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i really wanna write but i just cANT. i’ll sit down, get comfy, but then my mind just goes completely blank and black and dark and nothing. i don’t know maybe i’m just over the whole fanfic scene cause it used to come so easily to me but it’s so hard to write one word. BUT I STILL WANNA WRITE SOMETHING. gosh darn bruv
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I think I might be aro. Aromantic. It's a weird concept. Asexual was weird enough simply because we live in a sex crazed society, but it's not too bad, not too weird to not be into sexual stuff at this age. But being aromantic is different - everyone is assumed to have a crush at some point, if not constantly. And I might have had a crush before, I might have not. But I think, at least recently, the people who I thought I liked, they just interested me. It wasn't quite looking up to them, but more of wanting to figure them out I guess? Idk, but I'm not really sure at this point. I think that, for now, I'm going to keep my bio as "asexual and a something romantic" because at this point, it fits me better.
Hi was hoping you could either do a valentine thing with Gregory house (house m.d) where everyone is surprised he's with the sweetest girl in the hospital who doesn't take his shit and decides to do something romantic for her. If you don't know what house md is then can you write a newt one where he gets her the whole rose and chocolate thing.
Gregory House X Reader – Something Romantic
A/N – I started watching House because of this request and now I’m in a binge hell so thanks for that.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
Cameron, Chase and Foreman hovered around the door to their conference room, observing House with mild curiosity. House had been staring at the same spot on the whiteboard for ten minutes, occasionally lifting his marker to write, then deciding against it and putting it back down; so far, he’d only written the word ‘IDEAS’ and underlined it twice for effect.
“What’s he doing?” Chase whispered to his co-workers.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Foreman replied, looking into the dregs of his coffee.
“Maybe he needs help?” Cameron suggested.
“From us? He’d rather jump out of the window- No, he’d rather throw us out the window.”
“D’ya think he’s finally cracked?” Chase queried.
“I think he cracked a long time ago and it’s just showing now. Maybe his hardware fizzled out, when was the last time he updated?”
“Hey,” House interrupted loudly, “Remember when I asked for your opinion? Me neither.”
Chase sloped into the room like a reprimanded child, Foreman merely shook his head and moved over to the coffee machine for a refill, and Cameron walked to the whiteboard, voicing the question which was on everyone’s mind, “Is this for a case?”
House sighed irritably, torn between the need for help and his desire to keep his personal life separate from work, “I need ideas.” he admitted reluctantly. “Something romantic.”
The trio fell into a stunned silence.
“Oh yes,” House spoke sardonically, turning to face everyone, “please, save your breath, you’ll need it for the next stupid thing to come out of your mouths.”
“You have a date?” Chase finally stated in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“As in tonight? An actual date?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously? On Valentine’s day. You have a date on Valentine’s day?!”
“I’m sorry, am I speaking another language? Will an Australian accent work better?” House cleared his throat to do his closest imitation of Chase. “Aye mate, I’ve got a date that’s not with a kangaroo.”
“Who’s it with?” Cameron asked, curiosity prickling at her.
“Like he’s gonna tell us.” Foreman remarked from the other end of the room.
“And points to Foreman for being the smartest here other than me.” House replied, picking up the marker again.
“If you tell us, we’ll suggest ideas.” Cameron bargained.
“How about this? First person to come up with something romantic gets to pick the next case.”
“Date to the movies.” Chase yelled desperately, quickly sparking the competition.
House copied the word movies onto the board, working methodically as he did when on a case. He put a line through it, staring derisively at Chase, “Movies are overrated, much like your opinion.”
“Uh, candlelit dinner for two.” Cameron volunteered.
“Ahh yes, a cripple ice skating. I suppose (Y/N) could just pull me along on a sled.”
A hush fell over the room as House realised his mistake. It didn’t take long before Foreman began laughing hysterically at the irony of the situation.
“(F/N) (L/N)?” Foreman cackled. “The nurse? The really sweet one who stays over to talk to some of the patients? That (Y/N)? No. No way. There is no way you got (Y/N) to date you. What’d you do? Use chloroform?”
“Hey, I could get a (Y/N), I could get a million (Y/N)’s, in fact, I did get a (Y/N) and yes, it’s the one you’re talking about.”
“How long have you two been together?” Cameron asked in a mix of happiness and slight jealousy.
“It can’t have been longer than a week.”
House glowered resentfully at everyone, right now they were pushing him past his limits of how much he would allow them to know about his personal life. “All three of you should go and take a long walk of a short bridge, I’m sure that would be a lot more entertaining.”
“Alright House,” Wilson entered the room, rifling through his pockets distractedly, “I planned you the perfect date for an anniversary.”
“How many times do I have to say it? If it’s not a year, it’s not an anniversary.”
“So how long is it then?” Cameron asked again.
“Six months now.” Wilson answered preoccupied with his search.
“Six months! Wow. Congratulations.” Chase smiled in awe.
“You know Chase,” House tilted his head slightly, “one day, you’ll go far, and when you do, I really hope you stay there. Now go, all three of you, out. Go find someone dying or play in traffic; go do something that won’t completely bore me.”
Chase, Foreman, and Cameron left quickly, clearly waiting till they were out of earshot to discuss what they’d just found out.
House took out his bottle of Vicodin, swallowing two pills then scowling at Wilson, “You know, people like you are the reason I’m on medication.”
Wilson glanced innocently back at House, “Why? What did I do?”
“Never tell those three anything, it only adds to their methods of bothering me.”
“Come on House, they’re a good team, they can’t annoy you that much.”
House sighed, limping to his cane which was stood against the conference table, “You’re right, they only really annoy me when they breathe.”
Wilson shook his head in disbelief. Although he’d known House for years, he still managed to find himself surprised by House’s narcissism on occasion.
“Come on then, what’s this perfect date you’ve so carefully set up?” House asked in an overly perky manner, filled with sarcasm.
“A trip to the museum.” Wilson pulled out two tickets.
“Wilson, I don’t know how you managed it but in five words you’ve managed to cross the border from the land of ‘useful’ to the land of ‘why do I keep you around?’”
“Hang on, I know it sounds unromantic but-”
“Nooo, unromantic? The museum? I’m sure everyone loves paintings of dead guys.”
Wilson continued unfazed, “It comes with tickets to the observatory which has a special Valentine’s display at six. Just think about it, a night under the stars with (Y/N).”
“We could go outside and do that for free.” House rebuffed, starting a challenge.
“It’s cold outside.” Wilson argued.
“We’d take coats.”
“The observatory has music.”
“I’d take a guitar.”
“What if it rains?”
“A big umbrella.”
“Snacks are provided.”
“We’d take a picnic.”
Wilson faltered momentarily before coming back with, “Public bathrooms.”
“We’d go outside.”
“Yeah, because that wouldn’t kill the mood.” Wilson countered dryly.
House’s brow furrowed as he considered his options. He snatched the tickets hastily, “Better than nothing I suppose.”
Wilson smiled in satisfaction, “Glad you’re seeing things my way.”
“You’re still an idiot.”
You walked into the room, interrupting the pair, “Be nice Greg, he’s your best friend.”
House spun around, hiding the tickets behind his back. He exhaled defeatedly. While he would’ve loved to argue further he couldn’t bring himself to do so now you were in the room; although you already knew he could be litigious and egotistical, he wanted to show you that he could be more, that he could be a better man. However, with Wilson nearby, he also didn’t want to display quite how close the two of you had become; with that in mind, he went for a weak half-argument.
“You’re right (Y/N).” He conceded, then turning to Wilson who was revelling in the small victory, he added, “I really wanted a battle of wits but it’s not fair to fight against someone unarmed.”
Wilson’s grin faded, turning into a look that conveyed a hidden message House understood clearly, “I’ll let you have this one because (Y/N)’s here – this isn’t over.”
Wilson left the room, calling warmly over his shoulder, “Nice seeing you again (Y/N).”
“You too Wilson.” You chirped after him. You faced House again, keeping a safe distance to respect his views of relationships in the workplace. “Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to go over tonight’s plans. Are we going from the hospital or…?”
“What time do you get off?”
“Five, is that alright?”
House considered the traffic from the hospital to the museum, then nodded. “Five is perfect. I’ll meet you at your ward at quarter past.”
“You’ll come to my ward? In person? Seriously?” You asked dubiously.
“Why shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what dates do?”
“Well yeah but I thought you wanted to keep this secret from- Ahh,” You smiled knowingly, “they found out about us.”
“I may have accidentally let it slip.”
“Alright. Well, if you don’t make a big deal out of it then I won’t either. See you tonight Greg.”
House scanned the area quickly, making sure nobody was around before hastily kissing your cheek, “See you tonight.”
His eyes followed you as you left the room, simultaneously content and apprehensive about the night ahead. It would either make him look like the kind of supportive man that you deserved or it would reveal that he didn’t merit a kind and tender relationship with somebody that could eventually love him. One way or another, House was going to learn something about himself whether he wanted to or not.
You appreciated the fifteen minutes that House had given you after your shift to get changed into something more casual, even if it was just the spare clothes in your locker. When House met you at the end of your ward you saw the other staff members whispering to one-another; your relationship would definitely be hospital news before the night was up.
After a 20-minute drive, you and House had fallen into easy conversation, mostly about music as House drove further on down a rather desolate looking route you didn’t recognise. Despite longing to know where the two of you were going you didn’t ask, mainly because House looked unusually anxious whether he knew it or not.
“No way.” You argued. “The Rolling Stones were way better than-” A loud, repetitive clanking sound brought the conversation to a halt.
“Damn-” House cursed, pulling into the road’s hard shoulder and putting his emergency lights on. “Give me a minute.” He grumbled, leaving the car and popping the bonnet.
You waited a few seconds before joining House in front of the engine which he was squinting at hopelessly. You pulled your phone out, using it to shine light over the engine, “Any clues what’s wrong with it?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t still be stood here.” House growled snarkily.
“Hey, don’t take this out on me.” You cautioned indignantly.
“I wouldn’t if you were doing something useful.”
“Fine!” You huffed, moving away from House and the car. “See how well you do without the light.”
You paced the side of the road, searching through your contacts for roadside assistance. The conversation with them was a short one and when you couldn’t answer where you were they asked permission to track your phone; something you politely accepted.
“One more thing,” the muffled voice of the operator stated, “are you alone?”
“No, I’m with a… a friend.” You finished lamely.
“Alright. We’ll be on our way as soon as we can but we have to wait for a vehicle to become available near your location, you could be waiting up to three hours, is that alright?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose exasperated, although you knew the man was just doing his job and sticking to a script, it was such a pointless question. “Sure… that’s fine, thanks.”
“Thank you for your time and cooperation, we’ll collect you as soon as possible.”
The phone clicked off abruptly, signalling the end of the conversation. You walked back to House who was still glaring at the engine.
“I made a call.” You informed him. “Roadside assistance are on their way but it could be a while.”
“Well good for us.” House sneered. “You made yourself real’ useful.”
“Uh-uh, no absolutely not. You are not going to treat me like this when I’m only trying to help.”
“Oh, trying to help. Is that what you call it? I call it annoying me with your presence.”
“Yeah, because you’re doing so much, staring at a piece of metal like you’re suddenly going to know how to fix it. It’s a shame they don’t put car maintenance in one of your medical books.” You fumed harshly.
“You know what? This is just like your kind, thinking they’re helping with useless jobs that will get people nowhere while somebody else does the real job.”
“My kind? What the hell do you mean ‘my kind’?”
“NURSES.” House exploded, throwing his arms out like it was obvious.
“WELL I’M SORRY I’M NOT SOME OVERPAID DOCTOR WHO DOESN’T EVEN SHOW UP TO WORK MOST OF THE TIME. I SUPPOSE I SHOULD BE THANKING YOU FOR EVEN DAIMING TO TALK TO A LOWLY PERSON SUCH AS MYSELF.”
“MAYBE YOU SHOULD.”
You glowered at House, “FINE. IF THAT’S HOW YOU WANT IT, I’LL WALK BACK.”
You turned to face the city lights which seemed dauntingly far away, yet still you stomped onwards, starting the long trek back even though it would probably take all night and you weren’t dressed for such a journey.
House stared open-mouthed, finally seeing the effect of his words. He grabbed his cane, limping after you, “(Y/N) wait. I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”
“Yes. You did. That’s the problem Greg, you did mean it.”
“No! I was- I didn’t-” He stopped walking. “I always push away the people I love.”
You faltered as fresh tears formed. You didn’t respond or rather, you couldn’t; you needed House to continue because whatever he said next would determine whether the past six months had been a waste of time or if it had been worth falling in love.
“I just… I wanted to be more for you. Tonight was supposed to be perfect and then we broke down…”
You shook your head, shivering in the cool night air. “That’s not a reason.” You whimpered. “That’s an excuse.”
“You’re right.” House confessed. “You deserve more and I want to tell you but I’ve spent so many years building up walls that I don’t know how to break them down.”
“What do you want to hear from me Greg? You want me to tell you that one day I’ll forgive you and we’ll laugh about it? Is that what you want?”
“No- I want… I want you.” House sighed defeatedly at your lack of response. “Stacy Warner.”
“What?”
“Long before you I was with Stacy Warner.” House made his way slowly towards you as he spoke. “I left her after five years because I was afraid I couldn’t make her happy. I want… I want to make up for that now. If you’re not happy with me then you can leave, we’ll wait for the tow truck together and you never have to speak to me again, but if this has meant something to you, if you’ve been happy with me these past six months, then please… stay.”
House touched your shoulder lightly, easing you around gently. You’d never seen him look more sincere or upset than at that moment; it felt wrong to see him without some form of his usual cocky grin.
“I don’t… I can’t…” You floundered helplessly.
House wiped your tears away gently, “Are you happy with me?” he whispered.
Memories of the past six months presented themselves like a film-reel in your head, while it hadn’t all been perfect you were sure that you hadn’t been happier in a long time. “Yes.”
“Then… move in with me.”
“What?! I don’t think-”
“Don’t think.” House cut in. “Just say yes.”
“Greg… I…”
House put his hand on the back of your head, bending down to kiss you. He dropped his cane, leaning heavily on you for support. You melted into the kiss, content to forget the night’s event as long as it meant you could be happy once again.
You pulled away breathlessly, “You’re insufferable.” You panted.
