#nurse’s office tw

[determinedwriter]

Whumptober 2023: Day 26: Working To Exhaustion/“You look awful.”

Ro

High school freaking sucks. I kind of knew it would, but I’ll admit I’m smart enough to push through. Or at least I thought I was.

Going to a STEM school makes everyone look smart. And they know it. Nobody knows I’m Tony Stark’s kid, so I’m just like everyone else. An average teenager.

I thought that’s what I wanted, but I think it’s almost making things worse. As far as anyone knows, I’m just some orphan. I suppose the same goes for Peter though. And he really is one.

I shouldn’t complain. But sometimes I wish I could unleash my powers on my school bullies and burn all of my terrible test scores.

I’ve been studying like crazy lately. Ever since I came home with a subpar grade on my latest project at school.

Dad acted like he didn’t care, but I saw the frown. I saw the look in his eyes. And when he’s disappointed in me, it feels like a stab to the heart.

Even if he doesn’t mean for it to hurt, it does. I think it hurts more when he lies and tells me it’s okay. I know he wants me to succeed. He wants me to be smarter than this.

Who wouldn’t want that? Especially considering he’s one of the smartest people on the planet. But my endless studying has begun to take a toll on me.

Friday chimes to life from the ceiling to speak to me. “Miss Aurora, your father is asking you to come to dinner.”

I look down at my textbook and notes. “Tell him I’m not hungry but…thanks.”

“Of course, Miss.” She replies.

I study until there’s a knock on my door. “Ro?”

“Hmm?” I ask.

Dad opens it. “Missed you at dinner. What’re you up to?”

“Studying.” I reply honestly. “Sorry I didn’t come to eat. I just wasn’t hungry really.”

He nods. “It’s alright. Make sure you get some sleep though. It’s a school night.”

“Yup.” I say. “Goodnight.”

Dad nods again. “‘Night, kiddo.”

I sigh in relief when he leaves. I’m exhausted and I don’t want him to see how much this school crap is killing me.

He deserves a kid that’s not going to flip out about the little stuff like I am.

But that’s not gonna happen, so I’m going to do my best to be who he deserves.

Working harder and harder as the days pass, practically killing myself in the process. I’m working myself to exhaustion.

The day of the big test I’ve been studying for, I can hardly make my way to my classroom. Peter notices this in an instant.

He supports my weight as I stumble in the doorway of the class, Flash making one of his very unnecessary comments. “Careful everyone, Ro’s a zombie. Don’t get bitten. Too bad she’s gonna fail this test with her lack of brains.”

“Shut up, Flash.” Peter says, helping me sit. “Ro, are you gonna be alright?”

Flash smirks. “What? I’m just saying. Zombies don’t have brains, right? Or at least they don’t use them.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t have energy for your crap.”

“Hence the zombie thing you have going on?” He asks. “I mean, you look awful.”

Peter glares at him. “Seriously dude, just drop it.”

I sigh. “It’s whatever.”

He rubs my back. “Do you need anything?”

I shrug. “No…”

He takes a water bottle out of his backpack. “Drink up. Just a little.”

“I don’t feel good.” I mumble back. “Thanks, though.”

Peter puts the bottle away, watching me nervously as our tests are handed out. Here we go. Time to either crush this or disappoint my dad once more.

“Your time starts now.” I hear the teacher tell us.

My hand shakes as I write with my pencil, the lead breaking as I press down a little too hard. God, I’m going to give myself a heart attack.

Peter notices this, silently handing me another pencil.

“Thanks.” I whisper.

He nods and gives me a thumbs up, going back to his own test after that. He’s smart as hell, but he’s probably stressed about it too.

Maybe I should’ve studied with him. I’ve been keeping to myself and doing that alone lately. It’s too late to worry about that now. Just get this done.

About halfway through the test, I can hardly ignore my dizziness and anxiety. People have begun to turn theirs in and I’m way too far behind.

God, what’s the use in studying if it just ends with me failing all over again? I’m really starting to panic now. It’s a good thing nobody knows I’m a Stark.

I shouldn’t have any association with the great Tony Stark. It’s a wonder we’re even related in the first place.

I hadn’t realized it, but my panic has become obvious now. Peter is touching my shoulder and my teacher is calling my name.

My eyes land on Flash, who laughs. I don’t know why this sends me off the deep end the way it does, but here we are. I’ve begun to hyperventilate.

“Aurora? Aurora, what’s the matter?” My teacher asks.

“I think she’s having a panic attack.” Peter explains. “Ro, just take it one step at a time. Breathe with me. Can you-“

I wobble in my chair, fainting before I hit the floor. I’ve literally worked myself to the point of unconsciousness. I didn’t think it was this bad.

My eyes open to see Peter’s face above me, carrying me quickly down the hallway. “P-Pete?”

“Ro, thank God!” He exclaims. “You scared me half to death.”

Still woozy, I don’t immediately understand why I’m his arms. “I’m…tired…”

“Try to keep your eyes open. Please.” Peter begs. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m taking you to the nurse.”

I weakly nod, but pass out again shortly after that and wake up on a cot in the nurse’s office. This time, Peter is sitting beside me.

“H-How long was I out?” I ask.

“Only a little bit. I ran here with you.” He explains. “I think everyone was more surprised I could carry you than the fact you fainted.”

“Fainted…” I echo. “Why did I…”

“You’re exhausted and dehydrated.” The nurse speaks up. I hadn’t noticed she was in the room at all.

“Oh…” I reply. “I-I don’t feel well.”

“No wonder you don’t feel well, honey. Please, just rest for now. I’ve called your emergency contact.” She tells me.

“Who is that again?” I ask, knowing it’s not Dad. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t put his name on it for my own protection and privacy.

“Harold Hogan and Pepper Potts are the two we have listed. Mr. Hogan is on his way.” The nurse replies.

I hate to whine, but I’d really like my dad right about now. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” She says.

Peter holds out the same water bottle from before. “I’m making you drink some this time.”

I chuckle weakly. “Okay.”

Taking a few sips, I lay back down until Happy arrives, looking concerned. “Hey, kid. How do you feel?”

“Like garbage.” I tell him. “I really want to go home but I need to finish that test. I’ve already disappointed my dad enough. He needs me to-“

“I need you to take it easy.” Dad finishes for me, revealing himself in the doorway and entering. “I won’t have it any other way, you got it?”

“Dad?” I gasp. “W-Why are you here? You never come here.”

“Happy told me what the nurse said. You fainted. I’m not about to leave you alone. Even if you do have him and the spider kid here.” He replies. “You look exhausted. What happened, Ro?”

I gulp, replaying the past week or so in my head. I’ve hardly eaten, drank, or slept. “I just…wanted you to be proud of me.”

Dad’s face softens in concern. “Oh, baby…it’s okay. I’m so proud of you. Nothing will ever change that. I know you’ve been studying a lot lately but I didn’t realize you were practically killing yourself over it. This could have gone much, much worse.”

Hearing the scolding, I avoid his gaze by closing my eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t want to fail. I wanted to…I just wanted to be like you. I want to be smart and not even have to try and…and I can’t even do that without fainting in the middle of class.”

He sighs. “Well first of all, I don’t want you to do this ever again. I won’t have it. And second of all, you’re almost too much like me. You’re smart and you're stubborn. That’s what got you here. You put too much pressure on yourself. When was the last time you saw me get to bed at a reasonable hour?”

I shrug. “That’s different.”

“It isn’t.” Dad insists. “Having trouble with school doesn’t make you any less of a damn prodigy, kiddo. I don’t call you mini for nothing. Mini Stark. Thank God you’re not my clone though. You have empathy.”

“So do you.” I say.

“Not like yours. And yours is just natural. Effortless. I wish you had more confidence in yourself, but I’m glad you don’t have my arrogance. Even I can admit I have a big head.” He continues. “Though…I am a genius.”

Noticing I don’t laugh at this, he frowns. “I’m sorry, sweet kid. My point is…the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re smart. And your struggles don’t mean you’re not. I need you to trust me on this.”

I slowly nod, hugging him. “I didn’t mean to not take care of myself. I just got so wrapped up in trying to make you proud…I wasn’t thinking. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t realize. You can come to me with these things alright?” He replies.

“Alright.” I say.

He wraps an arm around me and helps me stand. “I’ll have Happy take us home and you can rest, okay?”

“What about my test?” I ask.

Dad scoffs. “You’ll ace it. I’ll make sure you get time to do a make up test. Don’t worry.”

I lean on his shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’ve got it, micro.” He replies.

Peter speaks up for the first time in a good few minutes. “You’re a cool dad, Mr. Stark.”

“You know it, kid.” Dad teases. “Thanks for getting her here, by the way.”

He nods. “Of course, sir.”

Dad brings me to the car where Happy drives us home, making sure I get some desperately needed sleep and lots of water too.

Slowly but surely, I’m able to feel less anxious about test days. And Dad’s help is invaluable. He says I had it in me all along, but I credit him in helping me with my grades either way.

There’s nothing quite like a father-daughter duo.

Especially when they’re a couple of Starks.

We’re thick as thieves. And that won’t change as long as he’s by my side.

[corrodedcoughin]

court awarded a terf piece of shit 100k because she was seemingly fired for having ‘gender critical’ views and now everyone is congratulating her. so just to say if you are a terf get the fuck off of here. And anyone who doesn’t fall into the demands of ‘gender critics’ I fucking love you and I am so glad you are here

[bunn-iiii]

I love getting emails and announcements from teachers about new rules being put into my school that are very clearly ableist and not being told if I will be an exception to these ableist rules or if I'll have to keep forcing myself into smaller and smaller boxes to be a "better disabled person" by fitting into ableist one size fits all rules.

[ink-asunder]

Soul Eater question - Medical talk tw

Hey, so what do we think of the DWMA's infirmary unit? Just a school nurse's office where they can't do anything, or a fully stocked medical facility capable of doing most things? Should the DWMA have a hospital on campus for mission-related medical care? Like, Soul had surgery in the DWMA infirmary, so clearly there's more to it than just "two beds and adult supervision." What if a student got REALLY hurt on a mission and required imaging like a CT scan or MRI? I know they can outsource and send imaging orders to local imaging facilities, but idk how well that will go over given that the DWMA is probably it's own provider and idk how ~insurance~ would handle things?? Can the infirmary handle chronic illness treatment/accommodations, or will it ONLY provide medical care relevant to missions?

We know that the DWMA infirmary can do surgery, blood tests, prescribe and fill medications, and take care of grievously injured students after missions.

[softsnzstuff]

for the doctor AU, Dr. Eddie gets sick w a stomach bug and steve takes him home from work?

Aww, I don’t usually write stomach centered fics, however please accept this small drabble with sick Eddie 🥺

TW: emeto, v*mit

“Eddie…” Steve whined, “stay home today, please?”

Eddie was standing in their en suite bathroom, leaning over the sink, gripping the counter.

“I’m…fine…” he swallowed hard.

Steve walked up behind him, hair disheveled from sleep.

“Eds you were up all night… you must feel awful.”

Steve cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes, his own full of worry.

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry. Just got a little bit dizzy…”

Dizzy was the understatement of the year. He felt like someone had ripped out his stomach, blended it up, and poured it back in. He hadn’t slept all night. He was either too hot, too cold, or he was tossing and turning from discomfort.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked.

Eddie nodded and finished getting dressed. He headed to the kitchen while Steve showered.

The thought of breakfast or even his usual coffee made his stomach churn. He sat on the couch and closed his eyes just for a moment instead. He brought his knees to his chest, stomach hurting.

“Hey ready to go?”

Eddie cracked an eye open. Steve was standing above him with a concerned look.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Did you eat something?”

Eddie grimaced, “Um.. yeah I had some toast.” He lied.

The older man got up, putting on his shoes as Steve grabbed the car keys so they could head out.

The drive to work, while short, was hell. Eddie felt every single bump, every pothole; every turn felt like he was in a cyclone. He had his head rested against the cool glass of the window as he slowly breathed in the cool air from the air conditioning vent.

The car bounced to a stop, Eddie bringing a closed fist up to his mouth.

“Are you okay??”

“Mmm….. yeah. Sorry. I’m good.”

He all but stumbled out of the car, grateful for the cool air hitting his face and bringing him back to the land of the living. God he wasn’t sure if he could keep this up all day.

He scanned in and went to his office, immediately resting his head on the table.

“Hey doc! Can you settle this debate Nancy and I have going? See, I … hey are you okay?”

Eddie was so tired of everyone asking if he was fucking okay, but he couldn’t snap at Robin. She was just trying to help. He looked up at her and frowned at the scared face she made.

She stepped forward, and reached for his forehead.

“Dude you’re burning up…” she pulled her hand back quickly, “Ew! And you’re all sweaty, Eddie what the hell-?”

Steve had walked in just then, shouldering his backpack in his way in.

“What’s going on?”

“Eddie’s like super sweaty and really warm.”

Steve pulled his best ‘I Told You So’ face and stepped into the doorframe.

“Eddie…”

“Steve I told you, I’m-”

The older man got very still, Robin swearing she saw his pallor turn a pale green. He swallowed hard again and his eyes got wide.

Eddie kept from his desk and bolted out the door, Steve staggering as he got pushed out of the way.

“Oh shit.” Robin muttered, going after him.

Eddie was on his knees in the staff bathroom, door still wide open. He leaned over the toilet and heaved, emptying the contents from his stomach.

“Steve!!!” Robin yelled.

It was a well known fact around Hawkins Medical that Doctor Rockstar didn’t do vomit. Not even his own.

Robin knelt down, crinkling her nose at the smell and rubbing a half on his back. He opened his eyes just for a moment. As soon as he saw the toilet’s contents he gagged again, Robin feeling his entire body convulse.

“Jesus Eddie, I told you to stay home today. Robs can you go get me an ice pack please?”

Robin nodded and stood up, Steve taking her place by his side. He flushed the toilet and used a rubber band to tie Eddie’s sweaty hair out of his face.

“M’sorry Steve, I thought-” he retched again, nothing but bile coming up.

Robin jogged back, sliding in her sneakers as she turned the corner. She cracked the instant ice pack and handed it to Steve, who put it on the back of Eddie’s neck.

“I’ll tell Nancy that I’ll have to reschedule his patients the next few days to her and Billy. And uh. I brought you this for when you bring him home.”

She handed the nurse an emesis bag for the car.

“Thanks Robin.” Steve said, “You done Eddie?”

The man seemed to think for a minute before he nodded.

***

The drive home was thankfully uneventful. Eddie managed to make it to their apartment bathroom before his stomach got the best of him again.

Bent over, hands on his knees, he coughed and spit into the toilet.

“Im gonna run you a bath okay?” Steve sidestepped his partner, who was sitting in a ball on the floor.

Steve turned on the tap, making sure it wasn’t too hot or too cold, and then opened the medicine cabinet to pull out the thermometer.

“Open.” He leaned down towards Eddie.

The older man shook his head no.

“Eddie.” Steves voice was more stern this time as he held out the plastic device.

Eddie huffed a sigh and opened his mouth so Steve could slip it under his tongue.

The bath was full by the time the thermometer beeped. Steve took it out to look.

“Is it fatal?” Eddie asked.

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Little over 101°. Not fatal but you probably picked up a stomach bug.”

Eddie groaned, “I think I’d rather it be fatal.”

“I’m sorry babe.” Steve kissed his hair and then winced. “Time for a bath, you smell like throw up and sweat.”

***

After Eddie was sufficiently clean, he put on sweats and a loose tee shirt. He didn’t want something that would cling to his skin.

Steve walked Eddie to their bed. Instead of laying down, Eddie got on his knees and rolled forward into a little ball.

“Eds, that doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“S’the only way my stomach doesn’t hurt.” Came a response mumbled through the blankets.

“Okay.” Steve decided. Pick your battles.

He got a light blanket out from the closet and draped it over Eddie’s snail-like form. He made two more trips in, one with Gatorade and one with a plastic lined trash can.

Steve sat on the bed, Eddie feeling the mattress dip as he did. Next thing he knew, his hair was being touched. He perked an eye out from being buried in the mattress.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m braiding your hair so it’s out of your face, silly.”

“You don’t have to stay y’know. I’m all gross.” He mumbled.

“Eds, you don’t do vomit and you have a stomach bug. I’m not leaving you alone.”

Eddie could cry, that was so sweet. He just buried his face back into the mattress, resuming his curled position.

“I love you Steve.”

[ghostzussy]

hey. quick question for my autoimmune besties. I am fully aware this is a long shot cuz it's just such a fucked up condition but maybe someone else has had this issue? Idk I'm desperate

Alright so for 3 years I've had a lot of symptoms of thyroid disease, but my labs keep coming back normal except for my thyroglobulin and microsomal antibodies, which should be at 4 and 6 but mine are in the 100's and 200's. Because of this my doctors (I've seen 3 endocrinologists, two rheumatologists, an allergist, and a few others I can't remember atm) and they all keep saying there's nothing they can do, I just have to wait it out. There's been no further testing other than for thyroid disease. I've been told "we don't know anything about your condition, there's no studies on it" more times than I can count. I've been billed WHILE STILL IN THE OFFICE of specialists who spent 5 minutes with me only to say they didn't know. I've been told it's because I'm overweight. (I'm a little chubby but nothing unhealthy or unmanageable.)

Mostly my symptoms have been manageable but a couple months ago it seems like my symptoms started getting worse, but taking turns??? Like for a few weeks the joint pain is unbearable, then disappears. Then it was hives. Now it's the fatigue. Mood swings and depression seem to be constant though.

Genuinely starting to feel like something is wrong, or getting worse. But my labs are still normal, and I don't know if this is thyroid storm. Doctors don't want to pursue it, and I'm still waiting on a response from my primary (it's been a month). I just. I don't know what to do. I'm so overwhelmed. I've seen the best doctors in my area. It's been years.

please please please can an experienced autoimmune person give me advice or at least tell me I'm gonna be ok (even if that's a lie) or maybe even someone else has had this issue.

[endlayer]

ok to expand on the him knowing im a fictive. towards the beginning of the year when i had him for psychology i was like hey. you're understand of mental health stuff (1. he was teaching psych + teaches ap psych 2. he's had his own severe issues and 3. he's just kind and caring) so just so you know i have dissociative identity disorder and he's like okay like if in class you're switching or anything or dissociated don't worry about it you can always do something else besides the work or step outside. anyways later on in the year when i had him for history i was skipping gym class in his room and he was like so why'd you choose the name june (my irl name) and im like. Okay so remember how I have DID. and i explained introjects to him 😭

[haunted-house-heart]

i'm not doing blood work anymore. like ever. no i'm not joking.

[st4rg8te]

Foul Play ♡

Yandere-ish! Scummy Teammate X Athlete! Male Reader

TW: HEAVY NSFW, dubcon, humiliation, degradation, semi-public(?), dirty talk, slut shaming, mind-break, hidden s*x toy.

[A/N: CHARACTERS ARE ALL 18+ Not edited. I literally cannot believe what I just wrote, sorry everybody.]

✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧

The shrill sound of your coach's whistle, accompanied by your teammates' frustrated groans immediately snapped you out of your feverish daze. 

You had messed up again.

“Haah…”

A heavy breath escaped your lips as you quickly rubbed the sweat away from your forehead with the back of your hand. The basketball fell from your grasp with a dull thud, and you braced yourself for the next scathing words to come your way.

"That's the third time today [Y/N]!" Your coach shouted as he quickly walked to where you were standing, his face contorted in displeasure, "What the hell's gotten into you?"

 You could only look down at the ground in shame at his words, feeling your face heat up further from the disapproving gazes of your teammates that were now directed toward you.

"Sorry coach, I... didn't mean to." You managed to squeeze the words out through gritted teeth, feeling your body beginning to tremble.

"Why is your face so red?" Your coach's eyebrows knit together, clearly puzzled.

"I…Ah~!”

Before you could answer him, a wave of pleasure suddenly hit your body, and you buckled under your knees with a yelp. 

Your shoulders were grabbed by a firm pair of hands, keeping you in place. It took every ounce of strength not to flinch as they made contact with your hot skin. A deep, familiar voice rang out behind you, sending a wave of goosebumps down your body.

 "Sorry coach, it’s my fault. [Y/N] didn't want me to tell you that he wasn't feeling well today. I should have stopped him sooner." 

His warm breath tickled your ears, and you swallowed hard before glancing back up, meeting the dark gaze of the taller male. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his lips pulled up into a smug smile. 

That bastard... He was doing this on purpose!

However, your coach seemed oblivious to the interaction between both of you, and nodded his head at your teammate with a sigh, "Of course he didn't… You, go sit out or head to the nurse’s office, I don't need you dragging the other players down." 

"I can go along with him, sir."

"Wait, I can go on my own—" You helplessly squirmed under his grasp.

"Can I entrust you with him for the rest of practice then?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but a glare from the older man immediately shut you up. You could only let yourself be dragged away by your teammate, dreading for what was to come.

✦✧✦✧

The moment you reached the vacant school corridor, the taller male immediately shoved you into the storage room, making you slam painfully against the wall. 

Before you could react, a hot, wet tongue slid into your mouth, forcing its way inside. You struggled weakly, clawing against the other male's chest as pleasure began to take over your senses.

He parted away after a brief moment to gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to yours.

"Ha-aah.."

"Fuck. I've never been so turned on before." He groaned lowly, "You’re such a slut, moaning in front of everyone. Did you want to get caught that badly?"

You were beyond humiliated. Face burning in anger, your hands roughly shoved him off of you. He stumbled backward slightly, but an ever-so-annoying smirk stayed firmly fixed on his features. 

"Shut up! Just get that... that thing out of me!" 

The only response you received was a loud chuckle. You looked like you wanted to tear his head off, but how was he supposed to take you seriously? Your red-rimmed eyes stared back at him in indignation, reminiscent of a small, feral kitten trying to defend itself from being bullied.

Ah, how cute.

He wanted to fuck you even harder now. 

His hands reached out to firmly grasp your waist, spreading your legs, before roughly pulling your pants and boxers down. Aside from the jersey you wore, you were completely exposed to the taller male in front of you.

A whimper left your throat as his fingers spread your tight entrance open. You bit down on your lips, ashamed at the sight.

“Christ… you’re so wet.” He muttered.

Nestled deep within was a vibrator that lewdly spat out clear fluids, dampening your shaking thighs. The loud buzzing became louder in your ears as he began to pull the toy out, slowly, inch by inch, clearly taking his time.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

"You f-fucking bastard, stop playing with me!"

A whine escaped your lips. You instinctively bucked your hips, trying desperately to escape from his clutches. His gaze darkened at your actions.

"Don't you think you're being too mouthy right now?" His voice was low and husky. You felt yourself stiffen when rough hands tightly gripped your hips, forcing your wiggling ass to stay still.

"You’re the one with something to lose here, not me. I could just leave you in this room, dripping like a bitch in heat for some poor random janitor to find for all I care." 

"Ngh! You wouldn't—"

"But knowing how much this ass of yours loves cock, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" 

In an instant, he slammed the toy back into the deepest part of your core. Your whole body violently writhed in a mix of pain and pleasure, as though a thousand volts of electricity had struck you.

"Aahhhhhh~!"

The male repeated his actions over and over again, each time, the vibrating toy would kiss your prostate, sending you over the edge. 

His grip was firm and unrelenting as he continued to pump away despite your weak pleas. Soon, you were close to your climax, your back arched up, and wet drool lewdly dripped down your chin. 

“I’m-mmf! I’m gonna..”

But before you could cum, he sadistically withdrew the vibrator from your hole, watching as it clenched around nothing, gaping and loose.

“Beg for it.”

He leaned forward, kissing your forehead sweetly as he watched hot tears continue to spill from your eyes. 

“Beg for me, little slut. Beg for my dick.” 

You were too drunk on pleasure to think coherently. So you did as he told you, letting go of whatever dignity you had left.

With shaky arms, you reached for him, wrapping them around his neck and mewled.

"Pleeeeaaase~" 

"Please what, whore? I don't know what you want." You cried out as your hard nipples were painfully pinched by his large hand.

"Hic-I... I want you to fuck me! Pleeaaase!" 

Thankfully, he decided to have mercy on you.

He pushed his thick cock inside your hole in one go, causing you to cry out. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Despite all the preparation you had gone through, the sudden intrusion was still too much to bear.

Your hole burned from the stretch. He continued to slam himself against your gummy walls, fucking you with a relentless pace. Each thrust forced a squeal out of your mouth, which only motivated him to pound you deeper. 

He was breeding you.

Wet squelching noises, mixed with your loud moans echoed throughout the dark room. It stunk with the scent of sex. A small puddle had gathered on the floor between the two of you, filthy and sticky. It didn't take long before the both of you found your release.

"Haah... Who knew that the star of the basketball team was secretly a filthy little slut? Instead of practicing with the rest of his team, he sneaks out to ride on cock all day long."

"Noo~ Ah! Th... That's not t-trueee~!" You protested in drunken slurs, clinging desperately onto his broad shoulders. 

With a final thrust, he released his seed deep inside you, causing you to spasm uncontrollably.

It felt so hot. As if you were filled to the brim with hot molten lava.

Cum leaked from the tip of your dick and spilled everywhere, coating your ruined sports jersey with a warm, gloppy mess. You lay there, unable to move an inch. 

He removed himself from you after a while, staring down at your body, flushed and covered with cum. It was truly a sight to behold.

Fucked stupid, tears dripping down your face swollen cheeks, skin littered with hickeys and bruises, hole gaping and leaking his cum. Nothing but cock on your mind.

Sigh, It was just too bad he didn’t have his phone with him at that moment. 

"Hey... the bell is about to ring soon," he said hoarsely, messily wiping away the sticky substance that clung to your skin with his palm, ignoring the way you trembled at the contact. "We need to clean up." 

Glancing around the room for a cloth or a towel, his eyes landed on the still-vibrating dildo that had been carelessly discarded on the floor. Insidious thoughts began to form in his head.

Perhaps next time, he should stick vibrators on your nipples and dick as well, or... maybe see how many you could fit in your ass like in that one porn video he watched. How well would you be able to endure it in front of others?

There were so many choices... He could feel his dick twitching again.

You two were going to have so much fun ♡.

✦✧✦✧

[A/N: I don't write smut that much so I'm still trying to practice. This one was really hard to sit through LMAO. Maybe one day I'll expand on this one but who knows. Haven't thought of a name for the ML yet. Anyways, poor Y/N!]

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied non/con, unhealthy relationships, forced codependence, and unbalanced power dynamics.

Wriothesley knows you don't belong with him.

He has since the day you arrived, all shrunken posture and wrung-out hands and doe eyes blown out so wide, he could've sworn it took you days just to blink. You're far from the first inmate to ever be unprepared for live in the fortress, but even the most petty of criminals usually have a hardened edge, a callous over their more obvious vulnerabilities. You're not a criminal, though - not really, not when you're surrounded by people with blood on their hands, and even your rougher corners are still velvet soft. It's almost impressive, honestly. If he didn't know better, if he thought there was any way it could possibly benefit you, he might think you've left yourself so exposed on purpose.

He knows he's not supposed to play favorites, but he can't help himself. You wouldn't last a day in his fortress if he didn't pull some strings, show some preference, get you a comfortably isolated position filing papers and making tea in his office, where he can keep you at a distance from the more blood-thirsty inmates. It'd be dangerous to let you bunk with someone who might be able to pick out that underlying shake in your voice, who might realize just how easily you'd crack under any amount of pressure, so he tells his guards to look the other way and gets you moved into one the fortress' few private quarters - your new room down the hall from his, just so he can make sure you're not being harassed outside of working hours. The standard-issue inmate coveralls don't exactly suit you, either, so he has a more fitting wardrobe commissioned; all delicate and silken, no harsh burlaps or coarse leathers. You protest, at first, claim you feel conflicted about accepting gifts from your superior, but you come around quickly. After Wriothesley confiscates your prior closet during a routine inspection, especially.

He does make you work for your privileges, of course, even if he can't say you've really earned as much as he does for you. Those fat, adorable tears drip down your cheeks as you struggle to take him down your fluttering throat, as your own drool and his arousal renders the ivory satin of your top transparent. You cry when you're pulled into his lap, too, sobbing into his coat as he rocks you gently on his cock, careful not to bruise your fragile skin and risk shattering one of the few delicate things he can afford to keep to himself, and you carry on for hours after he's had his fill, after you've fallen asleep still leaned against his chest - whimpering and sniffling, nursing your wounds without ever thinking to thank him for not drawing so much as a drop of blood. In his weakest moments, he pictures you somewhere else, somewhere kinder; wrapped in fleece in front of the hearth of a countryside cottage, or dressed in finery on a balcony of Palais Mermonia, where your softness wouldn't have to be so strictly preserved. You'd be happier on the surface. Fuck, if it's possible, you might even be softer on the surface, as tender as he tries to keep you while you're both trapped a thousand leagues underneath it.

You'd be softer, but you wouldn't be with him.

And he's willing to sacrifice just a little of your softness, if it means being the only one who gets to enjoy it.

[skeltnwrites]

Summary: You are there for Steve when he has to face his fear of needles. | 1.1k

TW: needles, medical anxiety, panic attacks, bf steve

A/N: this is based on true events 🥲 also you cannot convince me he doesn't have anxiety about this after rewatching that scene where he is literally stabbed in the neck with a needle

This is the first time Steve’s ever let you drive his car. Not because he doesn’t trust you with it but because he’s happy to be your chauffeur for as long as you let him. He’s always one to refuse when you offer, to grab the keys before you even think about it. He’s a gentleman at heart, even if part of him just likes to drive. But today is different. 

Steve’s practically buzzing in the passenger seat, snapping his foot against the floor mat like a rubberband and tapping his fingers where they are crossed over his arm. And he’s silent, which is weird because he’s always been the type of nervous to not be able to shut up. 

You wrap a hand around his knee, thumb caressing denim. He doesn’t acknowledge it like he normally would, gaze trained on the windshield. His eyes are glazed over like he’s somewhere else entirely. You have to call his name twice before he hums. 

“Wanna get ice cream after?” 

You barely catch his nod.

You’re grasping for anything to get him out of his head but he refuses to talk to you regardless of topic. He’s been more obliging during arguments. 

It’s not surprising that he’s anxious today, you expected it. He’s always been hesitant about doctors and only goes if he absolutely has to. But lately, this hesitation has transformed more into refusal, regardless of reason. This appointment specifically, a checkup and routine bloodwork, has been an ongoing battle with Steve for months. After his dad had a health scare, it was recommended Steve be seen to rule out anything preemptively. You’d given Steve every opportunity to schedule it himself like he claimed he would, but weeks turned into months of procrastination so you eventually phoned the doctor's office. 

Steve stalls in the parking lot. You’d turned the car off nearly ten minutes ago but he’s had to fix his hair twice, retie his shoes, and he even pretended to search for something in the glove box. You’ve been patient, but with only two minutes left until his appointment, you circle around to his side, gently guiding him out of the car. Before he can protest or claim he forgot something, you quickly lock the door behind him.

“Name?” The middle-aged woman at the front desk asks. 

“Steve,” his voice shakes so he clears his throat.  

She pops the wad of gum she was blowing, bemused at your boyfriend. “Steve…?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees.

You swipe a hand across his back, finishing, “Harrington. Steven Harrington.” 

She turns to her computer and begins typing lazily. 

“Oh,” he nods. 

She hands him a clipboard and pen, “Fill this out.”

You lean over the arm of his chair as he writes. His hands tremble around the pen and he stops to scribble out where he wrote his birthday incorrectly. You offer to do it for him but he declines. 

“Steven?” A nurse calls from the other side of the room where she’s propped a door open with her foot. You’re thankful for the short wait so Steve didn’t torture himself for long in the lobby. 

Steve doesn’t move so you squeeze the hand you’re holding, “Ready?”

He neglects to answer you but stands. You release his hand, collecting the clipboard and your things. Steve turns around, frowning and wide-eyed. “Are you coming?” 

“Yeah, baby. Do you want me to?”

He nods as you pass him his papers.

The nurse guides you down the hall, obtaining Steve’s height and weight before reaching a small room smelling of antiseptics. She takes his blood pressure, listens to his heartbeat, and jots down notes on the clipboard throughout. Steve’s breathing shallowly and staring at the floor as she works, focused on holding it together. 

When she leaves to grab the phlebotomist, Steve lets out a staggered exhale and whispers, “I really hate this.” His eyes join yours for the first time that morning, all warm and honeyed. 

You climb onto the paper sheet beside him, sealing his palm between both of yours. “I know, babe. You’re doing so good. Almost done.” 

He cranes over until his forehead meets your neck, eyelashes tickling your skin. You lean into him, planting a kiss on the nearest strip of skin. 

There’s a knock before the door swings open. A new face in the same scrubs. This one is all smiles, however, and chatting up a storm before she even sets her things down. 

Steve sprawls up slowly, eyeing the woman’s caddy as she rambles. 

She familiarizes herself with his chart before getting to work– washing her hands, ripping open the needle packaging, brushing a disinfectant wipe across his skin. It's all happening so fast. Steve’s breath picks up and his eyes dart away to the bland wall beside him. The nurse notices but doesn’t address his fear. She instead tries to distract him, asking him about how you guys met. 

A few words will find his tongue before he’s cut off by a series of gasps. He’s trying so hard to speak but his thoughts keep spilling out in a scrambled mess and that terrifies him even more. It terrifies you too– you’ve never seen him so scared. 

Steve gets a glimpse of the long needle near his arm and flinches away from her fingers. You’re pressing his face into the slope of your neck with your free hand because he keeps trying to watch what she’s doing.

“I need you to stay still, okay, hun? I’ll be so quick, I promise,” the nurse encourages. 

But as soon as her grip on his arm tightens, locking it against the table, he’s losing it. Fat tears are dribbling down his red cheeks and falling onto his lap where you’re clutching his hand. His chest convulses with shallow, uneven breaths, his muscles tensing under the strain of trying to keep his arm still. The needle slides in, and for a moment, his whole body stiffens, but she successfully finds the vein with a single poke and starts draining the blood into a vial.

Gradually, his breath starts to even out as he realizes the worst is behind him. Your fingers weave through his hairline and soothing words are whispered into his skin. A few final hiccups escape into your tear-stained collar.

“All done,” she’s patching him up with a cotton pad and tape and even you’re surprised at how quick it was. 

Steve tilts in your embrace to see the damage, unleashing a shuddered sigh. The nurse smiles at him and he offers a wobbly one back. 

Over a bowl of his favorite ice cream, he hesitantly opens up about his fear, recounting his traumatic experience with a Russian doctor. His words are thick with the weight of the painful memory and anxiety lingers through the tremble in his voice. No matter how many questions you have or how much you wish you could take away the experience, you know the best thing you can do is listen and praise him for his bravery.

[pin-k-ink]

your fics r amazing..... can i req for some hoshina dubcon something ahahahaha

......thanks.... no pressure... ✌️

company policy // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ dub-con, obsessive behavior, kinda sorta blackmail?,mentions of violence, injuries and threats, breeding kink, fingering, squirting, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of lactation and pregnancy, dirty talk, male masturbation, virginity loss

wc ⇢ 4.2k

a/n: i finally remembered that this man had a kansai dialect. but i kept giggling while writing his dialogues because i kept hearing him saying it in a southern accent. almost turned this into a non-con too

"Sleep well, my lil' warrior..."

Soshiro's fingers hovered over the glass, aching to reach through and brush aside the unruly strands of hair splayed across your face. To think, after all these months of silent admiration, of doing whatever it took to keep you off the battlefield, here you were - bandaged and bedridden because of his actions.

A pang of guilt twisted in his gut, quickly smothered by the relief of knowing you were alive, recuperating safely away from harm's reach. He'd made the tough call, purposefully restricting your combat suit's capabilities before the mission so you’d be forced to take it easy. Soshiro was well aware how you'd rail against such coddling...if you ever discovered the truth.

But that was a chance he was willing to take. Seeing your battered form encased in the med bay's healing pod, he knew he'd made the right call. He'd gladly endure your fury if it meant protecting you, his secret obsession.

A rueful chuckle slipped past Soshiro's lips as his gaze drank in your peaceful features. "Who'd have thought I’d fall so damned hard for a feisty recruit I ain't never properly met?"

His fingers curled against the cool glass longingly. "One day, darlin'..." he murmured, the depth of his affections laying unspoken. "One day, you'll understand why I gotta do this."

With a regretful sigh, Soshiro tore himself away from the window and your oblivious, slumbering form. But he knew he'd return soon, compelled as always by the inexplicable hold you had over his heart.

Soshiro nursed his cup of coffee, gaze fixated across the bustling room to where you sat amongst a group of fellow recruits. Even from this distance, he could make out the weariness weighing on your features after yesterday's intense healing session.

"Keep on pushin' through, darlin'," he murmured under his breath. "That fightin' spirit of yours is one helluva turn-on."

His eyes shamelessly trailed over the curves of your face, the delicate line of your jaw, the fullness of your lips as you laughed at something your friend said. Soshiro's chest clenched with a heated yearning, imagining what it might feel like to capture those plush lips with his own. To finally sate the burning curiosity about how you tasted, how you'd melt into his embrace.

A gruff noise rumbled up from his throat. As tantalizing as such fantasies were, he knew pursuing anything more than distant admiration would only lead to your ruin. The life of a Defense Force officer was no place for fragile things like romance.

No, his duty was to shield you from the harsh realities of battle - by any means necessary. Even if that meant ruthlessly exploiting your weaknesses during training to have you discharged from active duty. The ache of losing your radiant presence would be preferable to watching you be torn apart by vicious kaiju.

Soshiro's grip tightened around his mug as you rose, tray fully empty, and began weaving through the tables towards the exit. Soon you'd report for training, ignorant of the torturous "learning experience" he had meticulously planned.

"Forgive me, darlin'," he rasped, allowing himself one final lingering look before you disappeared from sight. "But a couple bruises now are better than losin' ya for good later on..."

Soshiro's jaw clenched as he watched you struggle valiantly against the onslaught of small yoju, desperately dodging and firing with the dampened capabilities he'd restricted your combat suit to. A flicker of pride sparked in his chest at your tenacity, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

But that flicker was quickly extinguished as the timer hit zero, klaxons blaring to signal your failure to neutralize the targets in time. With a few taps, Soshiro locked the yoju away, leaving you panting and sweat-drenched in the center of the training ground.

"Not good enough," he barked out, the harsh edge to his drawl making the words cut deeper than intended. "Everyone else, dismiss'd! [L/N], stay put - we need to have a lil' talk."

You froze at his order, eyes widening slightly at the uncharacteristic sternness emanating from the vice-captain. As the other recruits filed out, he could practically feel the nervous tension rolling off you in waves.

Once the room was empty save for the two of you, Soshiro stalked forward, letting his presence loom over your smaller frame. "Just what in the hell was that pathetic display, hmm?" he growled lowly. "I expected better from someone of your alleged skills."

"V-Vice Captain Hoshina, I...I gave it everything I had," you stammered meekly, unable to meet his suddenly intense gaze. "The yoju were just too much, especially when something is wrong with my suit."

A derisive snort escaped him at your excuse. Of course the weak yoju were far beyond your temporarily reduced capabilities - all to drive home this harsh lesson. "And d'you think the kaiju'll take it easy on ya when we're out in the field?"

Unconsciously, he stepped even closer, drinking in the fearful sheen glistening in your eyes, the tantalizing scent of your exertion surrounding him. "This is the reality you'd face if you can't hack it, [L/N]. A harsh, brutal reality that will slaughter the weak without hesitation."

Soshiro's chest heaved with each ragged breath, barely restraining the urge to reach out and grab you, to shake some sense into you before you got yourself killed with this stubborn insistence on fighting. But he held himself rigidly in check, letting the heat of his words instead try to drive you away from this deadly path.

"I suggest you get your act together," he bit out grufly. "Before these small kaiju ain't enough to prepare ya for what's comin'..."

As Soshiro turned to stalk away, your uncharacteristically defiant voice rang out behind him.

"With all due respect, vice-captain, I don't think the training was fair today." You straightened your shoulders, holding his narrowed gaze. "I train just as hard as anyone, but those yoju were far too overpowered for a standard exercise."

A low, rumbling chuckle reverberated up from Soshiro's chest as he slowly turned to face you once more. In an instant, the mocking grin slipped from his lips, replaced with a predatory smirk that made your breath catch.

"Oh? And what would a silly lil' thing like you know about 'fair', hmm?" He closed the distance between you with heavy, deliberate steps, eyes roaming insolently over your sweat-sheened form. "All yer meant to know is how to follow orders without that pretty lil' mouth flappin' so much."

Soshiro loomed over you, his powerful frame radiating scorching waves of dominance that had your knees quaking. You shrank back reflexively, but not nearly far enough to evade his sudden grip on your arm, wrenching you flush against his rock-hard body.

"P-Please, vice-captain..." you squeaked out, feeling utterly dwarfed by his commanding presence, the earthy musk of his body surrounding you.

"Please what, [L/N]?" he purred darkly, warm breath fanning across your face and sending a shiver down your spine. "Use yer words carefully now...unless you'd prefer I just shut those pretty lips up for good."

His free hand drifted up, calloused fingertips grazing your jaw teasingly before thumbing at your trembling lower lip. The urge to simply seize your mouth with his, to ravage that insolent pout into sweet submission nearly overwhelmed Soshiro.

A harsh groan rumbled up from deep within him as your bodies molded instinctively closer. Feeling the tantalizingly soft curves of your form against his rapidly hardening cock proved too exquisite a temptation. With a muttered oath, he abruptly released you, putting distance between your intoxicating heat and his tenuous restraint.

"Don't flatter yerself, [L/N]," Soshiro bit out roughly, fighting to temper the raw hunger blazing through his veins. "Startin' to think my standards for this Division were set too damned low if you made the cut..."

He paced the confines of his room like a caged animal, calloused fingers raking agitatedly through his tousled hair. The memory of your trembling form pressed flush against him, deliciously pliant and alluring, had awakened a white-hot need that could not be ignored.

"Goddamn stubborn woman..." Soshiro growled under his ragged breaths, futilely trying to banish the images of you whimpering beneath his towering frame, rosy lips parted so enticingly. With a guttural snarl, he flung himself onto his bed, fingers already working furiously to free his painfully strained cock.

There was only one way to douse this all-consuming burn you'd stoked within him. As Soshiro's rough palm wrapped around his throbbing length, he allowed himself to fully surrender to the forbidden fantasy of pinning you beneath him. To hear your gasps and mewls as he roughly spread those thighs and laid claim to your tight, quivering pussy...

A punched-out groan tore from Soshiro's lips as he stroked his cock with fevered urgency, sweat beading along his brow and muscles straining against the tide of pleasure relentlessly cresting over him. He craved nothing more than to bury himself to the hilt in your velvety cunt, to mark and rut you into sweet, whimpering submission until you screamed his name.

With a hoarse roar, Soshiro's release finally scorched through his veins, painting his chest with thick ropes of creamy cum. Harsh pants wracked his heaving frame as he caught his breath, the echo of your imagined cries still ringing blissfully in his ears.

"Hah...maybe that'll...clear my head for a lil' while," he rasped out, slowly coming down from his high. "Though knowin' you...darlin', it won't be nearly enough..."

Soshiro's boots pounded down the med bay corridor, jaw clenched so tightly it creaked. He didn't even bother trying to mask the frustration rolling off him in waves - not after hearing you'd gotten injured out there...again.

This was exactly why he'd fought so hard to get you discharged from active duty! How many more of these terrifying hospital visits could his heart withstand before it gave out from the stress?

Without ceremony, he barged through the door to your recovery room, cold fury simmering in his piercing gaze as he took in your banged up form. You startled awake at the commotion, eyes widening upon recognizing your intimidating visitor.

"V-Vice Captain Hoshina! I...what are you doing here?" you squeaked out, frantically trying to pull your sheets up to preserve some sense of modesty before your imposing superior.

Soshiro felt his bravado falter for just a moment at the naked surprise and confusion shining in your eyes. Of course you had no idea about the lengths he'd gone to in secret - tampering with your gear, ruthlessly pushing you past your limits, all in hopes of forcing you from the dangers of active duty. To you, he was likely just another high-ranking officer, his motivations as enigmatic as his exterior.

But that careful illusion shattered the moment he drank in your form. A familiar feeling of cold dread and gut-wrenching fear lanced through Soshiro's core, quickly transmuting into an explosive surge of heated frustration. How many more times could he endure the torment of seeing you blown back through those med bay doors, hovering on the edge of death's embrace?

"What am I doin' here?" he growled out, taking an aggressive step towards your bed until his looming frame cast you in shadow. "I'm here cuz you constantly insist on putting yourself in harm's way with this bullheaded defense force crusade of yours!"

Your lips parted, clearly wanting to protest, but Soshiro barreled forward before you could unleash whatever platitude about duty and sacrifice. "Don't even try feeding me that self-righteous drivel about 'protectin' the people' or any other heroic claptrap. You're just a damned adrenaline junkie who can't seem to resist the urge to throw herself into mortal peril at every possible turn!"

He could feel his ragged breaths sawing in and out, pupils blown wide with scarcely restrained emotion as he drank in the fearful flutter of your lashes, the unconscious nibble of your plush lower lip. In that moment of searing intensity, a shocking new idea blazed to life in Soshiro's mind - one that could potentially solve this agonizing conundrum once and for all.

After all, the Defense Force had strict policies about pregnant recruits being prohibited from active combat...

A cruel, predatory smirk slowly curved Soshiro's lips as he leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of your prone form until his face was mere inches from yours. "Tell me, [L/N]..." he purred in a low, sinful timbre, unable to resist trailing the tip of his nose along the heated line of your jaw. "How badly d'you wanna stay part of the Defense Force? Enough to take...more permanent measures to keep that lil' body of yours off the battlefield for good?"

Soshiro's calloused knuckles grazed your flushed cheek as he cupped your jaw firmly, forcing you to meet his smoldering gaze. "I asked you a question, [L/N]. Are you that damned set on keepin' your spot with the Third Division? Enough to do whatever it takes to make sure that sweet lil' body of yours stays outta harm's way for good?"

You tried to protest, to put space between yourself and the scorching intensity radiating off his towering frame. But Soshiro's iron grip held you immobile, thumb digging possessively into the softness of your lower lip as his obsidian eyes bored straight through you.

"I-I don't under—" Your words tumbled away into a pathetic whimper as he leaned in impossibly closer, lips brushing the sensitive shell of your ear.

"Shhh..." he hushed you with a deep rumble. "I'm done suggestin', darlin'. From now on, it's my way or no way at all."

The broad expanse of his chest pressed against you, pinning you to the cot as his hand slid up to tangle almost painfully in your hair. You were utterly surrounded by the woody, earthy scent of him, making your head spin deliriously.

"Pretty soon, that cute lil' belly is gonna be all nice and round," Soshiro murmured, voice gone low and molten with the filthy promise laced through each word. "Then you won't be allowed anywhere near the battlefield - not while you're carryin' my baby inside you."

The way your eyes blew wide, teeth worrying that plush lower lip sent a possessive surge of heat lancing through him. Soshiro chuckled darkly, relishing your innocence for just a moment more before shattering it entirely.

"Ain't no other way to guarantee your safety besides stuffin' that tight pussy full of my hot seed, darlin'..." With an animalistic growl, he slanted his mouth over yours in a demanding, claiming kiss.

His calloused palm roamed boldly down the dip of your waist, over the flare of your hip until finally cupping your thigh and hitching your leg up to bracket his hips at the most intimate angle.

You gasped against the searing onslaught of his questing tongue, offering the perfect opportunity for Soshiro to truly plunder the warm haven of your mouth as he rolled his hips meaningfully against you. His engorged length dragged tortuously against your clothed cunt, sending delicious jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"See, now?" he murmured breathlessly against your bruised lips. "Your lil' body is already beggin' me to fill you up, darlin'...and I ain't a man who can deny a lady her desires."

With a wicked chuckle, Soshiro's large hands tugged at your infirmary gown, practically ripping the garment apart and baring you completely to his ravenous gaze. Your protests melted away at the heat in his expression, the sheer, undeniable hunger for you that blazed from his blackened pupils.

"You're a goddamned vision, you know that?" Soshiro growled, gaze drinking in every inch of newly exposed flesh. He licked his lips as he palmed the full curve of your breasts, relishing the breathy mewls spilling from your lips at the contact.

"I can't wait to see these all nice and heavy, filled up with milk just for me..." He leaned down, capturing one peaked nipple between his lips and suckling deeply, reveling in the sweet gasps falling from your lips.

"Ahh...s-stop, we can't..." Your fingers tangled in his hair, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, deeper. Soshiro chuckled darkly, tongue swirling a tantalizing pattern around your areola before releasing the pebbled bud with a lewd pop.

"You can't deny it, darlin'..." His fingers trailed possessively over your hip, dipping down between your thighs to tease your slick folds. "Not when your body's already beggin' me to breed this sweet pussy full, nice and proper."

Before you could form a coherent response, Soshiro's thick digits plunged into your soaked cunt, a throaty moan tumbling past his lips at how perfectly you swallowed his fingers.

"Hah...damn, darlin'...you're so wet and tight around my fingers already," he rasped out, pumping and curling the digits at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to drive you wild. "Bet you'll feel even better when I'm stuffin' my fat cock inside ya."

"Mmmh...V-Vice captain..." Your head lolled back, lost in the sensation of his skilled fingers filling and stretching your needy pussy. Soshiro's thumb began working your clit in teasing circles, bringing you dangerously close to the edge as he nipped and kissed his way down the column of your throat.

"Don't tell me you've already forgotten my name, darlin'," he groaned lowly, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the heated juncture where your neck met shoulder. "Not after I've worked so hard to keep you alive this long."

Your brows furrowed at his words, but before you could fully grasp the meaning, his fingers hooked up into your sweet spot, wrenching a keening moan from your lips. Soshiro drank in your blissed-out expression, the way your cheeks flushed so pretty, how your swollen, spit-slick lips parted on each desperate gasp and cry.

"Fuck, I can't wait another second..." he muttered, fingers slipping free of your clenching heat. You barely had time to protest the loss before Soshiro's calloused palms grasped your hips, easily maneuvering you onto your stomach.

A surprised squeak spilled from your lips, but before you could voice any objections, Soshiro's warm breath was fanning across your shoulder, a strong hand grabbing you by the back of your neck and forcing you down against the pillow.

"Keep that ass nice and raised for me, darlin'," he coaxed darkly, fingers teasing the soft globes of your rear, dipping into the slick pooling between your thighs. "Gotta make sure I get as deep as possible to really knock you up, after all."

"Wait, please..." you whimpered, trying and failing to twist around and catch a glimpse of him. The head of Soshiro's throbbing cock nudged at your dripping folds, the blunt pressure making you mewl. "I-It's my first time, Soshiro...please be gentle!"

A pleased rumble reverberated through him, hearing his name spill so sweetly from your lips. His hand drifted from the back of your neck, trailing tenderly along the elegant curve of your spine.

"Ain't that just adorable, darlin'," Soshiro murmured, voice gone unbearably fond. "You think I could be rough with somethin' this sweet and precious?"

Without warning, his grip tightened on your hip, jerking you back against him in one smooth thrust. You cried out at the sudden invasion, his thick cock bottoming out in your needy pussy with a filthy squelch.

"Hah...shit, yer even tighter than I imagined," he hissed, the overwhelming heat of your velvety cunt nearly bringing him to his knees. He had to force himself to hold still, to give your trembling body time to adjust to his sizable girth.

"M-Move..." The hoarse plea slipped out before you could stop yourself, feeling so incredibly full, deliciously stretched by the man whose presence both frustrated and intrigued you.

"So damned bossy," Soshiro muttered, but a smirk tugged at his lips nonetheless. His grip shifted from your neck to tangle in your hair, forcing your spine into a delicious arch as he drew his hips back before snapping them forward again.

"Ahh! S-Soshiro, that's—!" Your words dissolved into a litany of whimpers and moans as he began pounding into your quivering cunt, setting a brutal, punishing pace that had the cot beneath you creaking ominously.

"Oh, so this is what it takes to shut you up?" he growled lowly, leaning forward until his sculpted torso pressed flush against your arched back. His other arm wrapped around you, fingers splayed over your stomach to feel the impact of his thrusts as his cock bottomed out inside you.

"God, darlin', look at how well you're taking me," Soshiro crooned in your ear, pressing a heated kiss to the tender spot just behind it. "Your cute little pussy is squeezin' me so nice and tight, practically beggin' for my hot cum."

The filthy words spilled past his lips without a second thought, too focused on chasing the tight heat of your cunt. His pace only increased, the wet slap of skin against skin and your mewls of ecstasy echoing through the room.

"Fuck, you're perfect, you know that?" His grip in your hair relaxed, allowing him to cup your jaw and force you into a breathless, passionate kiss. The taste of him, the sheer dominance of his embrace had you melting, cunt clenching tightly around his pulsing length.

"Mmph...y-you can't, not inside...!" Your protest was weak, half-hearted at best, drowned out by the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you. Soshiro's tongue traced the seam of your lips, the heady scent of him flooding your senses.

"Oh, I'm definitely cummin' inside," he rasped out, a dark, animalistic glint in his eyes as he broke the kiss, his hips pistoning at a frenetic pace. "Gonna stuff that sweet pussy full and then some, 'til it's dripping with my seed, and you'll be carryin' my baby inside ya."

"Ngh, ahh! Soshiro, I-I'm—!" Your body shuddered against him, a scream of his name tearing from your lips as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in bliss. Soshiro's hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your cries as he rutted his hips forward once, twice more before burying his cock to the hilt and unleashing his release with a strangled roar.

Hot ropes of cum splattered your inner walls, his hips bucking reflexively with each spurt as he emptied his balls. Soshiro's chest heaved with exertion, the haze of lust slowly dissipating as he drank in the sight of you pinned beneath him, his seed spilling out from around his cock, trickling down the curve of your ass and coating your thighs.

"My babygirl, my good little warrior," he murmured, brushing a kiss over the back of your neck before reluctantly withdrawing his softening cock. You whimpered at the loss, body collapsing in a boneless heap, too spent to resist as Soshiro carefully flipped you onto your back and settled between your legs again.

"Look at you, darlin'," he purred, calloused fingertips ghosting up the inside of your thigh and gathering the mixture of fluids seeping out of your thoroughly claimed cunt. Soshiro's gaze darkened as he spread your thighs wide, watching his cum leak from your fluttering hole, staining the sheets beneath you.

"Hah, fuck...that's a beautiful sight, right there." He gathered up the mess, pressing two thick digits back into your cunt, the wet squelch nearly obscene in the quiet room. Soshiro's dark gaze bore into yours, smoldering with possessiveness as he leaned over your prone form, lips grazing your ear. "But this ain't enough, not even close. Gotta make sure I get my good girl nice and pregnant..."

You moaned, the sound muffled as his lips slanted over yours in a searing, demanding kiss, tongue plundering the depths of your mouth while his fingers pumped steadily. Soshiro's palm ground against your hypersensitive clit, drawing a sharp cry from you as he continued the ruthless, steady assault on your spent cunt.

"Mmph, Soshiro, please...!" you whimpered, hands scrabbling uselessly at his muscled back as he curled his fingers and pressed them relentlessly against your sweet spot. Your body jerked, cunt clenching around his thick digits in a desperate attempt to stave off the overstimulation.

"I know, darlin'," he murmured huskily, nipping along the column of your throat. "Just one more, then I'll let you rest, alright?"

The sensations were so overwhelming, his fingers buried knuckle-deep in your cum-slicked pussy, his warm lips and tongue trailing fire across your sensitive skin. Your toes curled, body writhing beneath his insistent ministrations, every muscle tensing, a scream caught in your throat...

"That's it, come for me, babygirl..."

His teeth sunk into the delicate juncture of your neck and shoulder, sending a bolt of white-hot pleasure surging through you. The tension within you finally snapped, a wave of bliss crashing over you as you squirted helplessly around his fingers, drenching the sheets with a fresh flood of your combined release.

Your chest heaved with exertion, unable to even muster a noise of complaint as Soshiro withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and gaping, his seed slowly trickling from your puffy lips. But you didn't have the energy to fight him as he slowly began to slip his cock back into your oversensitive cunt, murmuring praises against the shell of your ear.

"Shhh, I know, darlin'...such a good girl, makin' me proud." A strangled groan spilled past his lips as he bottomed out inside you, the delicious squeeze of your pussy nearly driving him to the edge. But Soshiro forced himself to keep still, letting your quivering walls adjust to his length before beginning a slow, gentle rhythm.

"Gotta make sure I get a few loads nice and deep," he grunted, relishing the way your walls gripped him like a vise. "Get you nice and pregnant so I won't have to worry about my pretty girl anymore..."

[moongreenlight]

I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.

Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻

ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.

Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.

If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.

He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.

It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.

He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.

So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.

And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.

The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.

You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.

He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.

He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.

Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.

He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.

The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.

Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.

But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.

He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.

Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.

Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.

It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.

Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.

And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.

Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.

Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.

He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.

The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.

But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.

“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”

Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.

“‘Course.”

Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.

Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.

“How long you been keepin’ this in?”

“Which bit.”

His response was flat.

“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”

Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.

“Don’t push it.”

Simon bit back.

“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”

“Johnny.”

“Looks ready’ta pop.”

A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.

“Few months.”

They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.

“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”

He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.

“Hope not.”

Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.

“Boy o’ girl?”

This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.

“Girls.”

[vigilante-3073]

Blue Or Pink?

James Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: House makes some observations about Doctor Y/N L/N. He is absolutely certain that she is pregnant with Wilson's child, but something seems amiss.

TW: Pregnancy, mentions of weight gain/breast size/nausea and vomiting/miscarriage, medical diagnosis.

House stood outside the Pediatric unit, watching Doctor L/N-Wilson through the window as she spoke with the parents of a patient. She had been married to Wilson for almost two years and things had been stable.

Normal.

Predictable.

But House began to notice small changes in Doctor L/N-Wilson. At first they seemed insignificant, but then the little nothings turned into big somethings.

First it was the tiredness, she'd whine about being exhausted before resting her head on Wilson's shoulder in the cafeteria. It was nothing special, just an overworked Pediatrician who gave everything to her patients.

Secondly, House noticed a change in how she responded to smells. She refused to kiss Wilson after he drank his morning coffee, the smell making her stomach churn. It could have been an anomaly, but then he changed his cologne. Wilson liked his cologne and had used the same one for as long as House had known him. A new cologne could have been gifted to him, but Wilson wouldn't have used a different scent without some other motivation. It seemed obvious to House that L/N's smell-associated nausea had caused the switch.

Thirdly, it was how emotional she had become. L/N had always been an emotional lightweight with a heart of gold, but House could see a difference in her. She didn't seek out comfort from Wilson on a routine basis, only when she had lost someone or experienced an emotionally taxing case. Then he noticed her coming and going from his best friend's office with red, watery eyes at least once a week. Her heightened emotional state could be due to the loss of some boring little rugrat who drew her a picture of a butterfly once, but it seemed more intense than that.

Fourth thing he noticed was the vomiting, she was very discreet about sneaking away to upchuk in the hospital bathroom, but not discreet enough to escape his watchful eye. She was constantly chewing mint gum or sucking on breath mints while carrying a toothbrush in the pocket of her lab coat.

Fifth thing was an increase in cup size and a sudden progressive weight gain. It wasn't anything excessive, but it was enough to have her clothing fit more snugly before she gave up and bought new clothes.

Sixth was the appointment. Wilson and L/N snuck away to an "early lunch" after talking to Cuddy. They were both Department heads and didn't need to speak to the Dean of Medicine before stepping out for an hour.

The anomalies were piling up into a rather perfect list of symptoms.

Chase made his way over to House, frowning as he stared through the glass, "What are you looking at?" Chase asked.

"Doctor L/N-Wilson," House stated.

His eyes followed her as she separated from the parents, walking over to the nursing station.

"Why?" Chase asked uncertainly.

"She has a parasite," House said, Chase's head snapped in his boss' direction.

"What? How do you know?" Chase questioned, turning to look at her again.

"I just know. It would take too long to explain," House said, turning and walking off.

...

Wilson and L/N sat on the couch in their apartment, her back was leaned against his side and her legs were stretched out across the couch cushions. Wilson's arm was wrapped around her as he flipped through the channels on the television. L/N stared down at her book, turning the page before closing her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"You alright?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Tired," She sighed.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Wilson questioned.

"No, I'll be okay. I like spending time with you," L/N said, eyes fluttering open.

Wilson smiled, pressing a kiss to her head as she returned to her book. He turned his head towards the television before someone knocked at the door.

L/N sat up, setting her book down on the cushion beside her.

"I'll get it," Wilson said, setting the remote down and making his way over to the door.

He opened the door, sighing when he saw House standing on his doorstep.

"Your wife has a parasite," House stated.

"Thank you so much for letting us know. We'll have her admitted for treatment in the morning," Wilson said sarcastically, "Goodnight, House," Wilson stated, moving to close the door.

House stuck his foot in the doorway, blocking the door from closing before pushing his way into their apartment.

"House, what are you doing here?" L/N asked.

"You have a parasite, Doctor L/N-Wilson," He said.

"No, I don't. Go home, House," She said, standing up from the couch and moving to step past him.

"It has arms and legs. It looks adorable in a onesie. Chromosomes of XX or XY with eyes like mommy and glorious hair like daddy. Lucky bugger will even get two Christmases when you two separate," House said.

"We're not separating," Wilson snapped.

"That's besides the point," House said, returning his attention to L/N, "Oh, and I stumbled across this," House said, holding up a document displaying a positive pregnancy blood test result.

"How did you-" She started, snatching the paper from his hand, "Did you break into my office? And my desk?" L/N questioned incredulously.

"I should be saying mazel tov. Congratulations on the little rugrat," House said.

L/N smacked him in the arm, "You're an ass," She snapped, folding up the paper.

"I thought you'd be screaming it from the rooftops," House said.

"Forgive me for being cautious," She huffed, sitting back down on the couch.

"You're almost four months along. Way past the danger zone for early miscarriage," House stated, eyes flickering over her.

House looked up at Wilson, he shook his head, silently pleading with his friend not to continue.

"You've lost a pregnancy before," House said.

"House-" "Three," L/N replied, looking up at him.

"House, get out," Wilson said.

"He was going to find out at some point, James. I'm surprised he didn't steal my medical records already," L/N said.

"Another hospital, too much work," House shrugged.

"Can you grab a copy of the sonogram?" She asked, Wilson nodded, making his way down the hallway before returning with a photograph.

He held it out to House, he took the photo and stared down at it, "The fetus has your nose," House said, "Mind if I keep this?" He asked.

"Sure," L/N nodded, leaning back against the couch.

"Why do you- You know what? Nevermind," Wilson sighed, sitting down beside L/N and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I'll see myself out. Congratulations on the kid," House said, making his way over to the door and out of their apartment.

...

House sat at his desk, staring down at the sonogram as his team discussed their most recent case. House tilted his head, thumb brushing over a darkened area on the scan.

"House?" Cameron questioned loudly.

He looked up to find Chase, Cameron and Foreman staring at him expectantly. House turned the sonogram photo and held it up for the team to see, "New case. Tell me what's wrong with this picture," He said.

Cameron huffed, "We need to solve our first case before moving on to something else. We should do a transesophageal echo to rule out a blood clot and to-" "Sure, but first, tell me what's wrong with this picture," House repeated.

Chase squinted, leaning in closer to view the sonogram, "Looks fine to me. Roughly four months along, I'd say," Chase shrugged, straightening back up.

"Wrong, thanks for playing. You two," House said, looking up at Foreman and Cameron.

Cameron shook her head before letting out a defeated sigh, she leaned in and scanned the sonogram silently.

"The fetus is undersized for gestational age. Can we go now?" Foreman asked.

"Nope. Try again," House said.

"There's a mass," Cameron said softly, taking the sonogram from House's hand.

"Yeah, it's called a baby," Chase muttered.

"No, there's a membrane around it," She said, stepping over to the x-ray view box and holding it up to the light.

House stood from his chair, staring at the sonogram over her shoulder. He took the photograph from her hand, "Do the echo," House said, grabbing his cane and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Cameron asked.

"To locate a pregnant woman," House stated.

...

L/N made her way across the lobby towards the clinic, "Y/N," Wilson called. She turned to face him, "Did House page you?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah, did he page you too?" L/N questioned.

"This can't be anything good," Wilson muttered, hand resting on the small of her back as they entered the clinic.

They made their way over to the exam room House had paged them to.

L/N knocked before opening the door, she and her husband stepped into the exam room, "What do you need, House?" L/N asked.

"You. Hop up on the table," House instructed, pulling over the portable ultrasound machine.

"House, she already has an obstetrician," Wilson said.

"Well, your obstetrician is an idiot," House said, turning on the ultrasound machine.

"I'm going back to work," L/N sighed, stepping over to the door.

"I saw something in your sonogram," House stated.

L/N hesitated, "What was it?" She asked.

"I have an idea, but I need to get a look at the thing," House said, gesturing to the exam table.

L/N looked over at Wilson before reluctantly getting up on the table and laying back. Wilson moved over to her side as she pulled up her blouse.

House squeezed some gel onto her belly before moving the wand across her skin. The soft thump of their baby's heartbeat filled the room as House stared up at the screen.

"Your baby has a roommate... Sneaky little sucker that leaves its dishes in the sink and trashes the place so they lose the security deposit," House said, typing on the keyboard.

"What is it?" Wilson asked, holding onto her hand tightly.

House turned the screen towards them, "A cyst," He said.

"It's solid," Wilson said softly, stomach dropping as he saw the possibly cancerous mass growing in his wife's belly. The oncologist within him already formulating treatment plans and survival rates.

"Sometimes. This week it's solid, two weeks ago it was liquid," House said, holding up the previous sonogram.

"I have cancer?" L/N mumbled shakily, eyes glossing over with tears as she looked up at Wilson.

"Nope, think hairy with a nasty bite," House said.

"A dermoid cyst?" L/N questioned.

"Bingo," House said, "Your baby is small for gestational age, but your fundal height is bang on. Someone else is taking up space," House said.

"Your miscarriages hid the symptoms and the cyst is likely to create more problems as it continues to grow. I scheduled you for a laproscopic removal tomorrow evening and notified your idiotic OB," House continued, putting down the ultrasound wand.

He held up a tissue, allowing L/N to wipe the gel from her stomach. She pulled down her blouse and sat up on the exam table.

"I still want to test your blood for cancer markers, but the chances of a dermoid cyst being cancerous are slim to none," House said, standing from his stool and gathering supplies.

"Your hubby can do all the testing," House said.

He tied the tourniquet around her arm and drew a few vials of blood to test. Wilson stood close to her side, his hand resting against her back reassuringly as they processed the information.

"Did the cyst cause my miscarriages?" She asked softly.

House shrugged, "Probably... The ugly thing is taking up all the beachfront property and keeping it from possible long-term residents. Bad for business, especially if business involves pregnancy," House said.

L/N huffed a laugh, leaning into Wilson's chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. Wilson pressed a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping his arm around her waist securely.

"The baby is going to be okay," Wilson assured, L/N nodded.

"I'll leave you two to do whatever married people do," House said, grabbing the vials of blood and his cane.

"House, wait," L/N said, pulling away from Wilson. She hopped off the table and stepped over to House.

He stiffened as she hugged him before slowly wrapping his arms around her, "Thank you," She said softly.

"You're welcome," House replied.

[beautifulsenpai]

I have a request if you don’t mind doing it!

Lovestruck Endeavor x Recovery Girl’s Grandson

Endeavor is deeply in love with Recovery Girl’s grandson that works with her in U.A, a quirk that is related to her, and has…some man tits. Endeavor would give the male reader presents like red roses with heart balloons attached to them, expensive jewelry and would bring male reader their favorite food every time he visits male reader in the nurse’s office to show his love for him. Male reader doesn’t feel the same way for some reasons, the age gap is a reason, Endeavor is 45 and male reader is 20 but male reader doesn’t want to hurt his feelings, so he has to go along with it.

You could add some parts as well, maybe non-con?

✧˚ ༘ ⋆HIS NURSE | LOVESTRUCK ENJI TODOROKI

endeavor has a pretty big crush on recovery girl’s cute young grandson.

tw/cw. male reader, age gap, dubious consent kissing and groping, reader is 20 in this fic, enji being a creep

senpai’s note. wanna request a fic, or headcanon? look at my requesting rules before requesting darling. sorry for taking a long break. rules/requesting, masterlists

(name) sighed as he plopped down onto the recovery girl’s office chair that he had taken over for the time being. recovery girl was taking a long-needed break, and (name) took the position to fill for her, since both of them have the same quirk. the job was going fine, even sometimes fun.

taking care of injured or sick students was a highlight of his day, it felt nice to see the kids get better, and it’s funny how flustered they can get when (name) has to give them a kiss to treat their wounds. it was truly nice until he met endeavor, the current number-one pro hero.

(name) had bumped into endeavor in a hallway in U.A. endeavor was truly memorized from his presence, from how (name’s) pouty lips were pink and plumped that looked so kissable to his nurse uniform that hugged his waist nicely, showing off his curves. neither of them didn’t say anything, (name) felt too awkward while endeavor was busy admiring his beauty.

after that encounter, endeavor couldn’t keep his eyes off (name) and wouldn’t leave him alone. every opportunity that endeavor had, he would visit (name) in the nurse’s office. he would bring him lunch, yummy desserts, or even luxury gifts. this surprised (name), especially when did endeavor to find out that he had a sweet tooth. endeavor even allowed him to address him by his first name.

later on, (name) figured out that the scary man had a crush on him, endeavor never told him that so he put the pieces together and the result is endeavor having a crush on him. (name) felt flattered, but he didn’t feel like it wouldn’t work. first of all, he thought that endeavor was a married man. second of all, (name) was still a young adult while endeavor was in his late middle age. lastly, he just felt uneasy around the man.

but, the kind-hearted man he was, he continued to let endeavor to do as he pleased, even if he had to suffer. back to the present, (name) rocked the chair side to side with a frown plastered on his face. the other pro heroes/teachers invited the nurse to have lunch with them since they’ve gotten along great for the past week.

that was a nice gesture, but he sadly declined. he didn’t want to see or interact with endeavor. endeavor would’ve most likely joined his comrades since he thought (name) would be there. he kept coming up with excuses for why he couldn’t join his new friends, and it was getting tiring. some were true, and some were lies.

(name) sighed once again as he looked towards his desk, eyeing the bouquet of roses lying there that endeavor purchased for him when (name) arrived in the morning. he recalled how endeavor told him that “the roses are as gorgeous as him”. the flattery and the gift did make his cheeks go red. (name) hummed, he should remind himself later to get a flower pot with water for the roses.

unexpectedly, there was a sudden knock on the door. (name) attention turned from the flowers to the door. was it a student? he continued to observe the door until he (name) finally responded, “come in”. he wouldn’t have spoken if he had known who was behind that door. the wooden door slid open slowly to reveal endeavor with a slight blush on his cheeks, while one of his hands was occupied with something.

he was wearing his hero attire, but the beard and mustache that were made of fire were missing, showing off his massive scar on his face. (name’s) eyes slightly widen as well as his mouth. he quickly stood up, accidentally knocking pens and pencils off the desk from the chair colliding with the desk.

“e-endeavor! hello! g-good to see you again! i thought you joined with the others for lunch!-”, (name) nervous stammering was interrupted. “i’ve told you to call me enji”, enji stated in his low voice that sent shivers down (name’s) spine. “r-right..”, (name) muttered while a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.

“i had heard that you weren’t joining with the heroes.”, enji spoke as stepped inside the nursery. he stood in front of (name), his tall figure hovering over his petite frame. (name) nodded, “yes, i have too much..p-paperwork to get done!”, he answered as he pointed back to the stack of papers that were sat on top of his desk.

he glanced at the stack of paper, and (name) was indeed telling the truth. enji nodded, he understood. enji stared back at the nurse as he lifted a pink cloth that wrapped around a bento box to (name). (name) eyed the bento box with a brow raised. he was hesitant to grab it, but he took it regardless. “fuyumi made it just for you”, enji added as he looked away his cheeks flushed red.

(name) knew fuyumi, well not exactly. enji had talked about his kids to him and they sounded lovely. the only child (name) who had interacted with him was shoto. shoto only came to him when he was wounded, and he hardly got to know him. shoto was highly serious and clear-headed, but there was some sweetness about him, and that is what made (name) take a liking to him.

(name) smiled warmly at the bento box, he wondered if enji had talked about him to his kids. “could you please tell her that i highly appreciate it, i’m sure it tastes delicious!”, (name) giggled as he smiled brightly at enji. enji eyes slightly widened and his cheeks burned brighter as he felt his heart beating loudly. “hm..”, enji hummed.

after that, enji left the infirmary to let (name) continue his work, and eat the food in the bento in peace. he was grateful, as soon he took a bite of the food, he thought he would die of joy. the food tasted delightful. if he ever met fuyumi, he would ask for some recipes from her.

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🎀 ⋅ ˚✮ 🧸

the sun has started to set, all the students went to their dorms while the heroes had their hero duties to attend to. (name) had already finished with his lunch, and it was delicious. (name) was busy typing away on the computer that was on the desk. papers, folders, pencils, and pens were scattered around the desk.

he was too invested in staring at the computer screen to realize the infirmary door slid open and someone walking in. footsteps were coming closer to him, but (name) didn’t notice, until two large hands grasped onto his shoulders. (name’s) typing had come to a halt, his eyes widened as he shuddered in his chair, and he felt his heart stop beating from the scare.

“relax (name), it’s me”, enji reassured him as he gently rubbed (name’s) shoulders to comfort him. (name) sighed in relief but he continued to be on edge. how enji was massaging his shoulders made him feel uneasy. he couldn’t just tell enji to stop his actions, that would just be impolite, after all, enji was just being affectionate.

“s-sorry, you startled me..”, (name) trembled as he tried not to focus on what enji was doing. his eyes looked somewhere else besides enji as sweat beads started to form. the awkward silence was finally broken. “i’ve bought you a gift”, enji stated with a hint of delight in his voice. (name) wasn’t surprised.

now and then, when they both bumped into each other or if endeavor visited the infirmary, he would have a gift in his grasp for (name). whether it be something thoughtful or something luxurious. (name) had told him many times that he didn’t want him to spend his hard-earned money on him, but enji was stubborn as ever and wouldn’t listen.

“you did wha-”, (name) didn’t even finish what he was going to say. the chair was turned around quickly by enji, making him release a shriek. (name) was faced with enji revealing a black medium-sized jewelry box that was topped off with a white ribbon. endeavor slowly opened the box, revealing a sparkling continuous oval diamond necklace.

(name’s) eyes widened, his mouth agape slightly as he stared at the gorgeous and expensive necklace. he couldn’t accept the lavish gift, but endeavor wouldn’t let that happen, (name) couldn’t refuse if he wanted to. enji saw how (name) was memorized by the luxuriant gift he happily bought for him, and he smirked with pride.

“here, let me assist you with placing it around your neck”, endeavor requested with a small smile present on his face. (name) hesitated, but agreed. “o-okay..”, (name) muttered as he slowly rose from the chair, and turned around for endeavor to have easier access to his neck. endeavor didn’t waste this opportunity to look at (name’s) backside.

he looked at his neck he desperately wanted to mark to his waist that he could easily snatch, and then to his plump ass that he extremely wanted to place his hands onto, he bet that it felt soft and squishy. endeavor pushed those thoughts away to focus on his task, putting on this gorgeous necklace around the most beautiful man he ever laid his eyes on.

endeavor carefully removed the necklace from the box, as he safely grasped it. he gently placed the necklace around (name’s) neck as he made sure not to accidentally harm (name) and then fastened the clasp securely. as the necklace was finally around the male’s necklace, endeavor smirked in pride.

knowing that his wealth would “impress” (name), and his money would take care of him for the rest of his life swelled him up with honor. the thought of (name) being his adorable househusband, taking care of the house while enji would shower with him luxury would make his face flush, and even sometimes a boner.

(name) reached for the necklace, his hands roamed the necklace carefully, fingers intertwined with the diamonds attached to the necklace. maybe..he was wrong about enji. (name) didn’t mention this earlier but he thought that enji was a weird old man that had an obsession with him.

it’s just a silly crush that enji would forget about. (name) smiled fondly, “thank you enji, it’s lovely-”. oh, how (name) wished he took those words back. endeavor craned (name’s) neck upwards to try to meet his face level as his lips met (name’s). (name’s) eyes widen in horror, his body flinches as his felt endeavor’s big hand gripped onto his hip.

endeavor’s eyes were shut as he focused on the kiss, he felt like he was on cloud nine. this was like a fairy tale, this was finally happening. how badly (name) wanted to push the man away, and slap him..but the outcome of it. call him selfish, but he doesn’t want to see the large man heartbroken, he wouldn’t live with himself if he was the cause of the endeavor’s depressive behavior.

the fear of the one interfering with the endeavor’s hero work. (name) shook those upset thoughts away as he hesitantly kissed back, closing his eyes. endeavor noticed it made his cheeks turn pink. (name) had finally fallen in love with him as much as he does with (name), that’s what endeavor has thought. (name’s) heart was pounding, and his knees started to feel like jelly.

endeavor realized (name’s) state. he quickly pressed (name) to the wall, trapping him. a grunt left (name’s) lips but that was swallowed up by the kiss. (name) tried to hold himself up. his hands grabbing onto the walls to prevent himself from falling. (name) felt disgusted with himself, he shouldn’t let this man take advantage of him, but he’s allowing him.

endeavor’s hands were placed on (name’s) hips, rubbing them up, and down as their kiss was getting heated. the intimate touches were making (name) hot and bothered, and he was whimpering from the sensation. endeavor’s hand continued to roam (name’s) body until his hands landed on (name’s) ass.

(name) gasped, and endeavor quickly invaded his mouth with his tongue. (name) was taken back by the sudden intrusion, but didn’t complain or even push the man off. tears threatened to spill from (name’s) eyes, endeavor’s tongue was a bit big for his mouth to fit in so he would gag at times.

their tongues tangled together fighting for dominance, but it was endeavor who was doing that crap, he wanted to take full control as drool leaked from (name’s) mouth. (name) was panting in the open-mouthed kiss, this will soon blow over, right? this silly “little” crush?

[chronicbeans]

Nurse's Office

Needed to write a platonic Alastor x Nurse Reader Angst fic after I saw that fight between him and Adam like holy hell.

TW: Injuries and Blood, Medical Tools/Procedures, Anxiety/Slight Panic, Spiraling Mental Health

So... When you got started at the Hazbin Hotel, you didn't expect to be a nurse there. Sure, you have the skills, but you usually don't have a nurse working a hotel. Now, though, you completely understand why they'd want to hire you for that, and not the room service position you applied for. Over the little time you've been here, you've seen more injuries that you could've ever imagined at a single hotel, with so few guests.

After the fight with the angels, though? You have been working on overdrive. You've had to patch everyone up, and you can't even find Alastor. You keep doing a head count after every person you treat, seeing if you can find him, but he doesn't show up. Your anxiety only gets worse once you check on Vaggie, the last person you had to help, and he still didn't make an appearance.

You don't want to assume the worst, though, so you grab some medical supplies, put them into a bag, then head out into the debris. He has to be somewhere. Even if he's not alive, he still deserves to be found. He also couldn't have gotten far! Yeah, he kind of... disappeared at one point...? You didn't get a good look, but he did disappear from your sight. But you don't suspect he'd have went far from the hotel while injured. Just far enough to be safe. That's what you hope, at least...

You continue wandering around for a few hours, your legs feeling exhausted after a while. Climbing over all the rubble, breathing in some of the settling dust, and straining your eyes to see up ahead is tiring... that, and you keep scraping your hands and knees on the sharp rocks and broken concrete. The most disheartening part, though, is that you still haven't seen him... Then, you spot it.

A tiny little splatter of blood.

Then, another splatter nearby...

And another...

Yes, a trail! You don't know who it's going to lead to, but you can see some lights in the distance. It at least leads somewhere. You quickly begin to follow it, seeing the red light get brighter and brighter. The radio tower comes into view. You know that it has to be Alastor, at this point. Why hadn't you thought of it sooner? You climb down the rubble, beginning to make your way over to the ruined tower ahead of you.

As you get close to the bottom hatch, you hear some footsteps against the floor. Immediately, you knock on the hatch, making your presence known. "Alastor! It's (Y/N)! I'm coming in there! If you're on the door, you better get off. Don't even try to stop me from getting in, either, because I'll climb through one of the windows if I have to." You pause, hearing the footsteps stop for a moment. After a few seconds, you crawl into the radio tower.

The place is a mess, to say the least... which, you expected. You stand up, then immediately scan the room for Alastor. It's a bit dark, and knowing him, he's probably going to try to hide, somehow. He hates being seen as weak, and from all the blood you've seen so far, he's gotten injured. Badly.

"Alastor? I know you're in here. I heard you walking." You walk around the room, checking every corner. Then, you notice an oddly moving shadow, alongside a puddle of blood. You walk over to it, frowning. "I know you're there. Come on. I'm here to help." You sigh as the shadow makes a little grunt noise, much like a deer would. You then cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at it. Looks like you'll have to appeal to his ego a little.

"How do you think people would feel if you, the great Radio Demon, died here alone in the shambles of his radio tower?" The shadow grows quiet as you say this, and before you know it, Alastor appears before you. He looks terrible, holding his stomach with one arm and the broken remains of his microphone in his other hand. You take a step towards him, but he backs away a bit.

"I'm fine, dear... It's nothing I can't handle. Just give me some time to regain my energy, then I-" You shake your head instantly, gesturing to his wound. "No, Alastor! Look at you. You almost died! Sure, maybe you can regenerate, I don't know... but I spent an hour or so looking for you, with the sole intention of helping you! I didn't come here for you to tell me "No, I don't need help, even though I'm severely wounded"! I came here to assist you."

You watch his eyes widen, his already strained grin becoming even more strained. His ears then pull back, the look in his eyes becoming more distressed. He mutters something, before nodding. Then, he leans against the wall, before slowly easing himself to the floor. "Fine, dear. If you truly came all this way, I guess it would be rude if I said no to your help." You are a bit shocked he gave up so easily, as well as how uneasy he looks. You decide to just help him, though.

You crouch next to him, taking out your medical tools from your bag. "You're definitely going to need stitches... my healing magic can only do so much, but it should work better if I close the wound first." You smile gently, before you point to him. "Though, I'm going to have to, at least, unbutton your shirt and coat to do so. Are you comfortable with that? I know you are very iffy about being touched..."

Alastor then begins to show more visible signs of discomfort, his eyebrows furrowing, and a slight static hum droning from somewhere nearby. You pick up on it, beginning to think aloud. "I can try to find some way to maneuver around the fabric, instead, since it was cut open-" "No. No. I trust you, dear." You blink a few times, wondering why he is acting so oddly. "Are you sure...?" "Yes, dear. I know you well enough to trust you." He then pauses, before quickly adding "You're a medical professional, after all. You've probably seen more than an upper torso, before. I trust you to not be a degenerate."

You simply chuckle, nodding. "You better! I'd say we're good friends, after all." You then quickly unbutton the clothing, before grabbing some sterile gloves and disinfectant. As you put the gloves on, you hear him mutter something, once again. Then, when you grab a set of tweezers and a cotton ball, he makes an odd comment. "We're great friends, yes...? If I told you a secret, you'd keep it, right?" You nod as you pick the cotton ball up with the needle, cover it in disinfectant, then begin to disinfectant the wound. "Yeah. You can tell me. It'll probably keep you distracted from any pain you feel, too."

Instead of a hiss of pain, the static noise grows loud for a moment. Then, it quiets down a bit as he talks. "I'm not entirely sure if you know this, already, but I made a deal... My soul is owned by someone else. I regret it more than anything..." You let out a little hum, your expression changing to one of shock. You grab the suture needle, as well as some thread. "Why are you telling me this?"

"(Y/N), my dear... I trust you more than many others. I've seen you working in that nurse's office of yours. You care more than the average sinner about others. Almost to a hilarious degree. I can imagine you patching up a soldier on one side of a battle and sending them out, then immediately do the same with someone from their enemy's side." He then laughs, before coughing a bit. "You care... but don't care when it comes to the right things to interest me. I trust you to not care about this, even if it means you'll keep secrets from me."

You nod, before gently smiling. "I'll keep it a secret... I know others could hold this against you and use it for an advantage. So, I won't say a word. Plus, you're right. I'm a bit of a chaotic middle ground. I don't like taking sides." You then get the needle into position, beginning to actually sew him up. "So, tell me... Is there anything else you're anxious about?"

His ears flick, the static growing once more. Then, it dies down again. "I don't want to be remembered as an altruist... I don't want to be seen as someone who had died for that hotel and his friends. I know that there's probably some people there who believe I died... and knowing Vox, he probably found some way to watch what happened. That man is practically obsessed with me, after all, dear!" He laughs, again, causing you to have to pause your suturing. After a few seconds, he begins coughing more. He sounds genuinely upset, despite his laughing.

"Why wouldn't you like that?" Alastor seems to disregard your question, instead beginning to talk about his deal once more. "There has to be an exit to that deal... a loophole. Something so I can get out of it..." You begin to continue, almost done with your work. "Are you sure...? What was it?" "I'm sure, and it's private matters."

You finish up, thing up the last suture's knot. Then, you take off your gloves, putting on a fresh pair, and grab the bandages. "... Alastor, are you alright...?" He looks to you, his eyes wide. "Why are you asking...? I am perfectly fine. Not a problem here. After I get free from my deal, I'll be-"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Alastor... you're frowning."

Alastor seems to grab at his cheeks for a moment, an odd, anxious grimace spreading across his face. Then, he begins forcing another grin. His tone is a lot more frantic, as if he has begun to spiral. Or, perhaps, just begun to outwardly express that he's spiraling. "I wasn't frowning. I am fine, dear." "You're not fine... but, if you say so, Alastor. I won't push the topic." You bandage his wound, before sighing. "Okay, so... This magic works oddly. You'll be-"

Before you can finish, he begins standing up. "Hey, wait-" He, holds a hand up, shushing you. Then, he points to himself. "I'll take care of the rest. You should handle your own wounds, dear. Don't think I haven't noticed your scrapes and cuts. You look like you've ran through a thornbush on your way over here." He begins buttoning up his shirt and coat, and you're shocked to see it repairing itself as he does so. Clearly, while your friend's power is limited, he's hiding more secrets than you expected...

"Fine... You better not leave me here by myself as I do so, though." You go from a crouching position, to a sitting one, as you clean off your tiny cuts. You hear him go quiet, for a moment, but can't see his expression due to your focus now being on yourself. After a few moments, though, you hear him chuckle.

For the first time, you hear his voice clearly, with no radio waves obscuring it. "Of course, dear. I never would dream of that. The others, though? Maybe..."