#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

[insipid-drivel]

"Biz, what would you like for your birthday this year?"

"For nobody to misgender me for a day."

Turned out too much to ask (:

[kerosene-saint]

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.

[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.

[elluminis]

This is one of my biggest complaints with a lot of other leftists on this site. Like, there’s this drive for change and skepticism of authority that is, in my opinion, warranted and well-intentioned—but it often lacks any deeper critical thinking. They’re trying to punch up to the very top because it’s easier than evaluating where every little piece of legislation comes from. This, coupled with what I think is a quintessential misunderstanding of how our government works, leads to “well why hasn’t Biden fixed this?” He can’t just throw executive orders at every piece of shit law that Republicans pass, especially at a state level.

Saw someone reblog my post (they've blocked me but I saw a reblog of said reblog) claiming that Biden somehow was failing on trans rights because of the state level rollbacks.

You know, the ones done by state governments.

You know, the ones the President has zero power over.

Or how the Republican controlled congress wasn't passing his agenda.

Like, hate the guy all you want -- but, like, do it for shit that's actually his fault, y'know? I swear, do folks not actually know how our government works? Did y'all fail sixth grade social studies that hard?

[frankenkyle19]

“Amaze-Balls”

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader (smut)

word count: 4.1k

we’re so back baby!!! Official kinktober list coming out soon with the actual fic ideas as well for you guys to look forward to. Enjoy. I have to admit my smut writing skills are a little rusty :/

warnings/description: reader is a nurse who is also a mutant with healing powers. She resides at the school and helps patch up any kids that end up hurting themselves. Except it’s usually Peter that’s coming through her door to get fixed up. But today he’s a bit down and reader wasn’t to find out why. Leads to.. Well I’m sure you know. smut, porn with plot, handjob, teasing, slightly sub!Peter, crappy writing oh and a tw for mentions of blood from a minor scrape Peter has.

When Charles Xavier reached out to you, asking if you’d be interested in taking a position at his school, you weren’t sure what to make of it.

Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters

It sounded promising enough. A stable job, a place to live and a place you’d be protected? You were a mutant as well, though you didn’t consider your powers to be as cool as any of the X-men’s. Healing. But not any of the cool, important healing, the most you’d ever been able to heal was a small cut or a broken finger or toe. Ease a bit of pain in the body at times. Still, Charles saw promise and potential in you. He drove you a bit mad at times. The man was odd but my god he was a genius. Sometimes having a conversation with him could actually hurt your brain because you just couldn’t keep up.

You’d also been introduced to the rest of the X-men. Most of which intimidated you. Minus Peter of course.

Peter Maximoff. Closer to your age then the rest of them, Peter was a silver haired kleptomaniac with a Hostess snack cake obsession and super speed. He’d been the only person who’d made you truly laugh since you arrived and it immediately eased you. He hadn’t been there long either so the two of you were sort of in the same boat with feeling a little like outsiders.

Unfortunately you didn’t have a lot of time to speak to him. He was busy with students and missions and you were busy making sure that no one died on the premises. It was a full time job. Literally. A school full of young mutants was a recipe for disaster. Barely held together.

You’d see him at dinners and meetings for the X-men that Charles sometimes allowed you to attend. According to him you’d be one of them one day. When you were stronger. You were sure he meant it to be a kind, hopeful sentiment but really it just made you feel like shit. Useless. Only good enough to be a school nurse.

Peter found any excuse in his free time to come to your office. You were torn between believing he’d truly done it because he wanted to speak with you, and the fact that you always had a little tray of treats for the students after they’d been patched up and treated. You presumed the latter. 

Today was just like any other day at the school really. It had been a quiet morning which turned into a quiet afternoon and it was a much needed break from the chaos. The kids seemed to be behaving themselves today. Knock on wood. 

You were sitting in your chair, feet propped up against your desk as you read from whatever book Charles had recommended you. Surely something you didn’t find any enjoyment in because he read the most boring books on earth. You’d taken one of the cookies from your tray of treats, holding it in one hand while the book was in another.

Just as you brought the cookie to your lips, there was a knock on the door and it caused you to jump, dropping the book onto the floor and losing your place. You cursed under your breath before turning your attention towards the door. Of course just as you’d started to relax someone had ended up hurting themselves.

“Come in!” You set the cookie down on your desk, surely to be forgotten while you waited to see which kid had gotten into trouble this time.

Except when the door opened, a familiar head of silver hair popped into view and it definitely was not attached to the head of a child. Maybe in spirit perhaps, but no, it was Peter.

“Peter?” You asked, brows furrowing as he made his way into your office before closing the door behind him, looking all sheepish and shy. That’s when you noticed he was bleeding from his chin. It looked to be just a scrape but still, you didn’t like the sight of blood on him. Someone you cared about.

“What happened?” You stood up, making your way around the desk to examine him closer.

Peter scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, an embarrassed blush splotched over his cheeks. 

“Oh.. pffff, totally wasn’t running with my eyes closed to try and impress the kids and I definitely didn’t trip on a rock and fall chin first onto the concrete. That’s definitely not what happened.”

Your immediate reaction was to roll your eyes. Leave it to Peter to get the most ridiculous wounds from doing the dumbest things. It just made sense.

“How did you even manage- you know what, I’m not even going to ask. You know the drill, up on the table, let me grab some antibacterial wipes.”

 You made your way over to the cabinets on the opposite wall of your office as Peter hopped up onto the table, eyes never leaving you. He hadn’t hurt himself on purpose but he knew if he had really wanted to he could have put his arms out in time to stop himself from falling. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to see you.

Coming back with the supplies you set it on the side of the table next to him, first getting a wipe to wipe off the blood. It revealed a fresh, raw scrape underneath where more blood began to bubble up slowly from the now open flesh. It wasn’t bad but he’d have a scab for at least a few days before the skin healed itself. 

“You always get yourself into the most ridiculous situations.” You scoffed as you tossed the now bloodied wipe into the small trash can. 

Peter nodded in agreement, unusually quiet which had you wondering if something else was up. You didn’t want to pry though.

You continued on in silence, cleaning the scrape before applying ointment and covering it with a bandage. You pulled away and tossed the rest of the trash away before reaching for the tray to offer Peter a treat, his favorite part of coming to see you.

Except he just shook his head and looked at you solemnly. “No thank you,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he looked away

Okay. Now you knew something had to be wrong. The Peter you knew would never turn down a little treat, it’s what kept him going! You’d never really seen him without one. You were determined to figure out what exactly had bummed him out so badly he didn’t even want a cookie. 

“Peter…” you started, looking at him seriously. “What’s wrong? Something happen?” You hoped that he trusted you enough to tell but then again you weren’t sure.

“What? No.. no it’s nothing.” He flushed red now, picking at his fingers as he avoided your gaze. He hated lying to you. It felt wrong and he knew that you knew he was lying too.

“Peter Maximoff. You’re going to tell me what’s wrong right now or I’m going to have the professor read your mind. Spill.” You urged, kicking his foot with your own, gently. You just wanted to know what had happened to make your usual happy go lucky speedster so upset. 

He finally made eye contact with you then, eyes wide at your threat. “Okay okay! Okay… Jesus.”

He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before he started. “It’s just, I had a date… It went great, she seemed super into me but then she asked me why I’d decided to dye my hair silver and when I explained to her I didn’t do anything to my hair and told her about my powers she totally flipped. She left. Called me a freak and told me to never contact her again.” He rushed out, trying to just get the explanation over with. He didn’t want to talk about it any longer than he had to. It was as embarrassing as it was upsetting. 

There was a silence that fell between the two of you then as you tried to find the words to comfort him. He was obviously torn up about it. Could only imagine how it had felt. You’d never experienced anything like it because your powers were quite easy to hide and play off. Peter’s on the other hand- not so much.

“Oh Peter… I’m sorry that’s-“ you didn’t have the words. Why were people still so cruel to mutants? Would it ever change? You’d heard Charles’s speeches countless times about change, how some day they’d be united but the more time that passed, the less you believed him. Was it even a possibility at this point? 

“That’s horrible. You didn’t deserve that and she didn’t deserve you.” You hoped your words at least brought him a bit of comfort until he opened his mouth and spoke once more, the words he spoke next breaking your heart into pieces.

“Do you think I’m a freak? Like- I get it. The speed, the… The hair.” He’d never really had an issue with his hair but sometimes he wished that he didn’t have it. He’d kill to have a normal color. One that would make him less easy to identify as anything other than normal. But the fact of the matter was he wasn’t normal. Wouldn’t ever be normal as much as he tried to pretend. 

Your brows were furrowed deeply as you reached a hand out to rest on Peter’s shoulder as he sat on the exam table, looking more solemn than you’d ever seen him. It didn’t suit him. You wanted the happy, goofy Peter back.

“You are not a freak, you’re a mutant. There’s a difference. You are you and you shouldn’t have to be scared of showing who you really are, Peter. There are always going to be people who will try and tell you who you should be but you need to listen to your heart.” You rested your palm over his chest, right above his heart as you met his sad, brown doe eyes. 

He seemed to consider your words, picking them apart for a moment before he nodded. You were right after all. He hated how sensitive he could be. Wished he had tougher skin. Perhaps it would come in time, the older he got. He hoped he wouldn’t always have this sort of reaction. 

You gave him a small, warm smile. When you smiled at Peter it wasn’t just with your lips. It was your eyes and the way they lit up. Your nose with the way it scrunched up, and your cheeks with the way they reddened just slightly.  

Peter felt a fluttering in his stomach as he looked at you. You who’d been here all along. He’d always sort of had a thing for you but never believed that he would have a chance. Fuck… He’d been rejected once already, what was one more? 

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

Fuck it. 

“Would you kiss me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper but you heard it clear as day. Why had he asked such a question? You weren’t sure but you were certainly going to give him an answer. 

Without much consideration at all you leaned forward and closed the gap between your lips, closing your eyes as Peter’s warm mouth came in contact with your own. 

It was absolutely electric. The spark that seemed to pass between your bodies as you kissed. It started out slow, calculated and nervous before it began to become more free. Heated. You reached to cup Peter’s cheek in your palm as you leaned closer to him to kiss him deeper. It felt so different then any kiss you’d shared with anyone in the past. This one just felt right. Almost familiar as if the two of you had done it a thousand times before. Maybe in another timeline..

Eventually, much to Peter’s disappointment, you had to pull away to take a breath. Peter let out a quiet whine as his now swollen lips chased your own in desperate attempts to get you back on him again. Like he couldn’t live without it. His lifeline. 

“Slow down,” you laughed softly, cheeks flushed. It was sort of ironic, telling the speedster to slow down because you were sure he probably didn’t know how. 

“Telling me to slow down is like telling a cow not to eat grass,” Peter said with a straight face. Why was he so strange? 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not an actual saying-“

“I’m pretty sure I don’t care- Come back here-“ he grinned as he pulled you into another kiss, his large hands coming to rest on your hips, keeping you close. He didn’t want to ever let you go. Slowly you felt yourself leaning into him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders, feeling the material of his stupid silver jacket under your palms. 

Peter was in heaven. Maybe that woman calling him a freak was the best thing that ever happened to him if it led up to this. Kissing you. He pulled you impossibly closer, feeling a familiar stir in his groin. He let out a little groan against your lips, his hips moving of their own accord trying to seek out much needed friction on his rapidly hardening length. He needed something, anything.

“Please…” He found himself whispering against your lips, already desperate. If he didn’t feel so needy he’d be embarrassed but there was simply just no time for that now.

You were fighting your own losing battle with your body, trying not to feed into the needs you felt when you laid your eyes on Peter, still sat on the table, brown eyes blown wide and lips swollen and red from kissing. He looked like something out of a wet dream.

“Peter we can’t- not here- not right now- what if someone sees?” You tried to be the voice of reason but Peter wasn’t having it. He zoomed over to the door, locked it and then zoomed back to you again, this time coming up behind you, pressing himself against you as he chuckled hotly against your ear. “Door’s locked now. We can do whatever we want.” He pressed warm, open mouthed kisses across the delicate skin of your neck, his hands beginning to creep under the bottom of your shirt.

“Plus I think I need a full body check-up. Just to make sure everything’s alright. That I didn’t hurt myself anywhere else.” 

He was an absolute dork but that’s what you loved about him. With a little laugh you shoved him back against the table before your hands went to his pants, undoing his belt before trying to get the fabric down his legs which proved harder than you originally thought. Why were they so damn tight? Eventually though you did manage to pull them down, leaving him in a pair of black boxers, tented in the front with a rather prominent bulge.

He let out a shaky breath as he watched your every move, waiting to see what you’d do next because right now he was convinced he’d let you do whatever you wanted. Okay… Maybe not whatever. Definitely not like… anything super crazy but- UGH! His brain needed to stop moving so fast and just stay in the moment because he was sure it was about to become really memorable.

Your fingers curled under the waistband of his boxers before you were peeling them down as you got on your knees in front of him.

Poor Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched you, trying to stay still when you pulled his boxers down leaving his lower half completely exposed to you. His length twitched and a shiver ran up his spine as he was exposed to the chill air of the room.

The chill didn’t last though because soon your warm hand was wrapped around him, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to have him gripping the table with his hands, head tilted back as he let out a sigh of pleasure.

You looked up at him, a smirk on your lips as you stroked over him a few times before spitting in your hand and continuing your actions.

A moan bubbled up from Peter’s throat, filling the room before he bit down on his bottom lip to try and stifle the noise. The last thing the two of you needed was for anyone to hear because you’d never live it down.

“Feel good?” You asked, as if Peter’s actions and movements weren’t telling enough.

“Course it does, baby- feels so fucking good I- can you use your mouth?” He asked shyly, glancing down at you.

“Why else would I be on my knees, Peter?” Your words seemed to momentarily make his brain short circuit because the next thing he knew, your beautiful lips were wrapped around the tip of his throbbing cock and he felt his knees nearly buckle at the feeling.

“Holy shit- mmmm, that feels absolutely amazing- like you’ve got no idea-“ 

You liked the way he vocalized his pleasure. It had you wet as you continued to swallow him down as best as you could without gagging. 

Peter’s hips stuttered a bit, trying not to thrust into your mouth. He didn’t want to hurt you but it just felt so good and plus he’d never been great at staying still. It was truly impossible for the speedster.

You didn’t mind, breathing hard through your nose. You took him as deep as you could before pulling off of him to suck in a breath, a string of spit connecting your cherry red lips to the tip of his dick. Now that was hot, Peter thought. Hell, who was he kidding? It was all hot.

“You want to keep going like this or you want to do this properly?” You asked, brow raised at the silver haired man who took a moment to respond. You watched the gears turn in his head until it seemed to click.

“I- Holy hell baby, fuck yeah I want to do this properly let’s get this party started!” He shouted excitedly before you shushed him with a reprimanding look.

You stood up, pulling your shirt over your head before stepping out of your pants as well, leaving you in only your underwear and bra.

Peter whistled low under his breath, shaking his head. You were absolutely smokin’! He mentally kicked himself for not initiating all of this sooner.

“You look- I mean- you’re absolutely beautiful.” He whispered.

“I appreciate it Peter, but I’m not sure how much time we have and I’d like you to take off the rest of your clothes and get this show on the road, yeah? Think you can do that?” Your slight teasing voice had him twitching once more and he quickly threw off his jacket and shirt and kicked his pants the rest of the way off of his legs.

The two of you were urgent with your movements, wanting to get to it before a child inevitably ended up hurting themselves and rushing to your office. Your time was limited but lucky for you, Peter was just about the best person for a quickie. Hell, it was practically in his name.

Your lips collided again, teeth narrowly avoiding clashing against each other as you kissed fiercely.

Peter watched in awe as you unhooked your bra and slid off your panties, letting them join the ever growing pile of fabric on the floor by your feet. 

“Do you have a condom?” You asked Peter. Before you had a chance to blink he rushed out of the room and not even a second later came back with one firmly gripped between his fingers.

“Did you just- Peter you’re naked! What if someone saw you?” You shouted, smacking his shoulder before snatching the condom from him, tearing the foil at the perforated edges before pulling the condom out.

“I’m fast as hell baby, no one was gonna see m-oh-“ He moaned as you rolled the condom onto his length, giving him a few firm strokes for good measure before you hopped up onto the table, spreading your legs to give him a good view of just how much you needed him.

He wasted absolutely no time in grabbing you by your hips and pulling you towards the edge of the table, stepping between your legs as he positioned his rock hard cock at your entrance. He was throbbing and practically shaking with anticipation as he looked up at you once more to make sure this was okay.

You gave him a little nod, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him closer. His tip slid into you with ease thanks to how wet he’d made you and the both of you simultaneously let out a little shaky moan at the feeling.

Peter’s palms rested on either side of you on the metal table. He felt the cold beneath his palms rapidly heating from his body temperature as he glanced down at you. He was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

Slowly he began to press himself farther into you, watching as you just seemed to suck him in. More more more until he was fully seated inside of you, filling you up in such a delicious way that had you practically squirming for him to move.

“Peter- Please-“ You begged, looking up at him, a desperate and pleading look on your face. Peter didn’t waste a second, pulling back just to slam back into you, making your body scoot forward on the table before he was grabbing you and pulling you back.

You let your head fall back against the metal, hands reaching for Peter’s as he began fucking into you at a brutal pace, eyes clenched shut and lip bitten between his teeth.

“Oh Jesus-“ he breathed out. “This is so good- fucking hell you’re so tight- and warm- squeezin’ me like crazy- I’m not gonna last-“ Peter warned, gripping onto your hips so tightly you were sure he was going to leave bruises. But to you they were welcomed bruises. They’d serve as a reminder of the fun you’d had.

“Peter- do me a favor?” You asked, to which he looked down at you immediately, ready to comply with everything you said. “Don’t hold back.” You whispered between the two of you.

Something in Peter snapped and he began to fuck into you at a brutal pace now, the table squeaking with each of his powerful thrusts. He began to vibrate, something you’d soon learn he did when he was close and had a hard time controlling his powers. Something you’d learn to absolutely love. 

He brought one of his hands down to your core, beginning to rub over your clit with his thumb. Just that felt amazing already but then he began to vibrate his thumb, the buzz setting your body alight as you arched into the touch, gasps and moans leaving your lips without thought.

“Peter! I didn’t- I didn’t know you could do that-“

“There's a lot about me you didn’t know. I’m sure you’ll learn soon,” he said in his stupid, flirtatious tone, never stopping his thrusts.

He began to lose his rhythm a bit, brows furrowed, silver hair sticking to his forehead as he tried to hold on. He wanted you to come first.

“Please- please come for me-“ he whispered breathlessly, applying even more pressure to your clit.

You didn’t need much more after that. His words and the buzzing sensation were more than enough to have you flying over the edge, gripping onto the sides of the table as hard as you could as you came, clenching down tightly on his dick, practically trapping him inside your warm, wet walls.

Peter thrust into you a few more times before stilling, filling the condom up so full it might burst. He leaned over your body, panting as the two of you tried to catch your breath.

“That was…” You panted, trying to find the words to even describe how absolutely magical that had been. 

“Amaze-balls?” Peter finished for you, sending you into a fit of laughter as he pulled out of you, tying the condom off and throwing it into the trash.

“That’s not the word I would use, but sure. Yes Peter, it was Amaze-balls.” You scoffed, shaking your head.

Peter grinned lopsidedly at you before gathering up the clothes on the floor, handing yours off to you before he himself put his back on.

“I should get back to teaching the kids. I’ll see you later at dinner?” He asked excitedly.

Your eyes met his, absolutely beaming at you. He was adorable. Irresistible if you will.

“I’ll see you at dinner. Bye Peter.” And just like that, he left in a flash of silver, leaving you alone in your office to change and go back to reading your boring book and eating your cookie.

Amaze-balls.

[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.

[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.

[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.”

[gothic-thoughts]

His Favorite Nurse

Michael Myers x Black Fem Reader Angst

AslumPatient!Michael, Nurse!Reader, Kinda Dark, Feat. Dr. Loomis

Part 2: Right Here

Part 4 (Last): Right Here

CW: reassuring Michael after a rampage, he just missed u fr,

TW: gore/blood mention

Word Count: 1973 (give or take)

On my day back, I walked into the asylum to hear alarms blaring loudly, but I was in the lobby so everything seemed fine. It was only after hearing the faint sounds of police sirens that I ran into the elevator, tapping my foot impatiently as it took me to the 3rd floor. When it dings open, I run into the hallway Michael’s room was in, heels clicking quickly until I reach the start of the corridor but I freeze in place.

My jaw drops and my breath halts.

Bodies of guards and nurses were scattered all over the hall accompanied by their own puddles of blood, some had their heads crushed into a chunky mess while others had their throats ripped out. None of these puddles are dry, did he just do this? Why? And where is he? Despite my stomach being sick I push through, stepping past and over the multiple corpses.

“S-She’s coming back, I swear!” He whimpered, “Please, I didn’t mean it,  just please...!”

Shit, that’s the next hall. I turn the corner to see The Shape further down the hall stalking towards an unarmed guard who crawled back from him with a brutally broken arm, begging for his life. The killer’s hands, arms, and feet were soaked in blood, I could hear his heavy breathing from all the way down here. 

Without thinking, I ran a little closer in hopes of distracting him from earning another kill as loud police sirens closed in from afar. I stopped a good 20 feet from my big, murderous patient and did the only thing I could think of to potentially distract him enough:

“Michael!!”

The Shape freezes in place, his long, shaggy hair shifting as he slowly lifts his head from the guard. He looks back over his shoulder almost as if to confirm it was me before turning his entire body to face me, leaving the guard completely forgotten behind him. My heart pounded with fear and disbelief that I actually stopped him, even if for only a second. I remain still, watching him from afar and he doesn't move either, most likely analyzing me from behind that orange mask of his.

“I... I'm back...?”

After another long 10 seconds of silence, he tilts his head to the right. Then takes a step forward, foot thudding from his weight.

I stumble back a little but he continues to approach wordlessly, with slow, deliberate steps.

“Uh, hey big guy...”

His breaths are instantly back to being undetectable, even more so as more police sirens join the others. At first, I wanted to let him close the gap between us but the scent of blood— the sight of it practically dripping from his body combined with the intensity of the moment made my courage crumble and I ran in the other direction. I hear Michael huff angrily as his heavy footsteps stomp quickly behind me, closing the distance as if my running didn’t matter, his longer legs helping him gain on me in seconds— in my defense, I was wearing heels. 

Knowing that I wasn’t gonna be able to outrun him, I started banging on all the patients' doors in the hall, hoping to find an unlocked one as my heart raced. Little did I know, this whole floor had been evacuated right after Michael broke out and before my shift started.

“Hello!? Let me in!” I begged, “C’mon, please! Somebody help me!”

Nobody responds, the only sound being the loud footsteps of the nearly 7-foot killer getting closer. As I reach the next handle, Michael suddenly grabs my arm, causing me to scream as he forcefully spins me to face him. He calmly and slowly leans down to look at me while I panic but as soon as I try to pull away, he roughly pulls me flush against his blood-soaked clothes with a single grunt.

“Michael, no!” A familiar voice called, “Stop!”

I look back over my shoulder to see a group of police officers running behind Dr. Loomis with their guns drawn as they make their way down the blood-soaked hallway. They all stop and stand at the end of the corridor, smartly staying a safe distance from Michael. Tears sting the corner of my eyes as I wait for him to hurt me.

But he doesn't. 

In fact, upon seeing Loomis he pulled me impossibly closer to his bloody shirt, holding me so tight against him that a small amount seeped from the fabric and smeared my right cheek.

“What is he doing...?” Loomis asks aloud, “He's never done anything like this before; he doesn’t take hostages. Michael... Let the girl go... please.”

Michael doesn't say a word, his head never lifting to even consider looking at Loomis.

“Please...” I whimper, choking up, “P-Please don’t hurt me...”

“Michael...” Loomis says, taking a step forward, “She's begging you. Don’t hurt her, let her go.”

The doctor’s step made the masked killer immediately take another step back.

“No.” I sniffle, looking up at him, “Please don’t hurt me, just... please.”

He tilted his head to the side, at least giving me some confirmation that he was listening to me, but his arm didn’t even attempt to loosen from around my back. That’s when Loomis picked up on something:

“Do... you like her?” He asks gently, “That’s it, isn’t it... you like her...?”

I tense at his words, eyes widening at the revelation. After all this time, Michael hadn’t made a single move to hurt me. He hadn’t crushed me, broke my neck, hit me, nothing. I had been in his grasp for over a minute and the only thing wrong is how fucking terrifying he is. I look up at the killer's mask and take it upon myself to try something— since we already bonded a little, it didn’t seem like that big of a risk. I slowly wrap my arms around Michael’s waist, staining my arms in blood.

“Michael...?” I say, taking a deep breath, “C-Can you can wrap your arms around me... like this?”

The killer stays silent for a moment, head tilting to the right.

“Please...? You’re... You're scaring me...”

He readjusts his head, never taking his cold eyes off me. A couple seconds of silence passed before he readjusted the arm across my back and added his other to mimic me, completely enveloping me in his tight embrace. I gasp softly in disbelief.

“Yeah, like that, good.” I choke up despite being a little calmer, “That’s better...” 

His huge arms instantly relaxed at my words, I even managed to catch a soft breath from behind that orange mask.

“You just killed so many people, and... do you know why...?”

He huffs behind the mask, seemingly agitated again as he starts tensing against me so I instantly shush him and rub his lower back, bringing his large frame to a frighteningly immediate halt.

“Easy, you know I’m just asking. Like the questions last week, remember?”

Another softened huff as he retightened his embrace. Then a subtle nod. He’s really trying his best to be gentle; it’s kinda cute. It’s just too bad my heart was already going a mile a minute. Everyone must think I’m crazy, but I just need to keep him calm... or whatever his version of calm is. 

I can feel Loomis’ and the police’s confused looks on us, completely at a loss of what to do now but I ignore their stares, doing everyone a favor by keeping the murderous giant calm and collected by softly petting his chest and a few gentle words. Somehow.

“That's it, you don’t have to hold me so tight. I won’t go anywhere.”

My eyes stayed locked on the cold, dead blue ones behind the mask, making sure he was watching as I slowly pulled my arms from around him. I rest my hands on his broad, blood-stained chest while I gently coax him to loosen his grip, trying to convince him I wasn’t gonna try to run away, and after a full minute, he finally listens, arms slowly becoming less tense. I smile.

“There you go, see? I'm right here...” I whisper, “Did you hurt all this staff just because I left for the week?”

Michael suddenly drops his arms from my body. He hangs his head, his long, brown hair obscuring his mask as his bloody hands gently grab the chin of his mask and the string on the back of his head, slowly pulling off his mask before promptly dropping it to the floor next to him. I hear the cops murmur, their grips on their weapons tightening as Michael reaches into his pocket, but I hear Loomis shush them.

“What are you doing?”

He pulls out a bloody ID card, the movement making 3 more fall out and clatter to the floor. He didn’t react to them, opting to hold up the first one to my face with his fingers. A...nurse? He killed her and took her ID? Wait... I take the card and pick up the ones that fell, reading all of them to see that they were all nurses.

Between this and what the guard said when he was crawling away, it all clicked: “S-She’s coming back, I swear! Please, I didn’t mean it,  just please...”. I look up at his obstructed face and I couldn’t help but pout sympathetically as if he didn’t just murder 4 nurses and then some.

“I didn’t leave you, and I’m not going to. I just took a break.”

Michael's head lifts slightly, giving me a glimpse of those dead, blue eyes narrowing through his hair. Oh right, I leave when my shift ends. Shit.

“And if I do, I'll be right back; nobody’s replacing me— especially not if this is what you do when you miss me. Next time, I’ll tell you when I’m taking a long break okay?”

He nods subtly.

“Why’d you take off your mask? You didn’t need to.”

He firmly grabs my wrist and to my surprise, he guides it past his dark strands until my palm rests on his cold cheek. I smile at him.

“Aw, you’re kinda cute when you’re not all, uh...” I quickly glance at the carnage around us again, “Angry...?”

A small huff and I could see his eyes close.

“We gotta get you cleaned up, big guy. Can I take you to the showers? I won’t let the police hurt you, but—”

The blue eyes snap open. The killer's body straightens up, lifting his free hand and poking my chest.

“Me...?”

A nod.

“Fair, I guess them hurting you isn’t really the issue but they won’t hurt me either.”

His lack of movement makes me sigh. Without letting go of his face, I look over my shoulder at Loomis wondering how to even ask this.

“Loomis, can you get the police to clean up everything else while I... fix him up?”

“Is he...” Loomis steps back, “Are you sure? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just need you to get the police away cuz he thinks they’ll hurt me.”

“They’ll hurt you?!”

“Just... humor me, alright? Unless you wanna deal with him?”

Loomis rightfully hesitates but knowing the carnage in the next hall, he complies and turns back to face the police, telling them to, at the very least, put their guns away— to leave him alone and carry on with the crime scene clean up as normal— as normal as they can anyway. I look back at Michael, watching his shoulders lower as the cops holster their guns. Once a few start to leave to go get the cleanup team, he finally releases my wrist and steps back, waiting for me to lead him to the shower room.

[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?

[rubyarerosies]

got a youth of may inspired angst kinda rant with gojo if anyone wants to know hehe

(tw. cheating? (not on mc) death, injuries, kinda toxic idk)

Gojo’s a Lieutenant General in military and you’re his favourite nurse, obvious reason, you’re his girlfriend of 3 years. You both met during your stay in medical school and his 3 week training for medical assistance - dates and hard fucking were what sprouted this love. Your the first nurse he calls when he’s injured, he always comes to your office during your lunch break if he has time, and he always kisses you and his promise ring when he leaves for a mission domestically or internationally.

But things started to change when your branch was sent to a city where martial law was declared, and Gojo had to stay because a Lieutenant General was already placed for duty there. You both did your best in keeping contact, but with the amount of shifts you were put on due to military violence held you back in the hallways of the hospital. Misunderstandings happen as Gojo worries over your long absences and you worry during your shifts at the hospital on whether or not if you should talk to him - would it end up being an argument? You stop texting and he’s at his wits end. That’s until your cousin, also a nurse back at home, started becoming your emissary because of your turmoil.

It hurts me but Gojo starts to become attached to your cousin, starting to enjoy her company more than what she initially came to tell him about you. But Gojo wouldn’t pursue her if he was still with you - you’re still precious to him, you’re still someone he loves, so he breaks it off over the phone.

“Is it her?” - “…Yeah,”

“Why her?” - “She’s here.”

You don’t hear from her or him after that, you figure she feels out of place to talk to you now that she’s somewhat got feelings for her cousins ex boyfriend. And Satoru, you figure he’s wallowing in a pit of shame, although it must not as deep as you expect since he wasn’t scared to say it over the phone, or keep it secret for a bit at home (you don’t think you want to call that city home anymore)

“Shoko told me there’s not much they hide over there,” Suguru’s voice is soft, you don’t want his pity - but you rethink it when his next words come out cautiously it sends an uncomfortable tremor in you.

“…She also said he doesn’t wear his ring anymore,”

Blah Blah Blah, time goes on. You try to work on yourself but with such little time on your hands, there’s only so much you can do for yourself. But Suguru helps the best he can, he’s a good friend - almost too good that your chest doesn’t tremble with sadness when he starts to talk about Satoru and your cousins status (he only does it when you ask, and he makes sure to double check if you’re really sure he can talk about - ‘she’s ranked up, she sits in your old office now’ ‘Shoko growled them off the other day for spilling disinfectant over the infirmary floor, she called them ugly hounds’)

There’s a big city commotion that happens, and martial law calls for back up. Overnight, reinforcements are sent over.

Gojo happens to stumble into your infirmary with a dislocated shoulder, his head held down low as he sits on the bed, his mind screams about the nostalgia of it all. You walk in and grimace a bit, then heave out a sigh. It’s silent on your part, you only give him sharp answers when he asks how you’ve been and if you’ve been doing ok. Satoru feels his stomach backflip when he feels your touch across his shoulder, collarbone and chest, your hands feel like fire but so soft simultaneously. He also feels something cold, and it makes him shiver, he looks down - your promise ring.

“Don’t feel so special, I wasn’t going to let this dust up in my drawer, it’s a nice ring.”

When you leave, you bump into your cousin who looks frantic. It’s awkward until she asks where he is, you point to the closed curtain and she leaves with a bitter taste in her throat (she was there on sight ready to help him, but he had already asked for your assistance out of instinct)

Gojo resumes his duties, but this time, he stays here. Suguru says it’s because the other Lieutenant generals wife just had their first born so he went back home.

After the first city commotion, more happens, the people are restless. You understand them, it’s not nice law abiding a more corrupt ‘government.’ Gojo too, he doesn’t like how the higher ups order so much violence against the public, but to save face for his position he stays quiet. You don’t. You join the people and Satoru watches.

It’s now routine to always bump into him. Your cousin now works at your hospital, so you’re bound to see him when he comes to visit and pick her up if he can. He tries to befriend you, but you don’t want that.

Satoru sees you forget your ID one day when entering the hospital in casual clothes, the soldiers at the door must be new because they start to become aggressive. You’re shoved on the floor and before you could be slapped, Gojo steps in and takes it on his shoulder - his injured shoulder.

And that’s how you end up hold an ice bag on the swelling area of his shoulder. Satoru uses his thumb to smoothe out your eyebrows, saying how you’re scary with a glare. And when you finally look up, you see his dog tag is paired with his promise ring, when you ask about it he says, “Didn’t have the heart to throw it in my draw as well,”

This is where things start to get confusing with our lovebirds? Gojo is being confusing; he likes you cousin, he really does, but he thinks he still loves you, and Y/N won’t open up to him about the possibility of dating him again because of how poisonous it is to think about how they ended before.

Satoru decides for the both of you when he comes back for a checkup and lets it slip that he misses you, and when you look up, he kisses you, his hand cradling your hand with the promise ring and pulling it against his chest to connect it with his.

However, you don’t take kindly to his actions and slap him after. He whispers he loves you when you leave. After leaving himself, he goes over to his girlfriend’s apartment and apologises.

“Why?” - “She’s here now, and that’s all I needed”

You do your best at pushing him away, but he’s persistent. It starts to annoy you that you beg your superior to change your shifts, but no matter what, he’s always there like shadow.

“Y/N,” he says sternly, but you don’t falter in your haste to seem against the idea, “7PM, tonight,”

“I can’t leave until 9,” - “7PM, I’ll carry you if I have to,”

You get carried out at 7PM but the date is cut short after a curfew was set at 8PM, Satoru says he didn’t know about this. The 2 dates you go to after the first is not out of your will, but you would say the ones after aren’t.

It’s after a month when Satoru says he loves you again, and this time to your face. You think it’s because of how damn serious everything is starting to crumble, he came back to the infirmary a week ago with a very nasty concussion and gashes and there was a sliver of panic in him that he wouldn’t make it without telling you how much you meant to him. So he confessed to you the week after.

“I know you don’t have the answer right now, come back to me tomorrow night and I’ll wait for you, always,”

You don’t give him an answer, mind too muddled after a change of events these past couple of months, but you give him your ring as a promise that you will come back if not tomorrow, and he gives his to you as a reminder that you always have a part of his heart. You leave his room after that, and when you do, you notice it’s past curfew. The rural areas of the city are quite scary to walk by, especially the trees.

Long story short, you see a kid in the woods afraid of making their way home because of how brutal they’ve come to realise the military men were, you do your best in walking them out but get shut down when a soldier drives past and sees your white uniform in within the trees. He’s yelling, calling you a traitor for conspiring with the public with such suspicion. You tell the kid to run when you stand up and he does, your hands are lifted and you turn around when the soldier spots the kid disappear into the trees.

He shoots you in the chest, you think it pierced your lung, and you drop to the ground. He leaves you in that woods but you’re just thankful he didn’t pursue that precious child into the woods. Your chest heaves with heartbreak each shallow breath you take - Satoru, your eyelids feel heavy the more you take a breath. You love him, despite it all, you love Satoru - always have, always did.

Your eyes reach the sky, it’s flimmering with birght stars. You think if you concentrate hard enough, it’ll show you the cosmos that are in Satoru’s eyes. You take the ring out of your pocket and do you best with one hand to slide it on your ring finger.

“I do, Satoru, I do.”

You do love him, and you think broadly if he had asked for your hand you would’ve replied the same as well.

It’s 4 years after you disappeared - only Satoru thinks that, but others beg to differ. After the martial law was overrun in that city, violence was eradicated and Satoru decided to no longer pursue his fight as a military man - that time of his life showed him that being a part of the military wasn’t what his morals were - plus it wasn’t what you wanted too.

After you hadn’t showed the night after, he clutched your ring tightly to manifest that you would come back to him someday - but he didn’t mean 3 years later.

“It’s - It’s her, they found her,” Suguru whispers, and Satoru stops. Time stops for him, everything stops.

Satoru is brave, the bravest soldier his superior would preach about, but he isn’t brave enough to see what was left of you. So he clutches the ring that was found with you, his wails come violently like his soul is being ripped from him. Your cousin is the only one to comfort him, she’s no longer bitter about everything because if that didn’t happen she wouldn’t have met her now husband and son. So she comforts him as a thank you.

After a month, Satoru visits your grave. He weeps at your photo, his body curled on the grass; he’ll never see you again, he’ll never remind you how his love bleeds for you every time, and he’ll never know what you wanted to say that night.

He loved you for three years, still loved you for another and will forever love you until he gets to greet you again.

His dog tag dangles with both your rings.

“I’ll keep these clean for you for the next time I see you, my love, wait for me okay?”

[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..."