Tumgik
#robert james imagine
amberbeach · 6 months
Text
'AFTERMATH'
Tumblr media
gif belongs to me
The chill of the space beside him alerted RJ that you were no longer sleeping beside him and had been gone for at least ten minutes. He sat up, looking around the room, the moon outside peeking in through the curtains granting enough light that he could see you weren't in your bedroom. He glanced at the clock as he got out of bed and quietly made his way to the living space, finding it was encased in darkness.
He looked around in confusion until he heard a noise from downstairs in the pizza parlour. A smile formed on his lips as he headed downstairs to the kitchen where he found you spreading sauce on the pizza dough you had made.
RJ chuckled, startling you, and you looked at your husband when he approached you. "Let me guess, midnight snack?"
"What? I'm eating for two now." You placed a hand on your bump, and RJ smiled as he stood behind you, placing his hands on your arms while kissing your cheek.
"Here." He took over the cooking, and you helped add toppings, looking over at him.
"Did I wake you?"
He shook his head, "The bed was cold."
He didn't have to elaborate for you to realize why he had started looking for you. It had been months since the incident, but the look in his eyes told you that it was still very much on his mind. RJ could never shake the fear that overcame him when he found you were gone. It took him back again and again and revisited him in his sleep. The night you were taken by Dai Shi, who stole your animal spirit to make himself stronger, haunted him every day since.
You frowned, observing your husband, whom you had met at the academy. You got married weeks after graduation and have been together ever since, and there was no greater test than helping him mentor three teenagers who could save the world.
You couldn't imagine how it must've been while you were gone. RJ had spoken about it after a nightmare, and you discussed his need to be closer to you once you returned. You knew that if the roles were reversed, you would've lost your mind with worry. And since your pregnancy, RJ was more protective than ever.
You approached the Purple Ranger, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder after he placed the pizza in the oven. He smiled softly as he turned to you, and you rested your head on his chest as you stood in the lit kitchen, in his warm embrace.
"I'm sorry. I never thought - "
RJ shook his head, "I know. It seems silly now, months on, but I can't shake that feeling." He pressed a kiss to your head, meeting your gaze when you lifted your head to look up at him. "I thought I'd lost you. And I couldn't survive that." He placed a hand on your cheek, and you sent him a small smile.
"Do you remember what I told you at our wedding?"
"No matter what happens, we'll always have each other."
"Which means when - if - something happens to me, I'll haunt you forever."
RJ cracked a smile, and you smiled when he began to chuckle. He kissed you tenderly before walking to the oven to check on the cooking pizza. You placed your hand on your stomach in surprise, a smile forming on your lips.
"RJ," You called softly, gaining his attention.
He met your gaze, glancing at your hands. "What's wrong?"
"They're kicking." You told him.
He approached you, and you held his hand on your stomach. Moments later, he felt pressure against his hand, and he smiled brighter than you had seen in a while.
You met his gaze when he placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you tenderly. "I love you."
"I love you too."
That night before time ticked by into the early hours of the morning, you headed upstairs and back to bed. RJ laid on his side while you sat with your back against the headboard, sharing the pizza you made as you added to the list of names you liked for both genders.
After the pizza was finished, RJ shifted until his head rested on your lap, and you smiled softly, combing your fingers through his hair, leaning over to turn off the lamp to allow your husband to succumb to sleep, knowing it didn't come easy to him lately.
While you still felt the void left by the absence of your animal spirit, it was nothing compared to the prospect of losing each other. And you were thankful that he and the Rangers had found you when Dai Shi went to extraordinary lengths to hide you away. He was growing stronger, but you knew the final confrontation between him and the Rangers was coming soon. And as you looked down at your husband you silently wished for him not to come to harm, and the Rangers.
Right now, you were still healing through the aftermath.
73 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Give em the ole razzle dazzle
332 notes · View notes
mayemperess · 1 year
Text
Giving House MD characters a rock/shell/shiny thing
Tumblr media
Cameron- confused; Doesn’t get it but very polite
4/10
Foreman- probs thinks you’re a crazy person, why would you give him a random rock? He won’t say it but he’s beyond confused
1/10
Thirteen- probably gets it, happy; might give one in return.
13/10 (couldn’t resist :P)
Chase- undecided if he gets it, either way he’s very happy. Thinks it’s the sweetest bc he’s a sweetheart. Probs keeps it in his locker or smth. Getting a gift from you makes him feel very loved,
20/10
Kutner- Dorky boy, gets it and is SO happy, probs gives you a similar item in return
100000/10
Taub- doesn’t get it at all. He’s polite about it though
3/10
Wilson- he probably doesn’t get it, let’s be real. But he’s happy to have it and keeps it like on his desk or in his home. He probably gets all flustered and blush when you give it to him, smiles whenever he looks at it
9/10
Cuddy- you know when parents get really shitty art from their kids, but act like it’s the best thing in the world? That.
6/10
House- obvious route would be just to say he scoffs and acts like it’s stupid, then on the inside/ in private, be very happy about it
However
I’m convinced this man had like a geology or dinosaur phase or smth as a kid, bc who doesn’t? (Or maybe it’s a neurodivergent thing? Idk doesn’t matter) So I think he would genuinely really like it
He’d be like Jack Sparrow and the jar of dirt
House: “…is the rock going to help?”
Y/n: “If you don’t want it, give it back.”
House: “No!”
He probs keeps it in his apartment, and is genuinely flattered that you gave him something. He’s affection starved as hell, as we can figure, so I think he just gets a little happy every time he sees it.
15/10
2K notes · View notes
kumquatpoo · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
youtube
What if instead of rsl it was just wilson making these
251 notes · View notes
house-md-imagines · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
leave your custom imagines in the tags 😁 funniest one gets officially imagined...
160 notes · View notes
lanawinterscigarettes · 5 months
Text
House MD masterlist
Requests are currently open!
Tumblr media
Key:
Fluff: ♡ Angst: ♤ Smut: ♧ Headcanons: ◇ May contain triggering content: ☆
~
Greg House
Sweatshirt ♡
More Important ♡
Your Last Breath ♤☆
~
James Wilson
James Wilson dating someone who gets cuteness aggression ◇
James Wilson and love languages ◇
James Wilson accidentally consuming an aphrodisiac ◇
How James Wilson would react to the reader wanting to wait until marriage to have sex ◇
Period Cramps ♡
More Important ♡
How the reader would fluster James Wilson ◇
Your Last Breath ♤☆
~
Allison Cameron
How Allison Cameron would react to a reader who has low empathy ◇
~
Remy "Thirteen" Hadley
Random characters with a reader who plays Five Nights at Freddy's ◇
~
174 notes · View notes
xue-mei · 3 months
Text
the thing about james wilson pretty boy doctor extraordinaire with a terminal case of people pleasing who works in oncology, probably the department with one of the highest death rate in a hospital, barring maybe the er, who sleeps with his patients, gets married and divorced three times, incorrigible cheater and best friends with house, who is probably the worst person and the best doctor you will ever meet. wilson, kind hearted, boyish charming face, puppy dog brown eyes wilson, who lies to the police to cover house, unasked, and cheats on his wife and makes great macadamia pancakes and stuffed peppers. he's babygirl. he would be cancelled in seconds if he was real. i love him. he has beautiful eyebrows and perfect hair. imagine what he looked like when he first met house. i want to put him in a jar and shake him.
133 notes · View notes
papa-evershed · 24 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rob James-Collier as Kevin O'Dowd
THE LEVEL
78 notes · View notes
y13evie · 1 year
Text
masterlist
Tumblr media
smut is tagged with ☆
harry potter:
call of duty:
könig
first time w könig blurb ☆
sub! könig riding blurb ☆
simon ‘ghost’ riley
rough mission? give your bf some head! ☆
johnny ‘soap’ mactavish
john price
lust for life (professor price x student reader) ☆
alejandro vargas
alejandro vargas x thiccckkkk reader ☆
philip graves
oneshots + hcs
141 + könig react to you wearing thigh highs ☆
141 + könig, alejandro,n rudy with thick thighed s/o
141 + alejandro rudy konig graves with plus size s/o
house m.d:
dr gregory house
robert chase
your houses kid and he just wants to treat u good
james wilson
u just wanna have fun but james is mean :(
clear your mind ☆
allison cameron
house is spying on you, cute lovey dovey w my girl
spider-man atsv:
miguel o’hara
a jealous man ☆
riding miguel drabble ☆
brat ☆
hobie brown
music to his ears ☆
peter b. parker
miles morales
earth 42! miles x reader fluff
pavitr prabhakar
the outer banks:
rafe cameron
614 notes · View notes
waynewifey · 1 year
Text
aporia — b.w
part one : dear mr. wayne
part two: aftermath
part three: aporia
epilogue
sumary: aporia suggests “an impasse”, a knot or an inherent contradiction found in any text, an insuperable deadlock, or “double bind” of incompatible or contradictory meanings which are “undecidable”. [reference]
pairing: battinson/bruce wayne x reader
genre: drama & romance
warnings: mental health struggle, miscarriage, car crash, a lot of internal dialogue
word count: 2k
A/N: the more i write, the more i put myself in this story. i feel like this ‘you’ is so complex i can’t help but try to explain her further. part four will be bruce’s perspective on all of this + an epilogue. i’m so grateful for the amazing feedback given on the last two parts and for the new followers, thank you so so much. i hope you enjoy this. (also this gif??? HELLO???)
Tumblr media
GOTHAM. USA.
— bargaining.
the uncomfortable silence makes you want to scream. she told you that was a normal reaction and they couldn't get rid of those moments, they were essential for your self reflection. the problem was being alone with your thoughts, even for just one minute. they keep deciding you won't recover any time soon. everyone keeps holding you like a cracked vase. even negligence was better than being put under the microscope.
"i don't know what you want me to say" you respond, your gaze anxiously shuffling between the objects in the room. the woman's eyes, however, don't ever leave your face. she holds that journal like a scientist analysing a mutation. like you're some weird thing.
"you should say whatever you feel like saying." that's what she always answers. dr. quinn was extremely stoic, even for a therapist. you still liked her, though, because her pragmatic approach helped you shift your point of view and see yourself from an outside perspective, which made you want to help yourself. after weeks of feeling extra irritable, still trying to forgive your husband for lying to you, you realised maybe everything was too much for you to handle by yourself. you wanted to go back to the real world but before that, you had to do this. a quick chat with your psychiatrist and he gave you the contact to harley quinn.
"i think i've been way too mean to bruce" your confession has her nodding, like that observation had been made sessions before and she was waiting for you to realise that. "he's been so supportive and helpful, but sometimes words just fly out of my mouth and i don't even mean them"
"do you think it's easier to blame him than to come to terms with what actually happened?" you can't answer, because this was all you've asked yourself lately. you were a coward, hiding behind his suffering to prevent confronting yours. it's easy to curse him, to reject him, but it's not what you want to do. lately it feels like you don't have any control over your emotions and actions. you thought maybe if you pushed away the last person that still cared for you, you could disappear in your loneliness and finally stop hurting. "y/n you've been through something terrible. the kind of thing we never think it's gonna happen to us. i know it doesn't feel real, but you have to face it that it is. the thing about trauma... you have to keep living with it. you have to keep going, because it doesn't go away. but this is your life and you don't get to stay on standby. you hurt the people you love because it's better than hurting yourself. you told me you feel bad about it, so why won't you change?"
why won't you? you don't even know where to start. it felt comfortable living in sorrow forever. horrible, but comfortable. again, it was in fact easier to blame him than to accept this was reality. but he's right outside, been waiting for you for two hours, as he has done twice a week for over a month. you weren't being fair to him. he didn't deserve this. dr. quinn sees the defeat in your eyes and sighs in a mission accomplished type of breath.
"think about this, okay? we'll talk on friday." you nod, as if you weren't already overthinking it.
bruce sees you before listening to you. he's created the habit to stay in the waiting room with headphones in, blasting loud music. he didn't want you to feel like he was prying on you. he also didn't want to listen anything you had to say about him. you had the right to be mad at him, given everything that had happened. he knew you didn't mean it when you bomb dropped the word 'divorce' every now and then. it would take you some time to get back to normal and he wouldn't rush you.
you walk to the car quietly and get into the driver's seat. he agreed to let you drive to and from therapy. the office was actually in dr. quinn's house, a little bit on the country side of the city, if you could call it that. it was a 50 minute drive with no traffic, roads empty enough for you to drift off in you thoughts. he watches you drive, eyes brightening up a little more everyday. he realised that trying to shield you from the world wasn't going to work out. you need to learn how to be on your own. he needs to learn how to care for you while away.
"i'm sorry," you caught him off guard, observing the curves of your face. he frowns at the unexplained sentence. you glance at him but look back at the road. "for the way i've been acting. for pushing you away. for being too complicated. i know you're trying to help… thank you for staying."
"darling, of course. for better or for worse, remember? i'm never leaving you. we're getting through this, together. and don't you worry about me, i'll be okay when you are too, alright? you're doing great, i can see how much you're working towards it." he holds out a hand for you and you take it, intertwining your fingers. his calloused palms are softer now, courtesy of the months without batman-ing. they still embrace yours entirely and warm the cold tips of your fingers.
"i love you" the sweetness of that feeling dominates your tastebuds and it's almost like the day you started dating. that innocent type of love that consist of the pure enjoyment of each others company. however, your attempt to savour the moment is ruined by a shape in your peripheral eyesight.
"i love you too" bruce's voice is muffled by the anxious thoughts taking over your mind. the panic starts to overflow. he notices your body getting stiff and the wheel looking loose on your hand. your breathing lost it's rhythm to creaking gasps. there's something wrong. your eyes are frozen in a vehicle. he's seen this van before. maybe not this one, but an identical one, in a security camera tape in court. it looks exactly like the one that took you. "baby, hey, hey. i'm right here." you don't pay any mind to the man beside you. you can't, not when your instincts are telling you to run. not when you can feel the gun getting knocked on your head over and over again. bruce is saying something. the tears are blurring your sight. this is too much.
he's calling you screaming at this point, tears are rolling down your cheeks and you still haven't looked away from the van. there's a bump coming up, the car is dangerously fast and you're not driving at all. he goes for the wheel but isn't quick enough. the tires wiggle, going in their own direction. the car changes lanes, getting in the wrong way of the street. another car is coming and the impact isn't light. your head is thrown forwards, the airbag covering your face. the windshield shatters and little pieces of glass get stuck in your hair. the crash isn't too bad, you're both still awake and only the front has been smashed. but you get out hyperventilating, falling onto the ground and weeping.
bruce gets out as well, only a scratch on the forehead. he has to kneel on the dirt to hold you up. for a while, he doesn't say anything. the other driver is standing, phone in the ear. he's also fine. the cars were the only damage. two other drivers stop by, offering help. you wish he could help you, but it seems as if there's something inherently wrong with you.
— depression.
the weeks following the accident were harsh. it took a while to get you believing in recovery again. you still weren't sure. somehow there was press at the site, so pictures of you crying next to a car crash made it to the papers. there's minor commentary online about you faking it for your husbands popularity. most of the netizens feel desperately sorry for you and have painted you to be their new princess diana, the comparison seems wild to you.
you only go online every three days or so, because you can't resist the urge to know what bruce hasn't been telling you. jokes on you, he's actually been a lot more transparent lately. you agreed that the batman would show up to the sentence of edward nashton, to pressure the jury with his presence. it worked and the criminal got life without parole. the lawyers said that your public presence impacted on his trial, as 20 years was the standard. you were just glad he wouldn't do that to anybody else ever again. the case got national and your family from outside the state, that you not-so-kindly kept in the dark, started making contact, victimising you all over again.
but things were getting better, gradually. it had been almost a year and it felt like that chapter of your life was finally being finished. you were trying to get your life back, including your driver's license. it was suspended for a while after the accident, so now you had to submit a bunch of medical records to prove that you were mentally fine to drive again. that's how you found yourself in bruce's home office, searching everywhere for your documents. you could've asked him where he put it, but he had just fallen asleep in the living room and you didn't want to disturb him.
in one of the desk's drawers, you find a folder with the local hospital logo on it. you open it, shuffling through the papers you've seen before. only one stands out, with "ob/gyn" on the top of the sheet. you wonder if there's anything helpful there. your eyes start reading the words one by one, listing the examinations they've done on you. the subject changes abruptly.
the ultrasound analysis reports the miscarriage of an unknown pregnancy to the patient's spouse.
you feel like you're about to throw up. the world starts spinning as you force yourself to continue to read.
the fetus was estimated to be in the development stage of the beginning of the second trimester. the miscarriage was most likely a result of several mechanical trauma. dilation and curettage was performed with the patient in a medically induced coma.
you try to remember to breathe in and breathe out just like dr. quinn taught you. you expect the tears but they don't come out. the panic doesn't come. it's suddenly so quiet. it's not like a hole has been punched through your chest, it's like you have no chest at all. it's like you don't even exist. you somehow sit down, your body does. you feel as if it's moving on it's own and you're just watching from afar. your thoughts sound so distant, so irrelevant. you can only think of the baby that had once been inside of you and you didn't even realised. you didn't have the time to love him. you've had him there, right there, the thing you wanted the most in the world and he was taken from you. everything was taken from you.
if a tree falls on a forest, and there's no one around to hear, does it still make a sound? it felt like your fall was silent.
286 notes · View notes
amberbeach · 1 year
Text
"YOUR PATH IS MY PATH."
Tumblr media
gif belongs to me
When RJ returned to Jungle Karma after being captured by Dai Shi, you were upstairs above the pizza parlour, training to keep your mind occupied while hatching a plan to rescue him. You were startled when he stumbled in. The first thing you noticed was his torn clothes and how exhausted he looked.
Despite the pain and exhaustion weighing him down, seeing you again gave him the strength to smile. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."
"Oh my god, Robbie." You rushed to his side, hands hovering, afraid of touching any injuries.
You wrapped an arm around his waist and walked with him to the bedroom as you asked him about what happened during his capture. RJ left out some details, knowing how worried you would have been the past few days, and he didn't want to worry you further by mentioning his shattered connection to his wolf spirit.
After a shower to freshen up, and an examination for any injuries, you joined the team in the living area. RJ knew you were acutely watching him for any signs he was lying about any pain he was in, so he acted as he did before, and after a few hours when you were listening to his heartbeat as you spoke in bed about what he'd missed, RJ sensed your worries leaving you for the moment, granting you peace to sleep.
While you slept peacefully, his night was more eventful. In the morning he caught a news reporter detailing a supposed animal attack that left people injured and from the claw marks, RJ suspected he was the cause. He had arrived in the early hours of the morning before you had woken, slipping into bed without you noticing, and while the events were cloudy in his mind, RJ wasn't willing to put you or the Rangers at risk.
The parlour was busy that afternoon and Fran had enlisted your help to cook in the kitchen whilst the three Rangers took orders and got customers their drinks and take out their food, keeping the service running smoothly. In the few hours you were gone RJ began to pack a backpack with essentials, believing he could sneak out undetected. However, he had not expected you to come upstairs where you caught him closing the carved box containing his morpher and he quickly replaced the box on the shelf inside the red cupboard, closing the doors. He turned when you spoke and his chest rose and fell with a silent sigh when he saw your expression.
"What are you doing?"
RJ glanced away when he noticed your eyes squint, knowing you could read him better than anyone.
"Were you going to say goodbye?" You continued softly, moving closer. "Of course not." His eyes lifted to meet your gaze when you scoffed and you tilted your head. "I knew something was wrong. I could feel it, but I chose to ignore it because I didn't want to overwhelm you with questions on your first night back." You paused when he sighed. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."
"It's my animal spirit. Ever since Dai Shi attacked me," He held his shoulder, his features portraying the pain he was experiencing since the attack, before continuing, "I can't control my animal form."
"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked quietly, glancing at the wooden floors.
"I didn't want you to worry. And I didn't tell the Rangers because they would lose focus on Dai Shi."
"So you were going to - what? Sneak out when everyone was downstairs?" Your gaze lifted to meet his apologetic stare which only intensified when he saw your tears. "How could you do that? After everything we've gone through - you were just gonna leave?"
"It wouldn't be forever. Just until I learned to control it." RJ explained.
"I can help you."
RJ shook his head, "The Rangers need you now. To be their mentor in my absence."
"If you think I'm letting you go through this alone, then you're wrong." You stepped forward and when he glanced away briefly you knew he was faltering, unable to leave while you were looking at him with nothing but understanding and love that showed through everything you did. "Remember what I told you when I diverted the Masters path they planned for me?"
"Your path is my path." RJ recited.
"And I meant it." You placed a hand on his chest, tilting your head up to hold his gaze. "Let me help you."
RJ lowered his head, slowly nodding as he met your gaze. "I don't want them to know." You nodded in agreement, the Rangers had enough to worry about with Dai Shi who was growing more powerful every day, and their worry for RJ would be a distraction.
You smiled softly at the man you had risked everything for. While the Masters voiced their opinions about your relationship, you and RJ knew you were stronger together than apart and so you left your position at the academy to join him in preparing the Rangers to defeat Dai Shi and you hadn't looked back since.
RJ lowered his shoulder, letting the backpack fall down his arm before allowing it to drop on the floor, and wrapping his arms around you. He closed his eyes when you kissed his cheek, promising that everything would be okay.
And he knew that it would be because he had you by his side.
127 notes · View notes
Text
Don't Touch Her - James Wilson x peds!reader
description: y/n will challenge whatever threat there is to her children, at any consequence to herself. James will always be there to pick up the pieces.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: sexual assault, child sexual assault, mentions of rape, yelling, angst
authors note: I've realised I'm great at writing angst!
Masterlist
REQUESTS OPEN - request here
Tumblr media Tumblr media
House’s pov
I stared at the test in front of me.
Everybody lies.
I held the DNA test in my hand, and I could feel it burn through my skin as I limped my way down to the office of my ‘sister-in-law’.
Knock knock.
“Is that Mrs Wilson in there? I can hear you caring.” I shouted through the wood in hopes of gaining access. The door was flung open. I was met by sunshine itself.
“Mrs Wilson? I thought that was you?” She jabbed. “What can I do for you, House?”
Her face was the picture of innocence, and the smile never left her face despite the witty comment. I worried about her reaction. Usually, I relished in the extent of human outbursts, wondering how far I could push them so long as the consequences never fell on me. But this didn’t feel right. This wasn’t going to be fun. I only prayed I could get to Wilson fast enough before these consequences ricocheted back on to her.
She widened her eyes in a silent question of why I was here. Her eyes flitted down to the piece of paper in my hand.
“Well come on, what medical supervillain are you going to brag about curing to me now?”
“Actually, this isn’t my patient. It’s yours.”
She scoffed at my ambiguity and proceeded to take the paper from my hands.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She giggled at the joke she assumed I was trying to make. But my face revealed the truth. When she received no further taunt or clever wordplay her smile dropped. Without much further thought she practically tore the paper trying to unfold it. Her eyes danced across the words on the page and each word took a little bit more life from her face each time.
In a flash she had exited her doorframe and had unceremoniously crashed into my shoulder. I couldn’t even bring myself to mock her for ‘injuring a cripple’ because as I watched her frame run further down the hospital hallway I had more important things on my mind. Primarily, protecting her from herself. And there was only one person I needed for that.
I limped down a few more doors and finally barged into the one office I needed. Wilson turned away from the new photo he was hanging on his wall. It was him and y/n at the beach.
“Please, come in. Have a seat. Thank you for knocking.” He mocked but I remained unmoved. “You’re not taunting back?” His brows furrowed at the abnormality. “Why are you here?”
I looked to my feet, suddenly afraid of my friend’s reaction.
“Your girlfriend is about to do something incredibly brave and incredibly stupid.”
Wilson carefully removed the nail and placed the picture neatly back on his desk. His eyes never met mine until he said.
“Where is she?”
Your pov
Flames burned my soul, and my heart was filled with anguish. I flew down the hallway. People jumped out of the way when they saw my sunny disposition replaced by hard stone. Normally, I didn’t like feeling like an imposition in the hospital. I would run towards a patients room when they’re seizing whilst simultaneously apologising to anyone who moved out of the way for me. Yet here I was, a torpedo through a sea of colleagues.
I made it. Room 309. The doors creaked at the weight of my push. A mother and father sit at their daughters bedside. 10 years old, in for a heart attack. The two parents turned towards me as their daughter remained peaceful and sedated. I was thankful, as the words that were about to spew out of my mouth were not for young ears. I held up the paper and presented it in front of them like a detective who just cracked the case.
“Three days ago, your daughter was brought in for a heart attack. Because of her extremely young age I decided to keep her in for observation so I could come up with a diagnosis for a myocardial infarction in a 10-year-old girl. I was coming up blank and eventually I was going to have to release her back into your care, but I was terrified. Terrified that if I let you go, I’d be dooming your daughter to a disease I missed. That was until today when I found out that your daughters heart attack was brought on by a short but severe onslaught of emotional distress.” At this point the two parents had closed in on me, eager to hear my findings. At this the mother became confused and sought answers amongst her tears. The father remained quiet.
“Emotional distress-I don’t—I don’t understand? Nothing happened before. We would---I would’ve known?”
I opened my mouth to speak but it just wouldn’t come out as my eyes fell on the little girls sleeping form. My eyes drew in and I decided to merely hand the mother the results which I had been given moments ago. She took them from me with shaky hands. I turned to face the man to the side of me.
“The police are on their way.” A loud shriek exploded from Mrs Hart as the words on the page resonated in her already fragile mind. I stared him down. “I don’t suggest running.”
I made my way to exit the room, preparing to actually call the police but also because, as selfish as it was, I couldn’t be subjected to that level of despair any longer. The screams of a mother learning about her child’s pain were enough. However, I was harshly ripped away from the door.
“What the fuck do you mean by that.” Mr Hart had my arm in an iron grip.
“I think you know. And now, so does your wife.” I tried to pry myself free, but he was too strong, and I was thrown up against the wall.
“What are you insinuating!”
“She had vaginal tearing, and her 10-year-old uterus was filled with semen. Semen that was just confirmed as having your DNA from a test which your wife is now holding the results of. Along with a comprehensive list of the injuries you subjected your daughter’s body to.”
I gained new strength and shoved the significantly taller male away from my body.
“My professional opinion is that when you crept into your daughters room that night and started subjecting her to your own examinations, the extreme emotional distress caused her body to shut down and brought on a heart attack. At least we now have the cure, no more playtime with daddy.”
“YOU BITCH!”
He lunged for my throat but not before I fled the room. I should have ran; found James or House or anyone. That would have been the smart thing to do. But I just couldn’t. This man disgusted me, and he needed to feel it. I needed to say it. The police would deal with him later, but I needed to get a few shots in first. I turned back to face him.
“That little girl in there, she depends on you because she has no one else. She trusts you to take care of her and you treat her like that. Every day I take in children, and I work to save them and I work to protect them. Every day I do my job as best as I can only for there to be people like you who take the innocence of a child and control it for their own perverted needs.”
Now he was fuming, and he stalked towards me. A lion to its prey. My resolve began to crumble, my bravery slowly lacking. He towered over my body, and I suddenly felt the fear that his little girl felt every night when daddy came in to her room. His face was confident, but his body held an anger.
“You’re lying.” His face was now inches away from mine. His hot breath washed over my face, and I began to shrink into my body.
“I have the proof. I have medical proof.” I whispered, my eyes struggling to hold his firm gaze
“Papers can go missing. It happens.” As he spoke his tainted fingers found a new resting point in my hair as they slowly began to stroke through my locks. I shuddered at the action that I ordinarily found so much comfort in. I remembered the nights where I would lie on James’ chest as he ran his fingers through my hair. The memory couldn’t save me from the situation I currently found myself in. As I went to speak I could feel the words crawling back in my throat. ‘Don’t antagonise. Play along. Wait for someone. He’s stronger. He’s bigger.’ But these inner thoughts were overshadowed and my mind replayed the first moment that little girl walked into my care.
“Enjoy your last moments of freedom.”
“I’m not going to prison.” He smirked at this, concocting a plan of escape. I had to say it.
“Really? I hear it’s so much fun for kiddy touchers.” In my peripheral I saw his hands fly up to grip my neck. I gasped. But before I could even feel his icy touch around my throat, he was ripped away from me and his back hit the floor in a matter of seconds.
“Don’t ever touch her.” James stood over his body. Just looking at him I felt my racing heart slow. He wasn’t wearing his lab coat, only his shirt and tie with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He panted from the long run from his office. Once he composed himself his professional nature returned.
“Officers, please escort Mr Hart off the premises. I believe Dr Y/l/n and Dr House have the medical proof of the sexual assault of a minor along with the DNA evidence to prove Mr Harts involvement.” The two police officers, who had obviously been called, but not by me, held Mr Hart by his arms as they hoisted him up off the floor. They secured the handcuffs around his wrist whilst reading him his Miranda Rights. “Whilst you’re there you can also add the physical assault of Dr y/l/n to his list of accusations.”
As he spoke, James approached me. At this point, I realised I hadn’t moved since the confrontation. James noticed my thousand-yard stare and approached me like how one would handle a skittish horse. He carefully rolled up the sleeves of my lab coat and he saw the beginnings of a bruise where his hands had gripped me.
I uttered a less than believable, “I’m fine.” Despite the lump in my throat.
His arms eventually wrapped around me, and I sunk into his embrace. He placed a gentle kiss onto my hair. I allowed myself to sink into him more. My head rested on his heart and the gentle thud offered me a consistent beat to focus on.
“How did you know?” My once strong voice came out as a whimper. He only needed to utter the word.
“House.” I felt a warmth spread through my heart at that. He knew. Somehow, he’d known. And James had known. And he knew how to take care of me.
“I don’t need you to defend me.” I spoke, uncertainly, into his chest.
“I know.” James softly said as he stroked my hair and brushed his thumb against the exposed skin of my waist.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He punctuated his sentence with the lightest kiss to my lips. As he retreated, I leaned in to seek him out again and he answered with another, deeper kiss.
We stayed there for a while. Neither of us speaking but our breaths saying everything for us. In that moment, despite what my words said, I had needed him and now, more than ever, I needed him to save me from myself. From the spiralling thoughts that flooded my head ready to push me down further and further. Eventually we separated but our intertwined hands meant I could still make sure he was there, and he wasn’t going to leave. He led me down the corridor, in the direction of his office rather than mine.
“What did you tell the police, when you called them? I was so blinded; I couldn’t even think about following procedure.”
“I didn’t call them. House did. Seconds after he got the results.”
We made it to his office where I remained for the rest of the day. James explained what happened to Cuddy and she allowed me the rest of the day off. James offered to drive me home but, honestly, there was nowhere I wanted to be, nowhere I felt safer than in his arms. So, he sighed and pushed out his chair in a silent allowance. I curled up on his lap as he sat and filled out forms. His left hand wrote as his right gently ran up and down my thighs. We didn’t need to speak; we were just there.
---
Tumblr media
575 notes · View notes
prettyyoungandbored · 3 months
Text
First Date - Dr. James Wilson
Pairing: Dr. James Wilson x Fem!OC
Summary: Takes place during S.1, Ep.20. Before his date with Cameron, House gets advice from both Wilson and his wife.
Warnings: Certain lines are directly from the show so credit goes to the writer. There is also mentions of a panic attack.
Tumblr media
A knock on House’s front door drew both House and Wilson’s attention. House made his way over.
“You made her come here?” Wilson asked.
House opened the door to find Odette Wilson standing there. She scrunched her nose, head cocking back.
“At least put in a little more effort and add a tie,” she commented.
House turned to Wilson. “Number Three is here.”
Odette pat his arm as she made her way inside. Wilson sat up on the couch.
“Honey, what’re you doing here?” he asked.
She gave him a peck on the cheek. “House going on a date with Cameron? I’m not missing this.”
She threw off her coat, putting it on the arm of the couch as she took a seat beside Wilson on the couch.
“You told her?” House asked Wilson.
“Cameron told me,” Odette corrected. “She sounded very excited about it.”
“So why aren’t you at her place bothering her?”
“Because I like bothering you. Also, it wouldn’t kill you to get advice from a woman you actually tolerate.”
Wilson turned to House. “She has a point.”
Wilson then laid down, resting his head on his wife’s lap. Her hand carded through his perfect brunette hair, her nails gently scratching his head and easing any leftover tension or stress from work.
She handed him the newspaper lying on the table before picking up a random magazine.
“So, what wisdom can you thrust upon me, Number Three?” House asked as he opened his closet door, which revealed a mirror hung on the back of the door. “Remind me, did Wilson tell you about the wives that came before you on your first date?”
“Funny enough he saved it for the third date,” she recalled. “That said, exes are off the table when it comes to first date conversation.”
“Then what else do we talk about?” he asked as he reached for a red tie.
“Literally anything else,” she said. “It is not that hard.”
Wilson looked up at and noticed House’s tie.
“The wide side’s too short. You’re gonna look like Lou Costello,” he remarked.
Despite his attempts to tie it, he found himself failing.
“This is a mistake. I don’t know how to have casual conversation,” House said.
Odette got up, gently moving Wilson off her lap. She walked over to House and held out her hand.
“Give me the tie,” she said. “I can pre-tie it so all you have to do is just tighten.”
“Do I look like a child to you?” House snapped.
Her hazel eyes glared at him. “Give me the fucking tie, House.”
He rolled his eyes, handing the red fabric to her. As she started to work on the tie, she continued, “House, casual conversations are not that hard. You-.”
House cut her off. “You think you’re talking about one thing, and either you are and it’s incredibly boring, or you’re not because it’s subtext and you need a decoder ring.”
“You sound awfully nervous for a date you say you don’t want to go on,” Odette remarked.
“I’m not nervous. I have been on a date.”
“Not since disco died,” Wilson commented.
Odette snorted as she presented house with the tie. “Put it over your head and tighten it.”
He took it from her and made his way back to the mirror. He put the tie over his head.
Wilson continued. “Comment on her shoes, her earrings, and then move on to D.H.A.”
Odette, leaning on the wall, cracked a smile as House turned to Wilson for clarification.
“Her dreams, hopes, and aspirations. Trust me. Panty peeler.”
House eyed Odette for confirmation. She nodded her head, a slightly embarrassed smile played out on her lips.
“Oh, and if you need condoms, I’ve got some,” Wilson chimed in again. “Got them from a drug rep. They’ve got antibiotics built in, somehow.”
House moved into the kitchen. “I should cancel.”
Wilson and Odette eyed each other before quickly heading into the kitchen together.
“Don’t cancel on her,” Wilson said.
“I’ve got a patient in surgery tomorrow.”
“And if you were a surgeon, that would actually matter.”
Odette then chimed in. “I almost cancelled on Wilson and I’s first date.”
The two men looked at her, stunned by how casually she admitted it.
“You did?” Wilson asked, his face softened.
“Yeah, I had a panic attack about the date and I nearly cancelled,” she said. “I was so terrified and stressed that I would mess it up. I was so attracted to you and I had a history of messing things up on dates. I figured I’d mess up with you and the thought of that killed me. I was at work and I could feel it building up during a session with a client. Once they left I started hyperventilating. The front desk receptionist almost called 911 but the other therapist in the building came in and talked me down. She asked me if I really wanted to cancel and I said ‘no.’ So, I didn’t.”
House rolled his eyes in disgust.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” Wilson asked.
“I figured it didn’t matter,” she said with a shrug. “Besides, it all worked out.”
He threw his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead. “It certainly did.”
The sound of the fridge opened drew the couple’s attention back to House who grabbed something out of it. Wilson went to say something when House revealed a corsage in a plastic case.
“This is lame, isn’t it?” House asked, cringing a bit.
Wilson and Odette smiled.
“I think she likes lame,” Wilson esponded.
==========================
As Wilson and Odette watched House speed off on his motorbike, Odette put a hand on Wilson’s back.
“Should we go to the restaurant and spy on House and Cameron?” she asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
He squinted, pretending to think for a moment. “I actually have a better idea. Let’s go home and recreate the end of our second date.”
She hummed in delight. “That was fun. Definitely in my top three.”
“Top three of what?”
“Our sex adventures.”
His eyes widened. “You rank them?!”
“Oh don’t act like you don’t do the same thing.”
“Dare I ask what number one is?”
“Our wedding night.”
He grinned at the memory. “That was a great night.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pocket. “If I had told you about my ex wives on our first date, would you have gone on a second date with me?”
She nodded. “I would’ve considered it a bold move. But you also were so open and honest and I appreciated it. Made me feel like you actually wanted to be with me.”
“I’ve wanted to be with you since our first date. Why do you think I was so quick to make that second date?”
She licked her lip and glanced at House’s apartment. “Wanna recreate our second date in House’s bed?”
87 notes · View notes
rempitcore · 13 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
my mind was plagued. help me (also this is me furthering my teddy bear wilson propaganda)
48 notes · View notes
sarcasstic-jpmvr · 10 months
Text
wait so NO ONE was gonna TELL me that WILSON buying HOUSE a fucking ORGAN was CANON????
I WAS SITTING IN FRONT OF MY TELLIE
SLACK JAWED
WATCHING HOUSE PLAY SOME FANCY BLUES
ON THE ORGAN
THAT WILSON BOUGHT HIM
AFTER I HAD READ A FANFIC WHERE THAT HAPPENED
I didn’t think it could get any gayer
BUT IT FUKCING DID Y’ALL
aAAAAAhhHhhHagHhsbfigenbaifbgoabavdiovfbi
171 notes · View notes
house-md-imagines · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
275 notes · View notes