's happening, but I need your help," she murmured, her cheeks flushing under the aphrodisiac's effect. You approached her, concerned, but as soon as you were within reach, she grabbed your hand and pulled you toward her.

"Lisa, what are you doing?" you whispered, your heart pounding. She looked at you, her eyes shining with desire. "I… I can't wait any longer," she murmured, her fingers slowly unbuttoning your blouse. You let her, mesmerized by her urgency. Her lips found yours in a fervent kiss, her hands exploring your body with unchecked passion.

You found yourself seated on the edge of her desk, your clothes scattered around you. Cuddy, still in control, pulled a small device from her drawer. "Look at this," she said with a mischievous smile. She activated the remote-controlled vibrator and slipped it between your thighs, securing it in place with a strap. You shivered at the sensation, your muscles clenching involuntarily.

"Lisa, here? Now?" You couldn't believe what was happening. She nodded, her fingers pressing the remote. The vibrator began to hum softly, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk.

Cuddy stood before you, her gaze fixed on you with a devouring intensity. She increased the toy's power, and you felt yourself on the verge of losing control. "You like this, don't you?" she murmured, her fingers caressing your face. You could only nod, unable to form a coherent response.

She played with the settings, alternating between gentle vibrations and intense pulses, pushing you to the edge. Each change in rhythm brought you closer to ecstasy, and you found yourself silently begging for more release. Cuddy, seeing your state, lowered the remote to give you a moment of respite.

"Do you want to come for me, Y/N?" she asked, her voice soft but authoritative. "Yes, Lisa, please," you panted, your body trembling with anticipation. She smiled and increased the intensity again, finally pushing you over the edge. You felt yourself explode into a million fragments of pleasure, each wave of bliss overwhelming you.

Breathless and dizzy, you collapsed onto the desk, your limbs weak and trembling. Lisa turned off the vibrator and gently removed it, her hands caressing your soothed thighs. "You were wonderful," she murmured, placing a tender kiss on your lips. "Thank you for helping me."

As you caught your breath, you realized how much this experience had strengthened your connection. Though you had never imagined such a situation at work, you felt closer to Lisa than ever.

After that intense afternoon in Cuddy's office, life took on a new, exciting rhythm. You and Lisa navigated your relationship with a mix of professional decorum and private passion. The boundaries between work and personal life became more distinct, yet somehow more intertwined. The weeks following that day saw both of you finding a balance between your responsibilities at the hospital and your deepening relationship. Cuddy, always the consummate professional, ensured that your interactions at work remained appropriate. However, the stolen glances and subtle touches were enough to keep the flame of your relationship burning. Your evenings together became the highlight of your day. Cuddy's house transformed into a haven where you could both unwind and be yourselves. You shared dinners, cooked together, and enjoyed quiet nights in, watching movies or discussing your day. Cuddy's favorite moments were when you read to her, your voice soothing away the stress of her day.

Whenever you both could afford the time, you took weekends away from the city. Whether it was a secluded cabin in the mountains or a cozy beach house, these trips allowed you to connect on a deeper level. Away from the demands of the hospital, you explored each other’s interests and dreams, strengthening the bond between you. With each passing month, you found yourself opening up more about your past and your feelings. Lisa, too, shared stories of her journey, the struggles she faced as a woman in a high-powered position, and her fears and hopes. This mutual vulnerability brought you even closer.

At work, your dynamic remained strong and professional. Your colleagues respected your expertise and dedication, and House, despite his occasional barbs, seemed to accept your relationship with Cuddy. You often found yourself working closely with Lisa on difficult cases, your combined skills and insights making a formidable team. As your relationship grew, the question of moving in together naturally arose. After several months of discussing and planning, you decided it was time. The transition was smooth, a testament to how well you complemented each other. Lisa’s home became your home, and you both enjoyed creating a shared space filled with love and laughter.You often talked about the future, both personal and professional. Lisa’s support encouraged you to pursue further specialization in your field, and you, in turn, were her biggest cheerleader in her ongoing efforts to balance her career and personal life. You dreamed of more travel, maybe even adopting a pet, and continuing to build a life filled with shared goals and mutual respect.

Of course, there were challenges. Balancing two demanding careers and maintaining a relationship wasn’t always easy. There were times when stress from work would spill over into your personal life. But each challenge was met with patience and communication. Your ability to work through problems together only strengthened your relationship. Your relationship had a positive ripple effect on those around you. Cameron often commented on how happy you seemed, and even House, in his own way, acknowledged the stability you brought to Cuddy's life. The respect and affection you shared became a quiet inspiration to others in the hospital, showing that a loving, supportive partnership was possible even in the most demanding environments.

In the end, what you built together was a relationship based on trust, respect, and deep affection. Lisa Cuddy and you became each other’s confidant, lover, and partner in every sense of the word. Your journey was just beginning, but it was clear that whatever the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand.

Everything was going quite well until you decided to take a week off to focus entirely on Cuddy. The hospital was struggling, but you knew it would improve as usual. However, Cuddy, still stressed by the situation, was unaware that you had planned this time off specifically for her. That morning, as usual, you woke up early to prepare breakfast. Cuddy arrived, gave you a tender kiss, and told you she loved you before rushing off to eat, get ready, and go to work.

Shortly after her departure, you were distracted by knocks at your door. Maybe Cuddy had forgotten something? When you opened the door, you were surprised to see House standing there with his usual air of arrogance. You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t leave you alone. You let him in and turned back to continue tidying up the kitchen after breakfast.

House casually settled into a chair, his eyes gleaming with calculated interest. "So, how's it going with the manipulator?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm but also with undisguised curiosity.

You turned to look at him, exasperated by his early morning intrusion. "What do you want, House?" you replied, trying to keep your frustration in check as you continued with your chores.

"Just a little chat to pass the time," he said, shrugging. "I was wondering how things are going with the big boss. She must really be a master manipulator to get you to drop everything, even your job, for her."

You felt your anger rise sharply. "Cuddy isn’t manipulating me, House. I’m taking this time off to help her relax a bit. The hospital is going through a tough period, and she’s carrying all the weight on her shoulders."

House rolled his eyes with feigned exasperation. "Oh, of course. Poor Cuddy, tormented by her job. And you, the saint, there to save her every step of the way. Maybe she’s just using you for her emotional and professional needs. Maybe she sees you more as a temporary fix to her problems than as a real partner."

This remark made you boil with rage. "You don't know anything about our relationship, House. Cuddy and I support each other. What we have is real, and it's not something you could understand."

House leaned forward, his gaze becoming more incisive. "Maybe I don't understand. Or maybe I see things you're refusing to see. But be careful, because sometimes the people we trust the most are the ones who betray us the most."

You stared at him with determination, refusing to give in to his provocations. "Cuddy would never betray me. And I won’t let anyone, especially not you, come between us. I love her, and I hope she'll become my wife someday."

House raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed by your resolve. "Well, good luck with that," he said as he headed for the door. "Don't forget that I warned you." With those final words, he left, leaving you alone in the kitchen, your thoughts swirling in your head.

Shortly after his departure, you felt a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. You turned around to see Cuddy, who had forgotten her bag. She looked at you with a tender smile and gave you a light kiss. "I'll talk about this tonight," she said before kissing you again and walking away.

You stood there, alone, with mixed thoughts and emotions, waiting for the evening when Cuddy would return to discuss everything that had happened. After a particularly stressful workday for Cuddy, you prepared for an evening that would be both soothing and revealing. Having taken time off to focus on her, you had done everything to create a warm and intimate setting. The kitchen smelled of homemade dishes, candles created a soft glow, and light music floated in the air.

When Cuddy came home, you waited eagerly. She entered, visibly exhausted but happy to find a calm and comforting environment. As she dropped her bag and approached you, a tired smile lit up her face.

"Wow, you really went all out tonight," she said, taking in the ambiance you had carefully prepared. Her eyes settled on you with gratitude and affection. She pulled you into a hug, and you felt a wave of comfort as you held her close.

"I wanted it to be special," you replied softly. "For both of us."

You sat down at the table for dinner. The meal you had prepared was simple yet delicious, with dishes that seemed to bring a touch of warmth and comfort. As you ate, Cuddy talked about her day, the pressure she felt at work, and her concerns about the hospital. She shared her frustrations and worries, revealing how exhausted she was from the challenges she faced.

You listened attentively, offering words of comfort and showing sincere empathy for her difficulties. "It must be really hard to carry all that weight on your shoulders," you said. "But I'm here for you, and I want you to remember that we’re a team. If you want, I can even give you a massage."

After dinner, you settled on the couch, the atmosphere now imbued with tranquility and warmth. Cuddy snuggled against you, and you felt a deep connection growing between you. She took a deep breath before beginning to speak.

"You know, I’ve done a lot of thinking today," she said, her gaze drifting into yours. "And I realize how much I need you in my life. I don’t want misunderstandings or obstacles to come between us. What we have is precious to me."

You took her hand in yours, looking at her tenderly. "I feel the same way, Lisa. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make our relationship work. Even in the face of challenges, I’m confident that we can overcome them together."

Cuddy smiled, her eyes lighting up with sincerity. "I love you deeply, and I want us to remain honest with each other while supporting one another."

The conversation continued, filled with promises and commitments for the future. You discussed your hopes, fears, and dreams with renewed openness. Every word exchanged strengthened the bond between you, and you felt more confident in the solidity of your relationship.

By the end of the evening, as you settled in to relax, Cuddy snuggled against you. You spent the night in a sweet embrace, finding comfort and joy in each other's presence.

Finally, it was Friday, and you had planned a lot of activities for the weekend. The sun was beginning to set as Cuddy came home after a long day at work. You had spent the day preparing something special for her, hoping to offer her a moment of relaxation and relief from the tensions at the hospital. As you heard the front door open, your heart raced with anticipation of what you had planned for the evening.

Cuddy walked into the room, visibly tired but with a grateful smile upon seeing you. "Hi, honey," she said, approaching you for a kiss. "How was your day?"

"Very good," you replied with a smile, a glimmer of excitement in your eyes. "I’ve prepared something special for you tonight. Will you follow me?"

Intrigued, Cuddy followed you to the bedroom, where you had transformed the space into a sanctuary of relaxation. Soft, soothing candlelight flickered around the room, and a subtle lavender scent floated in the air. On the bed, carefully arranged accessories awaited, signaling the BDSM session you had prepared.

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Oh, I see you’ve been very busy," she said, her voice tinged with curiosity and desire. "And what’s the special occasion for all this?"

You took a deep breath, determined to offer her this experience with all the love and respect you felt for her. "I wanted to thank you for everything you do, for your hard work and dedication. But more than that, I wanted to give you the chance to let go, to release all the stress you carry."

Cuddy looked at you with tenderness, touched by your gesture. "You’re really amazing," she murmured, before kissing you passionately. "I trust you to guide me tonight."

You began by gently blindfolding her, taking care to explain each step of the process. "I’m going to guide you through this experience. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, just say the safe word, okay?"

Cuddy nodded, her breath already quickening in anticipation. "Okay," she murmured.

You began by gently securing her wrists to the bed with velvet cuffs, ensuring they were comfortable yet tight enough to restrict her movements. Then, you picked up a soft leather flogger and started to caress her skin with it, testing her reaction before delivering light strokes—enough to create a sensation but not excessive pain. Each stroke was followed by a kiss on the reddened skin, alternating between tenderness and firmness, creating a sensual dance between pain and pleasure. Cuddy moaned, getting lost in the sensations, her breathing becoming more erratic.

"You look so beautiful when you let go," you whispered in her ear before picking up a remote-controlled vibrator. "I’m going to keep playing with you, but I want you to tell me how you’re feeling at every moment."

Cuddy nodded, her voice trembling with desire. "I feel... alive. Keep going, please."

You turned on the vibrator, placing it gently between her legs before activating the vibrations. Cuddy’s body tensed, a moan escaping her lips. You alternated the intensities, playing with the rhythm to keep her excitement at its peak without letting her reach climax too quickly.

"You like this, don’t you?" you asked, your voice low and sensual.

"Yes... yes, I like it," she responded between moans, her body trembling with pleasure.

The evening continued in a delicate dance of domination and submission, each gesture and word deepening the connection between you two. When you sensed she was ready, you increased the intensity of the vibrator, guiding Cuddy toward a powerful orgasm that left her breathless, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

You gently untied her, removed the blindfold, and held her in your arms, offering soothing words and gentle caresses. "Thank you for trusting me," you whispered into her hair.

Cuddy looked at you with eyes still glazed with pleasure. "Thank you for this unforgettable moment. I feel so much better, so loved."

You remained entwined, savoring the softness of the moment and the depth of your connection, knowing that this experience had further strengthened your love and mutual trust.

You had booked a weekend at a luxury hotel with a spa, jacuzzi, and all the amenities for maximum relaxation. On Saturday morning, after Cuddy had woken up, you greeted her with a mischievous smile.

"Pack your bags, darling, after breakfast," you say, kissing her tenderly. "We're going away for a relaxing weekend."

Cuddy looks at you, surprised but delighted. "Oh really? Where are we going?"

"You'll see," you reply with a wink. "But get ready to be pampered."

After breakfast, you hit the road, leaving behind the worries of the hospital. Upon arriving at the hotel, Cuddy is awestruck by the beauty of the place. The entrance is grand, with lush gardens and soothing fountains. You check in quickly and head to your room, a luxurious suite with breathtaking views of the mountains.

"Wow, this is gorgeous," Cuddy murmurs, impressed. "You've really thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Nothing is too good for you," you reply, hugging her. "Now, let's go enjoy the spa."

You change into fluffy robes and head down to the hotel spa. The atmosphere is serene, with soft music playing in the background and the subtle scent of lavender floating through the air. You start with a relaxing couples' massage, where expert hands work out all the tension from your bodies. The essential oils soothe your minds, and you both feel completely at ease.

After the massage, you head to the private jacuzzi. The warm water and bubbles soothe your tired muscles, adding to your relaxation. Cuddy settles against you, her head resting on your shoulder, a peaceful smile on her lips.

"This is exactly what I needed," she murmurs. "Thank you, darling."

"I knew you needed it," you reply, gently stroking her hair. "You work so hard. You deserve to unwind."

You spend a long time in the jacuzzi, enjoying the warmth and each other’s company. You chat about everything and nothing, letting the bubbles carry away your worries.

In the evening, you dine at the hotel restaurant, savoring a delicious meal paired with exquisite wines. Cuddy is radiant, her eyes shining with happiness and gratitude. "I couldn't be happier," she says, looking at you tenderly. "You make everything so special."

"Because you are special to me," you respond, raising your glass for a toast. "To us and many more moments like this."

The rest of the weekend continues in the same vein of relaxation and joy. You enjoy the pools, saunas, and long walks through the hotel gardens. You laugh, kiss, and take care of each other, further strengthening your bond.

Returning home, you both feel rejuvenated and ready to face the challenges ahead. Cuddy thanks you repeatedly for the perfect weekend, and you are happy to have given her this moment of peace and happiness.

“We should do this more often,” she says as she falls asleep in your arms on the first night back home.

“Yes, we should,” you murmur, a smile on your lips. “I love you, Lisa.”

“I love you too,” she replies softly, and with that, you both drift off to sleep, ready to face whatever the future holds together.

The last evening of your weekend unfolds in a peaceful, loving atmosphere. However, the return to reality looms, bringing with it the pressures and responsibilities you both face. On the evening of your last day off, the mood is slightly tense. Cuddy seems preoccupied, likely already thinking about the challenges awaiting her at the hospital.

As you have breakfast together, you try to reassure her. “You know, everything will be fine at the hospital. We have a great team, and we can handle it together.”

Cuddy gives a faint smile. “I know, but there’s so much to manage. The finances, the new projects, the daily issues. Sometimes it’s just… overwhelming.”

You understand her stress, but you also need to share your own concerns. “I understand, Lisa, but you also need to learn to delegate. You can’t do everything on your own.”

She looks at you, slightly irritated. “It’s easy for you to say. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under as the director.”

Your tone becomes firmer, feeling the injustice of her words. “I know very well what it’s like to work under pressure, Lisa. I’m here for you, but you also need to accept help.”

The rest of the morning is marked by growing tension. You prepare in silence for the return home, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words and accumulated frustrations. During the drive back, you try to initiate some light conversation, but Cuddy responds with one-word answers, clearly still preoccupied.

Once home, the situation finally erupts. “Why can’t you understand that I need support, not criticism?” Cuddy exclaims as she enters the living room.

You turn to her, arms crossed. “I’m not criticizing you, Lisa. I’m trying to help. But you never let me in; you always want to control everything.”

"And you think you could do better?" she retorts, anger in her voice. "You have no idea what it's like to run a hospital."

"Maybe not, but I know what it’s like to manage a relationship," you reply, frustration rising. "And right now, you're not letting me be a part of your life the way I want to."

Cuddy remains silent for a moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, it's just… so hard. I'm afraid of losing everything."

You approach her, softening your tone. "We're a team, a couple, Lisa. You're not alone. I'm here, by your side, no matter what. But you have to let me help."

She nods, tears finally streaming down her face. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes, everything becomes too overwhelming."

You embrace her, feeling the tension start to ease a little. "We’ll get through this together, okay? But we need to communicate and support each other."

Cuddy nods, cuddling into you. "I promise to make an effort. Thank you for being here for me."

You spend the rest of the day calmly talking, reaffirming your commitment to each other.

After that intense argument and the subsequent reconciliation, you and Cuddy decided to take concrete steps to improve your relationship and lighten the load of responsibilities. True to her promise, Cuddy began delegating more tasks to her colleagues, learning to trust her team. She also agreed to attend therapy sessions to better manage her stress. On your side, you made an effort to be more present and create relaxation moments for both of you. Every weekend, you set aside time for activities together, whether it was a simple walk in the park, a romantic dinner, or a movie night at home. You discovered new shared passions and rekindled those you had neglected.

One evening, after a particularly successful day at the hospital, where the finances were finally starting to improve and a new project was underway, Cuddy came home with a radiant smile. You greeted her with a glass of wine and a carefully prepared dinner.

"I have a surprise for you," she said, her eyes sparkling with joy and mischief.

Intrigued, you followed her into the living room, where she had prepared an envelope adorned with a red ribbon. You opened it carefully, discovering two tickets to a dream destination you had always wanted to visit together.

"I think we deserve a well-earned vacation, this time with no stress and no obligations," she said with a smile.

The days leading up to your departure were filled with excitement and joyful preparations. You discussed everything you wanted to do and see, already imagining the memories you would create together. Upon arriving at your destination, you immersed yourselves in a tropical paradise, savoring every moment together. The days were filled with adventures and discoveries, while the evenings were reserved for moments of tenderness and intimacy. On your last evening, as you watched the sunset on the beach, Cuddy took your hand in hers.

"You know, this year has been tough, but it’s also taught me what truly matters," she said.

You nodded, feeling the emotion rise. "Yes, it’s taught us to support and love each other more deeply."

Cuddy smiled and pulled a small box from her pocket. Opening it, you discovered a beautiful ring. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Y/N?"

With tears in your eyes, you answered without hesitation. "Yes, Lisa, I will."

You kissed, your hearts beating as one, savoring this moment of pure happiness. You knew that the road ahead would still be long and filled with challenges, but together, you could overcome anything. Your love was stronger than ever, ready to face the future with hope and determination.

And so, hand in hand, you embarked on this new chapter of your life, with the certainty that nothing and no one could ever tear you apart. After this event, you understood why you had given the necklace to your wife. From the beginning, the clue had been right before your eyes—why you thought of her when you saw the pendant. The same color as her eyes.

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