will die on this hill. the dad best friend fanfics that go into detail about how they have known you since your were 4 are disgusting and borderline disturbing. like your talking about having sex with a girl you literally watched grow up. ew. it’s creepy. like… no.
Derek grabbed a fistful of hair, drawing your head up to watch him as he defiled you. He’s been craving this for week, months— day after day there’s an event he can’t control that’s led to time spent away from you.
His teeth left red hickeys as he dragged his lips across your collarbone, marking you up on purpose. Telling everyone youre his and his only.
“God, fuck—“ he moaned as his hips starting giving shorter, deeper strokes. Your lips let out a string of soft, short whines as he hit the spot every last thrust. “All I’ve wanted is to fuck you,” he moaned as his hand left your hair and steadied onto and gripped your hips.
But suddenly, there was a beep.
Derek picked up the pager, and stared at it, still thrusting inside of you.
“If you gotta go Der, it’s okay,” you moaned out, bummed. All you’ve been thinking about is being used by him and you’ve both been so busy.
He ignored you, simply continuing his pace.
“Der, really—“
His hand clamped over your mouth. “It’s not dire. I’m in control. I’m going to finish fucking you first,” he growled into your ear, keeping the hand over your mouth as you continued to moan and whine helplessly.
His pace, became faster and shorter, holding onto your shoulders for support. As your walls tightened around his cock, he moaned out your name before thrusting in one last time, releasing inside of you.
Still dazed, you laid on the on-call bed half naked with his cum dripping out of you.
He hopped out of the bed, redressing himself quickly.
“I’m not letting a pager control me,” he said harshly before kissing you one last time, leaving the sex linger in the air.
"The Real Power in the Room" - Derek Shepherd x Quiet but Commanding Head of the Hospital Reader
Summary: Derek’s used to being in charge—until he meets the one woman who doesn’t need to raise her voice to own the room.
⸻
Seattle Grace had seen its fair share of egos. But yours didn’t announce itself.
It arrived.
You didn’t walk into rooms—you occupied them. Quietly. Deliberately. As if you’d already been there. As if the air was yours, and the rest of them were just breathing borrowed oxygen.
Derek Shepherd had weathered five department heads, three hospital chiefs, and more budget meetings than he cared to count. But you? You were different. And that unsettled him.
Made him curious, too.
You didn’t interrupt as he made his pitch for surgical expansion—he spoke uninterrupted, unchallenged, his voice filling the silence with polished numbers and self-assured logic. You made no comment. No shift in posture. Barely even blinked.
He was used to commanding rooms. But right now? He wasn’t sure he even held your attention.
“I think the data speaks for itself,” he said, tone clipped just enough to betray his irritation. “Cutting surgical expansion now would be—frankly—regressive.”
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was tactical.
Finally, you blinked. Then nodded, once.
“It’s a good presentation.”
His shoulders dropped, barely perceptible.
“But not a necessary one.”
The words landed like a scalpel.
“…Excuse me?”
You rose from your chair with calm precision. Every movement efficient. Controlled. As if the entire room operated within your structure.
“I approved the surgical budget yesterday,” you said, walking to the floor-to-ceiling window. The Seattle skyline stretched out beyond the glass—washed in steel and fog. “You’re not here to win a fight, Dr. Shepherd. You’re here because I wanted to see how you behave when you think you’re winning one.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
You turned back toward him.
“You’re talented,” you said. “But your instinct to persuade me told me something important.” A beat. “Either you don’t trust my decision-making… or you needed to hear yourself say it.”
You walked back to the table.
“Which is it?”
He straightened. “I believe in what we’re doing. That’s not ego.”
You studied him. Eyes steady. Unflinching.
“You don’t have to name it ego,” you said. “You live in it. But I’m not here to dismantle you. I just expect you to recognize who’s actually making the decisions.”
Derek met your gaze.
“Then why bring me in at all?”
Your lips curved in a quiet half-smile. Not kind. Not cruel. Just… knowing.
“Because I enjoy watching someone try.”
⸻
It started with a glance.
You were coming out of a neurology consult—clipboard in one hand, phone in the other—when Derek saw you again. Weeks had passed since the meeting. No emails. No follow-up.
But you’d been there. Always present. Always watching.
You moved through the hospital like a cold current—quiet, strong, and entirely unbothered by what swirled around you. People stepped aside when you passed. Residents lowered their voices when your heels clicked down the hall.
When the elevator doors opened, you stepped in alone.
Derek followed without thinking.
“Dr. Shepherd,” you said with a polite nod. Cool. Controlled. Minimal acknowledgment.
He stood beside you. Not close. But close enough.
“You like being untouchable,” he said suddenly, eyes fixed on the numbers ticking above the door.
You didn’t look at him. “I don’t need to be liked.”
“That’s not what I said.”
The elevator hummed. Floor six ticked past.
“I don’t care about the game,” you said. “Only the outcome.”
“You don’t think people perform better when they trust you?”
This time, you turned.
“I don’t need their trust,” you said. “I need their results.”
The air thickened.
Then you stepped forward—just half a step. Just enough for him to catch the clean, sterile trace of your perfume. Something like linen. Something metallic underneath.
“Do you need people to like you, Dr. Shepherd?” you asked.
He didn’t answer.
You already knew.
The elevator chimed. You stepped off.
And Derek didn’t move for a full five seconds.
⸻
It was a high-risk craniotomy. One of those line-between-miracle-and-disaster surgeries.
Derek was locked in—hands steady, focus absolute. The nurses worked like clockwork. The tension buzzed beneath the surface.
And you were watching.
From the gallery.
Leaning against the glass. Arms crossed. Expression unreadable. But he felt it—that shift in gravity that happened when you were in the room, even from two floors up.
You weren’t observing. You were evaluating.
After the surgery, Derek stepped out of the scrub room, adrenaline still trailing his spine.
You were already waiting.
Clipboard in hand.
“You handled the bleed well,” you said evenly. “But your right-hand suture was two seconds late.”
He blinked. “Didn’t realize we were timing my hands now.”
“We time everything,” you replied. “When lives are involved, two seconds isn’t a detail. It’s a margin.”
He stiffened.
Then you stepped in. Just slightly. Barely close. But enough to be felt.
“You’re brilliant, Dr. Shepherd,” you said, voice low. “But brilliance without discipline is just luck. And I don’t let this hospital run on luck.”
Then you walked away.
And Derek stood there, feeling like he’d just been struck by something he hadn’t seen coming—something quiet. Steady. Inevitable.
⸻
The hospital had fallen into its nighttime hush. Most staff gone. Lights dimmed.
Derek stayed late, reviewing charts.
He didn’t expect your office light to still be on.
The door was slightly open.
He knocked once, lightly.
“Come in.”
You didn’t look up. You were writing in a leather binder, pen moving cleanly across the page. Your coat hung off the chair. Sleeves rolled. Hair loose. The image stripped down. Human.
Real.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Derek said as he stepped inside.
You looked up, mildly. “Working.”
He nodded toward the desk. “Always?”
“Always.”
He approached slowly.
“You don’t let people in often,” he said softly.
“I don’t need to.”
“Not even to be understood?”
You glanced at him.
“Being understood is dangerous,” you said. “It creates expectation. Vulnerability. Debt.”
He studied you.
“Maybe I want to understand you.”
A pause. A long one.
“Why?”
“I don’t know yet.”
You held his gaze.
You didn’t lean forward. Didn’t smile. Didn’t soften.
You simply let him see. What you allowed. No more.
“I won’t be someone you fix,” you said. “And I don’t bend just because someone flashes charm.”
He stepped a little closer, the air between you shifting.
“I’m not trying to fix you,” he murmured. “I want to learn what makes you unbreakable.”
You were still. Then:
“You’re still assuming I am.”
Silence.
And then—for the first time—you broke eye contact first.
You closed your folder. Rose from your chair. Brushed past him. Your fingers just grazed his wrist.
Barely there. But he felt it.
“I don’t offer myself in pieces,” you said at the door. “If you want something from me, understand this: it comes whole. And it comes slow.”
Hi, can u do please a derek shepherd imagine where y/n is pregnant and and she gets involved in an accident (the sarebbe accident of callie)
All I See Is You
Pairing: Derek Shepherd x Pregnant!Reader
Warnings: Angst & Hurt/Comfort | Based on Callie’s Car Crash Scene.
MASTERLIST
-------
The call came during surgery.
Derek was in the OR, hands deep in a patient’s brain, when Meredith burst in — ungloved, eyes wide with terror.
“Derek,” she breathed. “It’s Y/N. There’s been an accident. A bad one.”
The scalpel slipped from his fingers.
—
When he got to the ER, time blurred.
You were barely conscious, blood staining your clothes, your face pale against the chaos. April was applying pressure to your abdomen, shouting orders. Owen and Bailey hovered nearby. Arizona was already assessing the fetal heart rate. Everything was moving too fast — and not fast enough.
“Her BP’s dropping!”
“She’s crashing, we need to move now—”
“Where’s Derek?” you whispered, dazed, as the gurney wheeled down the hallway.
“I’m here,” he choked out, rushing beside you, gripping your hand. “I’m here, baby, I’m right here.”
You tried to smile. “I’m scared, Derek.”
“No. No, you don’t get to be scared. You’re okay. You and the baby — you’re both gonna be okay.”
You let out a broken breath. “Promise?”
He leaned in and kissed your forehead, hard. “I promise. You hold on, you hear me? You hold on.”
—
Hours passed.
Derek paced, blood still on his scrubs, refusing to sit. His mind looped through every possible worst-case scenario, every scan he hadn’t seen, every second he wasn’t by your side in that car.
Meredith stood beside him quietly.
“She’s strong,” she said.
He replied numbly. “So was every patient I ever lost.”
Arizona came out first. “The baby’s stable. We delivered early — NICU has her. They’re tiny but fighting.”
Derek’s knees almost gave out.
Bailey followed. “We stopped the bleeding. She has a long road ahead, but she made it through surgery. She’s in recovery now.”
He didn’t wait for permission. He ran.
—
You looked so fragile, hooked up to machines, IVs in both arms, monitors beeping steadily.
But you were alive.
He sat beside you and gently took your hand, pressing it to his lips, his voice breaking as he whispered, “I thought I lost you.”
You stirred slightly, eyes fluttering open. “Hey…”
“You scared the hell out of me,” he said, brushing your hair back. “You and the little one.”
“The baby…?”
“Is safe. You both are.” He kissed your hand again, fiercely. “Don’t ever do that again. You don’t get to leave me. Not you.”
You gave him a tired smile. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
He exhaled shakily and pressed his forehead to yours. “Good. Because I need you. More than anything.”
Hii I’m not sure if your still taking requests but if you are could you write a mark sloan x reader which involves him protecting reader from something idk is that makes sense 🫶
Hiii! Yes ofc! Hope you like it!! 🫂✨🧚
Requests are open!!
[An unlucky day]
Being a doctor has never been easy. Not only because of everything that had to be studied, the long hours of work, the mistreatment of superiors, or the poor treatment of patients...for you, the most difficult and annoying thing about all of this were the drugged or drunk patients. Most of them did not know where they were or they forgot it all the time, they did not know why they had arrived at the hospital or they deeply denied having consumed anything although their studies will confirm it.They blamed the perfumes, the chocolates that their grandmothers had given them and they didn't know they had alcohol in them, or they tried to make excuses like birthdays, weddings, New Year's Eve or Christmas.
Your 42-hour shift was about to end, there were only 4 hours left and you could return to your comfortable bed. But of course those hours would not be peaceful. It was as if the universe knew you were about to leave, that it decided to send you a bunch of patients together.
"Car crash. Two cars involved. One of the drivers was under drugs. You two, come with me." Bailey said, obviously pointing at you and another resident.
You tried not to snort too hard, you knew that if Bailey noticed, every time a case like this came up, she would call you just because she knows it bothered you.
The ambulance arrived at the same time you finished putting on your gloves. The doors opened quickly and the nurses took out a man in his 50s, unconscious, with a wound on his arm and a couple of bruises and cuts on his face. Bailey, seeing that the man was not in life-or-death conditions, pointed a finger at you, indicating that the patient was yours.
The nurses helped you take him to a more private room, just as another nurse entered.
"Thank you very much, I can so ir alone from here. Could you call Dr. Sloan? His face has a couple of bruises that I want him to see." I asked the nurse who nodded quickly and left the room next to the stretcher bearer, leaving me alone with the patient.
You began to prepare your things, turn on the machines and other things, turning your back to the patient.
And that was the worst thing that you could do.
While you were preparing the needle with tranquilizer to give it to the patient, the man had woken up. And not in the best conditions. He was under substances, in a place he didn't know, tied to a stretcher, with his entire body in pain, with a possible concussion and with someone who was about to prick his arm with something he had no idea what it was.
"Oh-" You said when you saw the he had woken up. But before you could say anything, the man let go of the stretcher and hit your hand, causing the needle to fall to the floor.
"Who the hell are you! Where I am? Let me out!" He screamed as he tried to free himself from his other restraints.
"Sir...calm please, you are in a hospital, you-"
"NO! YOU'RE LYING, YOU DAMN BITCH!" The man yelled before he could completely let go.
When you saw that the man got up from the stretcher, you took advantage of the fact that he was distracted and ran towards the door. Just as your hand had grabbed the door handle, the man grabbed your hair, pulling it back at the same time as you opened the door.
Luckily for you, when the door opened, the first thing you saw was Mark's face.
"Let me out! Let me out or I swear I'll kill them!" The man shouted in your ear as his other arm wrapped around your neck.
The nurse behind Mark quickly ran off in search of more help, as Mark's face contorted on fury.
"Let them go now! You're in a hospital, you can't do these things. Let them go now if you don't want us to call the police." Mark said with a strong voice. Although the reality was that the police would come anyway to arrest him for driving under the influence.
"T-the po-police..." The man said as he backed away. His arm was beginning to let go of you and when Mark noticed it too, he grabbed your arm quickly, pulling you away from the man.
Mark quickly put you behind him. He was much taller and bigger than you, so you had been completely hidden behind him, seeing his big back. The man started screaming again, this time running towards us. Mark was backing away with his hands at your sides, trying to protect you from the man who was trying to grab you again. But the man was able to take Mark's robe.
Seeing how the man and Mark were pulling, you ran to the table, took a needle and filled it with a tranquilizer. once Once you knew it was enough to put the patient to sleep for a few hours, you quickly injected it into his shoulder.
The man turned around quickly, hitting you in the face, causing you to fall sitting on the floor. And just as Mark was about to hit him back, hospital security ran in, arresting the patient.
Once they had him grabbed, and pulled away from the room, Mark quickly approached you, crouching down next to you.
"Are you okay? Did he hurt you? What hurts? That fucking son of a bit-" He said as he watched your nose begin to bleed.
"Mark!" You shouted to interrupt him. "I'm fine, really...and you?"
"Your nose is bleeding, probably broken, and your eye is black. Don't tell me you're fine, that bastard ruined your face..." He said seriously as he took a cotton ball and put it on your nose.
"But luckily I have you to fix it, right?" I said while smiling, trying to get him to relax.
"Of course darling..."
__________________________________
I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if something is written wrong, English is not my first language! But let me know!
The hospital was alive with the usual chaos—code blues, nurses shouting orders, pagers beeping at an ungodly frequency. You barely had time to breathe between surgeries, but something had felt... off all day. Nothing major, just a weird sort of lightheadedness and a queasy sensation in your stomach. You brushed it off. Too much coffee, not enough food.
Christina was the first to notice.
"You look like crap," she stated bluntly, arms crossed.
"Wow, thank you. Exactly what I needed today," you shot back, rubbing your forehead.
"Seriously, are you okay?" she pressed, eyeing you suspiciously.
"I'm fine," you lied, waving her off before she could dig further.
Unfortunately, you didn’t get much time to dwell on your body’s betrayal because Meredith was currently being chewed out by a group of rich, entitled family members at the nurse’s station.
"I don’t care who you are," Meredith’s voice was strained but controlled. "That doesn’t mean you get to threaten the staff."
"Do you even know who you’re talking to?" one of them scoffed, crossing their arms.
"Yeah, some overprivileged brat with no patience," you muttered under your breath before stepping in. "Dr. Grey, I got this," you said, offering her an easy way out.
At the nurse’s station, Mark, Christina, and Karev had front-row seats.
"This is going to be good," Mark muttered, leaning forward.
"Five bucks says she makes them cry," Karev smirked.
"I’m not betting against that," Christina replied, intrigued.
Derek, who was nearby writing charts, wasn’t paying them much attention. Instead, he was half-listening to your voice, a small smile tugging at his lips. He always admired how you could handle people—difficult people—with a patience he didn’t have.
But as you tried to reason with the nightmare family, that strange feeling intensified. Your vision swam, the words coming out of the family members' mouths turning to white noise. And then—nothing.
Meredith gasped as you suddenly collapsed, catching you just in time.
"Oh my god—[Y/N]!"
Christina and Karev bolted from the nurse’s station, nearly knocking over a med cart.
Derek, confused by Christina’s uncharacteristic urgency, finally looked up—and his heart stopped.
You were unconscious, cradled in Meredith’s arms.
Everything else became background noise as he sprinted over.
"[Y/N]—Hey—baby, hey, wake up—" His hands hovered over you, panic clear in his voice.
"Somebody get a gurney!" Christina barked.
Mark, despite being concerned, muttered, "Damn, I've never seen Derek run that fast."
"Shut up, Sloan," Christina snapped.
You were whisked into an exam room, with Derek, Meredith, and Christina hovering until Bailey physically pushed them away.
"You all need to step back before I start throwing punches," Bailey warned, snapping on gloves. "You’re too close to this."
Derek reluctantly took a step back, running a hand through his hair while the others exchanged worried glances.
After a series of tests, Bailey finally turned to you with her usual no-nonsense attitude.
"Well, congratulations. You’re pregnant."
The room went silent.
Your jaw dropped. "I’m what?"
Derek blinked. Then blinked again. Then… nothing. His brain completely short-circuited.
"Did she just say—?" Karev started.
"Yep," Mark confirmed, smirking.
Christina stared at Derek, who still hadn’t moved. "Uh… Shepherd.exe has stopped working."
Meredith waved a hand in front of Derek’s face. No response.
Bailey sighed, rolling her eyes. "Lord, somebody reboot him before he falls over."
You, still in shock, turned to look at Derek. "Derek?"
Finally, his brain seemed to reconnect. His blue eyes met yours, wide with disbelief before softening into something unreadable. Then, a slow, amazed smile spread across his face.
"We’re having a baby?" he whispered, like he couldn’t quite believe it.
You nodded, still dazed. "Apparently."
Mark clapped a hand on Derek’s shoulder. "Congrats, Daddy Shepherd. Hope you’re ready for no sleep ever again."
Derek ignored him, still staring at you like you were the most incredible thing in the world.
And maybe, just maybe, this was the best kind of unexpected news.
