house M.D.

wouldn't change a thing. ( gregory house x reader )

You met when you were assigned to the nurses' desk in the clinic, and you had witnessed House drawing attention by shouting about Cuddy's breasts. You suppressed a smile, holding out a patient's file to him.

He sent you a wink before heading to an examination room. From then on, his clinic hours increased, and he would often voice his latest dilemma when you tried to get him to see another patient after pressure from Cuddy. She found that House would listen to you more than anyone else, although not all the time, still a noticeable difference that she had assigned you to be his babysitter when he was doing clinic hours.

If you had to ask yourself when your feelings for House began, you would say it was when he would come in and give you a compliment that wasn't sexualized but sweet and sincere. Or you would say it was from the moment you met him, with the cheeky wink he sent your way.

Ever since he had woken up after getting shot, you hadn't seen him at all, but Wilson kept you informed on his condition. The ketamine treatment was successful so far, and when you saw House come in the hospital, drenched in sweat from jogging to work, you were thrilled that his leg was getting better.

You hadn't spoken in weeks until he returned to the clinic duty. Instinctively you looked at the doors when they opened, surprised to see House enter, standing at his full height, and no cane in his hand.

"Oh, great oracle, what do you got for me today?" He grinned.

You smiled brightly, refraining from hugging him as you handed him a case file. "Exam room one. It's a six on the interesting rating."

He raised his eyebrows jokingly, and you giggled as you watched him walk to exam room one. "We can talk about it over drinks."

It took a moment before you realized what he had said, and your laughter stopped when you realized he was serious. "A drink? Us?"

"Well, I drink. You drink." He said, walking over to you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, "When?"

"How about tomorrow night?"

You nodded, words failing you. House smiled before heading into exam room one.

Despite your nerves, the date ended well, and ever since, your relationship was hot and heavy. Most nights were spent at his apartment tangled in his sheets, and he had suggested moving in together. So what went wrong?

You knew he was trying to put distance between you and you were worried about what you had done to make him do so.

It was a delicate situation. You knew he probably had a million things on his mind or making a bucket list now that he could walk again. You weren't immune to his usual sass, although you had received an apology once when he had raised his voice at you during a stressful case.

You decided after two canceled dates and limited talking at work, you were finding out why.

He was sitting behind his desk when you entered and when he looked up at you, you could see a trace of regret and that he almost looked like he wanted to see you.

The speech you had practiced all day died on your tongue as you stormed to his desk, and when your lips parted to speak, all you could say was, "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you." He said incredulously.

"So what did I do? Why have you been avoiding me?"

He sighed, breaking eye contact. You moved closer, looking at him pleadingly, knowing there was something bothering him and you weren't leaving until you got him to open up.

"Well, tell me what I didn't do." You smiled softly. "I thought we were fine." You took a seat on the edge of his desk, "Talk to me."

"The pain's back."

You frowned, "The ketamine wore off?"

"Yeah, that's why I have this." He picked up his cane. "Shocker, I know. Turns out it's not a fashion accessory."

You weren't fazed by his sarcasm, reaching out to comfort him. "I'm sorry. I'm sure we'll find something else for you to try."

"There won't be anything else." He raised his voice, exhaling forcefully when he saw your shoulders deflate. "This is it."

"What does you leg have to do with pushing me away?" You asked.

"Don't you get it? It changes everything." He said. "No more jogging together, no steamy wall sex. I can't even carry you to bed to have sex."

"So...this is about sex." You stated slowly.

"Well, not all of it." He said. "I didn't want you to get disappointed when you realized the treatment was wearing off. Or be on the receiving end of mine."

You shook your head, moving closer. "You think I said yes to a drink because you got the use of your leg back? Greg, I could care less if you had two legs or one. I fell in love with the grumpy, miserable, side of you long before we went jogging together. Will I miss speaking that extra time with you? Probably. But I'm just glad that those bullet wounds weren't fatal and you're alive. I'll spend every day loving you if you'll let me."

He looked down and you stepped between his legs, placing your hands on his cheeks as you leaned down to kiss him. His hands caressed your back as you slowly sat on his lap, smiling into the kiss.

When you pulled apart for air, he murmured, "I'm sorry for anything I say when..." he trailed off when you placed a finger on his lips.

"I wouldn't change you for the world." And he knew you meant it.

His lips met yours passionately and you knew that the days to come would get harder but you wouldn't let him push you away again. You wanted to be there when the pain was at its worst and when it was just a slight tingle. You would take the brunt of his anger and know he didn't mean it. But most of all you would remember just how much you cared about each other, knowing that love would get you through it all.