Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been one of those days. The kind where every reflection you passed felt like a reminder of something you wanted to change. You felt like your clothes didn’t fit quite the way you wished they would, and you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just a bad day.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, frowning at your reflection. The weight of self-doubt hung heavy on your chest, and you adjusted your shirt for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to hide the parts of yourself that you couldn’t stop picking apart.

"Everything okay in there?" Teddy’s soft voice echoed from the bedroom. She was probably perched on the edge of the bed, her blonde hair in that casual messy bun she always wore after a long shift at Grey Sloan Memorial. The kind of messy that still made her look effortlessly beautiful.

You hesitated for a second. Teddy was your girlfriend, sure. She was supportive and loving, but you couldn’t help wondering if she noticed the same things you did. If she looked at you the way you looked at yourself sometimes, with judgment.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you said automatically, though the lump in your throat said otherwise.

Teddy knew better. She always did. It was something that came with being a doctor, maybe. She had a way of reading people, noticing even the smallest changes. It was one of the reasons she was so good at her job, and she was so good at being there for you. You heard the quiet creak of the floorboards as she made her way toward you.

You met her eyes in the mirror’s reflection as she stepped into the doorway. Teddy stood there for a moment, her arms crossed, her lips tugged into that soft, gentle smile that made you feel safe. But today, the insecurities gnawing at you made it hard to accept that comfort.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice tender. "What’s going on?"

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. "It’s nothing," you mumbled. "Just… not feeling great today."

Teddy didn’t move from the doorway, but she watched you carefully. Her gaze wasn’t critical, though, that was the thing. Even on your worst days, she looked at you like you were the most important person in the world. But right now, you didn’t feel like you deserved that.

"Come on, don’t do that," she said, taking a few steps closer. "Talk to me."

Your stomach twisted. There was no point hiding from her. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the bathroom counter. "I just… I feel like nothing fits right. I hate looking in the mirror, Teddy. I don’t look the way I want to, and I feel like…" You bit your lip, your eyes filling with frustrated tears. "I feel like I’m not enough. Like I don’t look like I should. Not for me… and not for you."

The silence hung heavy between you for a moment, and you forced yourself to look away, afraid of what you might see in her face. But instead of any of the judgment you feared, you felt the soft warmth of her hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Hey," she whispered, turning you gently so that you were facing her instead of the mirror. Her hands rested lightly on your hips as she leaned in, her forehead touching yours. "I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re not enough. Not for me, not for anyone. Because you’re perfect just the way you are."

Her words hit you like a wave, and you blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. "But what if I’m not? What if I never feel… comfortable?"

Teddy’s thumbs brushed soothing circles against your sides. "I know it’s hard, and I know it’s not something that changes overnight. But I also know that you don’t have to be anything other than who you are right now for me to love you."

You wanted to believe her, but it was hard. She was Teddy Altman, this strong, intelligent, incredibly beautiful woman. And you? You had days like today, where you couldn’t even look at yourself without feeling less than.

"I just don’t see what you see," you whispered, feeling small under the weight of your own thoughts.

Teddy stepped back slightly, but only to take your face in her hands. She tilted your chin up gently, her blue eyes meeting yours with such unwavering tenderness that it nearly broke you. "Then let me show you what I see," she said, her voice low but steady.

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before resting on your forehead. "I see someone who’s strong. I see someone who gets up every day and keeps going, even when it’s hard. I see someone who makes me laugh, who makes me feel lucky every single day. And yes," she added, a smile tugging at her lips, "I see someone who is absolutely gorgeous."

You wanted to argue, to tell her all the ways she was wrong. But the warmth of her words melted away some of the doubt, even if just a little. Teddy pressed her forehead against yours again, her breath soft against your skin. "I don’t love you for how you look in the mirror. I love you. All of you. And that’s never going to change."

The sincerity in her voice was undeniable. She wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better, and she meant every word. You leaned into her touch, allowing yourself to breathe a little easier in the safe space she’d created for you.

"I don’t know if I can fix how I feel about myself," you admitted softly, your voice cracking just a bit.

Teddy smiled gently. "You don’t have to fix anything. We’ll take it one day at a time, together. And if you ever forget how amazing you are, I’ll be right here to remind you."

Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug, and you buried your face in her shoulder, letting the last of your tension melt away in her embrace. She smelled faintly of the hospital, a mix of antiseptic and that comforting scent that was just her. It was grounding, reminding you that you weren’t alone in this.

Teddy pulled back slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as she smiled down at you. "Let’s get out of here, okay? No more mirrors, no more overthinking. Just you, me, and a cozy night in."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift from your chest. "I’d like that."

And as she took your hand, leading you out of the bathroom, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, with Teddy by your side, you were going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Seattle Grace Hospital was buzzing with the usual chaos—patients rushing in, doctors running around, and somewhere, Meredith Grey weaving through the halls with her coffee in hand. She was tired. The past week had been nothing short of brutal. The pressure in the general surgery department had reached its peak, and they needed help, fast.

“Grey!” Miranda Bailey’s sharp voice cut through the noise as she approached, her no-nonsense expression making it clear that she was all business.

Meredith turned, blinking tiredly. “Yes, Dr. Bailey?”

“We’ve got someone coming in to help. Top surgeon, specializes in trauma and general surgery. I expect you to show them around, get them situated,” Bailey said, handing Meredith a tablet with information she barely had time to scan.

“Who is it?” Meredith asked, squinting at the name on the screen.

“You’ll see. They’re arriving any minute now.” Bailey didn’t offer more. She turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Meredith with more questions than answers.

Ten minutes later, Meredith found herself standing near the entrance, leaning against the nurses’ station as she checked her phone. The sliding doors opened with a quiet hiss, and in walked someone who immediately drew attention—not in the way arrogant surgeons usually did, with a swagger and a loud presence, but with a quiet confidence.

You stepped in, scanning the chaotic ER with a calm gaze. Your demeanor was collected, professional. Meredith quickly sized you up. You were older than her by a few years—Bailey had mentioned that—but it was more than your age. There was an air of experience around you, the kind that came from years spent in the trenches of surgery.

"Dr. (Y/L/N)?" Meredith called out, pushing off the counter as she walked toward you.

You turned, a warm smile lighting up your face as you extended your hand to her. "That's me. You must be Dr. Grey."

Meredith was momentarily taken aback by the softness in your voice, the genuine warmth in your eyes. She had expected someone like most other surgeons she'd met—sharp, maybe even a little arrogant, given your reputation. But you were different. Your presence was calming in a way she hadn't anticipated.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said, your smile lingering as you shook her hand.

“All good, I hope?” Meredith asked, raising an eyebrow, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

You chuckled softly. “Mostly. Dr. Bailey speaks highly of you.”

Meredith’s surprise must have shown because you added, “She doesn’t seem like the type to hand out compliments easily.”

"She's not," Meredith confirmed, then quickly regained her composure. "Come on, I’ll show you around."

You followed her through the bustling corridors, observing everything with a keen eye. As Meredith introduced you to the different areas of the hospital, she couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly you slipped into conversations with the staff. Nurses smiled as you spoke with them, interns seemed more relaxed in your presence, and even patients seemed to gravitate toward your gentle demeanor. It was… unexpected.

“So,” Meredith began, after leading you into the locker room to get you a temporary spot. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve worked with a lot of surgeons who have reputations like yours, and—”

“They weren’t as kind as you’d hoped?” you finished for her, with a knowing look.

Meredith raised a brow, mildly impressed. “Something like that.”

You let out a small laugh, sitting down on the bench as you opened your new locker. “I’ve been doing this a long time. People expect a certain level of… intensity, I guess. But being good at what I do doesn’t mean I can’t be kind.”

Meredith leaned against the lockers, crossing her arms, studying you for a moment. There was something about the way you carried yourself that intrigued her. Most surgeons with your level of skill had an edge to them—an arrogance that usually made them difficult to work with. But you were calm, approachable, almost disarming in your kindness.

“I didn’t expect that from someone who’s done the things you’ve done,” Meredith admitted, her voice softer than usual.

You shrugged lightly. “I’ve been through enough surgeries and hard cases to know that there’s already plenty of stress in this job. Being harsh or cold only adds to it. I prefer a different approach.”

For the first time in a while, Meredith felt a sense of ease around a surgeon she barely knew. There was no competition, no need to prove anything to you. It was almost refreshing. She found herself smiling—genuinely, this time.

“Maybe I could learn a thing or two from you,” she said, half-joking but half-serious.

You met her gaze, your expression softening. “I’m sure there’s a lot we could learn from each other, Meredith.”

She wasn’t used to hearing her first name from people she’d just met, but it sounded right coming from you. Comfortable. She nodded slowly, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips again. Maybe working with you wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Later that day, as you scrubbed in for your first surgery, Meredith found herself standing beside you, watching your hands move with practiced ease as you prepared for the procedure.

“You know,” she said quietly, almost contemplatively, “I think Bailey made the right call bringing you in.”

You glanced at her, that same warm smile appearing on your face. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m looking forward to working with you, Meredith.”

Meredith couldn’t help but smile back. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t dreading the long hours ahead. Maybe this partnership was exactly what she needed.

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet, a rare moment of stillness in the whirlwind that was your life as a surgeon. The kind of peace that didn’t come around often at Seattle Grace. You and Cristina were off for the evening, which itself was a miracle. No emergencies, no late-night surgeries. Just a normal, quiet night in.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping absentmindedly through a medical journal, but your mind wasn’t on the latest research. Instead, it drifted toward the woman in the kitchen, the faint clinking of dishes signaling Cristina’s presence.

You could feel it building inside you—the need to be close to her. It wasn’t something you asked for often. Cristina wasn’t exactly the "cuddly" type. She valued her space, and affection in the form of touch wasn’t her natural language. But tonight was different. There was something in the air, something pulling at you.

“Hey,” you called softly, watching as Cristina finished drying her hands on a towel. She turned, raising an eyebrow in that way she always did, like you’d interrupted her mid-surgery rather than mid-dishes.

“What?” she asked, her tone matter-of-fact, like she was ready to get down to whatever business you had in mind.

You smiled softly, setting the journal aside. “Come here for a second.”

Cristina gave you a slightly suspicious look but tossed the towel aside and walked over, crossing her arms as she stood in front of you. “What do you want?”

You rolled your eyes at her bluntness. “You make it sound like I’m about to ask you for a kidney.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” she deadpanned, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward, betraying the hint of amusement she was trying to hide.

Without answering, you reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her down to sit beside you on the couch. Cristina allowed it, though she sat with her usual posture—rigid, her arms still crossed, like she was ready to bolt at any second.

You leaned in closer, resting your head against her shoulder, your hand lightly tracing patterns on her arm. “I just wanted to be close to you for a minute,” you said, your voice quiet and warm.

Cristina froze, her body stiffening under your touch. It took her a second to process what was happening. You could practically feel her brain trying to make sense of it.

“You want to… cuddle?” she asked, her tone somewhere between incredulous and confused, as if she hadn’t just said a word that she hadn’t used since childhood.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, nuzzling your face into her shoulder. “Yes, Cristina, I want to cuddle.”

For a moment, she was silent. You knew Cristina wasn’t exactly the type to initiate this kind of thing—emotions were complicated, messy. She dealt with facts, with hard lines and logic. But you also knew she had a soft side, hidden deep down, a side she only showed when she trusted someone enough.

Eventually, she sighed, leaning back against the couch as she finally relaxed into your touch. “This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” you asked, your voice muffled against her.

“Yes. We could be doing something productive,” she replied, though the edge in her voice was already starting to fade.

You lifted your head slightly to meet her gaze. “It’s productive for me. Besides, I don’t ask for this very often. Don’t you think I deserve a little affection?”

Cristina rolled her eyes dramatically, but you could see the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. Five minutes.”

You grinned, settling back down into her side, your arm draped across her stomach. Cristina didn’t pull away. Instead, she shifted slightly, letting one arm fall around your shoulders, her hand resting awkwardly against your back like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was Cristina, and that was more than enough.

The warmth of her body next to yours made you feel safe, content. You could hear her heart beating steadily beneath your ear, and for a moment, the world outside disappeared. No surgeries, no drama, no stress. Just you and her, in this rare and precious moment of quiet.

As you snuggled in closer, you could feel her relax even more, her breathing evening out. After a few minutes, Cristina spoke, her voice low and soft.

“Don’t get used to this.”

You smiled against her shoulder. “Too late.”

She huffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Just the familiar teasing that came with the territory of being with Cristina Yang.

Eventually, Cristina’s hand began to stroke your back—tentative at first, like she was still figuring it out, but then more confident as the minutes passed. It was such a rare moment of tenderness from her that you couldn’t help but savor it.

“Alright,” she said after a while, her voice a little quieter than usual, “I guess this isn’t so bad.”

You laughed softly, tightening your hold on her for just a second. “I told you.”

Cristina didn’t respond, but she didn’t push you away either. For the rest of the night, the two of you stayed curled up together on the couch, the warmth of her body against yours more than enough to chase away the weight of the world.

Chapter Text

The soft glow of early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long, golden shadows across the bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your bare chest, fingers absentmindedly tracing the faint lines of your top surgery scars. No matter how many times you tried to look at them and feel proud—feel strong, and then there were days like today when the weight of insecurity pressed down on your shoulders.

You hadn’t heard Lisa stir behind you yet, but you knew she was there, tucked under the covers, breathing softly. You had been up for a while, unable to quiet the thoughts that were pulling you deeper into self-doubt. Normally, you were good at keeping them at bay, pushing them aside with humor or distraction. But in this moment, in the quiet stillness of the morning, the vulnerability felt too close to ignore.

The bed shifted slightly as Lisa sat up behind you, her movements slow and careful as though she knew something was wrong without even asking. Her presence was comforting, but it didn’t ease the knot that had formed in your chest. She rested her hand on your shoulder, her touch soft, and you felt her lean closer.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep, “what’s going on?”

You shook your head, biting back the words that threatened to spill out. Lisa didn’t press you, didn’t push for answers. Instead, she gently moved her hand down to your back, her thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. The warmth of her touch made you want to melt into her arms, but that gnawing feeling of self-consciousness kept you grounded, refusing to let you relax.

“It’s nothing,” you said after a moment, though your voice was tight, betraying you.

Lisa stayed quiet, watching you closely, her blue eyes filled with concern. She could always read you like an open book, even when you didn’t want her to. After a few more seconds of silence, she scooted closer to you, her arm now fully around your waist, pulling you gently toward her.

“It’s not nothing,” she said softly, her tone firm but kind. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, fingers still tracing the scars that you couldn’t quite make peace with. Your chest tightened, the insecurity suddenly feeling suffocating. You took a deep breath, your voice barely above a whisper when you finally spoke.

“I just… I don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable like this,” you admitted, gesturing to your chest, your fingertips brushing over the scars again. “Some days it’s fine, but other days… I just hate how they look. And I know they shouldn’t matter, but…”

Your words trailed off, the emotion behind them hanging in the air. It was something you hadn’t talked about much, not even with Lisa. You didn’t want to burden her, didn’t want to seem weak or unsure. But here you were, unable to keep it bottled up any longer.

Lisa was silent for a moment, processing what you’d said. Then, without a word, she moved around you, kneeling on the bed in front of you so that you had no choice but to meet her gaze. She cupped your face in her hands, her thumbs gently brushing against your cheekbones, her expression soft and filled with understanding.

“You don’t have to be okay all the time,” she said quietly, her voice soothing but full of conviction. “You don’t have to love them every day. But I want you to know… these scars don’t change how I feel about you. Not even a little bit.”

You blinked, the raw vulnerability of the moment making it hard to speak. You searched her face, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all you found was warmth, she had a steady, unyielding love. Her eyes, clear and gentle, locked with yours, and for a moment, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

“I don’t just see the scars,” she continued, her voice softening even more. “I see the person who went through something incredibly hard and came out stronger on the other side. I see the person I love, the person who makes my life better just by being in it.”

Her words wrapped around you like a blanket, warm and comforting, and you felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that, how much you needed her reassurance.

Lisa’s hands slipped from your face to your chest, her fingertips gently tracing the lines of your scars, but there was no hesitation in her touch. No discomfort. Just the same tenderness that she always showed you. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to one of the scars, then another, her lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your skin, her breath warm, her voice steady. “And I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

A quiet sob escaped your throat, and you let your head fall forward, your forehead resting against hers. Lisa didn’t move, didn’t let go. She just held you there, close, her hands rubbing soothing circles on your back as you let the emotion wash over you.

After a few minutes, you finally found your voice again, though it was shaky. “Thank you,” you murmured, your hands coming up to rest on her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her lips curving into a small smile. “Good thing you don’t have to find out.”

You chuckled softly, the sound filled with relief, as you wiped away the tears that had spilled down your cheeks. Lisa leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and you melted into her touch, letting her love and acceptance fill the cracks that your insecurities had left behind.

When she pulled away, she smiled at you again, a playful glint in her eyes. “Now, come on. Let’s go get some breakfast. You know I’m useless without coffee.”

You laughed, the lightness slowly returning, and nodded. “Alright. Coffee sounds good.”

As you stood up and reached for your shirt, Lisa caught your hand, stopping you for a second. She met your eyes again, her expression serious but filled with love.

“Any time you feel like this again, you tell me, okay? You don’t have to carry it alone.”

You nodded, squeezing her hand. “I will.”

With that, you pulled your shirt on and followed her out of the bedroom, the weight of your insecurities feeling just a little lighter, knowing that with Lisa by your side, you didn’t have to face them alone.

Chapter Text

It was one of those rare moments at Princeton-Plainsboro where things were quiet, at least for the moment. The team had just finished dealing with a particularly complicated case, and now, you, Chase, and Cameron were sitting in the break room, sipping coffee and unwinding. It wasn’t often you all had time to just relax, so you welcomed the change in pace.

Chase, however, couldn’t seem to let the calm last for long.

“You know,” Chase began, smirking over the rim of his cup, “I’m pretty sure if we compared notes, I’d come out on top in the ‘Best’ category.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him from where you were leaning against the counter. “Oh, really? You think you’re that good?”

Chase grinned, clearly ready for a challenge. “It’s not about thinking. It’s about knowing. Ask around. I’m kind of a big deal.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “I hate to break it to you, but being a big deal doesn’t mean you’re the best.”

“Oh, come on,” Chase said, leaning back in his chair with that confident smirk still in place. “Let’s be honest—between the two of us, I’ve got the skills and the looks. Not much competition there.”

You barked out a laugh, shaking your head. “You really think you’re better than me? I’d love to see you keep up in the way of House when things get intense. Besides, looks aren’t everything, mate.”

Chase narrowed his eyes playfully, raising his coffee mug in mock toast. “We can test that theory anytime you like.”

Before you could shoot back another remark, you felt someone’s eyes on you. Cameron, who had been quietly sipping her coffee and listening to the exchange with an amused expression, was now watching you closely. You suddenly felt self-conscious under her gaze, like maybe the playful banter between you and Chase had caught her attention in a way you hadn’t expected.

Her soft, knowing smile only made your heart race faster. The kind of smile that said she was enjoying watching you two bicker—but also hinted at something more. For months now, there had been an unspoken connection between you and Cameron. Little stolen glances, shared smiles, moments where you thought—maybe hoped—there was more between you than just friendship.

Chase, completely unaware of the growing tension, leaned forward, still grinning. “Let’s settle this, then. What do you think, Cameron? Who’s better?”

You tensed slightly, shooting a look at her, waiting to see how she’d respond. You were prepared for a typical, diplomatic Cameron answer. Something along the lines of "You’re both great in different ways."

But instead, Cameron met your eyes again, and her smile shifted, becoming softer, more genuine.

“Honestly?” she said, setting her coffee down and folding her hands in her lap. “I’ve already made my choice.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Chase blinked, glancing between the two of you, clearly missing the subtle change in the atmosphere. “Wait, what? You’re picking a side?”

Cameron turned her attention to Chase briefly, a polite smile on her lips. “Sorry, Chase. You’re great, but…” Her eyes slid back to you, her gaze warm and unwavering. “My eyes have been on someone else for a while now.”

Chase’s face fell for a second as he processed what she was saying, then his expression morphed into a mix of surprise and realization. “Oh.” He glanced between you and Cameron, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Oh.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your pulse quickening as Cameron’s words sank in. You weren’t exactly sure what to say. After all this time of thinking maybe, possibly, there could be something between you, Cameron had just confirmed it in a way you hadn’t expected.

Chase stood up, clapping you on the shoulder with a good-natured chuckle. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to… whatever this is.”

You gave him a half-hearted glare, but he just winked and strolled out of the room, leaving you and Cameron alone.

For a moment, there was silence. The playful energy from earlier had faded, replaced by a quiet, charged tension that made the room feel smaller. Cameron was still watching you, her expression calm, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes, something vulnerable, maybe even a little nervous.

“So,” you began, your voice a little unsteady as you met her gaze. “What was that about?”

Cameron tilted her head, her smile softening as she took a step closer to you. “It’s true, you know. I’ve been paying attention to you. And… I wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, a relieved smile tugging at your lips. “I didn’t think I was being that subtle.”

Cameron chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you adored. “You weren’t. I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to make the first move.”

Your pulse quickened, and you took a step toward her, feeling the invisible pull between you two grow stronger. “I guess I wasn’t sure either. Until now.”

Cameron looked up at you, her eyes soft and filled with something that made your chest tighten. She was close now, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her body, close enough that you could see every little detail of her face, the curve of her lips, the slight flush in her cheeks.

Before either of you could say anything more, you closed the distance between you, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss. Cameron responded immediately, her hand coming up to rest on your arm as she kissed you back with a quiet intensity that made your heart race.

When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless, but the smile on Cameron’s face made your head spin.

“Looks like I win,” you murmured, your voice teasing but soft.

Cameron laughed quietly, her hand slipping into yours as she gave it a light squeeze. “Yeah. I think you do.”

Chapter Text

Six years. Six long, exhausting, exhilarating years of working alongside Gregory House. Somehow, you’d survived. You weren’t sure how, considering the endless verbal sparring matches, the sarcastic quips, and the back-and-forth tension that filled the air every time you two were in the same room.

Yet here you were, still standing. Still waiting.

It wasn’t a surprise that House had gotten under your skin—it was what he did. He pushed people to their limits, broke down walls with cruel precision, and then left you to pick up the pieces. But what was surprising ,but what you didn’t fully understand, was how, somewhere along the way, amid all the bickering and biting remarks, you’d started to fall for him.

Not that you’d ever admit that out loud. Not to him.

But after six years of this unspoken game, you were done waiting. If there was anything between the two of you beyond the snark and sarcasm, you were going to find out.

You were in House’s office, late in the evening, after a long day of a complicated case. The rest of the team had gone home, leaving you alone with House as you both worked through the last of the paperwork.

Or, rather, you worked. House was lounging on his chair, bouncing his cane against the floor, his eyes lazily flicking over the files in front of him.

“You know,” he drawled, not looking up from his papers, “I thought you’d be gone by now. You’ve never been one for overachieving.”

You shot him a sidelong glance. “Someone has to finish this mess. It’s not going to magically fill itself out.”

“Paperwork is beneath me,” House said, tapping his cane a little harder now, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s more suited for those who enjoy being useful.”

You snorted. “So, you?”

House looked up at that, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were still playing ‘Who can outsnark the other.’ You know you never win that game, right?”

Your lips twitched upward, the familiar banter lifting some of the day’s tension. “Give it time. I’ve got six years of practice now.”

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his cane against his leg as he considered you. “Six years… And yet, you still haven’t gotten sick of me. Most people do.”

“I guess I’m tougher than most people,” you shot back, your tone light but your pulse quickening. This was always how it started, the back-and-forth, the banter that had become a constant over the years. But tonight, it felt… different.

He gave you a look, one of those sharp, calculating stares that made you feel like he could see straight through you. “Tougher, or just stupidly stubborn?”

You chuckled, leaning back in your own chair. “Maybe both.”

For a moment, there was a lull in the conversation, the air between you thickening with something unsaid. You could feel it, you had felt it for years now, that undercurrent of something more beneath the arguments, the sarcasm. But House was impossible, a man who hid behind walls so thick that even you couldn’t always break through.

But tonight? You were done hiding.

Taking a deep breath, you set your pen down and turned to him fully. “Gregory.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the sudden seriousness in your tone. “Uh-oh, using my actual name. Am I in trouble?”

You ignored his attempt to deflect, your heart racing as you leaned forward slightly. “Why are we still doing this?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, and you saw it, the brief flicker of something in his eyes, something that made your stomach flip. “Doing what, exactly?”

“This,” you gestured between the two of you, “the constant back-and-forth, the bickering, the pushing each other’s buttons. Six years, House. And it’s been… whatever this is for almost all of it.”

He was quiet for a beat, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, the way he was trying to figure out where you were going with this.

“And?” he asked, his voice softer now, the edge of sarcasm gone.

“And…” You took a breath, your pulse pounding in your ears. “I’m done pretending like it doesn’t mean something. Like you don’t mean something.”

House’s eyes flickered with something, surprise? Curiosity? Fear, But before he schooled his features back into his usual unreadable mask. He leaned back in his chair, gripping his cane a little tighter than usual.

“You’re being dramatic,” he said, but there was no bite to his words.

“No, I’m being honest,” you shot back. “For once.”

The room fell into a thick, charged silence, the weight of your words hanging between you. House stared at you, his blue eyes sharp, cutting, but not cruel. You could see him thinking, trying to decide how to react, how to handle this shift in dynamic.

And then, before you could second-guess yourself, before you could let the fear of rejection stop you, you stood up, closing the distance between you in a few quick steps. House’s eyes widened just a fraction as you moved closer, standing in front of him, your heart pounding so hard you thought he might hear it.

“I’m making the first move,” you said quietly, your voice trembling just slightly. “Because I’m tired of waiting for you to do it.”

For a second, you thought you’d misread everything. That maybe all those years of bickering and tension had just been in your head. But then House’s eyes softened, just a little, and the corner of his mouth twitched into something that almost looked like a smile.

“And what if I never make a move?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, but there was something else there too. Vulnerability, maybe. Hesitation.

“Then I’m really glad I did,” you whispered, leaning down and gently brushing your lips against his.

For a moment, House didn’t move, frozen under your touch. But then, after what felt like an eternity, you felt him respond, his hand coming up to lightly grip your waist, his lips pressing back against yours with a slow, deliberate intensity that made your knees weak.

The kiss was slow, languid, like both of you were savoring the moment after years of buildup. When you finally pulled back, you were breathless, your heart racing, but the smirk on House’s face made it all worth it.

“Well,” he said, his voice still teasing but softer than you’d ever heard it, “took you long enough.”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “Shut up.”

And for the first time in six years, Gregory House did just that.

Chapter Text

The day had been long, exhausting. Age regression always took its toll on you, especially on days like this when the stress of the world seemed to weigh down on your shoulders. You curled up on the couch, knees tucked against your chest, trying to hold back tears that had been building for hours. It was overwhelming sometimes, retreating into that softer, more vulnerable part of yourself, but there was always a constant in the storm, Derek.

The door to the living room creaked open, and you felt his familiar presence before you even saw him. He’d just come back from a late shift at the hospital, still in his scrubs, but his focus was entirely on you. You heard his footsteps pad softly on the carpet as he crossed the room, his brow furrowing with concern when he saw how small and tired you looked.

“Hey, there you are,” Derek said softly, kneeling in front of you. “How’s my little sunshine doing?”

His voice was like a warm blanket, wrapping you up in safety and care. You peeked up at him through your lashes, your eyes still wet from the emotions swirling inside. You didn’t have the energy to speak, but he understood, as he always did. Gently, he reached for your hands, holding them in his larger, steady grip.

“Rough day, huh?” he murmured, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand in soothing circles. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You nodded slowly, letting out a soft whimper, feeling yourself sink further into that regressed space where words seemed hard to find. Derek didn’t need words, though. He always knew what you needed before you could even ask.

“Come here, baby,” he coaxed gently, opening his arms wide.

Without hesitation, you shuffled forward and let yourself fall into his embrace. Derek wrapped his arms around you securely, his chest solid and warm against your cheek. His fingers stroked your hair, the rhythm of his touch lulling you into a calm you hadn’t felt all day. You closed your eyes, burying your face into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, soap and the faintest hint of aftershave. It was comforting, grounding.

“You’re so strong, you know that?” he whispered against the top of your head. “But you don’t have to be right now. You can just be my sweet little one, okay?”

A quiet sigh left your lips, your body going slack in his hold. His words made it easier to let go, to allow yourself to slip into that soft, vulnerable space where you didn’t have to worry about anything. Not about the stress that had built up, not about the world outside. Just you and Derek.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he promised, his voice low and soothing. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something cozy, hmm? Then we can cuddle up in bed. Sound good, my love?”

You nodded against his chest, feeling the tension in your muscles finally begin to ease. Derek was always so patient, so gentle. It was like he knew exactly when you needed the world to slow down, when you needed someone to take the weight off your shoulders.

He helped you to your feet, keeping an arm around your waist as he guided you to the bedroom. There, he carefully picked out your softest pajamas, the ones you loved the most, and helped you change out of your clothes. His hands were tender, never rushing, and he kept murmuring sweet things as he did.

“There we go, perfect,” he said, after he pulled the pajama top over your head. “My little star, all cozy and cute.”

Once you were dressed, Derek led you to the bed, tucking you beneath the blankets. He climbed in next to you, pulling you close to him again, wrapping his arms around you like a protective cocoon. You could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear as you rested your head on his chest.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ve done so well today.”

You nuzzled against him, feeling a small smile tug at your lips for the first time in what felt like forever. He was so warm, so comforting, and his presence made the world feel a little less scary.

“I love you, little one,” Derek murmured, his voice the last thing you heard before you drifted off into peaceful sleep, safe in his arms. “And I’m always here for you.”

Chapter Text

Feel free to request, I'm bored enough as it is.

Writing professionally does take time tho, like I have to edit all my work and stuff.

But I'm a fast typer —you sure?— when I want to be.

Chapter Text

A- Affection 🌸

Meredith is quite affectionate when you're alone. She probably isn't as affectionate in public. When you're alone she's bound to stay close, cuddle, or hold hands with you.

A- Arguing 💥

You rarely ever argue, and when you do it's usually about you or her not getting enough sleep. If you ever have a row, Meredith usually just threatens to make you sleep on the couch.

A- Allowance ♥️

Meredith does have some boundaries when it comes to things. She won't completely participate in BDSM (sorry guys)but it's highly possible she will participate in Puppy Play. She probably doesn't so rope play or spanking too often but when you're in the mood she probably will.

Teasing you is one of her favorite things.

A- Arm

She loves marking your arms, it's probably one of her favorite body parts, besides your neck, although she won't admit it.

A- Answer

Usually she answers her phone thirty minutes to an hour,.sometimes spanning on two.

She has a job y'know.

★

B- Body Part

She loves your arms and neck. She likes to mark you. If you usually wear turtlenecks she might be a little bit annoyed or sad, but she's not forceful.

B- Beating

No. She will never harm you.

B- Belittling

She loves to tease you.

★

C- Care

She does beginning care and after care.

C- Casualties

She probably usually feels like she's not good enough for you.

C- Complain

She probably will only complain about something after she's hinted you to do it.

★

D- Delivery

She's good at delivering and receiving sexual and romantic attraction. It's just that sometimes she won't believe in herself.

D- Day

During the day, she's most likely not too horny, but they're are chances she'll be the one to give you a quickie.

★

E- Excited

She can get very excited but can mildly control herself.

E- Edging.

Depends on her mood, she'll probably edge you more than she's edges.

E- Events

♂️ She will probably suck you off, there is a chance she'll peg you if you're into that. Of course penetration sex is on the menu, never her ass though.

♀️She loves to lick you, whether it's your pussy or neck (sometimes even your breasts) she's there. She's also bound to finger you or edge you more often.

★

F- Feral

Not usually, Meredith is probably a slow and peaceful lover, but that doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate rough sex.

F- Flexibility

Very, any questions?

★
G- Game

Games where you get drunk and undress one article of clothing.

★
H- Help

She loves to help. Making you happy makes her happy.

★

I- Intelligence/experience

She understands the concept of sex, she can commit and do the act, you may have to teach her new things tho.

★

J- Jest

As I've mentioned, she's very teasing.

★

K- Keep

She usually has a picture of you in her scrubs.

K- Kinks

Probably playing Doctor and Patient but it's extremely rare.

★

L- Love

She loves you more than anything

L- Lust

She can be very lustful or not too lustful. It all depends on her mood.

★

M- Moan

Depends on where you are. If you're in the hospital she's usually the quiet one.

If you're at home, she can be pretty loud.

M- Melt

She'll melt into your arms. She loves you, and finds comfort in just being around you.

M- Masturbate

She rarely masturbates, although when she does, she'll usually send you a video.

★

N- Narcissist

Not too much, but sometimes, very rarely she'll have a narcissistic mindset.

N- Naked

👀 After commiting, she's usually either naked when you wake up, or wearing underwear. I'd like to say Meredith likes wearing lingerie or boxer shorts.

★

O- Orientation

I'd like to think Meredith is Omnisexual and sexually active. Probably a little bit of hypersexuality.

O- Open

Open to most things.

★

P- Pee/ Poop

What? No. If you're into that... You aren't too compatible with Meredith. (And most of the others)

★

Q- Quilt

She likes to make stuff for you when she can.

Q- Question

Rarely, unless she's feeling bold or feeling like she's done wrong.

★

R- Rest

She needs it.

R- Reading

She likes reading with you.

★

T- Table

Very rarely there is a chance she'll fuck you on the table.

T- Test

She likes to test your limits.

★

‡N/A

★

V- Vents

It's rare she'll vent to you, but if you listen, she'll lather you in love.

★

W- Winter

Cuddles.

★

X- X-ray

Neck and arms.

★

Y- You

She loves you, I can't stress that enough.

★

‡N/A