#robert chase fluff

[daisywrites101]

Dr. Robert Chase x GN!Reader

Request: hi!! hope you’re doing well :) i saw you were taking imagines for house requests… was wondering if you could do something with a gn!reader and chase. something fluffy and cute if possible, like chase realizing his feelings for his best friend (being reader) and him trying to figure out how to confess ^^ thank you! have a great day

A/N: I hope that this is what you wanted! I took your idea and just ran with it! I apologize that this took awhile to get out. Life has been crazy lately between school and just some personal things going on. Enjoy the story!

"You are so miserable." Foreman says out of nowhere. Chase looks over at him, clearly offended. "What are you talking about, Foreman?" Chase questions. "You clearly have feelings for L/N. Ever since they started here it's pretty obvious that you like her, and not just like a coworker type deal, and more than you liked Cameron, which says a lot." he says then looks down into the microscope.

Foreman wasn't wrong. Chase had hard feelings for you, when Cameron explained to Chase that their relationship wasn't passing friends with benefits, he moved on. Soon after that is when you started. Having a background in pediatrics and in pathology, House deemed you as necessary to his team. Chase and you had become close, becoming best friends quickly, and Chase falling for you even faster, and it became blatantly obvious to everyone around you that chase liked you, except for you, of course.

"I don't know what you are talking about. Y/N and I are simply friends, best friends even." Chase claims. "Whatever you say, Chase. But you're calling them by their first name, and not to mention that you care for them more than you did for Cameron when the two of you had the fling you had, makes it totally obvious to everyone around the two of you that you like them. I am surprised House has not said anything at this point." Foreman explains, and Chase knows that he is right. Chase has never cared for anyone like he cared for you. when he noticed that you were having on off day, he always would buy your favorite drink to help you feel better. He would spend time with you, both inside and outside of work. Whenever he got the chance he would pair up with you during cases, either sitting in with you while doing MRIs, or even just sitting in the lab running tests, just like Foreman and him were doing now. House allowed you to stay and monitor the patient, but he assigned Foreman and Chase to run the endless stream of labs. It made sense that you stay to monitor him, given your history in peds, but he wished that he was with you. You made him smile, no matter what you did. You made him feel warm inside, more than Cameron did when he was with her. He knew that he wanted to tell you how he was feeling, but he was not sure how.

"How would you suggest I go about telling them how I feel?" Chase asks Foreman. Foreman pulls away from his microscope, looking at Chase baffled. Chase keeps a straight face, letting Foreman know that he is serious. "Oh you're serious." Foreman states. "Um, yeah, I would like to think so." Chase adds. "Look, just plan something nice for them, or you can straight up just tell them." Foreman says to Chase, being blunt but also trying to give him some advice. Chase nods, thinking about what he could do. "Thanks Foreman." He says then goes back to running tests.

Over the next few days, the case ended and the patient ended up having a case of sarcoidosis, and they received treatment. You stand in front of the mirror in your apartment. Your shirt hanging loose on your shoulders, and the waist band of your sweats fitting loosely on your hips. You stand there wondering if you look okay, as Chase had invited you to his apartment for a movie night. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but you still felt a tad self-conscious. What if you were dressed too comfortably? Should you change into something that fits, rather than something that is a few sizes too big? The thoughts are in your head are interrupted by a knock at the door of your apartment. You look over your shoulder at the clock on your night stand and it read 7:30 pm. He was right on time as always. You look at yourself one last time in the mirror, fluff your hair to make it sit how you would like it to, turn the nearby light off and head to the door. you open it to see Chase standing there. When he sees your face, his lights up with a smile, causing your own smile to form on your face.

“You ready?” Chase simply asks, hair falling in his face when he tilts his head slightly. You simply nod and he moves to the side so you can leave your apartment. You step out and lock the door behind you after you close it. Chase walks you to his car, and he opens the door for you, you climb inside and get closes the door behind you. He walks over to the other side, climbs in the car himself, starts it, and then begins the drive to his place.

You arrived at Chase’s apartment and he walks through the door for you, so he is able to hold the door as you walk in. You slip your shoes off and walk into the living room. Your jaw drops when you see the sight in front of you. There is a large bowl filled with popcorn in the center of the coffee table in front of the large couch. There are also two glasses of wine, two more with water, and there are some of your favorite snacks on a platter. You walk further into the room and look around you in awe. There were fairy lights hung on the walls to make the lighting dimmer, and there were tons of pillows and blankets on the couch. You turn around and face Chase, and see him standing there with a bouquet of flowers. Chase was standing there sheepishly, looking extremely nervous, but happy all at the same time. He steps closer to you and holds out the flowers for you to take, which you do. "Y/N, I have wanted to tell you how I feel about you for a long time but could not find the way to do it.” Chase says then pauses for a moment. You’re so dumbfounded, and honestly can’t believe what you’re hearing. Robert Chase, the one who would tell you how he felt about Cameron, was now admitting that he loves you. “I put all of this together to show you just how I feel.” He comes over to you and takes your free hand in his. “I love you, Y/N. I have for a while now.” Chase finally finishes. You quickly press your lips to his, in a quick but gentle kiss, in which he reciprocates. You pull away with a smile. “I love you too, Robert.” You say and simply smile. “Now, how about we continue our plans for movie night?” You say with a smile.

For the rest of the night, you and Chase sit on his couch, the flowers he gave you lay on the table next to the now empty bowl of popcorn and glasses. The two of you are now asleep on the couch, your body curled into his while he has an arm around you protectively.

[housemdfever]

Cherry Chapstick Part 3

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Finally Part!

Part 1

Part 2

I look behind to see Dr. Chase. "Letting your girl walk around alone? Be careful, I might steal her away," the guy taunts Chase. This pissed Dr. Chase off; he wraps his arm around my waist. Realizing he has been defeated, the guy gives up and walks off. "You're such an idiot!" Chase reprimands me. "And why is that?" I retort at his rude comment. "You look absolutely gorgeous tonight and you think you'll be safe just going off on your own!" he replies; I blush at his compliment. Trying to keep my feelings for him on the low, I question him. "Well why did you let me walk off when I said I was going to go socialize?" "I didn't think you'd actually do it!" he responds, sounding a little hurt. "You're supposed to be on here on a date with me," he follows up, sounding even more upset than before. "You've always been such a dense idiot," Chase himself looks defeated the more he talks. "What do you mean?" I ask him, very confused on why he seems so upset. Without responding he grabs my hand once more and drags me out of the venue. He seems to be cooling down from his earlier actions. "Dr. Chase? Are you okay?" I try to ask but I get no response in return. I frown at his standoffishness once more. Leaning against the wall was either the best or worst decision of my life, I would soon come to realize. Chase walks towards me and puts his arm above my head resting against the wall. His tall figure was overshadowing mine; I can't help but blush at his actions. "I lied earlier, I didn't ask anyone else to come with me. I asked you and only you," he admits. We sit in silence till he decides to speak once more. "You look gorgeous tonight and I can't hold it in any longer." I start getting flustered; he's right, I'm stupid for not realizing earlier. "I want you, please be my girlfriend," he practically begs while gazing into your eyes. Before I could respond, he moved his hands down to my hips and pulled me close. "I see the way you blush when I get close. I see the way you stare when you think I'm not looking. I see it all. Please tell me I'm not reading you wrong. Please tell me you want me too." He finally finishes his confession, awaiting my answer; he looks at me, almost desperately. A long silence draws out before I answer his questions. "You're right Dr. Chase. I do want you too. I would love to be your girlfriend." Chase's desperation turns to bliss at my response. He moves his hand from my waist to my chin, "So I guess that means I can do this now?" He smirks before kissing me. It shocked me but I slowly melted into the kiss. I never would have guessed that cocky bastard wore cherry flavored chapstick.

[kay101kim]

Winter Days

request <3

warning(s): none

pair: robert chase x gn!reader

one shot or hc: one shot

note: this is before he gets with cameron bc i imagined him with long hair and i think its cute<3 please enjoy! hopefully its not too short hehe

word count: 550

house md masterlist

The cold hit you directly on the nose, it almost felt like you could see yourself turn slightly red. And yet Chase was smiling like an idiot at you, grabbing your hand and leading to an open field close by. There were other people too, but most were kids with their parents and not grown adults like yourselves having fun. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle when you saw Chase reach down for a ball of snow.

“Need some help kid?” You teased at him before jumping onto his back and giving him a bear hug. There was a slight noise he made, but nonetheless seeing you happy and laughing was all he could ask for.

Chase eventually forgot about the snowball and instead suggested creating a snow angel. He covered your head with a hoodie and sat down on the soft snow, cold on his fingertips. You giggled when he visibled shivered at the touch, but so did you. The two of you made snow angels and stood up to see the results, teasing each other about the ‘mistakes’ you had made like not big enough wings or some other silly thing. When the snow day was coming to an end, most of the kids and parents had gone home, and while you were tired, there was something left to do.

Quietly, even while the snow was soft and mushy under your feet, you rolled some snow into a ball. Chase was quietly checking something on his phone and luckily you were quick enough to hit him dead center on the back. He turned around, very slowly for dramatic effect and without even blinking had scooped a snowball himself. You nearly missed his precise throw before going for cover at the playground, behind trees. He did the same, scooping one snowball after another. At times giving away your location because of each other’s snickering and teasing.

“Come on! You know I’ll win anyways~” Chase would say tauntingly, with an obvious smile in the tone of his voice. All you could do is scoff, come out of hiding and toss a snowball that likely hit your desired target. By the end of the fight, you were both soaking wet that it was surely settling into a cold, but at least the two of you would be sick together.

Chase said it was a tie, but you had obviously won by the time he was sniffling first on the field. You smiled, somewhat guilty and finally decided to go home, get cozy.

At home, there was surely someone getting sick (Chase), so some hot chocolate was made or maybe tea if preferred to warm the body. All wrapped in blankets, Chase cuddled with you while swaddled. The sweet and content sighs made for a perfect night before you set a kiss on his forehead, falling asleep to the crackling of the fire that night.

[eliotquillon]

as a change of pace from the time loop fic, would you write something fluffy? drabble or hcs.

getting the sense that i have been wreaking psychological havoc on all of you given the sheer number of anon asks i've had in the past few days begging me to pause the angst and write something fluffy LMAOO. i'm working on catching up with a few drabble reqs from before chapter 3 of time loop fic was finished but have some fluffy-ish chameron hcs to tide you over:

-chase bought cameron's engagement ring WELL before cameron finds it in s5 (and subsequently has her freakout about it). more specifically, he buys the stone for it as part of a necklace set he plans to give her for their first valentine's day together (that chase also secretly counts as their one year anniversary together since that's when they started their fwb arrangement, but is sensible enough not to say as much to cameron). he changes his mind about gifting it to her at the last minute because, well, it's an expensive diamond necklace and he doesn't want to scare cameron off (or, you know, let on to the whole 'i count the day we started casually fucking as the anniversary of our actual relationship' thing) and switches out the diamond out for something less showy, but doesn't have the heart to return the original stone. on their actual one year anniversary he books the appointment to get the diamond re-set into a ring, but gets the jewellers to keep it on hold for him until he thinks she's ready to accept. it's sheer bad luck that this happens to coincide with kutner's death and makes cameron think that this was a rash spur-of-the-moment decision lol

-there's a little phase right at the start of their relationship (when they're really in the honeymoon period) where cameron makes a bunch of excuses to tag along with chase to meet his soccer friends, or the guys he sometimes plays pool with at the bar, etc etc, purely so she can hear him introduce her as 'my girlfriend allison' because she gets such a kick out of hearing him say it. she finds this deeply embarrassing and never really owns up to it but also chase is very willing to go along with it because he ALSO loves getting to introduce her as 'my girlfriend allison'

-when they're at work, they like to just sit quietly together sometimes and don't necessarily talk at lunch. a bunch of house's fellowship candidates half-convince themselves that there's no fellowship up for grabs and that chase and cameron are just PRETENDING to be together and not work for house anymore as part of some epic prank because what couple in the honeymoon period just eats together in silence?? but really it's a fun novelty for them to not have to grab every minute they get together at work because they actually see each other properly outside of it now. that said they both find that particular rumour really funny and do play into it a bit until foreman begs asks them to knock it off because he's sick of having to give out reassurances that there's (probably) a Real Job At The End Of This

-well before they ever got together (or slept with each other, even), cameron and chase used to sometimes give foreman the slip and go out for Secret Post Work Drinks together after a particularly trying day. because foreman is still the new kid on the block and they're way more comfortable bitching about house to each other after having worked together as a duo for six months on their own. (this is also partly why foreman's meddling in occam's razor gets to chase so much and he gets so flustered around cameron--chase's brain freezes and briefly goes 'oh my god wait were those dates? have i been dating cameron? does cameron want to sleep with me??'. he is secretly a bit disappointed to realise he's being fucked with)

[judasiskariot]

🎃👻House Halloween Haul:

Trick or Doctor(Chase)!👻🎃

House MD: Chase x Reader / Chase x You

🎃☠🐈‍👻🎃👻☠🎃

👻HAPPY HALLOWEEN!👻

➹for: the one and only @alpydk

➹summary: Halloween dress up at the Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital. You are in for examination and get to see costumed Chase, who you want to keep longer than for Halloween or this doctor’s appointment…

➹pairing: Dr. Robert Chase x GN!reader, Chase x you

➹content/tags: fluff, comfort, fun, romance, slice of life

➹word count: 3,989 - ao3 - My turn on fantober/inktober

alpy had Chase headcanon: "chase dressed as steve irwin for halloween. inflatable crocodile under arm" So here it is 😁

I take no responsibility, because I have no idea how to write Chase 😅 (Sweet, puppy, sassy, sarcastic, emo, a little bit pissed?😄) Read at your own risk 😆

🎃☠🐈‍👻🎃👻☠🎃

Nurses with devil horns, doctor's assistants at the reception with halos.

Hopefully this was not a preview of your future after the treatment...

Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital.

Did devils and angels fit in with this? And superhero T-shirts under doctor's coats?

Your gaze wandered around, over bright glass fronts and water features. In any case, it was a hospital that probably got its income from well-heeled private patients, or something else. At least it couldn't have come from someone like you in the outpatient consultation. A nice hospital and maybe not quite your cub of tea, but because of your doctor's vacation you were referred here as the next medical contact point.

"House! You don't run away from me! House!", the voice of a woman tore you out of your thoughts and a black-haired head of curls scurried down the corridor accompanied by clacking heels. You could tell that despite her excitement, she tried to muffle her voice. Which she only moderately succeeded. Had she perhaps escaped a relative or a patient at all? A daughter who chased after her father?

The hospital seemed to be hectic and quiet at the same time. Many patients. A coming and going. Nevertheless, the reception staff, doctors and nurses always remained calm. Perhaps a little too relaxed. Unfazed.

Suddenly, your name was called and your next waiting station was the examination room.

"G'day," the door opened, "I'm Dr. Robert Chase. I have here your medical records and the notes of the symptoms from the registration."

A flowing doctor's coat, beige clothing underneath and... was a crocodile laughing at you from the pocket of the white coat? Was he actually a pediatrician?

To be honest, you pay less attention to what the young doctor said, because it was just procedure anyway. Your eyes were much more occupied with his appearance. He moved quickly, but by no means rushed or hurried. His words were routine, but still not disinterested.

But all the more it tickled your ears as he said it. There was an accent that you knew and liked. Where did you know it from exactly? And why did you like it exactly? You didn't remember it right away.

You would have to suppress the slight burgeoning joy in your eyes a little bit.

Blonde, slightly longer hair framed large blue-green eyes, which then looked at you attentively after the doctor had pulled out a stool and was now sitting in front of you.

Dr. Chase, he had said.

Well, you were glad to have been assigned the younger Dr. Chase, who looked at you sensitively with his blue eyes, instead of a doctor who had been unnerved over the years and for whom your presence was an inconvenience.

But there were a few younger doctors walking around here, as you had seen at the entrance. Was it because it was a teaching hospital? Did you have that right in your head?

"The most significant symptoms are unusual muscle pain and insomnia?"

"Yes," you confirm with a nod.

"Do you also feel dizzy?"

You shrugged, "A little, maybe. But I think it's normal to feel hazy and weak when you don't sleep properly, isn't it?"

The young doctor moved closer to you again and his eyes of turquoise water now looked directly into yours. He looked into your pupils scrutinizingly, you, on the other hand, were briefly captivated by the color of his eyes, which were now so close to you.

"I'm going to briefly test your pupil reaction with light," he informed you, warning you about the bright light of the ophthalmoscope.

The light was unpleasant, but strangely his hands that were gently resting against your head were not. A tangible touch. Gentle guidance. A gentle breath of a touch on your temple.

All of this caught your attention more than the light or the examination room around you.

Was he just a good doctor, an empathetic person or was it unfair of you just because he was young and handsome not to find the examination unpleasant at all?

Your lips pressed together briefly to avoid getting stupid ideas.

Was it perhaps already too late for that?

If you didn't have any pain, then you would have said by now at the latest that you only imagine your deterioration if you had such thoughts in the hospital during the examination.

"Describe the insomnia to me exactly," he said calmly, after checking the isocoria of your eyes and leaning back again and looking at you attentively.

"Well... I do fall asleep, but strangely enough, I always wake up at the same time in the middle of the night. And very abruptly, so that I have strong palpitations and then can't fall asleep anymore."

"Do you have a kind of oppressive feeling in your chest then?"

"Exactly, yes!"

After this statement from you, he reached for a stethoscope and instructed you to check your heart and breathing. The metal headpiece of the stethoscope was cold. But to be honest, you didn't know if it was this that sent a short shiver down your body or the proximity of Dr. Chase's hand. Hopefully, the instrument's membrane didn't transmit the frequency ranges for young blonde doctors of your beating heart. And if it did, then hopefully he didn't listen to it. What you couldn't imagine during his careful examination.

Instead of being happy to no longer feel the cold headpiece of the stethoscope on your chest and back, something like disappointment crept into your gut feeling when Chase moved away from you. Good thing he didn't examine your stomach and the weird feelings in it.

Instead, he checked your blood pressure afterwards and the tight cuff let you concentrate again.

"The breath and heart rate are normal, but the blood pressure is a bit elevated," he told you and you could tell from his voice that he was already starting to think while he reached for his clipboard.

"And do you take this medication regularly for your chronic disease?" he asked, pointing to the patient form you had filled out when you were admitted.

"Yes."

"How many?"

"As needed. If the pain is too severe. In the last few weeks it has been more frequent because I was in pain almost every day."

"Did the doctor tell you how many you can take a week?"

You frowned, "Um... a week? Hm, no. Not really. Except that it can't be more than one a day."

"And the new medication for daily use, since when have you had it?"

"Hmmm... for 2 weeks now."

Silence.

It made you a little nervous.

His eyes glided over the documents.

Inevitably, you wondered how that felt for the paper...

"So...", he suddenly raised his gaze and looked at you calmly again... As if there were only the two of you. As if there was no hustle and bustle out there. As if you and your problems, your body, were important. Your thoughts are important, your worries and your words. As if you were not a burden.

It was a feeling that you needed without knowing it.

„… it is a habituation of your body to the pills," he began to explain, "because it is a very strong phase at the moment, you had to take it unusually often. This was too often, so it resulted in a certain kind of dependence for the body with side effects. You couldn't notice that, because you were already worse off anyway. That's why it didn't stand out. Until the side effects became atypical."

Frowning showed your concern.

"But that can be fixed," he smiled briefly as if he had recognized the black cloud in your thoughts.

"You will stop taking the pills for the next 10 days. You don't have to worry that the phase will now deteriorate further. Because now the tablets have not brought any improvement anyway, but have only added further side effects to the condition. In the meantime, I will prescribe you a prostaglandin synthesis inhibitor, which you take daily to stabilize all again. After that, you can take your medication again in case of worse phases, but be careful not to use it more than 10 times a month. Otherwise, this is not the right medication for you. I will also prescribe calcium channel blockers for the evening."

Dr. Chase calmly explained the connections to you and asked if the procedure was okay for your, before he entered his test results in the data sheet.

Again afterwards this silence.

His voice with this special sound was missing in the room.

"The staff is already spreading a little Halloween spirit," your voice broke the silence.

"Yes, if you are often more at work than at home, then you have to bring the holiday spirit here."

"As long as no one dresses up as a horror nurse," you joked, a crooked smile masking your discomfort.

The doctor looked up at you briefly and returned your skew smile: "Why? Does something like that scare you?"

"A little," you admitted, "at least as long as I'm a patient. I prefer the sister in the honeybee costume."

"Don't worry. Zombie and horror apocalypses only happen in our hospital when someone messes up the nurses' shift."

There it was again, that voice with that accent. Both somehow warm. But... Why a little sad even though he was so polite? Maybe he had a long night behind him.

"And you're dressed as...", you eyed up him up and down again, from the beige cargo shirt with matching pocketed cargo pants, "... Scout? Archaeologist?"

"Um... no... I...", embarrassment came to his fine face and voice.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stuffed animal crocodile.

You weren't mistaken.

Dr. Chase tucked the crocodile under his arm as if he had it in a headlock.

"Actually, I wanted to be Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin."

A gentle smile came to your lips as you looked at the young doctor, “I should have noticed,” you said to him.

"I just always liked his enthusiasm and how he treated the animals well with so much joy and knowledge."

His eyes sparkled a little as he told this. Now less of a deep sad ocean and more of the blue sky. You could tell that he spoke from the heart and that it meant something to him. Somehow you could imagine that he was certainly also affectionate with animals. Why did you think about if Dr. Chase was kind to animals?

"And you rehearsed the Australian accent so well especially for the costume?"

He smiled at you a little crookedly: "God, no. I'm from Australia. But sometimes I have the feeling that this is less audible from year to year."

Almost with a hint of red cheeks, he put the stuffed crocodile aside and reached for his clipboard again. "Maybe it's a stupid costume, huh?" he asked, smiling sheepishly at you.

It seemed to him somehow important what others thought of him.

"Not at all," you answered immediately and with full conviction. "I even think it's the best costume in view."

One of your broad honest smiles met the australian Dr. Chase with the blond hair, who had really chosen the perfect costume and whose eyes could certainly shine as bright and friendly as Steve Irwin's, if only he had the right occasion.

"Besides, I've always liked this accent very much."

After you said that, you bit your tongue. Why did you say something like that? Why did you say it like that?

You tried to look everywhere, but not at the blond doctor in front of you.

The door was suddenly torn open, but only a crack wide, so that a short-haired gray mottled man with a wild stubble beard forced his way through. He peeked back through the crack for a moment and closed the door behind him.

He ignored your confused look and with a twitch of his eyebrows he registered you and Dr. Robert Chase, who... who didn't seem surprised at all, rather annoyed.

With his right arm extremely strongly supported on a cane, he came straight to you with a stiff leg.

Jeans, a large black baggy blazer, a wild linen shirt with a wild T-shirt underneath. Just as wild as his beard and hair.

Sneakers.

Automatically you started to wonder how you should know this costume composition. Was he a character from a TV series? A celebrity? Did it just not occur to you or did you not know it at all?

"And what do we have here?", the older of the two men grabbed the folder with the patient data and his eyes scanned it while he leaned casually there. His voice as bored as his attitude.

"House, I've already made the diagnosis. It is a consequential symptom of the chronic disease and the previous medication."

Robert Chase's tone began to change, as did his whole attitude since the other man had entered.

"Oh, are you sure about that, Dr. Chase?" The piercing eyes of the apparent colleague flashed provocatively to Chase and then to you. That left you... irritated. He somehow seemed like a teacher... a teacher who retrieves knowledge in a very bizarre way.

"Wouldn't it be more appropriate to leave this patchwork quilt behind and rather find a more permanent solution?" The tone of the titled Dr. House, to his conspicuous voice, began to take on a theatrical distress. And swinging the cane, he walked around you. It was truly an instructive lecture; his tone made that clear. But somehow there was too much ridicule for didactic.

"Instead of spending any longer in the shallow waters of medication, we could also haul in the anchor of cowardice and start a much faster trip with a low dose of narcotics."

"No. This may take a little longer, but it's safer. Such active ingredients are not so well tolerated by the patient group. And before we completely throw the previous treatment overboard, it is first necessary to consult and communicate with the current doctor when he is back from vacation," Chase stated strictly.

The head with the short-tangled hair turned in your direction and skillfully ignored Robert "Maybe you better change the doctor, I have today...", he glanced at the door and listened briefly, "... a few more minutes here.”

"No. I trust Dr. Chase's diagnosis and treatment," your answer was firm.

It did not escape you that both looked at you briefly. Probably for various reasons, except that the older doctor was difficult to interpret.

"Sure?", his tilted head bent more in your direction and his gaze became more and more opaque "You don't have to fall for the first diagnosis and treatment, the choice is yours. What are you saying? Do you believe me, the more experienced colleague or the brand-new Dr. Chase?"

"House...", Robert sighed and almost sounded a little... pissed.

"I trust what Dr. Chase said," you reply to the staring gaze of the older of the two doctors.

"Trust... hmmm", the addressed House grimaced as if a wasp had stung him, "... trust should generally be banished in life, as a little tip. But there is no trust in medicine. There are only diagnostic tests and scientific results in black and white. So: you can either have a faster treatment with faster results, or..."

"House!" the younger doctor admonished his colleague.

"I'm going to try Dr. Chase's medication," your voice sounded calm between the two men.

Again, the bearded doctor stared first at you, then at the blonde doctor, who looked at him a little venomously and somehow…done.

Silence.

House clicked his tongue "Okay," he shrugged his shoulders as if he suddenly didn't care.

The guy was... strange.

"It is always important to stand by your decisions. After all, you have made them yourself. And you should only make them, if you're sure," said Dr. House very seriously and it didn't escape you that although his face didn't change, his eyes looked at the young colleague differently than before for a fraction of a second. Almost... appreciative.

He limped to the door, opened it a crack, peeked out as if he were on the run and slipped through.

Maybe he was.

The only question was whether from a woman or the law.

"And what kind of costume was he wearing? I really didn't realize that. Grumpy asshole, perhaps?" you joked, smiling in Robert's direction after House disappeared.

"Believe it or not, no, that wasn't a costume. Neither one nor the other. So... he's always like that," Chase replied and you noticed that your joke lit up his face again.

"Is he the head of department?" you wanted to know.

"No. The head of the hospital is Dr. Cuddy. The black-haired lady in blazer and skirt, you saw her in the hallway."

"Oh," slipped out of your mouth in amazement. So the black-haired beauty from earlier was the head of the entire hospital. That impressed you a little. So she was the full package.

The raven-black curls, the filigree nose and the long legs in stilettos in a tight pencil skirt – that gave her a beguiling appearance. A magical look as if she could be a powerful, mysterious sorceress in another universe.

But in this universe, she was apparently no less – no, but the boss of the fanciest hospital you've ever been to.

A hospital with young blond doctors who also spoke like australian wildlife conservationists.

"But he is the head of diagnostics. So he's my supervisor and therefore my boss."

"Diagnostics?" you asked, your head tilted. "I've never heard of a department like this."

"It's a special department. We come to the cases in which previous treatments by other doctors have not worked and no medically flawless diagnosis could be made. Or the cases of our hospital, which are very serious and could not be clarified immediately," he explained to you and somehow there was a certain hidden passion in his words. He liked what he was doing very much. Even if something seemed to make him sad because he kept looking so tense. But that was probably what eternally long shifts made of one.

A soft, sincere smile from your lips fell brightly on Dr. Chase.

"Then I trusted the right person."

Robert looked at you for a moment, again so serious and matter-of-fact, but still there was an expression in his eyes as if he was somehow taken by surprise by this statement on your part. Was the word trust the problem? Did he miss it? Or were you a little frank?

"Actually, I think his way is quite ok. Direct. Brutally honest. Nevertheless, someone should tell him that you should approach patients differently. And I didn't like how he treated you. What was that supposed to do?"

Frowning, you looked at him expectantly. You had never come across anything like this before.

Robert Chase shook his head briefly with a hiss through his teeth and continued to write on his prescription pad.

"You shouldn't rack your brains about that. House is just like that. If he can't provoke, then he's missing something. So grummpy asshole is the standard."

"I kind of think he wanted to challenge you. He wanted to test how much you stand behind your approach. Whether you can be influenced or defend yourself. Even in front of your boss."

Blonde strands fell from his fine face as he raised his head at your statement and stared towards the door where House had just disappeared. Aquatic eyes removed in thought. Distant like deep blue seas. He was really thinking about your words.

"No," he interrupted his brooding with a shake of his head. "I think asshole is true," he grinned in your direction.

Your hand reached for the stuffed animal crocodile that Chase had put aside earlier and stroked its head while the young australian doctor silently finished writing the prescriptions.

The crocodile was nice and fluffy. Soft.

"But what do I know, it's hard for me to assess and let alone judge someone I don't even know. But hey, as the saying goes: I could be a psychiatrist and that's enough for me."

You smiled at the blonde doctor before it slipped into an embarrassed smile: "A stupid joke in front of a doctor, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Robert Chase replied, quoting you from earlier, and looked up at you from his documents with a knowing smile. His blue eyes gave you that look... Somehow there was something calm and gentle about him. Even though his features, when they hung on the files and diagnosed, were rock-hard, serious and concentrated, and remained so when he looked at you with a doctor's eye, there was still something gentle and familiar about his presence.

And it was nicer when his so concentrated, professional, serious expression was loosened up with a slight smile as he is now.

Maybe the sleep deprivation was already driving you crazy. After all, you shouldn't think about such things at the doctor's office.

"So...", Chase held out the medication prescription to you, "... proceed as discussed and see your doctor immediately after his vacation. I am giving you the documents of the examination. And if your condition deteriorates in any way, then come back here immediately."

"Alright," you nodded to him as you stood up and watched him get the duplicates from the clipboard.

You look at his costume under the lab coat again.

Robert "Irwin" Chase, Doctor and Crocodile Hunter.

"Do you still go out to celebrate Halloween with your colleagues after work?"

"Hmm... maybe a few of the colleagues will go out together later. But you never know if that will work.

"Why?"

"Hospitals. But also you don't know if you still feel like going out afterwards... or feel like to be with your colleagues," he grinned briefly.

"Besides, you can also celebrate just with two people," he said and his tone suddenly went in a completely different direction.

You blinked at Chase, whereupon he grimaced and apologetically avoided your gaze.

"That was stupid and not funny, I..."

With one step you were with him and he raised his head in surprise when he felt you press the stuffed crocodile into his hand. Aquamarines of the seas stared into your eyes and at your smiling lips in surprise.

"For a Crocodile Hunter you give up very quickly," your voice complains surprisingly coquettishly.

"Me and my friends wanted to go to the roadhouse. A Halloween evening takes place there every year. Costumes, great decorations, nice music, dance floor, yet quiet sitting niches and a bar. And no, I didn't intend to drink anything!"

Appeasing and solemnly swearing, you held your hands in the air, a happy smile on your lips.

"Why don't you come with your colleagues. But only if they have such great costumes as you.”

Hesitate.

In his eyes and on his lips.

Dr. Chase opened his mouth a little without saying anything, before he smirked and his oceanic eyes sparkled mischievously. “Well, then it's hard for me to say no. After all, someone has to make sure that you really don't overdo it and take it easy. Medical caution."

A grin stole onto your lips and you hoped that your ears didn't turn red with joy. "Of course. Medical caution, very important," you nodded in a feigned serious tone and a still feigned serious expression.

Before your luck ran out, you went to the door with your medical paperwork and grinned back at Chase once more:

"You are also welcome to bring your grumpy grouch boss. But only if he likes good music."

"That shouldn't be a problem. Then... see you there, mate," Dr. Chase said goodbye to you with a wink and especially for you in his strongest Australian accent.

It looked like he had caught himself more than just a crocodile...

➹a/n: How do we like to name the crocodile of Chase? 🐊 Steve? Or something less obvious?

What costume does the reader/you wear for Chase at the Halloween party? Sexy nun? 😉🤭 Just make sure there are no strawberries at the party 😉

written for @alpydk and your funny prompt

Treat yourself with a fluffy comfy fluff! Always remember: You are bold, brave and beautiful! Get yourself the sexy doctor and you can travel wherever you want! 💪

A Chase for a Chase 😁 I think that is a good deal, yes a very good bargain, indeed! Maybe one day I will write the sequel to your Chase fanfic for me, with all the headcanons it brought to my mind 😄

And I even have to include medical details in a character x reader story 😆🙈 I tried to make it as unspecific as possible. But you know me and what I usually write, I can't help it 😆

Let's make the Chase Tuesday to Chase Thursday 😉😁

[alpydk]

I had another one of the worst visits to the doctor today 😑

For one second I really had in my head "Where is Chase?" 😭

I was on the verge of making a House like fuss 😆😣

To my ask:

Do you have fluffy Chase headcanons in mind, where he is treating a patient good and comforting?

(Yeah I know who am I asking 😆🤣😋 But with Dr. Puppy eyes there has to be some comfort about him😁Just imagine I am a penitent nun, than he is extra nice 🤭😉 Sorry Daddy, punish me for I have sinned 😏 Wrong topic! Wrong topic! 😆🙈

But I am also always up for some angst...like having things in my head of Wilson seeing Amber in his final moments, greeting him, waiting for him...yeah...)

I'm sorry you had a rough appointment. I hope this brings you the smiles it brought me. I'm not the best at a headcanon, but I can do a short comfort fic 🫂 - My one thing is, Chase totally gets his hair back post divorce/s8. He still however pines from time to time.

Chase x You - Pure Fluff (like fucking candyfloss)

You’ve sat for some time in that small clinic room, your eyes strained from the florescent lighting, your head pounding from the many complaints outside the door. You knew the place would be busy, but you didn’t know to what extent when you sat down to see someone.

Now you waited for the doctor to come, the paper on the bed riding up under your jeans, your legs hanging off the edge as if you were some child. Doctors were never who you wanted to see, especially when they were like the last few. In their fifties, men whose education came from other men in their fifties. No understanding of what it was like to actually have struggles in either life or health. You sigh, expectantly.

The door is pushed open; you sit up straight ready to have your concerns ignored when he enters. Nowhere near the age you figured. Early thirties, you suspect, blonde, very good looking. Now your tension has become a furious blush in your cheeks as you explain your symptoms.

Robert Chase pulls up a chair and nestles himself in between your legs, placing warm hands under your chin and lifting your head slightly. He’s gentle, his hands soft. You notice he has no aftershave on, but the subtle aroma of saltwater drifts from his hair. His shampoo, or maybe a long-forgotten hobby, soaked into his pores? You don’t dare to ask, but the question doesn’t linger for long as you catch his gaze and realise the answer. The deep blue of his eyes glance into yours, endless seas you would happily swim out into. He gives the faintest smile, his hands brushing the skin of your neck as he pulls away. You suddenly feel cold.

He writes you a prescription, tells you to take it easy for a few days and call if you have any problems. His accent reminds of the old Steve Irwin videos you used to watch with your friends. It’s soothing in a way you don’t understand. You struggle to find your words to reply to him, but manage a whispered thank you.

Outside, the rain is coming down. You wait for your taxi, slowly becoming more and more drenched as the heavens open. You would stand under the portico, but it’s left clear for the emergency services. A gurney is rushed past, a young woman. You wonder what is wrong with her as the paramedics shield her from the rain.

“So, you come here often?”

The Australian accent draws you to your senses, a worthless pickup line that you’ve joked about but never had used on you before. You smirk. “Does that ever work?”

“First time for everything.”

He’s wrapped in a thin coat, his blonde hair becoming darker and sticking to his forehead with each raindrop that hits. You’re not sure when you agree to go to his apartment. It seems to happen so naturally as you find yourself walking to his car with him. He asks about you, what you do for a living, how long you’ve lived in New Jersey. Do you have any friends, family, a partner?

His apartment is what you expected of a young single doctor, more time spent at work than at home. There’s the odd creature comfort: a violin case stood against the wall, some aged video games in a stack by the TV. It’s not until you look closely that you see the hidden details: the photo frame face down on the cabinet, the medical journal under the leg of the coffee table keeping it stable. Rowan Chase? Any relation? You wonder.

“Got you a towel.” Robert brings it around your shoulders. Gone is his coat, leaving nothing but the wet shirt underneath. You know this is no longer professional care, but you don’t mind, swept up in whatever God’s plan is for the two of you.

“You have a nice apartment.”

“You should see the bedroom.”

He’s so quick to lure. How many of these lines have been used on others before you? How many others have there been? You’re drowning in those seas, but you don’t seem to care. Let the tide pull you away. Let him drag you down.

Suddenly he apologises, and you’re not sure why. Was it your silence at his remark? He offers you a drink, but you decline. The medication, you remind him. He nods, understanding, and places himself on the sofa, leaning his head back over the cushion. You sit next to him, seeing the façade of the strong doctor fade momentarily. You hesitate a moment, but place your hand on his knee, a warmth and comfort that you’ve both been seeking for so long.

He glances up, confused, a brief flash over his face where he considers rejecting the sensation, but then his arm comes around your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his body, taking in the seawater, letting it fill your lungs. You feel the warmth of his breath in your damp hair, the press of his lips on your forehead, on your nose, on your mouth, each softer and more meaningful than the last.

He doesn’t take it further. There is all the time in the world for that. Instead, he switches on a movie, holds you close in a way you’ve only ever dreamt of. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the next morning when you wake up, a cushion under your head, a blanket covering your shoulders. The scent of coffee fills the air, and you glance around, trying to catch your bearings.

Chase emerges from the kitchen, sweatpants shielding toned legs from your view, but a firm chest on display, skin you’ll run your fingers up, a scar you’ll learn about during lazy days in bed.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

He glows under the curious dawn that lazily comes through the window, his hair as golden as the coast you’ll surf with him one day, his eyes brighter than they ever were under chemical lighting. “Made you coffee.”

---

“These trials only test your faith to see whether or not it is strong and pure. Your faith is being tested, as fire tests gold and purifies it. ... And your faith is far more precious to the Lord than mere gold. So if your faith remains strong after being tested, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day of his return.” – Chase S1 E5

[softieekayy]

Would any of yall be interested in a James Wilson x reader? I recently started binging house MD and fell in love with James Wilson. (Don’t worry, I still love Hannibal Lecter)

[mariocki]

Mansion of the Doomed (Massacre Mansion, 1976)

"You must trust me. I'm going to give you back your eyes, all of you. Soon. As soon as I've succeeded with Nancy, as soon as I... I discover the truth. I will share that truth with you. For the whole world! I believe in humanity, that's - that's what it's all about."

[favseraphim]

whilst i set up the rest of my account, send me some requests! 🎀 with the exceptions of smut and incest and such.

[daisywrites101]

hi!! hope you’re doing well :) i saw you were taking imagines for house requests… was wondering if you could do something with a gn!reader and chase. something fluffy and cute if possible, like chase realizing his feelings for his best friend (being reader) and him trying to figure out how to confess ^^ thank you! have a great day

I absolutely love this idea! I will be sure to get this done as soon as I can!

[housemdfever]

Cherry Chapstick Part 1

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Robert Chase x Fem! Reader

Part 2

Part 3

TW: Enemies to lovers, Fluff, Creepy guy hitting on you

Context: You're Dr. Chase's assistant at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

Author's Note: Shout-out to my amazing editor, she corrected my awful spelling.

I slam my pile of papers on Chase's desk, not daring to look the cocky bastard in the eyes. I can feel his eyes piercing me, "Is this finally all the paperwork I requested?" he sneers. Still without turning to him I reply with a simple yes; this was the third time I've delivered papers to him and I missed something every time. "Hey you! You forgot the purchase history records from 2000," he calls out to me. He didn't ask for that, I know he didn't. I turn around to him visibly upset; he has already done this three times today! "You didn't ask for those!" He pounds his hand on the table and stands up, "You calling me a liar?" he snaps. I take a step back upon seeing his looming frame getting closer to mine. "Get me those records!" Dealing with him just isn't something I want to do right now, I'll just go find this stupid file.

Thousands of files line the shelves, I almost think I'd feel intimidated if I didn't know this room like the back of my hand. The sound of unfamiliar footsteps echoes through the hall. Whatever, I just need to find this file so Dr. Chase stops complaining. While looking for the file, I feel something warm against my back. "It's up here. Were you even looking?" I hear a voice retort. I turn around, slamming my back into the shelf in the process. "You're a damn klutz too," a voice whispers; looking up at him, it finally clicks. "Dr. Chase? What are you doing?" I respond a little flustered. "You took too long trying to find the file so I came to get it myself." He doesn't back up from the shelf yet, leaving me trapped between the shelf and him. After a bit of staring, he backs away from the shelf. "Hurry up and get back to doing paperwork." he commands. I roll my eyes. 

After what felt like hours, the pile of paperwork I needed to fill out was done. Dr. House and his merry band of idiots gets themselves into so much trouble; I'm always stuck cleaning up their damn messes. Standing up and grabbing the paperwork, I head towards Dr. Chase's office to deliver the finished product before heading home for the day. Looking up at the clock, I notice it's already 7 pm. "It's so late," I grumble as I walk into the office. "If that's a problem for you then quit," Dr. Chase remarked. "It's not," I respond coldly walking towards his desk. "Then why are you complaining?" I don't respond, I won't play his game. "Come behind my desk and come take a look at this for me," Dr. Chase demands while pointing at his computer screen. Following his orders, I look at him confused. "It's just a poster for a charity gala opening up?" He nods; I look at him with confusion. "You're coming with me, this Friday," he commands without looking at me. Shocked by his request I ask him, "Me? Why? Can't you go with someone else?" "Everyone else said no and I'm not going alone," he responds; it was a lie, he hadn't asked anyone else and didn't intend to. I look at my calendar on my phone. "I'm free so I'll go I guess, but you're covering the bill." "That's fine. You're free to clock out today as well." I don't respond, already walking out the door. 

[kining-the-evil]

I’m now taking requests for the following House MD characters(I’m only on season one so things may change later one)

Gregory house

James Wilson

Alison Cameron

Robert Chase

Eric Forman

I Do smut, Angst, fluff, and Yandere. You can also request any gender reader.

[eliotquillon]

Drabble req: the first time chameron say "I love you" to each other. Cause you know it was messy and you know they didn't say it at the same time.

obligatory @all-pacas already has a fic about this that is VERY GOOD and you should read (https://archiveofourown.org/works/57257620) but:

“I love you,” Chase blurts out while they’re doing the dishes; he washes, she dries, because when she first started staying at his apartment she was aghast to see water spots on all his dishes and broke her self-imposed rule to never clean up after a man just for her own peace of mind. Cameron freezes, hand gripping a pasta bowl with the edge of a dishtowel, and Chase adds, “You don’t have to say it back.”

It’s early to say it. Too early to say it, Cameron thinks; ever since her husband died, she’s been a big believer in the six month rule, unwilling to allow herself to be caught off-guard again. Words mean things. She knows it’s different, for men, read a psychology case study about how they almost always say it first in heterosexual relationships, but it doesn't change the fact that this is still too early. They've barely been together for two months, if you don't count their bout of casual sex beforehand. Cameron has a sinking feeling that Chase probably does count it. Which would make it closer to three months, but that's still—

"It was just dinner,” she jokes, trying to deflect. She’s been trying to ease herself into letting him into her life; he doesn’t have a drawer at her apartment yet, but they go to her favourite Chinese place often enough that the staff have started to recognise him, ask how that nice British boy is doing on the rare occasion that she still goes there by herself. She never corrects them. It feels more intimate than just sharing space; if they break up, she’ll probably never be able to go back to that Chinese place again. Or she will, out of spite, but it won’t be the same. “Though their egg rolls are pretty good.”

“You don’t have to say it back,” Chase repeats, flushing pink—she tells herself it’s just steam rising up from the sink full of dirty dishes and hot water—“but don’t make a joke of it, Allison.”

Cameron swallows. “I don’t know what to say,” she admits, which feels worse than the joke. Admitting she doesn’t know what to say is tantamount to admitting that she hasn’t considered loving him yet, that she’s nowhere near ready to say it back; if she’d seen it coming, she would’ve had an answer prepared. Something nice, confident but not glib—thank you, maybe, or I really like you, too. She doesn’t like this off-kilter, unmoored feeling. Maybe it would be easier, if they were at her apartment and if she could stare at the kitchen wall to collect her thoughts without seeing Chase everywhere, but they aren’t. It isn’t.

“That’s alright,” Chase says kindly. She forgets, occasionally, that he is capable of graciousness. It’s still strange, sometimes, interacting with him outside of the gilded cage of the conference room. They drive to work together, and a part of her is always a little bit surprised that they go their own separate ways; that this isn’t some elaborate charade, and that one day they’re not both going to walk up to House and go we really had you going, huh? Not because things are going badly. If anything, it’s because they’re going well. If she pretends that she’s pretending, then maybe things won’t hurt so much if they end. “I can take over, if you want.”

He means the dishes. Cameron smiles, relieved. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?” she says. “I’ll have a better answer next time.”

It doesn’t mean she’ll be ready to say it back then. But it’s a promise, sort of. Eventually. Eventually, Cameron thinks, and she sets the pasta bowl out on the rack to dry.

[alpydk]

Toffee Apples and Coffee

Chase / Reader (F) - 1316 words - Fluff

The pic of Chase and House in the dodgems gave this little comfort fic a spark of life and I wanted to write more Chase. May have also have been enabled by @judasiskariot

Can't explain why Gale is nothing but angst but Chase gets this stuff...

You sat by the side of the waltzers, watching your friends spin. The dizzying rotations resulting in the manic cackling and joyous screams. You’d wanted to join them but three’s a crowd you’d mumbled as you’d watched the loved-up pair climb into the carriage. They’d invited you along, knowing how bored you’d been locked up in your apartment and figured the air and bright lights would do you some good. Have too much candy floss, win a cuddly toy, throw up on the Ferris wheel. It’ll be fun! Well, they were certainly having fun as the attendant spun them roughly, their hands white knuckled on the cool steel of the bar keeping them safe.

A brief glimmer of blonde sped past you, the wind and surprise of the proximity knocking you back a little. You caught the laughter, a young man and a dark-haired woman. Another happy couple, you figured, sighing to yourself. It was nice to be out of the apartment, at least. The ride came to a stop, your friends wobbling their way towards you, still laughing. You handed them their bags and followed behind slowly, kicking up the strands of dirty cut grass beneath your boots. They’d ask a question but not listen to the answer, the music of the attractions drowning out your voice. ‘Cause every time we touch! You’re pretty sure the song is being played from ride to ride. At least the song can’t possibly last the entire time you’ve been standing around.

Your friends drag you to the bumper cars. This one you can take part in. They’ll go in one car, and you get to be the designated driver of another. Fun, you try to tell yourself. You grab the nearest one, a sea blue one that reminds you of daytime soap operas. Was it Neighbours you watched or Home and Away? What was really the difference? They could have been the same show for all you knew. Focusing on your feet so you don’t fall in making an idiot out of yourself, you look down as your boot touches the base of the cab. It only takes a moment of distraction for your head to collide suddenly with an equally hard object. Stumbling backwards, you hold your forehead in confusion. You’ve seen the blonde before that greets you only before moving more quickly and not nearly as close as it is now. He runs a hand through it and your attention is caught by eyes as blue as the cab looking up at you in a combination of confusion, apology, and humour.

“Sorry… Are you…?” You mumble, trying to hide your blush, being polite and gesturing vaguely at the car.

He nods and climbs in before you can say that you had bagged it first. You look around and see no others are vacant.

“Want to double up?” He shifts over a little with a smile, patting the free space next to him. 

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you want to climb in with the guy who just head-butted you and stole your dodgem but there’s something about the way he smiles, the fun he seems to be having that causes you to relax and join him. While you squeeze in next to him, your thighs press too closely for comfort. You try to pull your legs together further only for him to lean over and grab the wheel in the centre with little regard for how much you're touching. Without hesitation, he spins it, and you’re dragged along for the ride. Thank God you like thrill rides. 

You find your shoulders pressed to his, the smell of seawater merging with candy floss and sickly sweet foods. You spot the brunette he was with in another car with a much older man. Her father? You wonder and before you know it, you’re both heading straight towards them.

“House! Let me drive!” she snaps, grabbing the wheel as they bend into the right side of your cab.

The guy next to you laughs with the smash, but you’re more distracted by the way his hand has fallen on your knee, holding you safely and closely. Can’t you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last…

“Would never let a woman drive thirteen,” her passenger remarks as they drive off, squabbling over the steering.

“Robert. And you are?” the guy next to you questions, the cab turning slowly as you drift in search of your own friends, his hand now removed from your leg.

You’re not sure he even hears your reply as the music and screams drown out your voice, but you decide it’s not important. It’s not like you’ll be spending more time together once the ride ends. Your cab bumps into your friends with a satisfying thud and you notice the smirk one of them gives you. You hope again Robert doesn’t notice your blush as he glances over at you seeking approval for a crash well done.

I get this feeling. The ride comes to an end; the music becoming louder as the laughs and screams die down a little. You thank him for his expert driving before you look for your friends, only to find you’re being pulled away by the hand.

“Come on. Being a third wheel sucks,” he calls out loudly, leaning over towards you closely so you can hear him better. His hot breath hits your cheek, and you swear you can smell the scent of toffee apples mixed with coffee. Someone who works and never sleeps, it seems, but is here for a good time.

You spend the evening with him, indulging in too much candy floss, hearing an accent you remember from daytime soap operas. Those days of lying sick on the sofa being soothed by upbeat Australians talking about surfing and story lines involving kids having condoms without their parent’s consent. You watch him try multiple times to win an oversized koala, wondering if he knows the games are rigged and just wants to win for the sake of proving everyone wrong. A ridiculous amount of money later, he is walking away with the four-foot bear, clutching it proudly.

“For a girlfriend?” you ask, hoping to pry a little personal information out of him.

He replies with a proud grin. “Nah. For me. I earnt it.”

You can’t help but laugh at the sight, but you accept it. Maybe he was like you and never got a chance for these things as a kid. Maybe he’s making up for lost time. I reach for the sky.

The evening ends with the Ferris wheel and you worry if your friend’s premonition is going to end up correct. Heaven forbid you throw up on this guy’s shoes. You climb in with him, the carriage giving a gentle sway as it begins its slow ascent into the stars. The plush koala watches you both lifelessly from the centre as you try to avoid eye contact, pointing out the various things you can see as the height increases. You point out what looks to be your friends trying their luck at the games. He points out a bright light in the distance, his workplace, he explains. A doctor? That explains the coffee. Want you in my life.

Reaching the top, the cold nighttime breeze rocks the carriage gently. You feel yourself gripping the bar next to you that little tighter for support, trying not to show you’re a little nervous of the height. He looks over at you, sea-blue eyes glittering in the moonlight, and you forget all fears. The heights don’t exist, his shoes will remain thankfully clean. There are only his soft lips upon yours under glistening stars and flickering fairground lights, the taste of toffee apple and coffee mixing with candy floss.

Cause every time we touch I get this feeling And every time we kiss, I swear I can fly Can’t you feel my heart beat fast I want this to last Need you by my side

[erimeows]

The Blind Date (Valentine’s Day Special)

10AM, Saturday February 11th

Allison Cameron is on a mission as she sits across from Robert Chase and Eric Foreman in the middle of a crowded, busy cafe. It’s a beautiful winter day- the sun is shining bright to melt the remnants of a dying snow outside, the breeze is crisp and cool, and the trees in New Jersey are dark with bare branches. She knows that Chase would rather be out bowling or sleeping in, while Foreman would rather be taking his dog on a morning walk or sitting inside enjoying a book with a cup of tea, and she would rather be tending to her garden or going to her Saturday taekwondo class. But, with enough convincing, she got them to come here.

“Why did you have us come get coffee with you on a Saturday? It’s out of character for you to want to spend your personal time with both of us outside of work, and you said it was important,” Foreman mentions and leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other and both of his arms crossed over his chest. “Spill.”

“Okay, okay,” Cameron relents with a nervous smile. She wonders if either of them will actually agree to her plan, but she figures it’s better to try and fail than to not do anything and watch the miserable game that House and Wilson play every single day; shooting each other longing looks, offering fleeting touches and nothing more, flirting when they think people aren’t looking but never doing anything about it. It’s better than watching House antagonize Wilson when compared to how he usually antagonizes others, just looks like a little kid lashing out in an attempt to get attention from their crush. “I have a plan to set House up on a blind date.”

“Wait,” Chase stops and looks between Foreman and Cameron with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. “Why are you doing this? Weren’t you interested in House romantically? Why set him up with someone else?”

“Yes, I love House- I mean, I like him romantically, but I love him as a friend-”

“He’s not our friend, he’s our boss, and he’s a prick,” Chase argues. “Why should we take time out of our weekend to help him? And why do you need us for this?”

“Look, I’m doing this because of Wilson, okay?”

And it’s true. While she’s partially doing it for House, she’s mostly doing it for Wilson. She sees how the oncologist looks at House with lovestruck big brown eyes, and more than it is pathetic, it’s pitiable. Wilson, regardless of his tendency to cheat and regardless of the way he allows everyone to walk all over him, is a good person.

“Because of Wilson? What does Wilson have to do with this?” Foreman questions.

“He’s our friend, and he makes House happy… And House makes him happy, too,” Cameron explains, to which Foreman and Chase nod in understanding. She thinks about her date with House- how he told her that she was only interested because she wanted to fix him, and while she was definitely attracted to him for other reasons, he wasn’t necessarily wrong. But Wilson? Over the past few weeks, she’s noticed that Wilson is acting differently around House- that he’s head over heels, and House has always reciprocated that. It’s been obvious, and if she can’t be happy with House, she at least wants Wilson to be. “Don’t tell me you guys haven’t noticed.”

“What’s your point?” Foreman asks, then sips on his coffee- black, no sugar, the exact opposite of Chase’s, which is loaded with milk, sugar, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup. Cameron’s own drink is a caramel cold brew. “They’ve always been like that with each other. Maybe they’re just best friends and you’re overanalyzing like you always do.”

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Cameron says while trying to think of something that will pique Foreman’s interest. “And if House is happy and distracted with a new relationship, maybe he won’t be so hard on us.”

“Fair point,” Foreman adds while feigning a lack of interest like he always does. Cameron is intrigued by the childlike enthusiasm that he has for pranks and plots like this, even if he tries to hide it. Eric Foreman, much like Robert Chase, is intriguing. “Wilson has always been good at reining him in when he acts up.”

“I hate to ask this, but are they even gay? I’ve never seen either of them- you know , like that with a man,” Chase leans back, sips on his drink, and pushes back the long sandy locks of hair that frame his face.

Cameron pauses, looking between the two men. She isn’t sure if they like her very much, to be honest. She likes them- hell, they’re what makes working with House bearable when he’s at his worst… Maybe asking this of them is crossing the line? No, no, it needs to be done. The worst thing that could happen is them saying no and backing out. Pushing the trivial thoughts about her relationship with Foreman and Chase aside, the brunette quirks a brow and laughs.

“Are you really asking that? They’re clearly more than friends.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Chase laughs and throws his hands up in defeat before leaning in. Both his and Foreman’s interests are obviously piqued. “What’s the plan?”

~

5PM, Sunday February 12th

Robert Chase doesn’t know how he got dragged into this.

Or, he does, but he really would rather not be here with House of all people. Rather, he was hoping he would be the one stuck convincing the easy going, people pleasing James Wilson to go on a blind date. Foreman was given the much easier job instead, leaving the difficult and bitter Greg House to poor Chase.

The blond is in his boss’s apartment right now, sitting on his uncomfortable leather couch. There’s only a single cushion between them and Chase has to admit that it’s closer than he’s comfortable with. As amusing as Cameron’s scheme seemed in theory, he’s slowly coming to regret agreeing to the immunologist’s plan to set House and Wilson up on this blind date.

“Why all of a sudden are you so interested in setting me up on a date?” House asks.

The diagnostician is more focused on the soap opera on the television in front of him than he is on Chase. It’s a little insulting. Then again, he figures it’s a consequence for letting his crushes on Cameron and Foreman alter his decision making skills so much. He wouldn’t have said yes were it not in hopes to impress them and get on their good sides. It’s too late to back down now, so Chase knows what he has to do in order to make it happen; take drastic measures.

“Do it or I’ll quit,” Chase threatens.

“Are you really pulling a Cameron on me?” House says with a roll of his eyes. Chase’s threat seems to catch his attention more than anything else the intensivist has said through the duration of his visit, as House actually turns the television off and turns to look at him. Icy blue eyes burn into ocean and Chase is suddenly very, very nervous- so nervous that he pulls at the collar of his shirt and averts his gaze. “Because I don’t mind calling you on your bluff.”

“You wouldn’t,” Chase responds even if he isn’t entirely sure.

“I would,” House insists and starts to fidget with his cane. He picks the long object up with one hand and twirls it absentmindedly while he speaks with his eyes still trained on Chase’s face regardless of whether or not the younger man is actually looking back at him. “I don’t mind telling Cameron and Foreman about your little crushes either.”

Chase’s heart drops to his stomach. House knows? Well, of course House knows, House knows everything, but… God damn. Seriously? Chase mulls over his options, which are acknowledging the truth and begging House not to tell anyone (which will probably come at a price), or denying the truth and pretending it isn’t real (which House will most certainly not believe, so it’ll come at a price anyway).

“What,” Chase states plainly, going with his latter option.

All it earns him is a roll of House’s eyes and a dismissive wave of House’s right hand.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re all so obvious,” House laughs. Chase wants to ask about the ‘all’. He wonders if House knows something about Foreman and Cameron’s potential feelings towards him that he himself doesn’t. Right now, though, it’s about House and Wilson, not him, so he doesn’t say anything. He bites his tongue and crosses his arms over his chest. “At this point, it’s embarrassing to watch.”

Chase looks at the clock on the wall and sighs. May as well change the subject.

“You’re running late, this place is almost an hour from here and the date is in an hour. I know it’s my fault for waiting until tonight to spring this on you, but… Ugh,” Chase groans, runs a hand through his hair, and stands up. House’s eyes remain on him as he pulls out his wallet and counts out just shy of a hundred fifty dollars, which he holds out to House. “I still need to get a cab. Take this.”

“Is this a bribe to keep my mouth shut?” House smirks and takes the cash, standing up as well.

“No, it’s to pay for the date,” Chase answers. “With all the money you already steal-”

“Borrow-”

“Steal from Wilson, I’m not making him pay for this, too,” Chase realizes he’s slipped up. Part of the plan was to keep the identity of their date secret from both House and Wilson, but thankfully, House doesn’t seem to notice. Perhaps the diagnostician assumed that Chase meant he’d simply ‘borrow’ more money from Wilson later to make up for the date. “But… It would also be nice if you didn’t mention anything about this discussion to Cameron or Foreman.”

House shrugs, turns, and makes his way to the hallway that leads to his bedroom with a shout of-

“I’m not making any promises!”

Chase sighs for what must be the millionth time tonight, then leaves with nothing more than a shake of his head. It’ll be a miracle if this somehow works out…

~~

6PM, Sunday February 12th

Foreman is unsurprised when he finds himself at the home of James Wilson. When Cameron initially proposed her plan to get Wilson and House to go on a date yesterday, Foreman knew he was going to end up doing a lot of the work, including making the reservation at the restaurant Cameron recommended, purchasing fancy attire for both men to attend the date in, and now, this. Just like at work, Foreman manages to carry the weight of the load on his broad shoulders.

Wilson has moved into a nice new house recently. The place is full of unpacked cardboard boxes, freshly waxed floors, and newly painted walls. Foreman is overwhelmed by the scent of paint and lemon cleaner as he fastens and fixes Wilson’s tie to make sure it looks just as perfect as he’d want it to were it him going on an important date.

“I still don’t understand your motive here, Foreman,” Wilson laughs nervously, his cheeks dusted bright red. Foreman isn’t sure he’s ever been this close to Wilson before, and honestly, he also isn’t sure why he was sent here to convince Wilson to go on this last minute date instead of Chase or Foreman, who are considerably more friendly with the oncologist. He supposes it boils down to the fact that House would question him into a corner that he’d literally give up on the plan to get out of. Clearing his head of the many doubts he has about this scheme that Cameron has concocted for him and Chase to execute, Foreman notes that the tie he’s putting on Wilson is soft and a dark shade of green, just like House would prefer. Wilson continues speaking after Foreman doesn’t respond. “This is unlike you.”

“I heard you hadn’t been on a date since you got divorced from your second wife back in ‘99, and this friend of mine is in a similar situation,” Foreman explains and looks away with a shrug. Admittedly, it’s not a complete lie, and it’s believable enough for Wilson to not immediately reject the idea of going on a date so last minute. Briefly, the neurologist wonders what the idiot Chase could have possibly come up with to get House of all people to go. He wonders if Chase has even succeeded or if the plan is going to fall through. He hasn’t heard a text on his cheap little cellphone from Chase nor Cameron yet. “I thought you two would get along really well.”

“Sure, but isn’t this short notice? Why are you in such a hurry? If I didn’t know better, I’d think this were some sort of weird plot… Either that or a bet that you need to win. Or maybe an emergency? I have no idea, but this strikes me as odd, especially for you. I’d expect it from the others, but you? Come on. We all know you don’t want to be involved with any of us outside of work, and I don’t blame you for that.”

Foreman winces at that. It’s not necessarily true, even. Cameron and Chase, he’d love to be involved with after work. He adores them, adores watching over them and helping them at work, even if he insists that he doesn’t want a personal relationship with them and that they’re nothing more than coworkers. House and Wilson, however, he usually wants nothing to do with; they’re both dumpster fire humans with problems that are too big for Foreman’s already buckled shoulders to carry.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you,” Foreman tries to lay everything out as truthfully as he can without ruining it entirely. The one condition he was given to make this successful was to make sure that Wilson doesn’t find out that his date is going to be House until he gets there. He understands why, too. If Wilson were to know that the date is going to be with House, he’d surely cancel. “It was Cameron’s idea and she didn’t let me or Chase know about this until yesterday, so we weren’t given that much notice either. I tried to call you yesterday-”

“I was busy yesterday,” Wilson says the words a little too fast, almost like he’s hiding something. Foreman almost asks exactly what it was that had Wilson so preoccupied at one on a Saturday afternoon that he couldn’t be fucked to answer the phone or at least fucked to listen to the voicemail Foreman left and call him back, but he thinks better of it and keeps his curiosity to himself. “My bad.”

“Right, well, I’m just saying… I tried to call you yesterday and you didn’t answer. I tried to call you this morning, too.”

To show him proof, Foreman steps back, takes his phone out of his pocket, and pulls up the receipts of the calls and texts that Wilson didn’t bother to answer yesterday afternoon or this morning.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Foreman, it’s honestly been a bit since I’ve checked my phone,” Wilson rushes to explain himself as he scratches the back of his neck. “It’s just been a hectic few days, you know? With that patient and everything…”

“Uh huh,” Foreman replies in an unconvinced tone. The last patient they had wasn’t worth being stressed over; some guy whose wife was poisoning him with gold that they figured out pretty easily. Wilson was even making jokes about the case. Out of all of the things that the oncologist has dealt with, something tells Foreman that this wasn’t the one to stress him out to the point of not answering his phone. “Yeah, okay, well… The reservations we set up for your date are scheduled for a little less than an hour from now, so I’m going to excuse myself. You should probably head there in the next half hour if you don’t want to be late. I’ll send you the address, alright?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good, but before you go,” Wilson starts with a smile. “I really appreciate you guys doing this for me. I still don’t quite understand it when the three of you clearly have your own unresolved romance issues that need to be worked on, but it’s a nice gesture.”

“Right,” Foreman clears his throat and steps away while sending Wilson the address to the restaurant he’s supposed to meet House at through text. It’s embarrassing that Wilson so clearly knows about his crush on Chase and Cameron, but he’s thankful that the oncologist has the decency to keep it to himself for the most part. Foreman wonders if House knows, too. “Well, good luck… I’ll see you on Monday.”

~~~

7:30PM, Sunday February 12th

James Wilson is nervous.

After being coerced by no other than Eric Foreman himself to go on a blind date, the oncologist finds himself sitting in a fancy, romantic restaurant. The lighting is dim and there’s a vase with roses in the middle of the table along with a lit, rose-scented candle. The tablecloth is bright white and silky, and the chair he’s sitting on is surprisingly plush.

The chair across from him, however, is empty. His supposed date was supposed to be here half an hour ago. Of course, some haphazard scheme concocted in the span of a couple days by the ducklings was bound to work out this way. Wilson isn’t even disappointed by the lack of company as much as he is anxious about being seen sitting alone in a restaurant by the other couples and the one waiter who has come by to try to take his order four separate times. It looks like he’s being stood up.

Why did he go along with this in the first place, you might ask? It’s a little more complicated than one would think. Following his second divorce, he and House formed a friends with benefits agreement. Unfortunately, Wilson fell for House somewhere along the way and has ended up here, silent about his feelings and fearful of anyone figuring it out. Desperate to avoid rousing any suspicion from Chase, Foreman, and Cameron, Wilson agreed to go on the date to get everyone at the hospital off his back about being single. Now, he’s starting to regret it.

Right as he thinks to text Foreman to inform him that his date hasn’t shown up, Wilson hears the door open and looks up to see a familiar face walking in and heading his way.

“Oh, this is rich,” House laughs, his smile not quite reaching his icy blue eyes.

Wilson’s heart skips a beat.

“I should’ve known it was you,” Wilson sighs like he’s disappointed, but deep down, relief is flooding him. House truly is the only person he’d feel comfortable going on a date with- and of course, the ducklings figured it out, just like he and House have figured them out. A large smile takes over Wilson’s face as House casually sits down in the empty chair and puts his elbows on the table. “Fashionably late as always.”

“Hey, it isn’t my fault that my taxi driver drove the speed of an eighty year old with cataracts,” House huffs and fidgets with the vase on the table until it’s perfectly aligned with the adjacent candle. Wilson watches him fondly and thinks about his feelings. He wants to say something so badly, it’s just that in moments like this, he fears he’ll scare House away and lose the little things like waking up to him or watching him across the table when they eat together. “So, which one of the ducklings conned you into this?”

“Foreman,” Wilson answers, and before he can explain everything that Foreman told him about the plan, House figures it out and says it out loud.

“This must’ve been Cameron’s idea, then because Chase was the one who conned me, and this is the same restaurant she and I went to on our date.”

“Should we just leave?” Wilson asks while twiddling with his thumbs.

“Nah, might as well enjoy it,” House answers, much to Wilson’s relief. They’ve never been on a romantic date before. It’s something that Wilson has always dreamed of. To his surprise, though, House whips out two hundred dollars from his wallet. He obnoxiously waves the bills in the air. Chase gave me money to pay for the date and everything. Guess you could say the ducklings got us a free meal.”

The waiter comes by once more and takes their orders.

Wilson, unsure of what to say or do in this awkward yet pleasant situation, looks around the restaurant for something to distract him from his internal conflict. He quickly spots Chase, Cameron, and Foreman in the back of the restaurant in a booth. Cameron is in a pantsuit with her hair hidden by a hat and sunglasses on her face, Chase is in an offensively casual outfit for a restaurant like this with a backwards baseball cap on his head, and Foreman is dressed like his usual self- probably because the other two couldn’t convince him to go with such a ridiculous plan. Foreman is staring into his lap, sitting between the other two in the booth. When Chase and Cameron catch Wilson looking their way, they avert their eyes and pretend as if they haven’t been staring at House and Wilson this whole time.

“Is that them over there?” Wilson speaks up. “Behind you, don’t look too fast though or it’ll be obvious that we spotted them.”

A few seconds pass. House casually glances over his shoulder, but it’s subtle enough that none of the ducklings react, even when he turns back around and laughs out loud.

“Jesus, I couldn’t have come up with this myself. Why’d you even go along with it anyway?”

“Honestly, I just didn’t want them to get suspicious of us,” Wilson whispers so no one else in the restaurant can hear him. “You?”

“I thought it’d be funny to go on a date with one of Chase’s friends and absolutely wreck their friendship to teach him a lesson about meddling in my personal life,” House chuckles and places his hand on top of the middle of the table. Wilson reaches across and places his hand over House’s, covering it entirely. Admittedly, it’s probably a stunt from House to mess with the ducklings, but Wilson is genuinely enjoying the contact. “But this works, too.”

“Are we really that obvious?” Wilson questions with light blush.

“Maybe… Either that or it’s some sort of joke on their end.”

“Let’s hope that’s the case.”

Things get silent after that. Their food arrives, and they eat, only offering the occasional small talk to each other. House appears as if he’s deep in thought, but Wilson doesn’t dare to ask what’s going on in that brain of his.

“Wanna stay over?” House offers once the waiter comes to take the money that House left on the table for the food. Wilson begins to clean up the table, stacking dishes and making sure it’s easy for the waiter or busser to clean up once they leave. “They’ll probably think it went well if we leave together, leave us alone for a bit.”

“Sure,” Wilson agrees, and with that, they’re up and leaving the restaurant.

It’s a beautiful winter evening. Wilson thinks it’s five, maybe six o’clock. Autumn has vanished, any traces of warm days and warm-hued leaves replaced by a heavy overcast and blowing wind. It’s cold outside with a heavy breeze, and the sky is the same monotonous, listless blanket of puffy grey that it has been for the past week or so. House is properly dressed if not overdressed for the weather as per usual, a long sleeve shirt underneath his sweater and warm pants and boots to match. A white scarf is wrapped around his neck, as he tends to be cold-blooded, unlike Wilson, who remains consistently warm in most climates.

House calls a cab for them. While they wait for it to show up, they walk around the front of the restaurant, silent.

House is in deep thought. He stops walking quite abruptly, his cane firmly clicking against the ground, and looks over at Wilson. Flashing blue eyes scan his body up and down before finally burning into chocolate brown. Wilson freezes, able to feel his heart beating fast, and in the midst of the oncoming rain and the cool breeze, in the midst of the rustling dead branches and the thoughts racing in the back of his mind, Wilson asks himself one thing and one thing only.

‘Why are we still doing this?’

Luckily, House seems to have the same thought- except he actually says it out loud.

“Why are we still doing this?”

And Wilson freezes. He’s both scared and confused by House’s question, unsure of exactly what House means. He knows it entails their complicated relationship at the very least, but Wilson can’t tell if House is trying to confess his feelings or if House is about to end their friends with benefits arrangement; if it’s gone too far.

“Let’s get back to your apartment before we have this talk, House,” Wilson argues, wanting to delay the inevitable confrontation for as long as possible, but House only shakes his head and places a hand on Wilson’s face.

“I can’t do this anymore,” House insists. “This must’ve happened for a reason, don’t you think?”

“What must’ve happened?”

“This- tonight, this date, us,” House clarifies with bright red cheeks. Even though his gloved hand is ice cold, even though they’re getting stares from the people who pass by, Wilson leans into it and listens to House’s words. “I’m in love with you, and I refuse to ignore it any longer.”

“I love you, too,” Wilson whispers back. If it weren’t so clearly real, he wouldn’t be able to believe it. “I am… Completely and utterly overwhelmed by you.”

“Wilson,” House leans forward and kisses him on the lips, gentle and void of the usual lust that drives them to do what they’ve been doing.

When they break apart, Wilson rests his forehead against House’s and smiles.

“House… You’ve manifested as this- this feeling in my chest that I can’t get rid of, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to get rid of it.”

“Wilson… I think the cab is here. Let’s go home,” House mutters. “We can continue this there, yeah?”

And Wilson grins, because the years that he’s spent waiting for this are finally proving to be worth it.

“Yeah.”

[girls-alias]

Necklace. Robert Chase

Title: Necklace

Words: 1,265

Relations: Robert Chase X Reader

TW: Fluff.

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Context:

Y/N works in House's team, she's a good doctor, but the lines of morals are blurred and clearly has some issues which thankfully no one addresses. Chase and her have a crush on each other, everyone's favourite pastime is pointing his feelings out but she has a good enough poker face that everyone assumes it's not reciprocated.

I sat at the glass table, legs crossed as I looked over the files that had been clearly thrown down. Foreman was already sitting at the table looking at the files puzzled. We'd exchanged greetings but fallen silent as we read. I bit down on my lip slightly as I wondered about the case, studying it to memorise as much as I could as well as to build some theories.

I didn't look up as I recognised the clacking of shoes to be Cameron's slightly heeled shoes. "Morning," I said plainly, my attention still on the file. She groaned as she took a seat beside me. I chuckled as I finally glanced at her.

"I do not want to be here today," She commented so I scoffed as I nodded. I know the feeling. Working on the team is great, House is too much sometimes but he's bearable.

"Could say that again," Foreman chimed in. I chuckled, my attention going back to the file. I was in a world of my own. Foreman and Cameron discuss the case in the background. I jumped slightly when a small, brown paper bag was placed in front of me. I looked up confused seeing Chase walking towards his seat. I looked at him confused as he placed his bag on the back of his chair. The room fell silent.

"What?" Chase asked innocently, looking at each of us wondering why we were all confused.

"What's in the bag?" Foreman asked, sitting forward trying to peak inside from across the table.

"It's just a little gift," Chase shrugged moving away to go to the counter and start making himself a coffee. Foreman looked completely perplexed, I glanced at Cameron who simply shrugged. My eyebrows furrowed as I grabbed the bag from the table and put it in my lap as I reached inside. I looked in to see a small baggy, I pulled it out recognising it was a necklace. I looked at Chase confused as he focused on making his coffee. He glanced at me and widened his eyes. "Oh, do you want one?" He asked gesturing to his mug, clearly misunderstanding my confusion.

"Why did you get me a necklace?" I asked but he shrugged, grabbing another mug from the cupboard.

"I went to a market over the weekend and thought it would look good on you," He explained innocently. Foreman smirked as he sat back. I rolled my eyes at Foreman as I knew he was going to tease him about it. Chase isn't good at hiding that he has a crush on me, I, however, am great at hiding my crush for him. There have been times when I was close to confessing just to shut Foreman and House up about me being out of Chase's league and him not having a chance.

House entered the office abruptly with a groan. "What we got?" He asked also looking fed up with being here. I chuckled before putting the little bag with the necklace in my pocket.

"Chase got Y/L/N a necklace," Foreman announced making me sigh and roll my eyes. I saw House grinning out of the corner of my eye.

"Aww, how cute," House commented his tone matching a teenage girl pining for a guy. I rolled my eyes again as I shook my head.

"It's just a necklace," Chase sighed as he approached the table, he placed a mug of tea in front of me as he took a seat.

"And a cup of tea," House commented. Chase groaned.

"She asked for it," Chase argued but Foreman chuckled.

"No, you asked if she wanted one, she didn't reply," Foreman explained.

"Thank you, Chase. I appreciate the necklace and the tea," I commented as I grabbed the mug and took a sip. He makes the best tea.

"Not enough to wear the necklace," House commented with a grin trying to annoy me. I glared at him for being a dick.

"Can we focus on the differential?" Cameron asked clearly done with the conversation. I smiled, thankful for her change in topic.

"Yeah, Chase's pining is getting boring now. Hasn't a chance, poor guy," House commented. I rolled my eyes, once again wanting to put him in his place and make everyone well aware of my mutual pining for him.

We got on with the differential, concluding the patient needed an MRI and tox screen.

"Chase and Y/L/N, do the MRI," House instructed, I gave him a bitch face knowing he just wants us locked in a room together, it's his favourite thing to do other than taking Vicodin. I rolled my eyes as I got up and we all began leaving the office, "No sleeping together in the box," House called after us. I put my finger up at him as I passed the glass walls. He was grinning widely, clearly amusing himself. Chase followed me as we made our way to the patient's room.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have given it to you in front of them," He expressed as he pushed his hair out of his face.

"You don't have to apologise for their behaviour but why did you get me the necklace?" I asked, looking at him as we waited for the elevator. He seemed a little awkward.

"I saw it and thought of you," He shrugged innocently. I smiled.

"Thank you, I can't wait to have a look at it," I grinned before walking into the elevator as the doors opened. I watched as Chase smirked slightly as he walked in. He's adorable! We focused on the case as we introduced ourselves to the patient and got them prepped for the MRI. Chase had just finished setting them up when he came into the observation room to join me. We set the machine off and sat a little silent. The MRI is a long process so we're going to be here a while.

I took the small baggy from my pocket, Chase must have noticed my movement out of the corner of his eye as he looked at me, watching my movements. He seemed a little awkward as to where to look. I pulled the drawstring bag open and grabbed the chain, I pulled the necklace out of the bag and smiled brightly. On the silver chain was a handmade (Favourite Colour) gem held on the necklace with metal strips twisted around it. I looked at Chase happily, admiring him as he smiled at me.

"I love it, thank you," I expressed as I opened the clasp to put it on. Chase quickly stood from his chair, I smiled as I stood up recognising that he was wanting to put it on me. I handed him the open necklace and moved my hair out of the way once he had passed the necklace over my head. I grinned as I waited. He fastened the necklace, and I could feel his breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. He lowered the chain so it sat on my neck. His fingers lingered on my skin making both of our breath quicken a little. I let my hair down and touched the gem as I turned around to smile at Chase as he looked at me deeply. My smile widened as I leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you," I added before smiling innocently and moving to sit back down.

Chase stayed stood for a few moments before taking his seat and tucking it in. "You're welcome," He smiled, glancing at me as I smiled at him. God, he's so cute.

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