Hello my name is Cass or Puff, and I write fics for House MD and DPS
My favorite characters are Robert Chase, James Wilson, and Neil Perry, but I can write for pretty much everyone.
Asks and suggestions are VERY appreciated, so don’t hesitate.
☆Rules☆
I don’t write smut, I do however take requests for any other type of fic and headcanons.
EDIT: Requests are closed until summer. My inspiration is completely gone and i’m #burned out academically. I’ll try my best to complete those pending ones I have tho. SORRY FOR THE DELAY!
☆A bit about me ☆
☆ HUGE NERD. I love space, sitcoms, drawings and singing.
☆ Currently obsessed with House MD, MYCT’s (Grian, Mumbo, LDShadowlady…) and DPS
☆ Pretty introverted, but I’d love moots (I’ll follow back from my main acc, chikinnuggiez)
☆ I’m still on season 3 of house. NO SPOILERS PLEASE
☆ I’m a native Spanish speaker, but I speak English better (somehow) and I’m also learning French
“You have 3 choices in this life. Be good, get good, or give up”
word count: 2.9K
summary: After a devastating loss, Ilia Malinin escapes Milan with you on a spontaneous Italian road trip that slowly turns heartbreak into healing.
a/n: Hi there everyone! Sorry for the absence, my motivation has been zero AND I injured my wrist and couldn’t write for two weeks. Anyhoo, I’ve been obsessed with the Winter Olympics and, of course, with Ilia, so here you go. Also yes, I did write this on a 5h car ride. ENJOY!
warnings: Hurt-comfort. Ilia is a sad boi after placing eighth in the Olympics. ILIA AND READER ARE DATING.
It was 5am when the sound of an alarm you hadn’t programmed stirred you awake. The room was completely dark and the sun hadn’t risen yet — of course it hadn’t, it was 5am, and the earliest you had seen it rise in Milan during your stay was at 7:20am. You looked around, disoriented and still half asleep, when you noticed that Ilia’s side of the bed was completely empty. You sit up, suddenly very aware of your surroundings, when you hear a soft chuckle come from the window.
”Rise and shine.”
Ilia.
You let out a soft sigh of relief, the tension that had built up in your body dissipating.
“You scared me. I thought you had left.” You huff, crossing your arms, to which he chuckles in return.
”To where? I’m already done competing, and the next games don’t start until 10am.” He turns to face you, leaning against the open window. The only light that came in was the one from a lamppost on the street below.
”Then why are we awake? And why did you set an alarm?”
”Well, since we’re here, I thought we could do some exploring.” He replies, as if waking up at 5am to explore was something completely normal.
”And where do you plan on going? I doubt anything’s open yet.” You can’t help scoff. You tended to get a bit snappy when tired, and that only made him chuckle even more.
”I thought of a road trip. Italy’s big, and we don’t necessarily need to stick to Milan.” Ilia walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
”Won’t your coach get mad if you’re gone?”
“Eh. He’ll just think I’m still grieving.” He shrugs, and you can’t help the pang of concern you feel for him, the memory of the past days resurfacing, alongside the one of him falling and ending up in eighth place. Still, you keep a tough façade for his sake.
“Do you have any places in mind? Or are we just going to grab the car we rented and drive?”
“Okay, hear me out. We go from Milan to Pisa, we can have brunch there in a cute little place I found on instagram next to the Leaning Tower. Then we go to Florence and explore around, and lastly go to Rome, where we can spend the night and come back tomorrow.”
You stare at him dumbfounded. Damn, he had really thought this through. You can’t blame him for wanting to get out of Milan for a while though.
“That… actually sounds pretty good.” You hum, stretching a bit. He smiles softly.
“Great! Then you better dress up quickly, because Pisa is kinda far and we want to make it there early.”
He stands up and moves quietly around the room, careful not to bump into anything in the dark.
It’s almost strange. The Ilia you’re used to is usually loud in the mornings, dramatic about how early it is, stealing your blanket just to annoy you. Now he just folds it back neatly, like he needs something to do with his hands.
You watch him pull on his team jacket. His expression is calm, controlled. The same look he wore when the cameras were inches from his face. The same small smile he gave when people told him he’d “still done amazing.”
He catches you staring and lifts a brow. “What?”
“Nothing,” you say softly.
He walks over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. It’s soft and sweet, yet controlled. He looks at you, taking in your tired expression, and he softens.
“You don’t have to wake up this early for me,” he murmurs. “We can just stay.”
You know that tone. Casual. Light. As if this whole trip wasn’t his idea.
“I want to,” you tell him.
That makes him pause. Not long, but enough to make him smile a bit more. Warmer, like he used to before. He then nods, brushing his thumb over your cheek before turning away to grab the keys.
The hotel hallway is quiet as you step out together, your shoulders brushing. The ride down to the lobby is silent, and when you step out, you reach out to grab his hands which he squeezes back. The sky outside is barely turning grey, the city still asleep.
────୨ৎ────
A few minutes later, you’re in the car. He adjusts the mirrors, checks his phone, sets the GPS — all small, precise movements. Focused like he always is. You can’t help admire his features under the dim light from the lampposts outside — his chiseled jaw, his soft blonde hair, and those gorgeous blue eyes you loved to get lost in.
Before he starts the engine, you reach for his hand again.
He doesn’t look at you right away. Just squeezes your fingers, tight, grounding. Then he exhales softly, almost to himself.
“Okay,” he says.
The car starts.
And this time, when he pulls away, he lets his hand stay in yours.
Ilia starts to drive in silence, and you can feel the fatigue slowly creep back. You lean against the window, looking out at the few remaining stars in the sky as your eyelids grow heavy. You don’t know how long you’re asleep for, but when you’re awoken by Ilia’s soft voice, the sun is already fully out.
”Good morning. Sleep well?” He tucks the strands of hair that had draped over your face in your sleep back behind your ear. You hum, still half-asleep as you rub your face.
”’Morning. What time is it?”
“9:30. We just arrived in Pisa. You slept all the way through.” He hums back, his hand staying on your cheek as he cups it softly.
“Oh. Sorry for that.” You pout, to which he replies to with a soft kiss against your lips.
”Don’t worry. You’re cute when you sleep, you know that?” He chuckles and his hand slips from your cheek to your chin.
”Oh shut up.”
He chuckles. “With pleasure.” With that he leans in again and kisses you properly.
────୨ৎ────
By the time you two leave the car, the sun was well up in the sky.
Ilia drags you around Pisa, pointing out anything he finds relatively interesting — he even pointed at a seagull because he said it was “the biggest seagull he had ever seen”. People try to approach you two, asking for autographs and pictures, but Ilia completely ignores them, too focused on you. He takes you to a cozy cafeteria near the Leaning Tower of Pisa, where you eat the best French toast you’ve eaten in a while, before he drags you into the Leaning Tower, skipping the line due to his reputation.
You take photos together, and for the first time in all the days you’ve been in Italy, he seems genuinely happy.
”How about we take a walk near the Arno river? I heard it’s gorgeous.” You suggest, your hands grabbing the railing on the balcony of the Leaning Tower.
”Let me search it up, because I heard they also do boat rides around it.” He takes his phone and searches something up. “There’s a boat now at 11pm, or we can rent a private one. Which do you prefer?”
“The public one’s fine. I think the private one’s best at night to see the views oh so romantically.” You step towards him, your hands fidgeting with the strings of his jacket.
”Sounds fair.” He texts something else before putting his phone back. “There. I just bought two tickets. Let’s go before we lose the boat.” He grabs your hand and pulls you with him, which earned you some glances from the passing tourists, but you couldn’t find yourself actually caring when you’re with him.
“Let me open the GPS to see how far away it is-“ He searches up the river and goes silent, looking at you. “Did we seriously just buy tickets for a boat tour that leaves in 30 minutes when we’re 50 minutes away by car?”
You stop dead in your tracks, looking at him with wide eyes.
”50 minutes away?”
”50 minutes away.”
”By car?”
“By car.”
”How did we miss that?” You chuckle incredulously, and he joins.
“No idea.” He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Let me see if I can get a refund, or at least change it.”
”Gosh, we’re hopeless, you know that?”
”Very much aware. One second.” He raised his hand as he brought his phone to his ear, calling the boat tour company. You stayed where you are, fiddling idly with the hem of your sweater and kicking a pebble on the sidewalk.
Looking around, you take everything in — from the beautiful sky and green grass to Ilia, who is arguing with whoever is on the phone from the boat company. You look at him fully, not missing a single detail. You observe how his shoulders are the slightest bit tense, and you couldn’t blame him. The Olympics had ended up horribly for him, and despite it looking otherwise, you knew he hadn’t been coping all too well.
He must’ve noticed you staring at him, because he turned to face you, still on the phone, and waved. You waved back at him and saw how that faint tension you had previously observed dissipated, and you couldn’t help feel happy. Happy that he was feeling better. Happy that you were with him.
Eventually, he got off the phone and walked back to you.
”So bad news, they’re not refunding us.” He shoves the phone back into his pocket. “The good news is we have nothing else to do. So I ask, would you rather stop by in Florence and have lunch there, or straight up go to Rome? We’d have to stop on the way to have dinner though, but if we went to Florence, we wouldn’t have time to explore though.”
You hum, thinking for a moment. “Depends. Did you have any specific place planned for Florence?”
He shakes his head, and you shrug in response.
”Then let’s just go to Rome, there’s more to do there.”
He nods and starts to lead you back to the car.
────୨ৎ────
This time, you didn’t fall asleep in the car. You stopped by the small supermarket near where the car was packed to buy a few packs of chips and cookies, as well as drinks for the 4 hour trip. Ilia was a bit hesitant first, not wanting to break his diet, but you managed to convince him. Currently, you two were eating a packet of Cheetos Footballs as he drove through a countryside road. You both had abandoned the idea of stopping for lunch, having already eaten a sandwich from the same supermarket.
“I can’t believe they call these ‘pelotazos’ here.” You comment, feeding Ilia one, who gladly eats it.
“They’re also not neon orange, which in my opinion, is a huge improvement.” He replies, mouth full and with some crumbs on the corner of his lips. You snort at the sight and wipe the crumbs off with your hands.
“I believe these are healthier. These only have 155 calories.” You shove a handful into your mouth, savoring the less artificial flavor that these chips had comparatively to the ones they sold in the states.
Silence enveloped both of you as you looked out at the endless fields of deep and light green. The sights were stunning, and you found yourself enthralled by the views. At one point, you felt his hand slip to your thigh as he gently squeezed it. Your hand reached out to the radio and turned it up. Your face lit up as you recognized the song playing.
“Oh- I know this song!” You start to hum along the melody and he chuckles.
”Of course you do, don’t you? Is there any song-“
“I don't care how long it takes- As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face” You interrupt him as the chorus comes up, singing with verve. He goes silent, but listens to you with a smile as you give the song your all. When you finished, he clapped against the steering wheel and you playfully bowed.
”Thank you, thank you.” She chuckles, smiling proudly.
”You should be on Broadway with your amazing singing skills.”
”I know right! No one gets me except you.”
He chuckles again and shakes his head. “We’re arriving in about an hour. Could you find the hotel address?”
”Sure. What’s the name?”
”Palazzo delle Pietre.” He replies, trying to put on his best Italian accent. You snort at the lame result.
”Sounds fancy.” You search up the hotel and go wide-eyed. “Ilia. How much did the night cost you here?”
“A gentleman never tells.” He smirks, seeing your shocked expression. “Don’t worry. I haven’t gone bankrupt. Nor have I had to sell a kidney.”
You huff, searching up the address on your phone and opening the GPS, setting it besides his phone.
”I still don’t know how you manage to do these sorts of things.”
”PR handles a lot.” He shrugs nonchalantly, yet you can see the glimmer of joy in his eyes from having made you happy.
”I seem to keep forgetting who you are, Mr. QuadGod.” You tease and he grins.
”Don’t worry, you won’t keep forgetting after this.”
”Is that a promise or a threat?”
“You decide.”
────୨ৎ────
The hotel was stunning. It looked like an old coliseum from outside, yet the inside screamed old money and expensiveness. You swore that you had seen the chandeliers that hung casually around the whole building in a Swarovski magazine. While you looked in absolute astonishment at the man dressed in a perfectly pressed tux play the piano in one side of the main lobby, Ilia checked in at the main desk. A few minutes later, he tapped your shoulder, holding the room keys in his other hand.
”Got the room key. Want to go upstairs?” He tilted his head in the same adorable way that always made your knees feel weak.
”How did you manage this-? Like, actually Ilia.”
“I’ll be honest with you. I asked my dad for any hotel recommendations, since he’s been here already, and he apparently knows the owner.” He shrugs, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind and pulling you close against him. Your hand comes up to his hair, leaning back against him with a soft hum. You both swayed to the sound of the soft piano before he pressed a kiss against your shoulder.
“Come on. I wanna see if the room is as good as the lobby.” He chuckles, dragging you with him towards the elevators.
The elevators were made of gorgeous white quartz and golden accents. They screamed expensive in a way you have never seen an elevator do before. Your room was on the second floor, so the ride was quite short. When the doors finally opened, he let go of your waist to instead grab your hand, leading you down the hall.
The room, alongside the whole hotel, was huge. The walls were pure white with some wood veneers, there was a huge double bed in the middle of the room, a couch, a TV and a huge window with embroidered curtains. You walked over to the bed and plopped down on the right side, Ilia following suit on the left side, his hands lacing over his chest as his legs dangled off the edge.
You roll over to your side, facing him as your eyes trailed over his profile. Feeling observed, he moved his head to look at you too.
”What?” He asked, his voice soft so as not to disrupt the peaceful ambient between you both.
”How are you doing?” You finally reply, asking the question he had been dancing around for the past days.
He shifted uncomfortably, shrugging. “I’m okay-“
“No you’re not. Don’t lie to me Ilia. How are you doing? Really.” You frown as he avoided the question yet again. He moved his head again, looking away from you and at the ceiling. He shrugged again.
”I’m… surviving, I guess.” He shrugged yet again. Seeing your lack or response, he continued. “I just wanted to get out of there. Away from the press.”
You sigh and reach out, placing a hand over his laced ones. He unlaces them and grabs your hand.
After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up. “Thank you.”
”For what?” You hum. He shifts fully to face you, his free hand coming up to your cheek.
”For this. For coming with me. For not leaving. For-”
”Ilia…” You mutter.
”For being the one I can rely on.” He interrupts you. He sighed softly, and you put your free hand over his one on your cheek.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
”No, I do. I don’t know what it is, but, as long as I’m with you-“ he lets out a small sad chuckle. “As long as I’m with you, it’s like all my problems go away. You make me forget about everything, and live in the present instead of dwelling in the past or panicking about the future.”
You look at him. Really look at him. And with a soft smile, you reply.
“I love you, you know that? And I’m never going to leave.”
He pauses for a second, and you can see his eyes turn glassy with all the tears he didn’t shed in these past days.
”Can you say it again?” He mumbled, his voice quivering.
Your smile softens further. “I love you, Ilia Malinin.”
”God, I love you too. So damned much.” He lets out a choked breath and pulls you into a kiss.
req for Wilson x a reader (transmasc/gn) with a chronic pain flareup mayhaps..doesn't have to be specific, but if possible it can be PCOS-related :> !!
★⋆ Baseline⋆ ★
James Wilson x Transmasc!Reader
word count: 773
summary: You were a man. Some days, you felt like it more than others, and today was one of those you didn’t feel like one.
a/n: Phew! This was a hard request, and I literally had no idea what else you write. Still, I enjoyed being able to “project” the pain I suffer from PCOS to the reader.
warnings: Angst and comfort, reader is in an established relationship with Wilson, but it can be read as just colleagues.
You were a man.
Some days that truth was effortless, like breathing or talking. Other days, like this one, it was something you had to keep repeating to yourself constantly, something that had to be held onto deliberately. Because as your knuckles turned white as you clenched the pillow to overcome the pain your body was in, you didn’t feel like one. Pain like this had a way of making everything feel negotiable, even things that you had for certain.
You lay on the couch with your hand pressed to your stomach, heat blooming uselessly against something deeper, crueler. The flare was familiar. Uninvited, overstaying its welcome, convinced it owned you. You focused on counting your breaths instead of the way your joints ached or the way your hormones felt like they were laughing at you.
You had tried endless treatments, yet none of them worked. Instead, you found yourself every once in a while stuck at home as the pain itself became too much to bear anywhere else.
It felt ridiculous. Humiliating even. You were a doctor, for gods sake! You’re used to seeing people with much worse problems keep on with their lives. But you just couldn’t, and just like every time the pain flared up, you stayed home.
The front door opened.
You didn’t have to look to know it was Wilson. The way he always paused for a second at the door, reading the room so as to know how to approach you. When he finally did, he didn’t ask stupid questions. He just crossed the space between you and made himself part of the moment.
“Hey,” he said softly, like saying your name without saying it. He sat down on the edge of the couch, placing a hand on your shoulder.
His hand stayed there, warm through the fabric of your shirt, neither gripping nor slipping away. The pressure was careful, intentional and just enough to remind you he was real, that you weren’t alone in your body right now. It grounded you in a way the heating pad couldn’t, something steady against the constant, shapeless ache.
“You weren’t in today. Are you okay?” He gently rubbed your shoulder, his voice gentle enough to make your breath hitch.
Wilson didn’t rush you. He never did. He just stayed there, thumb tracing slow, absent circles into your shoulder like he had nowhere else in the world to be.
“Hey,” he murmured, when your breathing stuttered again. “Look at me for a second.”
You finally look up at him. Your eyebags were more prominent than usual and that made him feel even more concerned.
“Good,” he said. “There you are.”
You swallowed hard, tears blurring everything. Your chest hurt almost as much as your body did, like all the feelings had decided to pile on at once. Crying felt unfair, like your body was cruelly reminding you of all of the things upsetting you one on top of another. You hadn’t planned on it, but you couldn’t hold it back either. Emotions leaked out like a fountain while the pain burned deep inside as a constant.
“I know,” Wilson said quietly, as if you’d told him everything already. “Days like this mess with your head. But it’s okay, you’re strong.”
He shifted so you were leaning into him more fully, one arm braced behind you, the other steady at your shoulder. “But listen to me. This pain? It doesn’t define you. You define yourself, okay?”
A breath. Slow. Grounded.
“You’re allowed to fall apart a little. You’ve been holding it together for a long time.”
Your hands curled into his shirt without thinking, knuckles tight. Wilson noticed, and stayed exactly where he was.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice dropping. “I’m not going anywhere. Cry if you need to. Be angry. Be sad. Be quiet. Whatever this is, I can sit with it.”
He rested his cheek against your hair, breathing in the faint floral scent of your shampoo. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I believe you. I believe your pain. I believe you.”
Another pause, then—gentler still.
“And just so we’re very clear,” he added, “nothing about this makes you less of a man. Bodies are messy. Men have bodies. Sometimes those bodies are unfair.”
His hand squeezed your shoulder, reassuring. Solid.
“We’ll get through tonight,” he said again. “I’ll help you breathe through the worst of it, and when it eases, even if it's just a little, we’ll take advantage of that. One step at a time.”
You let yourself sag against him. Let yourself be held.
“That’s it,” Wilson murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
I would love to see some angst and comfort (happy ending) w Todd Anderson abt like the reader being insecure or smth.
★⋆ Between your lips⋆ ★
Todd Anderson x GN!Reader
word count: 1.7k
summary: You've never struggled academically, yet your crippling fear of speaking in class always gets in the way. After a disastrous class Todd comforts you and makes you see that not everything is speaking out loud.
a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! Tysm for the ask!! Here you go, hope you enjoy it <3
warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Reader has a panic attack.
You’re used to knowing all the answers.
Not in the typical arrogant way, just quietly and reliably. Facts settle easily in your mind, lines of poetry cling to your memories like they want to stay there. Dates, themes, meanings, anything. You listen, you absorb, and you remember.
The others noticed long before you did.
Neil once joked that you were a walking encyclopedia, flipping imaginary pages embedded into your brain every time someone had a question. Knox added that it was unfair, that nobody should be allowed to know everything without any sort of struggle, especially when you memorized an entire poem he had been struggling with for weeks in twenty minutes. Even Charlie admitted that you were their secret weapon when it came to class projects and exams.
You laughed every time, waving them off while insisting that it wasn’t a big deal. But they never see the work you put behind it.
They never see the way you stay up until way past curfew rehearsing answers under your breath every night. They never see the way you imagine and try to predict the teacher's questions and practice responding in front of the mirror, where no one is watching and no one is judging. They never see how you always tell yourself that tomorrow, you’ll try.
You never knew why when you were with them, you were able to answer anything without any lingering fear, even laughing and speaking out your mind without the need to think twice. That, of course, didn't happen in class. Whether it was your need for approval or everyone’s stares, you couldn’t bear the idea of raising your voice to answer a question. Even if it's something basic like two plus two.
That morning the classroom smelled faintly of chalk and old paper. You had spent the entire breakfast revising with Todd any possible questions because, out of all of the poets, he was the only one who you felt truly understood the fear of speaking up.
”What’s the powerhouse of the cell?” He asks before taking a sip of his orange juice.
”The mitochondria, easy.” You reply. You knew the whole unit by memory.
”Okay, what are lysosomes?" He looks up at you.
“Lysosomes are organelles that contain digestive enzymes that help break down waste and cellular debris.” You nod along, completely confident in your answer.
Todd smiles at this, confirming the answer in the textbook. “It's correct. You know pretty much everything. You have nothing to be afraid of.”
“You’re right Todd. Thanks.” You smile back as the bell rings.
”It’s nothing. If you need anything, you know I sit two tables ahead. And Neil is right beside you.” He reassures you.
You nod and tuck that away in the back of your mind as you head down the hallway with the rest of the class. The noise swells as lockers slam and voices overlap, but you feel oddly focused, like something just clicked into place. Todd’s words linger longer than you expect, steadying you as you push open the classroom door and step inside.
When you arrive at the classroom, you sit straighter than usual, with your notebook open and your pen aligned perfectly beside it. The problem written on the whiteboard talked about a one called organism with several issues, which you were supposed to identify the cause of. You’ve seen this problem before, and you knew the answer.
The teacher was absent that day, and Dr. Hager was substituting them. He started asking students at random, and you silently responded in your head. You’re completely ready to answer the question.
”-and what do you think?” Dr. Hager makes eye contact with you and you freeze.
You look up, heart pounding in your chest so loudly you’re pretty sure everyone around can hear. You meet his gaze, expectant, waiting, and your heart drops to your stomach. Everyone around you is looking at you now, the silence deafening.
The answer is right there. You can feel it on the tip of your tongue.
You open your mouth, and your throat closes.
It catches you off guard, like a door slamming shut in the middle of a horror film. Your words collide inside your head and fall apart. Your lungs forget their rhythm, and you feel like you're suffocating. Your hands go cold.
You try to breathe—try to remember how you had recited the answer in front of the mirror last night with utmost confidence. You know it by heart, but nothing comes out.
Absolutely nothing comes out.
The silence stretches on around you. You can hear it growing, filling the cold room. Someone shifts in their seat. Another person shuts their book. The clock on the other side of the room is ticking far too loud.
”So?” Dr. Hager speaks up impatiently.
Your heart is racing now, wild and uneven. You try again, forcing your lips to move. A sound almost comes out, but it dissolves into a breath before it can exist. Heat rushes to your face and you turn slightly red, shame creeping up your neck.
A quiet snicker from Cameron breaks the silence, accompanied by Neil, who’s sat right behind him, kicking his chair with a frown and earning a small ‘ow’ from Cameron.
Your stomach twists. All that practice was reduced to nothing. All those careful rehearsals after midnight turned completely useless.
”Anyone else?” Dr. Hager looks around, unimpressed.
Cameron raises his hand to reply, but you’re too embarrassed to even hear it. You stare down at your notebook, the familiar lines and notes blurred and useless now. You find yourself unable to look upwards, feeling the judgmental stares from everyone in the class.
When you finally manage to look up, you notice how Todd is turned in his seat, watching you with an expression that is borderline pitiful. He opens his mouth to try to whisper to you, but the teacher catches him and forces him to look at his desk, his ears turning red from the embarrassment.
Time seems to pass by in a haze, and the class bell rings. You stand up in haste, not even bothering to pick up your stuff before walking out of the classroom. On your way to the door, you overhear Charlie telling Cameron off for snickering when you were struggling.
”What? It was an easy question.” Cameron tried to defend himself.
”Yeah, but you don't laugh at your friends when they’re struggling, asshole.” Charlie spits back.
You can’t bring yourself to smile at Charlie’s defense, too lost inside your head as you bolt outside the classroom into the buzzing halls.
The hallway feels wrong the second you step into it. It’s too loud, too bright, too close, like the building itself is pressing in on you. Voices crash together into a single overwhelming noise, sharp and judgmental, and even when no one is looking directly at you, it feels like everyone is. Every laugh sounds pointed. Every whisper feels like it is about you. Your chest tightens hard, breath snagging as if your lungs forgot how they are supposed to work, each inhale coming too fast and never quite deep enough.
You start walking, then it turns into something closer to running without you meaning to. Lockers blur past on either side, stretching endlessly, the floor seeming to tilt beneath your feet. The hallway feels eternal, like it keeps adding more space just to keep you stuck inside it. You can feel eyes burning into your back, real or imagined, criticizing the way you move, the way you breathe, the way you are falling apart in public. The exit sign feels like a lie, always just out of reach, and you sprint toward it anyway, heart slamming against your ribs, ears ringing, convinced that if you slow down even for a second, the walls will finally close in on you.
You burst out the main doors, taking a gasp of air as you force yourself to stop.
Cold air hits your lungs hard, almost painful, but it is real and it is outside, and that alone makes it better. You bend forward slightly, hands braced on your knees as your body shakes through the aftermath, breaths coming in uneven pulls. The noise of the hallway dulls behind the doors, replaced by distant voices and the hum of the world continuing like nothing just happened. Your heart is still racing, thudding too loud in your ears, but at least the walls are not closing in anymore. For a moment, all you can do is stand there and breathe, reminding yourself that you made it out.
Todd skids to a stop a few steps behind you, slightly out of breath, concern written all over his face.
“Hey. Hey, it’s okay,” he says gently, keeping his voice low like he is scared of spooking you. “I saw you bolt and I just… I wanted to make sure you were alright.” He waits a second, giving you space before continuing. “What happened in class? I thought you knew the answer.”
Your breath hitches and you nod, tears welling in your eyes.
”I did! I just- I couldn’t-“ You gasp in between starts, sobs threatening to burst.
”Hey, hey! Breathe-“ He interrupts you, grabbing one of your hands and placing it against his chest. “Feel my breathing. Now try to follow along. In… out…” He instructs.
You try to follow along, your breathing shaky and erratic. He shifts closer, not crowding you, just there.
“You don’t ever have to force yourself to speak if you’re not ready. You know you know the answer, and that’s more than enough.” His expression softens.
”But I want to be able to reply in class! I don’t want to go blank.” You sniff, wiping away some tears.
”Then we can practice. Together. You know I also hate speaking up.” He places his other hand on your shoulder and you look at him.
”But I-“
”No buts. You’re not a burden, and you do not bother me. In fact, I like practicing with you.” He puts a finger against your lips, and for the first time since class started, you actually laugh. He pulls you into a hug, and suddenly all of your problems seem to fade away.
The world feels quieter after that, like someone finally turned the volume down. Your breathing evens out against his shoulder, the tight knot in your chest slowly loosening as the moment stretches on. For once, you are not thinking about who might be watching or what you should be doing next. You are just here, held, safe, and allowed to exist without apology. And for now, that is more than enough.
──────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────
EXTRA
”Be a voice, not an echo.” Todd pulls away from the hug with a smile
”Did you just quote Albert Einstein?” You snort, looking up at him
word count: 1.7K
summary: You’re the only one who seems to notice how Neil isn’t quite himself after his father’s visits. One late-night chat in a secluded spot on the campus turns into a heart-to-heart about dreams, fears and choosing oneself.
a/n: First Neil Perry fanfic! I got the DPS book for Christmas and I can’t stop thinking about him.
warnings: Angst with comfort and a happy ending. Neil doesn’t
shoot himself after A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Mr. Keating isn’t fired.
Today was one of those days that Neil’s father decided to show up unannounced.
You were all hanging around in Neil and Todd’s room, studying for an upcoming Latin test that you were all sure you were going to fail. You hadn’t been able to go out to the cave since it was pouring, and the study hall was packed with those who usually studied outside, so Meeks had managed to sneak some whiteboards from the lab into the dorms and had started to attempt to teach everyone the Latin content.
The only ones actually paying attention were Neil, Todd, and you. Charlie was too busy doodling women’s busts in his notebook, Knox was writing poems for Chris, and Pitts was just there. Cameron hadn’t been invited to the club this time, since Charlie was pissed at him.
“I still don’t get it.” Charlie actually looked up at Meeks, who huffed.
”Charlie—you’re not even paying attention. It’s Agricola, Agriculturae, Agriculturae, Agriculturāum—“
”I give up!” Charlie collapses backward against the bed and you can’t help but chuckle.
”You’ll get the hang of it soon, Charlie.” Neil speaks up. Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door.
“I’ll get it.” Todd stood up from his bed, waiting for Meeks to hide the whiteboards, in case it was a teacher, before opening the door. On the other side, looming over him, stood Mr. Perry, with his signature frown. Neil immediately noticed him, tensing up.
”A word, Neil?” Mr. Perry spoke up. Neil stood up with a faint frown, that nobody but you seemed to notice. He walked over to the door and exited the dorm, with Mr. Perry closing the door right behind him.
Nobody spoke about what had happened, and you couldn’t help glance at Todd, who was staring back at you with a concerned expression.
You didn’t see Neil until well into dinner.
When the bell rang, all of you left the dorm and headed towards the main lunchroom, but Neil was nowhere to be seen in the dorm building’s halls. Even when all of you arrived in the lunchroom and grabbed your dinner trays, you couldn’t focus on Charlie’s bickering or Knox’s lovesick comments. The only thing on your mind was Neil, and where the hell he was.
You picked at your food, your mind so preoccupied that you didn’t notice Neil arrive and sit down next to you until you heard his voice.
”Hey guys, missed me?” Neil smiled, yet you noticed how it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You jumped a little, fork clinking against the tray. For half a second, relief flooded your chest, warm, dizzying, and stupidly intense.
“Wow,” Charlie said, leaning back. “We thought you got abducted by your father.”
Knox laughed a little too loud. “Or ran away to Broadway without telling us.”
“Tempting, but impossible.” Neil chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “The Broadway part, not the ‘being abducted by my father’ part.”
You didn’t laugh. You just stared at him, eyebrows furrowing together before you could stop yourself. “Where were you?”
The whole table went silent. Suddenly Charlie became very interested in his plate, and Meeks and Pitts stopped talking about free radio. Neil hesitantly took a bite off his plate and spoke up without looking up.
”Just had to talk with my father.” He practically muttered.
You tilted your head. “Neil.” One word. That was all. But it landed heavily.
He finally met your eyes, and his smile faltered the slightest bit. Close enough that if you weren’t looking for it, you’d miss it. But you were looking. You had been looking all night.
“I’m fine,” he said quickly, too quickly. “Promise.”
Charlie opened his mouth, probably to say something sarcastic, but Todd shot him a look and he shut up, which was rare. Instead, Charlie started chatting again with Knox, and everyone seemed to drop the subject. Everyone except for you.
You leaned closer, lowering your voice as you whispered into his ear. “You don’t look fine.”
Neil exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh. Almost.
“You sound like my dad.” He said, too quick to process it.
Then immediately, regret flashed across his face the second he noticed what he had said.
Oh. There it was.
Your chest tightened. You didn’t push; you knew not to. Instead, you nudged his knee under the table, a quiet “I’m here” without making a whole scene.
“Okay,” you said softly. “Then eat. We’ll talk later.”
Neil’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction. He nodded, grateful, and for the first time since he sat down, his smile looked a little more real.
“Yeah,” he said. “Later.”
Dinner went by as usual. You talked about what to do at the next society meeting, criticized Dr. Hager and Mr. McAllister, and even practiced your homework verses for Mr. Keating’s lesson. When the bell rang and everyone started to get up and take their trays back to the kitchen, Neil tried to get away, but you grabbed his arm before he could.
”You agreed to talk later.” You stop him from leaving with Todd, which earns you a groan.
”Where do you want to talk? We’re going to get killed if we’re caught sneaking out,” he protests.
”Which is why we’re not sneaking out. We’re staying inside the campus. There are no rules that prevent us from being outside our dorms until midnight.” You slightly pull on his arm. He looks up at the clock at the entrance of the lunchroom. It was 9:30 PM. Damn it.
“Okay okay—“ he grumbled. “Lead the way.”
You allow him to set down his tray on the kitchen window before pulling him out the side door, the group long forgotten behind. The cool night air hit both of you, and you couldn’t help but shiver. With a fierce determination to get the answers you so desperately needed, you dragged Neil to a secluded bench in the courtyard, the only light illuminating both of you was the one of the distant full moon.
”Seems like there’s a full moon today.” Neil comments as he sits down.
“Stop avoiding the elephant in the room.” You cut him off, standing up in front of him with your arms crossed. “What’s going on?”
He looked down, his feet kicking a pebble on the path, and your expression softened. You sigh and uncross your arms, sitting next to him and gently setting your hand on his shoulder.
”Come on Neil, you know you can talk to me. We’re all worried about you. I’m worried about you.” You speak up tenderly, rubbing his shoulder.
“My dad has my whole life planned already.” He pauses. “Medical school at Harvard for ten years and then a doctorate in whatever obscure thing he finds. He doesn’t even ask what I want to do!” He kicks another pebble harder.
You remain silent, bordering on speechless. The silence stretches.
”Not like he cares what I want anyways.” He mutters dejectedly.
“That’s not true—“ You start, but he interrupts you.
”Yes it is! It’s like—no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough for him.” He lets out a choked sigh. “It never will.”
Neil is quiet for a long time. His jaw tightens, and you can feel the tension in his shoulder beneath your hand. He stares straight ahead at the path, eyes unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely.
“My dad doesn’t listen,” he finally says. His voice is low, careful, like if he speaks too loudly everything might shatter. “He decides what I’m going to be before I even get a chance to figure it out myself.”
He lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head. “He calls it concern. Says it’s for my future. But it feels like I’m suffocating.” His fingers curl into the fabric of his pants. “When I played Puck in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’—on top of the stage—I felt alive. Something I haven’t felt in ages.”
Neil swallows hard, blinking rapidly. “I keep wondering what I did wrong. Why can’t I just be what he wants?” His shoulders sag, exhaustion written all over him. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending this doesn’t matter.”
The silence between you is so thick, someone could cut it with a knife. Seeing your lack of response, Neil sighs.
”Forget it. It’s stupid.” He stands up, but you stop him halfway through.
”Carpe Diem.” You finally speak up.
Neil pauses, expecting anything but you quoting Mr. Keating. “What?”
”Carpe Diem, dummy! Seize the day!” You stand up in front of him, and he stares at you in utter bewilderment.
He blinks twice, letting out a shocked chuckle. “You actually mean it.”
”Of course. Our time here is limited; who cares what the rest thinks?” You reach out both hands for him to take, but he hesitates.
”You think that I can just… choose?” He finally looks up at you and you smile, nodding.
“I’m being serious, Neil. You don’t have to live your life for anyone else.”
He blinks hard twice, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I thought you were just trying to make me feel better.”
You shake your head softly, voice steady. “No. I wouldn’t lie to you about this. You can do it. I know you can.”
His laugh is small, shaky, almost disbelieving. “And you… really mean that?”
“Yes,” you say, smiling gently. “Every word. Even if it scares the crap out of you.”
Neil exhales slowly, letting his shoulders relax for the first time in hours. His eyes meet yours, and he smiles, taking both of your hands and standing up.
”Carpe Diem then.” He nods with a wide smile. You yank him toward the grass, but your feet tangle and suddenly you’re both toppling, landing against the cool blades of grass. The world disappears under your laughter.
Both of you know that if anyone sees you outside, the trouble you’ll be in won’t be small, but under the stars and laying on the damp grass beside each other, you can’t bring yourselves to actually care.
With a faint smile, you look at him. “Carpe Diem, Neil Perry.”
And with an expression matching yours, he replies.
word count: 1.4K
summary: you were an NICU nurse who worked in House’s team, and the maternity ward outbreak affected you more than expected.
a/n: Sorry for the pause! Finals were horrendous and drained me completely.
warnings: Smoking, reader is from Europe (country not specified though)
It would be an understatement to say that there was turmoil. Nothing had been able to stop the epidemic in the maternity ward. The infants were either going to die from a super bug or they were returning to stage one because neither of the medications had worked.
In any case, one of these babies had already passed away, and the others were probably going to follow.
You were absolutely devastated.
Everyone was crouched over the table in the silent House's office, including Cameron, Chase, and Foreman. Wilson paced around the room with a hand in his hair, and Cuddy stared at the autopsies of the dead infant.
It wasn’t looking good. You were starting to run out of ideas and treatment options.
”Did anyone notice how low his BP was at the end, even with the three pressers?” House said, forming a theory in his head. Despite this, even he looked and sounded exhausted.
“Heart damage?” Wilson stops pacing.
”Caused by us? Doubt it.” Cuddy spoke up.
House just sighs, thinking about something before deciding otherwise. He looks around and sees everyone’s tired faces before sitting down on his chair.
”Go home. There’s nothing else we can do for now.”
You immediately stood up and hurried out of the room, leaving your stuff behind. You could feel all the stress of the day start to accumulate in your chest, making your breath labored. You really needed to get out, and fast.
Deep into your incoming panic, you heard someone call from a distance, but you couldn’t figure out who it was nor tried to. You were practically running down the empty sterile halls, the act of breathing becoming increasingly hard as the time passed by.
You took a sharp left turn, trying to avoid the maternity ward, and found an emergency exit, practically slamming the door open and taking a deep breath of the cold winter night air.
You practically collapsed against the sidewalk’s pavement right beside the door, the ringing in your ears flooding the silent night as you tried to catch your breath. Your hands curled around the bottom of your scrubs and you pulled out a packet of cigarettes out of your pocket, lighting it before taking a drag.
Amongst your panic, you didn’t hear the door open beside you. Someone sat down next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder, which caused you to flinch and look up. It was Chase, looking at you with a concerned expression.
”I thought you stopped smoking.” He comments.
“I did.” You replied, but then looked at the cigarette in your hand. “Most of the time.”
Chase huffed and looked forward, glancing at her with an unreadable expression.
”You know those things can kill you, right?” He replies. Not scolding, but concerned, yet his face gave away no feelings.
“So can anything else in the hospital. I could trip and fall down the stairs, catch a deadly disease, get assaulted by a psychotic patient-” you didn't notice that you had started to ramble when you felt his gentle yet firm hands pluck the cigarette out of yours.
He discarded it to the side, stepping on it to make sure it was completely out. You sat there, in silence, watching him do so.
”I was smoking it, you know.” You state, looking from the extinguished cigarette to his face.
”Not anymore.” He shrugs, and you can’t help but groan. He looks at you—really looks at you—before shaking his head. “Something’s clearly tormenting you, so talk.”
You let out a breath. Not quite a laugh, but not quite a sigh either.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you mutter, which is the most obvious lie you could’ve picked. Real smooth.
Chase doesn’t call you on it right away. He just leans back on the concrete wall, hands on his knees, gaze fixed somewhere across the dimly lit courtyard. He’s giving you space, but not an escape. Classic him.
“Uh-huh,” he says finally. “That sentence has never once meant what people think it means.”
You swallow, jaw tightening. The hospital looms behind you, all concrete and fluorescent doom, humming like it’s alive. Like it’s watching.
“I’m just tired,” you try again. “Long shift. Still not used to patients dying.” You look down at the pavement.
”I don’t think anyone gets used to it. Maybe less affected, but never used to it.” He hums. “I still remember the first time I lost a patient. This woman, mid 30’s. I was overwhelmed that day and I failed to diagnose a bleeding ulcer. Not even two weeks later she was dead. All because of me.”
You stare at him, not knowing what to say. The silence between you stretches, and when you think he’s about to leave, he turns his head fully toward you. Not dramatic. Not intense. Just present. And somehow that’s worse.
“You’re shaking.” He says quietly.
You hadn’t noticed. Now that he’s said it, you tuck your hands into your sleeves, shoulders curling in on themselves like you can fold the feeling away.
“People shake,” you shrug. “It’s a thing.”
“Yeah,” he replies. “So is bleeding. Doesn’t mean you ignore it.”
“It’s cold. And I forgot my jacket inside.” You can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine, letting out a small, cold huff. He, of course, notices this, and he takes off his own coat and drapes it over your shoulders, leaving his lab coat as his only jacket.
You were about to protest when he silenced you.
”Don’t. I’m used to the cold. On a good winter day in Australia, the highest temperature is 50ºF,” he noticed your puzzled expression. “Or 10ºC in European units.” You let out a small oh. A gust of faint, yet cold wind hit you, which caused you to clench the jacket tighter. He just chuckled.
A small white fleck falls on your leg. At first you think it’s just ash or dust, but then another white fleck lands on the sleeve of Chase’s coat—your coat now—and doesn’t melt right away.
You blink. “Wait.”
Another falls. Then another.
Snow.
You tilt your head back, breath catching as the sky starts sprinkling down soft, quiet flakes like it’s trying not to interrupt. The courtyard light catches them, turning everything hazy and unreal, like the world hit pause for five seconds.
Chase follows your gaze. For a second, he just stares.
“…Huh,” he says. “The weather app didn’t mention it snowing tonight.”
You just stare at the falling snow in disbelief. You had only seen it snow once in your life, and didn’t know it could actually snow there. Despite the chills going through your body, you take your hand out of the coat’s pocket and reach out, a few snowflakes falling on top.
”It’s actually snowing.” You can’t help the smile creeping on your face. The snow had apparently removed all your struggles, or at least made you forget about them temporarily.
”What, you’ve never seen snow?” He smirks, wiping a snowflake that had fallen on his sleeve.
”I’ve seen snow, I just haven’t seen it snow.” You correct him. Snow continues to fall with more intensity in front of you and you stand up, grabbing his arm and pulling him up with you. “Come on! We have to go out there-”
”Woah there- calm down.” He chuckles, standing up and letting you drag him under the intensifying snow.
You open your arms and spin around a few times, your previous solemn expression completely gone and replaced by a wide smile. Chase just stands there, hands inside his lab coat’s pockets and smiling softly, letting snow cover him.
”Aw man, there’s not enough snow yet to make snowballs.” You playfully pout, kicking the faint layer of snow covering the courtyard’s grass.
”Yeah well, it just started. Maybe tomorrow there will be more.” He walks over to you as your expression lights up at the possibility of there being more snow tomorrow. A snowflake falls right on the tip of your nose, and Chase gently cleans it off, making your expression soften and match his fond one.
He lets his hand linger for just a second more than necessary before pulling back.
”Come on,” he nudges you. “Before I have to explain to House tomorrow why one of his ‘lackeys’ has turned into a popsicle.”
You laugh, but you don’t move right away. The snow keeps falling, slow and patient, and for once your thoughts are just as quiet.
“Thanks,” you say, barely above a whisper.
He pauses, then nods. “Anytime.”
And as you walk back inside together, his coat still around your shoulders, the day doesn’t feel as bad as before.
word count: 1.7k
summary: Chase’s precious Joey goes missing. Chaos ensues.
a/n: omg I wasn’t expecting the first post to be so loved <3 Anyhow, here’s part two. PART 1, can be read independently though.
warnings: Fluff, Chase panicking over a stuffed kangaroo.
The day had started more or less normally in the Diagnostics Department:
House banging his cane on the floor to demand attention, Foreman looking done with life, Cameron pouring herself yet another cup of coffee, and Chase… Chase quietly reviewed labs while the tiny kangaroo plush sat in the corner of his desk like some kind of personal totem.
Until suddenly, it wasn’t there.
Cameron noticed first.
She looked up from her mug and at Chase’s desk. “Where’s the deformed kangaroo?” She hums.
“It’s right here-“ he reaches out to grab it, but is instead met with the cold surface of the table. He looks up, then at the ground in case it had fallen, then back at the empty table. He remained silent for a second, before tensing up. “It was here before.”
”Well it seems like it isn’t anymore.” Foreman comments. Meanwhile, you were trying to suppress a smile, feeling the kangaroo’s soft fur inside your purse.
”Where is it…” Chase stood up, heading to his locker to search for it inside. Nothing.
”You lost the kangaroo?” You finally speak up, trying to keep the most serious face you could. Despite this, you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from curling, and everyone but Chase noticed.
“I didn’t lose it-“ he immediately replied. “Someone moved it.”
Just then House walked in, limping on his cane. He dropped the case file on the main table and looked at everyone. His eyes focused on Chase’s frantic expression.
”What’s got your panties in a bunch? Someone dumped you?” House grinned, dropping down onto his chair and tapping his cane on the ground. Twice.
”House, don’t start-“ Foreman rolled his eyes
”Oh wait! The kangaroo is missing! Can’t believe you lost the abomination.” House let out a sarcastic ‘tsk’ before leaning back on his chair with a mocking expression, which caused Chase to frown more. You had to force yourself to look away, desperately holding back your laughter. Your hand clenched tightly around the plushie before forcing yourself to take a deep breath and look concerned.
Chase’s worried expression was utterly adorable, and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep the plush hidden.
“Do you want some help looking for it?” You try to put your most convincing concerned expression, setting down the papers in her hand.
He looks up at you and nods. “Yeah…” he muttered.
You stand up, glancing at Cameron who looked at you as if she already knew what you’d done. Gently, you place a hand on Chase’s shoulder and accompany him out into the cold, sterile hallways, while House mockingly does ambulance sounds yelling ‘THE KANGAROO IS MISSING, SOMEONE FIND IT’ in the background.
“You really care for it, huh?” Your expression softens, his genuinely sad expression melting your heart. Your hands brushed together and you almost intertwined them. Almost.
He looks up from the ground and at you. “I don’t care, it’s just- “ he tries to shrug nonchalantly, but tragically fails. “I got used to having it.”
”So you’re saying you’d miss it if it was actually gone?” Your smile widens and you follow him into the radiology room. He immediately bolts towards the empty control room and starts searching around, kneeling and searching beneath the cabinets, swearing under his breath when he doesn't see it.
He shrugged again and stood up, opening the drawers and pulling out the papers and digging into the drawers.
”Maybe he went back to Australia.” You comment, leaning against the doorframe of the control room’s entrance with a smirk.
”It’s not funny.” he grumbles, shoving the papers back into the drawer and walking out, not caring to close it. You walk to the drawer and close it, hurrying to not loose track of Chase.
”If he did, he’s finally reunited with his family. Don’t you want that for him? Or her? Whatever. It.” You continue to tease him, which earns you a glare. You chuckle. “Maybe I should get you a koala next. Or a pair of boxing gloves.”
”Are you being intentionally stereotypical?” He looks back at you, annoyed.
“Maybe.” You smile. He groans and keeps walking. You have to speed up so that you can keep up. “Oh come on! You can’t tell me it isn’t the slightest bit funny!”
”Not at all.” He scoffed.
Chase opens the clinic’s doors, and the quiet from the hallway dissipates into the chaos of the ER. It smelled like condensed people and hand sanitizer in there, which caused you to have a double take on the abrupt change from the cold, sterile and hypoallergenic halls. Chase practically drags you towards the nurse's station and starts searching under the desks, ignoring the nurses’s protests.
You start apologizing to the nurses, who scoff at Chase’s behavior in such an inconvenient moment. He opens every single drawer, searches under every single desk, and looks on top of every single shelf, yet there was no sight of the kangaroo plush.
“Dang it!” He stomps on the ground like a little child, which causes you to snort. He shoots you a glare, and you immediately regain your composure.
“Sorry- sorry.” You apologize.
”It’s not here.” He slams a desk drawer shut, earning a glare from the nurse in that desk. “I never thought I’d care so much about a stupid plushie.”
”It’s not just a plushie, is it?” Your expression softens slightly, and his cheeks turn rosy. He shrugs, and looks at the ground avoiding eye contact, which causes you to blush as well.
Cameron, who happened to have clinic duty at that hour, spotted them and walked over.
”Still looking for your marsupial mascot, Chase?” Cameron smiles, leaning against the pillar in the center of the nurse’s station.
Chase scoffs, and you can’t help standing closer to him.
“I bet that if he lost a patient he wouldn’t be half as panicked.” You decide to tease, sensing the tension coming from Chase. He gasps.
”Liar. You know I care for my patients.” He lets out a small ‘tsk’, yet he can’t help the fond smile at you.
”Never said you didn’t, golden boy.” You smile back at him.
Cameron, sensing the spark in between both of you, raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of her mug.
”Okay lovebirds. Have you checked the break room?” She suggests.
Both of your faces immediately turn beet red. “We’re not lovebirds!” Both of you say practically together, which causes Cameron to laugh.
”If you say so. Just saying, the break room is a good place to look.”
Before you had had time to recover, Chase was grabbing your wrist and pulling you with him.
The next place you two search, thanks to Cameron’s suggestion, is the break room, which despite the cleanliness smells like bleach, cold black coffee and stale donuts. Chase opens drawers and finds absolutely nothing. You, on the other hand, peek over a trash bin, pretending to be invested in the search.
”Maybe it escaped and found a new home in recycling.” You toss a used cardboard cup into the blue bin destined for recycling cardboard. He just shakes his head and runs a hand through his golden locks, clearly annoyed with himself.
Chase opens the supply closet briefly and closes it again, disappointed. You go to the coffee machine and look at the empty drawer beneath it, hearing him mutter “nothing here. Again.” under his breath.
”I’m never going to find it.” He buries his face in his hands and you walk over with two coffees, silently placing one in front of him with two sugars and a splash of milk. Just like he liked it.
”Don’t be so pessimistic, Chase.” You take a sip of your own coffee, placing a hand on his back as he does so too.
”At this rate, any of the kids in the pediatric ward could have it.” He takes a sip and pauses. “Wait, maybe that’s where it actually is!” He stands up and immediately rushes out. You practically sprint behind him, concerned that he would take some random sick kid’s kangaroo claiming it’s his own.
”Woah there! Wait up! Stop!” You call after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to a halt. He stops abruptly in the middle of the hall, yet he pulls from your arm a few times impatiently.
”What’s wrong? Come on! It’s definitely there!” he pulls again, still not looking at you, but you don’t budge.
Your hand instinctively reaches into your purse, feeling the plushie. “Chase..?”
“Yeah?” He turned around, still pulling your arm. You took a small step closer and opened your purse, peaking out the kangaroo’s head. Chase froze.
His eyes widened. Then narrowed to you. Then widened again.
”You…” He trailed off. “It was you who took it?”
”Maybe.” You murmured with a shrug, feeling the heat crawl up your neck.
“Why?” He softly asked, but deep inside he already knew why.
You opened your mouth to explain, but he beat you to it. He stepped closer, close enough that you could see the faint yet visible blush on his cheeks.
“If you wanted my attention…” he murmured, voice low, “…you could’ve just asked.”
Your breath hitched at the sudden intimacy. Then, he gently reached out and into your bag, grabbing his funky kangaroo with precise movements.
”But stealing my buddy? Very bold.” He adds, briefly glancing at your lips then back at your eyes.
”Well I-“ you stutter, trying to defend yourself, but he cuts you off by taking your hand in his.
”And effective.” This time, he leaned in and kissed you. Your brain, which had been going a thousand miles per hour turned blank, and you swore your heart skipped a beat at the intensity yet gentleness of the kiss.
But just as quick as it started, it ended. He smiled at you, really smiled, and tucked the kangaroo beneath his arm, before walking away and to wherever he needed to go, leaving you stunned to silence in the hallway.
word count: 1.4k
summary: You encounter a kangaroo plushie while on your strolls and inevitably think about Chase.
a/n: First fanfic in the fandom! Had this idea for a while tbh.
warnings: fluff
The first time you saw it was during your usual evening walk around the neighborhood.
It was a cold winter afternoon. Your oversized Bernese Teo pulled on his leash as he ushered you towards your building, excited to reach the comfort of your warm living room when you walked past it. There, in the middle of a children's store display, was a cute small kangaroo plushie with round eyes and a stupidly chubby belly.
You stared at it for a moment, smiling slightly at the cute plushie before walking by and back home.
The second time you saw it was after your shift at Princeton-Plainsboro.
You decided to take another route back home, exhausted and wanting to get there early. It had been a particularly rough evening, since the patient’s condition had worsened drastically without logical reasoning and the whole team was now going nuts trying to stabilize their condition.
It wouldn't be a lie to say you were used to things not going your way, and you knew that if the patient had to die, you couldn't do anything to stop it, but it still felt like a knife to your heart when the patient's condition took a turn to worse and everything you did was useless.
This time, when you walked past the toy store you paused. The small kangaroo was still there, staring back at you with its stupid beaded eyes. You walked towards it and smiled, seeing how one eye was slightly higher than the other, and how the fur seemed soft.
You couldn't help being reminded of your teammate Chase, the charming, witty and stupidly handsome Aussie who had captured your heart as soon as you stepped into the glass office that House’s diagnostics department was.
It was stupid, you knew, but a part of you kinda wanted to buy it and subtly gift it to him, or just drop it off anonymously on his desk one morning just to see his reaction. Would he smile? Or even laugh? Gosh you couldn't help but imagine his stupidly handsome face as he laughed-
A loud thud brought you back to your senses as the owner of the store closed the iron gate that protected the front door and loudly closed the lock, walking away without a word. You shot one last glance at the silly kangaroo before reluctantly walking home.
The third time you saw it you were chatting with Cameron.
You two had bonded quite a bit, being the only two girls of a team of pompous men. It was early afternoon, and the two of you were heading to your place after having lunch at the new lovely salad place Cameron had suggested.
This time, it was actually her who spotted it.
“Hey, have you seen that kangaroo plushie?” she comments, ignoring your rambling about your dog. You stop and look at it again, pretty much having memorized its appearance by now.
“Yeah I have, a few times actually. I walk by here often,” you reply, humming as a mother walks into the store with their hyperactive child. “Why? You want it?”
“I just thought its cute.” She shrugs with a pause. “You know what would be funny? Giving it to Chase.”
You stop walking, looking at her with wide eyes. Has she read your mind? Or was it just just something anyone would do? You choose to hide your shock slightly, but your cheeks still turn rosy.
“That's dumb.” You lie unconvincingly, turning your head away so that she doesn't see the blush, but it was too late, the smug smile was now plastered on her face.
“Uh huh. Right. Whatever you say, Miss crush”
“I do not have a crush!” You spit back, glancing at the plush before chasing after her as she practically jogged away chuckling.
The fourth time you saw it you actually decided to buy it.
House was sick that day (surprising, I know), so you were able to slip away and clock out early. Determined and high on insomnia, you marched towards the store and walked in, but your biggest fears came true when you didn't see the plush.
You frantically searched around the toy store, thinking that some little kid had taken away your only chance to make yourself stand out to Chase, when you finally saw it. There, next to the register with a sign that said ‘Last Unit! 50% Discount!’, stood the wonky and lame plush kangaroo. You practically sprinted towards it, grabbing it with the same delicacy you'd grab a baby with, and slammed it in front of the old lady behind the register.
“Just this-” you pant, pulling out your wallet with haste. The lady just smiled and wrapped it carefully in gift paper and stuck an obnoxious golden bow on top, putting it inside the bag. After paying, you grabbed the bag as if it were the cure to cancer and practically rushed back home.
You spent the rest of the afternoon thinking how you would approach him. Would you say hi and just give it? Maybe you could subtly drop it off at his desk? Whatever, tomorrow you'll see.
The next day, you woke up extra early. You got dressed nicely, your stomach in knots of anxiety and excitement, and you went to your kitchen to have breakfast, practically skipping of joy. It was rather ridiculous, to be feeling so giddy about something so dumb, but you couldn’t help it. You had planned to arrive extra early that day, so that you could casually drop it in his desk and act surprised if he asked if you knew who it was, but destiny had other plans.
Despite arriving over half an hour early to the office, Chase was already there, sat on his chair with a pencil in his mouth, a sudoku in one hand and the other hand in his hair. You froze at the door, not expecting to see him yet, and even less with the gift bag in hand. Sensing your presence, he looked up and spotted you in the door
”Morning,” he smiled, raising his brow in curiosity. “What's that?” He sets down the sudoku and puts the pencil beside it. You blink twice, internally debating whether to flee or actually give it to him. Remembering the hassle it was to obtain, you decided the latter.
”It’s for you.” You smile back sweetly, trying to hide how you’re absolutely petrified.
”Okay..?” He stands hesitantly, walking over and taking the bag. He takes out the wrapped object and unwrapped it, revealing the very stupid looking small kangaroo.He does that soft blink he always does when he’s caught off-guard, like his brain just short circuited for a second. Then he smiles—that tiny, shy, slightly tilted Chase smile that looks like it escaped by accident.
”You got me a joey?” He looks up at you, looking more amused than unimpressed. “It’s because I’m Australian, right? Very original.”
”I saw it on my way home, and thought it looked like you.” You look at him with fake confidence, trying to hide how mortified, but the rosy tint of your cheeks gave you away.
”It’s deformed.” He matter-of-factly says
”It gives it charm.” You spit back
”It’s tiny.” He snorts
”It’s a baby!” You scoff, offended. “You know what? Give it back, you don’t deserve it anymore.” You reach out to grab it, but he stops you.
”Nu-uh! Mine.” He smiles nonchalantly, but his cheeks were also rosy.
Your eyes narrow. “You said it was tiny and deformed.”
”I didn't say it was a bad thing!” He lifts it up to his face, looking at it up close and pinching its cheeks. He laughed at how one was rounder than the other. “It’s… pocket-sized, like you.”
You gasp, offended. “Oh that’s it, I’m taking it back-“ you lean over to grab it, your face accidentally getting a little too close to Chase’s. He takes the opportunity to press a kiss to your cheek before walking back to his chair and plopping down.
”Too bad, should’ve thought twice before giving it to me.” He grins smugly, as if he wasn’t blushing intensely now and as if he didn't know his kiss had made your brain short circuit. You opened your mouth to say something, but the rest walked in and both of you had to act like nothing had changed.
