below you'll find all work pertaining to ships, gifs, and fics produced by me!
house m.d. 🥼🩺
if you can fake sincerity, you can pretty much fake anything.
my mistake, gregory house — you should've known better, but don't. you were pathetically in love with house.
cha cha chase, gregory house — house finds out you're a dancer.
turning point, gregory house — you and house despise each other. today's supposed to be any other night, but house kisses you.
wilson's hypothesis, gregory house — according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.
negotiations, gregory house — house would rather fight you, but negotiates a date to the gala as a truce.
upcoming:
in new york, gregory house — mid make out session, wilson walks in and finds out has a you for a girlfriend.
pulse of verse, gregory house (series) — when a poet becomes a patient, house lets the team in on the secret he once dated you: the poet laureate whose poems he inspired. years later, you take up a teaching job at the university.
the queen's gambit ♟️💄
take it. it's your game.
an illicit affair, bethov — ch 1, ch 2, ch 3
losing is not option, bethov gif set
bridgerton 🦢🐝
after passion cools and fate intervenes, who else is a woman left with but herself?
🥼🩺 | house would rather fight you, but negotiates a date to a gala for a truce.
masterlist : greg house n all
tags/warnings! house being house, lawyer!reader, drugs, not enemies per say but there's def something there, reader is stacy's apprentice of sorts | gifs by @propertyofjameswilson
author's note: this was one of the first requests i got in my inbox! i accidentally deleted it omg but i hope this finds you <3 lemme know what you guys think!
"if this is an ethical boards issue, file the report over there," you spoke, eyes never leaving the monitor screen.
you already knew it was house from the way a constant thud crept its way to your office. that, and you could see his figure from your peripheral, so really you didn't need to look up.
"it's adorable that you automatically know it's me," he noted, obviously humoured. "if i didn't know better, i would've pegged you down as a secret admirer."
still, that didn't inspire much of a reaction from you other than a short glance. the two of you have been veering on this lane since you replaced stacy seven months ago. you were much colder than she was, and so much less accommodating to his devious needs.
house often wondered how stacy even took a liking to you, but then again she was also ruthless when he first met her. by that logic, you didn't fall from the tree. you were your mentor's very picture, but oh were you much icier. it was annoying, but he liked drilling you.
unfortunately for him, you were several inches thick. so he considered you worse than cuddy in that regard. at least she entertained his whims, but you... you didn't care nor bat an eye.
you said all the appropriate, correct and right things.
"well?"
"i need you," he admitted ominously.
your brows knitted, "right...?"
a silence broke between the two of you, causing you to finally look up and meet his eyes.
"house, if this is an ethics question, you have cuddy to advise you," you sighed. "i only deal with court and legal processes."
he shook his head. "i need you."
you sent him another worrisome look, before finally giving in. "what for?"
"tonight's the gala. i need a date."
:..don't you have hookers for that? i'm sure they would like the pay," you told him, voice and tone slow, still unsure what the gimmick was with this request.
if you had learned one thing in your seven months here at princeton was that everything involving house was some sort of mind game. you'd dealt with him enough times to know that, and seen him through three excruciating court appearances because the man couldn't and wouldn't shut up.
house was stupid in the way he was careless.
he plopped himself on your client chairs, hands wrapping the knob of his cane like he was considering some great philosophy or debate in his mind, surely one about the manmade idea of a god.
"hmm, good point. hookers do have their perks-less backtalk, more enthusiasm," he hummed, pretending to think, brows raising as he offered the explanation to his request. "but, hey, i figured slumming it with you might be an interesting change of pace."
despite his nonchalant closing of the question, he was still there. the proposition hung heavy in the your silence, piercing through the airy creak of the floorboards from the wobble of his cane.
you cocked your brow, asking, "so you want me to be your entertainment?"
at that house scrunched his face.
"entertainment? that's putting it generous," he remarked, looking at you with incredulous eyes as he leaned on the chair's backrest to take a vicodin. "i was thinking more like a reluctant accomplice in a dull evening. but who knows, you might surprise me."
he wanted you to bite. if you were cameron, then maybe you would've then and there, and entertain house's wild fantasy of taking you to the gala to stir up hospital gossip. but you still didn't know the caveat to your compliance, not to mention the sea of paperwork you'd been made to deal with due to his merry malpractice.
it was like this every other week, somehow piling larger because you had to justify house's forgeries on paper.
"well, i'm flattered at your proposal, but alas i'm swamped from your court hearing last week," you straightened up, gesturing to the piles and piles of folders and legal binders littering your desk. "i have you to thank for that i believe."
your dry remark elicited an impatient huff from house, all but crass and lax about administrative affairs of his hospital job.
"the perks of my charming personality. you're welcome for the excitement," he told you, leaning back toward you to flick through the papers on your desk.
"what's the gimmick?"
"no gimmicks. just you and me surviving the god awful gala, and you can have tickets to whatever show you want. what do you say?"
he looked at you innocently.
"there's always a gimmick with you, house. it makes your puzzle for your team to figure out. so what's the puzzle here?" you query, locking your hands together.
more than anything, this was negotiation. anything was negotiable with house: rules, conduct... the law.
anything was remotely subjective was up for his objective debate, all to prop himself up with more advantage to do whatever he wants in the hospital. even though he makes up for it with his rightness, it's made up more work for you
"you on my arm; i need to quiet down cuddy," he finally reveals, pursing his lips. "she's antsy about our squashbuckling. personally think it's great pr, but mommy says otherwise."
you let out a breath, considering the argument. he was right, of course. the times the two of you went to court, you looked like you could barely control your client even with your stern voice and threats. your threats were empty in house's books. so long as he proved himself on principle, consequences were an afterthought to him.
his integrity made him a man easy to admire, but he would rather ruffle your feathers to see how far you'd go. it infuriated and vexed you. but, if this was really a chance to call an armistice, then his proposition was more than an attractive offer.
"okay," you agreed.
house bobbed his head, appeased with your agreement, "great."
"but i don't want tickets."
he edged his head, encouraging you to go on. eyes wary, nonetheless.
"i want the next case without a pile of files for me to review."
a beat.
he blinked.
then he uncontrollably laughed. the fucker laughed.
"that's cute, y/l/n," he chortled, sinking into the backrest completely. he was smug, face dancing with amusement and disbelief like you believed he could really do that.
"let's see, you want me to diagnose a complex medical case discarding my process and adhere to standard protocol. wow that's really cute."
"well, fine then. appease cuddy another way," you waved him off, letting your eyes fall to your monitor to go back to work.
sensing this, house groaned a sigh, exchanging his previous amusement for your veering annoyance. he took his fingers and massaged the bridge of his nose.
"alright, you want a break from my malpractice masterpieces? fine. i'll keep it clean the next time. but if i manage to save a life without a single piece of paper, you owe me more than the gala."
you stared back at him, mildly bewildered, "are you asking me out on a date, house?"
"my diagnostic powers deserve more than a gala."
so it was a yes, then. part of you wanted to beam, but that would betray your icy façade. so instead you settled for cool nod, won by the whole proposal. you knew he wouldn't resist a challenge if you posed one, and if it meant less work for you, then you'd let house take you out.
house also owed you more than a date after the last seven months of putting up with his shit.
"wear a nice suit," you accepted, weathering a ghost of a smile. "pick me up at my apartment at 8."
The bar had looked so much more inticing than home tonight after my long day. Two quick glasses of wine in, the stress in my core was finally beginning to melt. My insides had turned warm and when I twisted my head to scan the dark room my head felt heavy in a fun way.
“Oh, so that’s how your smile looks,” someone exclaimed way too close to my ear. Dr House’s breath tickled the side of my face and my supposed smile dropped instantly as I turned to glare at him.
“You’re not allowed in my happy place.”
“The bar is your happy place? That’s very sad,” House teased and sat down next to me. “And not very suitable for a together and well-balanced lawyer.”
I had taken a new job at Princeton Plainsboro a month ago and couldn’t recall a day where I hadn’t had to argue with Dr House about some malpractice case or another.
“Maybe I’m not so well-balanced,” I said and instantly regretted it. He didn’t need to know anything about me.
“Clearly not. Your shirt is more unbuttoned than it is buttoned,” he exaggerated and glanced down at my chest which I did too.
“Your happy place makes you slutty. I like it.”
He smirked and I gazed back at him tiredly.
“Do you?” I questioned and leaned in, my tipsy head not knowing what sort of point I was trying to make. House didn’t flinch. He gave an unapologetically long stare at my lips.
“I do.”
There was another type of warmth inside me now and I absolutely knew what it meant but I couldn’t fathom that House had made me feel that. Another moment of us staring at each other’s lips passed before I broke the eye contact and pulled away.
“This Y/N is fun. Remind me to get you drunk in the future.”
“Remind me to never speak to you again,” I countered and House laughed cockily.
“Oh, you know I only traumatise my patients so that we can have our little chats,” House joked in a dark tone.
“You love it,” he purred into my ear again before sliding off his seat and heading for the exit. I cursed the warm tingle in my stomach and finished my third glass in a swig.
i finally finished s8. and yes, it took me a month... I WAS STRUGGLING.
girl it was so on the nose—i'm underwhelmed! i thought it was gonna be a banger like house's head or 6x01 and all but ???? it was kinda mediocre i fear
but yeah omg it was so on the nose with the whole "i can change" since house's whole belief system is "people don't change." i still really enjoyed stacy's hallucination because house could be such a great dad.
i was really happy to see kutner, stacy and cameron return! i literally gasped when i saw kutner. i thought he'd never return, but thanks obama for letting kal penn film the ep 🙏
house and wilson riding off into the sunset was very much a hilson ending! they're textbook definition of ride or die. no other duo could ever !!!!
but my fav moments were of cameron looking at their christmas pic and foreman finding house's id!
I THOUGHT THEY BROUGHT BACK THE BLUE TURTLENECK GAHHH !!!! it genuinely upsets me that we never got to see it after s1
you can't have a man with eyes that blue to wear that and never pull it out the closet AGAIN LIKE WHERE DID IT GO
anyway, i still enjoyed it but i wished it ended with banger. the show deserves it.
time to rewatch and see the ducklings and everyone happy and not depressed !
time to rewatch house md bc season 7-8 was so depresso like babe I WAS STRUGGLING TO FINISH S8. everything was so dark and dull it was so... ugh
i need to see house not spiralling, tag team wilson and cuddy, the og team prying into house's life, and the gorgeous backlighting and colour grading!!!
You can love a character and still admit when they're wrong. I love House but I can acknowledge his flaws (he has none) and can hold him accountable for his wrongdoings (he's never done anything wrong in his life) and call him out for his actions (which are always correct).
mhm i would say on a biweekly basis. i try to give each fic some cushion time to be read, and see if anyone's reading! 100 likes/notes is usually my marker to post a new fic, so my frequency also depends on that.
it's actually pretty great because i get some time to really write, since i jump from idea to idea as i've previously answered. i got a bunch in my drafts rn so the cushion's great.
but yeah! every other week or so, or whenever the latest fic gets 100 likes is how often i post.
and thanks for reading! i really appreciate it <33
🥼🩺 | according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.
masterlist: greg house n all
warnings/tags! fluff of sorts, angst if you squint, talks of self-sabotage, idiots in love, sherlocked reference!!! (just watched 8x18—house self-sabotages so bad my lord)
author's note: lowkey hate this but it's idk what're we thinking fellow ducklings???
"wilson thinks i like you," house airs.
you throw him a strange glance.
"crazy, right?"
"yeah? and you think i like cameron," you mimic, matching his dismissive detachment to comedic effect.
only, house is serious.
“no, wilson thinks i like you.” house ignores your joke, repeating wilson’s solemn hypothesis.
when you pause to look at his face, your mind goes off into complete nonsense like's just tipped you over and left you with internal bleeding in your brain, upon the realization that he does, in fact, mean those words he's telling you.
"what makes him say that?"
"i'm apparently connecting with you,” house indulges, relaxing into the cold bit of wall behind him. the moonlight hits him in a more subtle way, half hidden in the shadows. the blue of his wrinkled shirt melts into the glow it radiates.
you're not particularly sure what to say. thankfully, he elaborates.
“you share your food with me, i take your food, ergo it means something in wilson's romantic world,” house offers, before quickly dismissing the thought of his supposed feelings for you. "but you know wilson, he's always been a romantic. thinks he can diagnose emotions as easily as diseases."
you consider the argument, "well couldn't that just mean i can't finish my food and you don't wanna get your own?"
he squints at you, as if with drills for eyes. you're playing dumb, unless you really believe that. but you don't.
you clear your throat, "well, do you believe that?"
"well it's either that or i must obviously like you."
you gawk. "well, do you?"
"do i have to spell it out for you?"
"wilson had to," you snark back. "so, do you?"
"no," he says with a flat face.
something in your chest drops, just as your brows shoot up. "no?"
"no," he reaffirms.
you don't know if you manage to catch your frown. house doesn't say anything if you didn't. you're more than a little embarrassed, surely flushed. you're thankful that the two of you are under the dim veil of night.
"well good thing," you grumble.
house looks at you with a curious look, as if he was almost offended you would say that. "good thing?"
“we’re both lonely. lonely means self-sabotage,” you explain, fiddling with one of the main trinkets that line the ledge. you were sure you proving your point, coming up with an off-putting rationale to cover up your embarrassment. "two self-saboteurs, well, that's an equation with proven unresolved issues... so yeah, good thing."
you were internally cringing at the words you were spitting out, but you were trying to play it cool. it's something that's never worked in your favour though when you were near an attractive guy, and you always swore this was to make them repulse the inkling of interest. and you swore off doing this years ago, but the blunt rejection, if you could call it that, sprung the teenager out of you.
then again, house affects you like that. blue eyes and blue shirt and all.
he makes it no secret that he's a ladies' man, often hitching hookers into the hospital despite cuddy's gentle parenting to make him stop. but house does whatever he wants in the hospital, hence all the lawsuits you've had to deal with.
when you look at him again, he's somehow uncharacteristically quiet. you're unsure if his speculative eyes are because of a lightbulb moment, but one thing's for sure: he was thinking.
"you're thinking, aren't you?" you glean in a tilt.
house doesn't say anything, but turns away from you. when he does, you're unsure if you see his lip curl in disappointment—he hides it too well. some part of you hopes, but you know you're not his type. a bit too much like him in the overanalyzing and overthinking.
and maybe you're convincing yourself, but realistically speaking, your happy arrangement of sharing food in the middle of a hospital shift may work for lonely and misery, but not for anything else. two people who like self-sabotage is like a dumpster fire.
you'd rather have house like this, happy and alarmingly blue.
"aaand you've stopped listening. i shall take that as my cue to leave," you announce, hopping off the ledge in the same ginger fashion you had waltzing in.
when you land your feet, house airs his deduction, nodding along as if he was finally making sense of you and wilson’s hypothesis.
“maybe he’s onto something.”
you turn to him with a tinge of a worrisome brow.
“who knows? maybe i’ve been sending subtle signals that even i’m not aware of. so what do you think?” he croons his head, all ominous, arriving to a conclusion. you can practically see the cogs turn in his brain. “you like me.”
"i never said that.”
house looks at you, rising in a smooth motion, as if to showcase his towering height, forcing you to look up at him. sitting down, he's not so large, but now, all you can think is that he's tall.
"you might not, but your body does," he croons, dangerous smirk playing about his face. his eyes probe your face, confidently with a proven theory. "pupils dilated..."
house grabs your wrist, eyes practically lighting up in delight at his impending diagnosis.
"…and pulse elevated. i understand that wilson thinks that love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry's incredibly simple," he says, softening his grip on you.
house doesn't let go, lingering in this proximity, leaning closer like some ghost and spirit you'll always look for. your breath hitches, but house doesn't afford you time to quite think, capturing your lips in a kiss that you reciprocate, clutching onto his arms for balance.
you feel one of his hand snake to the nook of your back, pushing you flush against him. house keeps his other hand cupping your cheek and jaw, large enough to cover that expanse of your face. it's a little dry and rough, but you don't mind, all too preoccupied with his lips.
house makes good work on you. his lips are even better than you'd imagine, but you finally register his words and what you were doing, so you pull away. the furrow of your brows returning, apprehensive about his next words.
you whisper, “i thought you didn't like me.”
"i was lying," he shrugs. "i needed to see if i was right, and i was."
"so you figured me out?"
"you like me,” house concludes, triumphant. “i was right.”
“i thought this was wilson’s hypothesis?” you cock a brow.
“hypothesis,” he nods before flicking your head. “but i can’t give him the credit for my diagnosis.”
you let out an airy laugh, relieved that he didn't make you spell it out for him. "you're an ass, you know?"
his eyes are proudly heralding trumpets. you could practically hear the victory going off them.
a doctor with a drug pain problem. a man who'll read anything to prove everything's wrong. a monster truck enthusiast. a bitter man with a cane. a man who, on principle, wouldn't miss a chance to bully a kid. and a guy who'll rent out a 1780s costume to make his crush giggle.
🥼🩺 | you and house despise each other. today's supposed to be any other night, but house kisses you.
warnings/tags! light enemies-to-lovers, angst if you squint your eyes, younger woman x older man, emotional revelations, no dialogue, and they kiss!
masterlist : greg house n all
a/n: i can't believe people are sending in things in my inbox wow if you have any requests/ideas or little topics of conversations don't shy away and send them my way! enjoy ducklings <3
house reaches for your wrist, taking you into his grasp, and pulling you flush against his body. you jolt at the sudden motion, left hand landing and pressing on his chest. sure eyes linger on your face for a fraction of a second. beauty eclipsing any and all thought working the cogs in his busy mind. all he thinks to himself is how breathtaking you are in this moment.
many a time the two of you would rather bicker, almost estranged in your sidings with cuddy. but you were legally bound by contract to side with her, serving as a board member this year.
tonight’s no different, you’re here because of house’s opposition to a hospital policy you and the board proposed. he’s been on a childish campaign to get you to concede to his wishes, after all he does whatever he wants in the hospital. but he makes a deductive confession that changes the tune of your usual argument. and tonight’s a little different, with it being the annual gala.
you wear this burgundy dress off some runway that he makes note of, and he’s in his well-pressed, well-tailored suit. you came here to declare a truce, but instead you let house press your buttons, somehow finding yourself ending the argument against his chest.
house’s hand snakes its way to the nook of your back. then, his lips were latched onto yours. he's kissing you.
gregory house is kissing you.
your tense body melts into his touch, reciprocating the kiss despite your initial surprise. you loop an arm around his neck, pushing him closer to you, causing the two of you to wobble, but he steadies your weight and deepens the kiss.
it’s sweet, passionate, and almost desparate, as if this was years of yearning. but you’re not so illusioned that you mistake this as something other than all your anger and hostility towards each other finally being squeeze out by the force of your locked lips—into this kiss.
it’s a kiss the two of you unknowingly wanted, hidden underneath the veneer of your harsh and clashing words. you’re not afraid to argue with house, equally venomous with your tongue during your time as a defence lawyer. and house is the same, sharpened tongue to prove his correctness in principle.
but you two fear that you’ve exposed yourselves to the possibility of tragedy. maybe it's because you two have been really eyeing each other all along, testing how you could handle each other. never once have you failed, nor has house. that scared you shitless, but the moment’s well worth it. house makes good work with his lips, and you float in some sort of heaven, feeling the frustration finally rupture. and he feels the same.
slowly, you both pull away from each other, breathless and flushed. you don’t pull away immediately, staying interlocked in his grasp. your eyes are both down cast, not quite refusing to look at the other, but rather frozen and unsure where to look. despite it, house’s eyes radiate blue.
it’s too intimate for you and house, and yet you keep still. he’s kept to himself all these years, only to have you cut into his bubble between the hookers he distracts himself with. he thinks that’s where his resentment of you stems from, but it’s never really been quite hatred, he realizes. you’re the same, lonelier than you would like to admit. no one, so it seemed, could tug on your heartstrings except this man you found nothing but annoyance for.
house is perplexed. his mouth is agape, nothing quite registering to allow his neurons to fire and form words. something of his old self manifests, and a warm feeling feathers his heart. a touch like this was no stranger to that ghost, but all the other flirtations he makes falls in comparison. there’s only you and him
his sense are faint yet heightened, just from his proximity to you. biologically speaking, he’s doing really well, and he can hear his pulse pounding, and feel yours mirror his. he’s forgotten what this feels like, but sure it was this, and that makes his heart race faster. it’s almost dizzying.
house continues to direct his eyes on your curled hair, unsure of how to look at you. he considers leaving without another word, but he feels stuck to you.
you mirror house, too dazed to do anything. an overwhelming euphoria shoots through you, the sort of nervous excitement that makes you feel like a teenager. you’re younger than house, and you bite your cheek like you were 17 with your crush. you’re all too aware of your inexperience now, unsure with your wild heart. nevertheless, you muster the courage to finally break your trance. so you push on his chest lightly, finally meeting his eyes.
you blink. he’s tall.
the realization makes you swallow nervously. you open your mouth, but like house, nothing quite comes out. your hand still rests on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his pulsing heart. you try again, this time with house. both of your lips fall open, tongue failing again. but his eyes are enough. all you want to do is kiss him, so you lean in and kiss him again.
yes! and thanks for reading!!! i got some lined up, and one ready to go. it takes me some to write, since i jump from idea to idea and may repurpose material for another, so i got a few in my drafts. they'll soon see the light!
matter of fact i'll post the one ready to go now! have fun reading <3
