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elikajinnie · 2 days ago

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Hi!!! Can you do the enhypen promo 2 and 5 with jungwon?? Down bad bff and oblivious reader? Thank youu!💙

P: Bff!Jungwon X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor Angst, Confessions, you are oblivious, won is desperate, some jealousy.

Synopsis: Jungwon has always been content being your best friend—at least, that’s what he tells himself. In reality, he’s been hopelessly in love with you for years, too afraid to risk what you have. But with Valentine's Day around the corner and whispers of other guys planning to ask you out, he decides it’s now or never. Instead of a direct confession, he drops small hints that should make it obvious. Should. Because somehow, you remain utterly oblivious.

a/n: I was supposed to post this on Valentine’s Day… but surprise, surprise—I ended up working all day. So here’s a (very) late Valentine’s Day fic! Sorry for the delay! special thanks to @cafekitsune for the divider! <3

2. "You’re dangerous, you know that? Every time you smile, I forget how to breathe." 5. "You don’t even realize what you do to me, do you?"

Jungwon had always loved being around friends—there was nothing he enjoyed more than having fun with the people he trusted and cared for. But as much as he liked it, there was one thing he loved beyond all else: being with his best friend.

Being with you.

You were everything he was grateful to have in his life. Smart, kind, and effortlessly fun. But also completely, hopelessly oblivious.

Oblivious to the way his gaze lingered a little too long when you laughed. Oblivious to the way his heart raced when you leaned against him, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. Oblivious to the fact that, out of everyone in a crowded room, his world only seemed to orbit around you.

He wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it was the late-night study sessions when you fell asleep on his shoulder, or the way you always remembered the little things about him—his favorite drink, the songs he hummed absentmindedly, the way he tapped his fingers when he was nervous. Or maybe it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for him to realize.

And now, here he was, trapped in a cycle of wanting more but never daring to ruin what he already had. Because you—his best friend—were the one thing he could never risk losing.

So, he stayed quiet. Kept his feelings tucked away behind playful smiles and casual touches that meant everything to him but nothing to you.

Because if you never noticed, then maybe he’d never have to face the truth.

The truth that his heart ached in ways he couldn’t explain. That every moment with you felt like a dream he was terrified to wake up from. That he had memorized the way you spoke, the way you smiled, the way you existed so effortlessly in his world, completely unaware of how deeply he had fallen.

And yet, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, the truth had a way of creeping in. In the quiet moments when his name left your lips too softly, in the fleeting touches that sent sparks through his veins, in the nights he lay awake replaying every interaction, wondering if—just maybe—you felt it too.

But you didn’t, did you?

You still looked at him the same way you always had, like he was your best friend, your safe place, your person. But never anything more. And maybe that should’ve been enough.

Maybe it had to be.

Because the alternative? The risk of losing you altogether? That was a fate he wasn’t sure he could handle.

So he swallowed the words threatening to spill from his lips. He buried the longing deep within his chest. He convinced himself that being your best friend was enough.

Even if it meant breaking his own heart a little more each day.

But now, with Valentine’s Day coming up so soon, it had become a problem for him.

Jungwon had always been good at keeping his feelings in check, at pretending that being just friends was enough. But Valentine’s Day was different. It wasn’t just another day—it was a reminder. A reminder that he wasn’t the one you were looking at with hearts in your eyes. That someone else could sweep in, buy you flowers, and call you theirs while he sat on the sidelines, pretending it didn’t hurt.

And the worst part? You weren’t even thinking about him.

You had been talking about Valentine’s Day for days now—who might ask you out, what kind of date you’d like, what flowers you preferred. Every time you spoke about it, excitement lacing your voice, Jungwon could only smile and nod, pushing down the ugly twist of jealousy in his chest.

“Maybe I won’t get anything this year,” you had joked one afternoon, twirling a pen between your fingers. “Guess I should start preparing myself for a lonely Valentine’s Day.”

Jungwon had almost laughed at how absurd that sounded. You, alone? Impossible. If anything, there were probably a handful of people already planning to confess to you.

And yet, for a brief second, he let himself imagine what it would be like if you were his. If he could be the one to show up at your doorstep with flowers, the one you looked at like he was your whole world.

But that wasn’t reality.

Reality was him sitting here, dreading the day, wondering if this was the year you’d finally fall for someone.

And then it happened.

It started with a name. A name Jungwon hadn’t expected to hear from your lips in that way, with that softness, that quiet curiosity.

“So… do you think it’d be weird if I said yes?” you asked, tapping your fingers against your notebook as you glanced at him. “I mean, he’s really sweet, and I never really thought about it before, but… maybe I should give him a chance?”

Jungwon didn’t know what hurt more—the fact that you were considering saying yes to someone else, or the fact that you were asking him about it, like his opinion mattered, like he wasn’t the one who had been hopelessly, helplessly in love with you this whole time.

His heart sank. But his face? His face stayed the same, the perfect mask he had spent years perfecting.

“Yeah,” he forced out, offering you a lopsided smile. “I mean… if you think he’s sweet, then why not?”

You smiled, nudging his arm. “See? That’s why I asked you. You always give the best advice.”

And just like that, it was decided.

Jungwon should have been used to it by now—watching you get excited over someone else, watching as you completely missed the way he looked at you, the way his hands twitched at his sides, itching to reach for you but never daring to.

But he wasn’t used to it.

And this time, it hurt more than ever.

Because this time, he was starting to wonder if he’d lost his chance completely.

Jungwon didn’t do anything.

Not really.

But somehow, he was still the problem.

It started small—your new “almost” boyfriend growing stiff whenever Jungwon was around, the way his laughter faded whenever you leaned into Jungwon’s space like you always did. The subtle looks, the hesitation, the way he never really joined in on the jokes you and Jungwon shared so effortlessly.

Jungwon wasn’t blind. He could see the tension in the way the guy held himself whenever he was near. The way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes whenever you mentioned Jungwon’s name.

And it only got worse.

“You guys are close,” the guy had said one day, casual, but not really. “Like… really close.”

You had laughed, oblivious as always. “Well, yeah. Jungwon’s my best friend.”

And just like that, Jungwon had known.

It wouldn’t last.

Because no matter how much the guy liked you, he hated Jungwon more.

And Jungwon? He didn’t even have to try.

He just kept being himself. Kept being the person who knew you better than anyone else, who could read your moods with a glance, who you ran to first with every little thing. He didn’t have to say anything, didn’t have to do anything.

The cracks in your almost-relationship formed all on their own.

Small disagreements. Awkward silences. The way the guy started pulling away, his insecurity gnawing at him until it consumed whatever chance he had with you.

And then, one day, it was over.

You barely looked upset when you told Jungwon. More confused than anything.

“I don’t get it,” you admitted, pulling your knees to your chest as you sat beside him. “He just… said he didn’t think it would work.”

Jungwon stayed quiet.

He could’ve told you the truth. Could’ve told you that the guy had been jealous, that it had always been doomed from the start because no one would ever be okay with how much you leaned on Jungwon.

But instead, he just shrugged.

“Guess he wasn’t the right one, then.”

And you nodded, sighing before resting your head against his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jungwon closed his eyes for a brief second, allowing himself to soak in the moment. Because even if he didn’t have you the way he wanted, at least, for now, he still had you.

And that was enough.

Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

But as the days passed, Jungwon started to realize something—maybe "enough" wasn’t really enough anymore.

Because even though you were still here, still laughing with him, still resting your head on his shoulder like you always had, something had changed. Not between you, but within him.

For so long, he had told himself that being your best friend was enough, that having you in his life in any way was better than risking losing you altogether. But now? Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Because watching someone else try to love you—watching them fall short because they weren’t him—had planted a dangerous thought in his mind.

What if he stopped holding back?

What if he stopped pretending?

What if he told you the truth?

The thought terrified him. Because if you didn’t feel the same way, if you laughed it off, if you looked at him like he was crazy, then everything he cherished between you could shatter in an instant.

But at the same time, wasn’t he already breaking a little more each day by staying silent?

The doubt clawed at him, restless and demanding. It lingered in the moments he caught himself staring at you for too long, in the way his heart skipped a beat every time you said his name, in the way jealousy twisted in his chest when someone else looked at you the way he wanted to.

And with Valentine’s Day nearing more and more, and you still feeling down after the whole situation with that guy, Jungwon felt conflicted.

Part of him wanted to use this as an opportunity—to finally say something, to be the one to make you smile again. But another part of him, the part that had spent so long holding back, told him it wasn’t the right time.

You were sad. Not heartbroken, not devastated, but still hurt. He could see it in the way you sighed more than usual, in the way your usual excitement about the upcoming holiday had faded into indifference.

“I don’t even know why I care so much,” you muttered one evening as the two of you sat on the bleachers, watching the empty field stretch out before you. “It’s not like we were even dating, not really. But still… it sucks, you know?”

Jungwon nodded, even though he didn’t fully understand. Not in the way you did, at least. Because to him, the pain wasn’t in almost having someone and losing them—it was in never having you at all.

“I just thought, maybe this year would be different,” you admitted, pulling your jacket tighter around you. “Maybe I’d actually get to experience one of those cute Valentine’s Days you see in movies.”

Jungwon swallowed. His hands clenched into fists in his lap, itching to reach for yours.

He could do it.

He could say it.

He could tell you that you weren’t alone, that someone had been looking at you that way all along. That if you let him, he’d make sure you never had to feel unwanted again.

But then you sighed and leaned against him, your head finding his shoulder in that familiar, comfortable way that told him you still saw him as your best friend.

Just your best friend.

So he did what he always did.

He stayed quiet.

And maybe that was his biggest mistake.

Because as Valentine’s Day crept closer, and as you started smiling again—started acting more like yourself—Jungwon couldn’t shake the feeling that he was running out of time.

And if he didn’t do something soon… someone else would.

So he planned to start small—show you, in quiet, genuine ways, that he liked you as more than a best friend.

But it was easier said than done.

Because you were oblivious as fuck.

Normally, Jungwon found that trait of yours adorable. The way you never seemed to pick up on people’s feelings, how you always assumed the best in every situation, how completely unaware you were of the effect you had on others.

But now? Now, it felt like torture.

Because how was he supposed to show you he loved you when he had such a hard time saying it?

He tried little things first. Thoughtful gestures, things he had always done but with more meaning behind them now. Walking you home even when it was out of his way, holding doors open for you even when his hands were full, remembering your coffee order down to the smallest detail and getting it for you before you could even ask.

But none of it clicked for you.

"You're such a good friend, Won," you'd say, smiling up at him like his heart wasn’t unraveling in his chest.

Friend.

Jungwon bit back a sigh, pushing down the frustration. He told himself to be patient.

So he tried again.

He started being more obvious—giving you his jacket when it was barely cold, brushing his fingers against yours just to see if you'd notice, complimenting you in a way that should’ve meant more than just friendship.

"You always know how to make me feel better," you had told him after one of his compliments, nudging him playfully. "What would I do without you?"

Jungwon had forced a smile, ignoring the way his heart twisted painfully.

Because none of it was working.

You still weren’t getting it.

And maybe… maybe you never would.

Because maybe, deep down, you had never even considered him as an option.

That thought scared him more than anything.

So with Valentine’s Day only days away, Jungwon realized something.

If he wanted you to know—if he wanted any chance at all—he couldn’t keep waiting for you to figure it out on your own.

He had to do something bigger. Something you couldn’t possibly ignore.

Something that would make you finally, finally see him.

So, he did something bigger.

With Valentine’s Day here, he made sure you wouldn’t come home too soon. He got some of your mutual friends to keep you company—texting them to stall you, make up excuses, anything to buy him enough time. And while they distracted you, he let himself into your house with the spare key you had given him long ago, “just in case of emergencies.”

And in his case, this was an emergency.

Because if he didn’t do this now, he might never have the courage again.

Carrying the bags inside, he wasted no time.

First, the decorations.

Red heart-shaped balloons filled your bedroom, some floating against the ceiling, others scattered on your bed. On the wall, carefully arranged, were balloons that spelled out "Be My Valentine?"—a question he never thought he'd be brave enough to ask.

Then, the gifts.

A teddy bear sat on your bed, soft and plush, with a box of your favorite chocolates nestled in its lap. Next to it, a bouquet of your favorite flowers—fresh, vibrant, just like you. And a basket filled with everything he knew you loved. Your favorite snacks, little trinkets, things you had casually mentioned wanting in passing—things he had remembered, even when you had forgotten you said them.

And finally, the finishing touch.

Rose petals, carefully placed, leading from your front door all the way to your bedroom. Alongside them, fake candles flickered softly, casting a warm, intimate glow around the space.

By the time he was done, his heart was pounding in his chest.

It was now or never.

So he took a deep breath, sat on the edge of your bed, and waited.

Waited for you to come home.

Waited to see if this would finally, finally make you see him the way he had always seen you.

And for the first time in his life, Jungwon was terrified.

When you finally got home, you were tired.

You had spent hours with your friends, confused as to why they were suddenly so insistent on keeping you out so late. They had dragged you to cafés, stores, even a last-minute movie, all while exchanging suspicious glances. But now, finally, you were home.

And the moment you stepped inside, you froze.

Rose petals.

They stretched out before you, leading down the hall, soft and delicate against the floor. And lining the path were small flickering lights—fake candles, glowing warmly in the dimness of your house.

Your heart skipped.

“What the—” you whispered, slowly stepping forward, following the trail.

Each step felt surreal, like you were stepping into something straight out of a romance movie. Your fingers brushed against your chest as you tried to steady your breathing.

By the time you reached your bedroom door, your heart was hammering.

And then you saw it.

Balloons—so many of them—floating and scattered all around your room.

And then, there was him.

Jungwon.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, looking nervous but determined.

The moment your eyes met, you felt your breath catch.

“Jungwon…” You blinked, glancing around. “Did you…?”

He swallowed, standing up slowly. “Yeah. It was me.”

Your gaze darted to the teddy bear on your bed, the chocolates, the bouquet, the basket of all the things you loved.

Your chest tightened.

“This is… I mean, you…” You trailed off, shaking your head in disbelief. “Why?”

Jungwon took a step closer, hands clenching at his sides. “Because I had to.” His voice was quiet, but firm. “Because if I didn’t, you’d never notice.”

Your brows furrowed. “Notice what?”

He let out a soft, almost breathless laugh, shaking his head. “See? That’s what I mean. You’re so—” He stopped himself, exhaling deeply. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Jungwon took another step forward, closing the space between you. His eyes held something deeper now—something vulnerable.

“I love you.”

Silence.

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep going.

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve tried to show you, in every way I could, but you never noticed. So I figured… maybe this time, you would.”

Your mind was racing, heart pounding.

Jungwon? In love with you?

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You didn’t even know what to say.

And Jungwon—seeing your silence, your wide eyes, your stunned expression—felt his heart sink.

Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe you really never had considered him that way. Maybe he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

So before you could say anything, before you could reject him and break him completely, he let out a shaky breath and whispered, “Say something. Please.”

You kept looking around the room, your mind struggling to process everything, every single detail Jungwon had put together, just for you.

Your chest felt tight, your throat dry. Your lips parted, but the only thing that came out was a shaky breath before you finally asked, “For how long?”

Jungwon took a deep breath, his eyes focused on you as if he were summoning all the courage he had kept buried for so long. He wasn’t sure what he had expected—maybe for you to stop him, or maybe for you to just… understand. But this was real now. There was no going back. “For so long,” he murmured. Then, like a dam breaking, the words just spilled out.

“I’ve been falling for you. Not just once, but over and over again.” He shifted, his hands twitching by his sides as if he didn’t know where to put them. “It wasn’t some instant, magical thing. It was a million little moments. Like the way you scrunch your nose when you’re confused or frustrated, like when you’re so focused and you don’t even realize how cute you look. Or how every time I’m with you, I feel like the world is just… better. The way you always give me the first sip of your drink without me asking. I never wanted to take it, but I always did, just because you were offering. You’re just…”

He shook his head, unable to fully explain, but his eyes locked onto yours. “And your laugh…” He laughed softly, almost to himself. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t even describe it. Every time you laugh, it’s like everything in my world falls into place. Like nothing else matters, just you and that sound. It’s like… nothing else could make me feel more alive than hearing you laugh.”

His voice faltered slightly, but he pressed on, his emotions pouring out faster now.

“And every time I’m around you,” Jungwon said, his eyes darting to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again, “my heart races. It feels like it’s beating so hard, like I can’t breathe. And I’ve tried to hide it, to play it cool, but I can’t. I can’t stop it. Every time you’re near me, it’s like everything else disappears, and all I can think about is you.”

You could see the longing in his eyes as he continued.

“I memorize everything about you,” he added, his voice trembling. “Your favorite food, the songs you hum under your breath when you’re in a good mood, the way you scrunch your eyes when you’re laughing so hard you can’t control it. I know all the little things because I’m always paying attention to you. Always.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours desperately, his words tumbling out even faster now.

“And when someone else shows interest in you… when they look at you the way I want to, it just… it suffocates me. I feel like I’m drowning, like you’re slipping away from me. But I’ve never told you. I’ve never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin this, ruin us—whatever we are. But I couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”

Jungwon’s hands trembled as he reached for yours, his voice softer, almost a whisper now.

“I love you,” he said, his heart on his sleeve. “I’ve loved you for so long. I didn’t know what to do with it, but I can’t keep it in anymore. Please… don’t turn away from me.”

Jungwon had done it. He had confessed.

He had done the very thing that had terrified him for years.

And now… you weren’t saying anything.

The silence stretched between you, unbearable and deafening. His breaths came out uneven, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you, waiting, begging for a response.

But you just stood there, staring at him—wide-eyed, shell-shocked, silent.

And that silence broke him.

Jungwon let out a shaky exhale before his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed onto his knees, his head hanging as his shoulders trembled. The weight of everything—the nerves, the fear, the exhaustion—finally crushed him.

Tears slid down his cheeks, slow and quiet.

This is it, he thought bitterly.

He had been so scared of confessing. But now, he realized, this was what he should have been scared of.

Not rejection. Not heartbreak.

But this.

This horrible, gut-wrenching silence.

This feeling of being completely exposed, completely vulnerable, waiting for the one person he loved the most to either take him in or turn him away.

He squeezed his eyes shut, already preparing for the worst—

And then suddenly, you were on your knees in front of him.

Jungwon barely had time to react before your hands cupped his tear-streaked cheeks, tilting his face up toward you.

And then—

You kissed him.

His breath caught, his entire body freezing in place. His mind couldn’t keep up, couldn’t process that this was actually happening.

You—his best friend, the person he had spent years hopelessly in love with—were kissing him.

But he was so stunned, so overwhelmed, that he didn’t even kiss you back.

The seconds stretched, and you hesitated. Slowly, you started to pull away, your hands loosening their hold on his face—

And that’s what finally snapped him out of it.

Before you could fully retreat, Jungwon grabbed you—one hand curling around the back of your neck, the other gripping your waist. And in a heartbeat, he slammed his lips against yours again.

This time, he kissed you back.

Desperately.

Fiercely.

Like he had been starving for this.

Like he had been waiting his entire life for this moment.

His fingers curled tighter around you, pulling you impossibly close as his lips moved against yours—messy, feverish, full of all the emotions he had buried for so long.

And for the first time in years, Jungwon wasn’t afraid anymore.

Because now, he knew.

He wasn’t losing you.

He had you.

And he wasn’t going to let you go.

As the kiss broke apart, both of you breathless, Jungwon’s hands still gently cupping your face, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh—a mix of disbelief and relief.

And then, you smiled at him.

That smile.

The one that made his heart race every time.

Jungwon stared at you for a moment, his chest tightening again, his breath hitching in his throat.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low, full of admiration. “Every time you smile, I forget how to breathe.”

Your smile only grew wider, and a warmth spread through him, almost overwhelming. He had never wanted something more than to see that smile, to feel the way it made his heart flutter and ache all at once.

You swallowed, your heart thundering in your chest. This felt like a dream, and yet, you knew it was real.

With a deep breath, you found the courage to speak, the weight of everything finally coming out in the words you’d been holding back for months.

“I love you too Jungwon,” you confessed, your voice shaking just slightly. “I’ve loved you for months now… but I didn’t want to tell you, in case… in case you didn’t feel the same.”

The words hung between you, and for a moment, everything was still.

Then, Jungwon’s expression softened, his eyes bright with something you could only describe as pure relief and adoration. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly, his fingers still lightly resting on your face as he looked at you with such intensity.

His voice was barely above a whisper as he reached for your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your skin. “So, you… love me, too?”

You nodded, your eyes soft but filled with determination. “Yes. I always have.”

Jungwon’s heart swelled with relief and joy, the weight lifting from his chest. A soft smile spread across his face, and before he could think too much about it, the words tumbled out of him, filled with hope.

“Do you want to be my Valentine?” he asked, his voice low but full of sincerity.

“Yes,” you replied, without hesitation, your heart pounding as the world seemed to settle into place around you.

Jungwon took a deep breath, still holding your hand as his gaze locked with yours. He had taken the plunge before, but this moment felt different—bigger.

“Then,” he began, voice soft but steady, “do you also want to be my girlfriend?”

You blinked, your heart fluttering wildly as your chest filled with warmth. This was the moment, wasn’t it? The moment you had both been waiting for, yet too afraid to ask for.

Without hesitation, you nodded. “Yes. I’d love to.”

Jungwon couldn’t hide his smile, the relief flooding through him as he leaned in, his eyes soft but filled with adoration. And then, he whispered the words that had been on his mind for so long.

“You don’t even realize what you do to me, do you?”

You blinked, your heart pounding as you tried to process what he meant.

“You’ve got me falling for you harder than I ever thought possible.” And then he kissed you again—this time slow, gentle, full of everything that had been left unsaid for months.

Jungwon finally had you, finally knew you felt the same, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t have to wonder.

Because you were his.

And he was yours.

a/n: well this sucked ass... i havent been feeling romantical since boyfriend troubles.

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eightmakesonebraincell · 1 day ago

Text

and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky (teaser)

genre: poly doctors!ateez x doctor fem!reader, hospital romance, established relationship, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 1.6k (teaser) + approx. 37k (full fic)

c/w: slightly aged-up characters, slow burn except it's burning in reverse, lots of medical themes, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic

synopsis: after transferring during the last year of your residency program, you work alongside your eight boyfriends at kq hospital. it becomes harder to keep your relationship the same as it used to be as you all navigate the respective challenges of being doctors and nurses. you come to experience love and loss in both warmth and coldness, but only one of them will keep your relationship alive.

a/n: not my titles becoming increasingly longer with each oneshot i write 💀 but this is probably my fave one yet and i hope it slaps when the full fic drops

your feet drag against the floor as you trudge listlessly back to your locker, body heavy as if you are caught in the very midst of a snowstorm. your shoulders cave even further in on themselves when you check your phone to see no reply from hongjoong.

you want nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriend’s arms, nose pressed against the soothing rumble of his chest as he listens to you complain about your day. it will not change anything about the situation with dr. lim and dr. nam but at least you will be able to release the hot steam that has built up from the bubbling pit of lava in your chest.

if hongjoong is still working, perhaps you can sit in his office and wait on his couch. his presence will be enough to keep you grounded.

some of the nurses in the neurology ward greet you cordially as you exit the elevator and you return their smile before sitting on a bench further down the corridor to avoid being in anybody’s way. you test your chances and call hongjoong’s number, only to hear the line ring until it sends you to his voicemail. when another attempt ten minutes later yields the same result, you send a text telling him to call you when he is finished.

you resign yourself to the bench with a passive sigh and wait, all the while a tempest swirling inside of you. eventually, one of the junior residents tilts her head at the sight of you still sitting on the bench, having passed by you almost twenty minutes ago in the same position. she calls out, “doctor l/n?”

you jerk up from where you are fiddling with your phone. recognising her as hongjoong’s colleague, you ask, “i’m just waiting for doctor kim. do you happen to know where he is?”

“doctor kim?” she furrows her brows, “he left already. he actually left early today.”

“oh.”

the heat in your chest suddenly dissipates, immediately replaced by a frigid hollowness that makes your mind go blank instead. horrified, you feel your eyes involuntarily start to prickle with tears no matter how hard you will for them to disappear.

“do you want me to pass a message on for you?” the resident looks at you with a twinge of concern, but mostly curiosity.

you shake your head and mumble, “no, that’s okay, thanks,” then rush away to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. deciding against asking one of your other boyfriends to drive you home, you forgo catching the bus too in favour of walking through the streets.

it’s not even a big deal. we’ve all forgotten about dates before and hongjoong would never deliberately blow you off.

you know that. you know this is not something you need to be upset over and you know that your boyfriend must have a reason. yet knowing does nothing to stop the trembling of your lips as you swipe furiously at your dripping tears with the back of your hand. on top of everything that has piled up today, hongjoong forgetting about your date is enough to topple it over completely.

the light snowfall from earlier has already stopped but the temperature remains just as low. as you tread through the chalky streets home, thoughts creeping through your mind like the fractal branches of a snowflake–fragile and delicate–you welcome the numbing chill around you instead and let it paralyse your emotions like an anaesthetic.

by the time you reach the front door, you have collected yourself enough. the rims of your eyes and the tip of your nose still have a slight redness to them but your appearance can easily be dismissed by the biting cold outside. you unlock the door and walk in.

you are met with immediate warmth; from the residual heat of shared dinner, from the streaming glow of lights, from the peals of low laughter. walking through the corridor almost feels like walking through a warped tunnel of dissociation–so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

san sits on the couch, languidly scrolling on his phone with an arm wrapped around yeosang’s shoulders, who is flicking through a thin booklet of paper. sitting cross-legged at the coffee table in front of them in a stark contrast of mess is hongjoong��hongjoong who is hunched over his own booklet with a newly-made carpet and tablecloth of thesis and journal articles, textbooks and tablets.

you are so caught up by the hurricane of a scene that you do not realise you are about to step on the corner of a textbook until hongjoong’s head snaps up to look at you.

“be careful!” his warning cry is sharp with alarm.

your body jolts and you step backwards. “sorry.”

despite san and yeosang’s chirpy greetings, you remain frozen to the spot. the two of them clamber up to pull you into an excited hug, only to pause when they realise there is no way to navigate the landmine of paper scattered around the room, so they settle back into the cushions instead.

“don’t mind the mess,” yeosang giggles, unaware of the sudden onset of unease that courses through your body. “even seonghwa has given the okay for him to do this.”

your words come out thick and sticky as you ask, “what is hongjoong doing?”

san’s voice is sympathetic, “there was a last-minute change to his presentation that he’s doing at that annual neurological association meeting. his department head wants him to do a different topic.”

“he could’ve told me, i don’t know, five fucking months ago,” hongjoong curses fiercely at his tablet, “but he just had to wait until my presentation was basically done to let me know.”

you have had a bad day…but so has hongjoong.

the door opens behind you. fumbling for a moment, you try to make yourself smaller against the wall to make room for whoever of your boyfriends has returned. it is mingi back from his shift which tells you just how long you had waited for hongjoong, considering mingi’s shift ended almost two hours after yours did.

“y/n?” mingi’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles, the sight of you a pleasant surprise. he asks, “did you and hongjoong come back from your date already?”

you wince at the bomb he has unwittingly dropped; the very one you yourself were still unsure how to navigate.

“shit,” hongjoong’s head snaps towards you again but for an entirely different reason this time. “holy fuck. oh my fucking god.” his hands flutter as he upturns the scattered notes around him in search of his phone, face draining of all colour as it dawns on him he had silenced his notifications. “the date–i forgot. fuck, i am so fucking sorry, y/n.”

your boyfriends on the couch watch with darting eyes and mingi glances at you cautiously. in some twisted reality, you almost feel immobilised by guilt as hongjoong stumbles to his feet, grasping the phone he has finally found from where it had been tossed under the table.

nothing changes the fact that he forgot nor the fact that you have had a rough day. but just as you had realised, hongjoong has also had a rough day, if not worse than yours. and as with any relationship, one will always have to yield under pressure lest both people break.

swallowing thickly, you manage to force out, “that’s okay. i forgot too.”

a white lie, but a white lie has never hurt anybody.

mingi catches the slight twist of your fingers in the side of your jacket. he murmurs, “let’s go inside,” then tugs you by the elbow. he steps you carefully through the landmines further into the living room, gingerly toeing papers inches aside to reveal the floorboards underneath for the both of you to step on. hongjoong is still looking at you remorsefully as you near, his hands itching to reach out but afraid they will not be met with forgiving ones.

“it’s okay, joong, really,” you extend your fingers in his direction and gently squeeze his hand. “sorry to hear about your presentation. i know how hard you’ve worked on it the past few months.”

sadness still lingers in your boyfriend’s eyes at having made such a careless mistake despite the grateful smile he gives you. “i’ll make it up to you after the presentation is finished,” he vows. “i’ll take you out for a nice dinner and i promise i won’t forget this time.”

you chuckle softly with a reassuring nod, “okay.”

“what about you? how was your day?” hongjoong asks.

an hour ago you wanted nothing more than the comfort he could offer while you vented about your day and you are almost certain fatigue and frustration are smeared across your face right now. yet you simply answer, “it was a long day but it was good.”

another white lie.

before your boyfriends can probe any further, you state, “i’m going to take a shower first. might head to sleep early today.” you lean forward to give hongjoong a chaste kiss, who easily relaxes into it with relief. you turn to rise onto your tiptoes to give mingi one too before meeting yeosang and san halfway from where they kneel on the couch to also kiss you goodnight.

then you turn and retreat to your room. it is not all too bad, you reconcile with yourself. alone time would be good after today’s events.

a third white lie.

but again, that is fine, because a white lie never hurt anybody…nobody except for yourself.

taglist pt. one | apply | comment to be tagged for this fic only

@thecarnivaloflies @ilovekimhongjoong @ifykyunho @ppprimary @hwas-housewife

@itza-meee @lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop

@ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent

@darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi

@mimilia1801 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 3 days ago

Text

A Real Good Doctor (Part 2)

Doctor Harry

Part One

Where Y/N and Harry run into each other and one thing leads to the next.

Word Count: 8,273

Content Warning: Mentions of blood, falling, surgery, and light smut.

Harry pulls open the door to the café, stepping aside to let Y/N walk out first before following close behind. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of muffins from the bakery next door. They walk side by side in a comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their coffees as the city moves around them.

Then, without any hesitation, Harry speaks. “Why didn’t you text me?”

Y/N glances up at him, caught off guard by how straightforward he is. He is not teasing, not smirking just asking. She shifts her coffee cup between her hands, looking down at the sidewalk as they walk.

“I didn’t think I was supposed to,” she says honestly. “I figured the number was just for medical stuff. Like if something went wrong with the stitches.”

Harry nods slowly, considering that. “That’s fair,” he says. “But you could’ve texted anyway.”

She exhales, still looking ahead. “I just didn’t want to bother you,” she admits. “You’re a doctor. You have way more important things to deal with.”

Harry stops walking for a moment, and she pauses too, turning to face him. He studies her for a second, then shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t mean it.”

Y/N presses her lips together, feeling a small pang of regret. She had not considered that. She had assumed it was just a polite gesture, nothing more.

She nods, shifting slightly on her feet. “I guess I didn’t think about it that way.”

Harry gives a small shrug. “Well. Now you know.”

There is no pressure in his tone, no expectation—just a simple statement. And somehow, that makes it feel even more significant.

Harry takes another sip of his coffee, his gaze flicking toward Y/N before he speaks again. “It’s not every day you rescue a cute girl off the sidewalk.”

Y/N lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Is that in the medical textbooks? Proper procedure for stumbling across injured pedestrians?”

He smirks slightly. “Something like that.”

The conversation settles between them as they continue walking, the cold air biting just a little more now that they are no longer inside the café. Y/N tucks one hand into her coat pocket, shifting her coffee cup to the other as they pass a row of shop windows, each one glowing softly with warm light. The displays are decorated for the upcoming holidays, twinkling string lights casting a golden hue onto the sidewalk.

Harry glances at one of the windows, where an array of books is stacked beneath a sign that reads Winter Reads to Get Lost In. Y/N follows his gaze, her lips twitching slightly.

“You a big reader?” she asks.

He hums, considering. “Not as much as I’d like to be. Work keeps me busy.”

She nods, taking another sip of her drink before tilting her head slightly. “Speaking of work, what kind of doctor are you?”

“Trauma surgeon,” he answers easily.

Her eyebrows raise slightly. “That sounds… intense.”

He gives a small shrug. “It can be.”

She studies him for a moment. “So my knee was probably the least exciting thing you’ve had to deal with.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. At least you were conscious. That’s more than I can say for a lot of my patients.”

Y/N winces slightly at that, imagining the kind of high-stakes situations he must deal with on a daily basis. “And you still had the energy to stop for coffee and go on a run?”

“I try,” he says. “Some days are easier than others.”

She watches him as they walk, noting the way his shoulders sit slightly tense, like he is used to carrying more weight than just his own.

“So when you’re not patching people up, running, and drinking overpriced coffee, what do you do?” she asks, shifting the conversation to something lighter.

Harry glances at her, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “You make it sound like I have no life.”

She grins. “Do you?”

He laughs under his breath. “I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

Y/N rolls her eyes but feels herself smiling as they continue walking, the city stretching out ahead of them.

As they walk, their conversation flows effortlessly, jumping from books to coffee preferences to the best running routes in the city. The air is crisp, but the warmth of their drinks and the easy conversation makes it feel less biting.

After a brief lull, Harry glances at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. “What are you doing this weekend?”

Y/N hums, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not much, I think. Why?”

He hesitates for only a second before saying, “I was thinking… maybe we could get dinner?”

She slows her steps slightly, looking up at him. There is no teasing in his expression, no smugness—just a simple, casual invitation.

“Oh,” she says, a little caught off guard, though pleasantly so. “Like a ‘thank you for stitching me up’ dinner or…?”

Harry smirks. “I mean, if that’s what you want to call it.”

Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a smile. “I think I could be convinced.”

“Good,” he says with a nod. “Any place in mind?”

She thinks for a moment before her eyes light up. “There’s this Thai place I love, but it’s kind of a hole in the wall.”

Harry raises a brow. “You’re not talking about Saap Thai, are you?”

Y/N’s jaw drops slightly. “Wait—you know it?”

“Know it?” He scoffs. “I’ve been going there for years. Best pad see ew in the city.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned that we both love the same obscure Thai place.”

Harry grins. “I’d say it’s a good sign.”

Y/N pretends to consider. “Fine. I guess I can meet you there this weekend.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says, his voice warm.

As they continue walking, Y/N feels a quiet excitement settle in her chest. A few weeks ago, she never would have imagined any of this happening. But now, here she was—planning dinner with the doctor who quite literally picked her up off the sidewalk.

Their walk naturally loops back around to the coffee shop, the familiar scent of espresso and baked goods greeting them once more. Through the window, Y/N spots Poppy sitting at a small table near the front, scrolling on her phone, but not-so-subtly glancing up every few seconds as if to check on her progress.

Harry follows her gaze and nods. “Looks like your friend is waiting.”

Y/N exhales, part of her wishing she had a little more time before they had to part ways. “Yeah, I should probably get back before she starts interrogating me.”

Harry smirks, shifting his coffee cup between his hands. “I should let you go, then.” He tilts his head slightly. “But I’ll see you this weekend?”

Y/N nods, feeling an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach. “Yeah. Looking forward to it.”

There is a brief pause before Harry steps closer, wrapping one arm around her in an easy, natural hug. For a second, she freezes, caught off guard, but then she relaxes into it, letting her arms wrap around him in return.

He is warm, solid, and his scent—clean, fresh, with a hint of something woodsy—lingers in the air between them. It is the same scent she noticed in his car, the same one that clung to his hoodie when he had wrapped her knee. Now, pressed against him, she can tell it is just him, and something about that makes her heart pick up slightly.

Harry pulls back first, his expression unreadable but not unkind. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

Y/N nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she steps back toward the door. “You too, Doctor.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh before turning and walking down the street, disappearing into the flow of city traffic.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N steps back inside the café, bracing herself for the inevitable interrogation waiting at Poppy’s table.

The moment Y/N steps inside, Poppy looks up from her phone, her eyes already wide with excitement. She doesn’t even try to hide her smirk as she leans forward on the table, both hands wrapped around her coffee cup like she has been waiting for this moment all her life.

“Well?” Poppy says, dragging out the word. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to start guessing?”

Y/N sighs, setting her coffee down before sliding into the chair across from her. “Nothing happened,” she says, though the warmth in her face betrays her.

Poppy scoffs. “Nothing happened? Babe, I watched you walk off with a literal doctor who carried you through the streets of New York. And then you come back forty minutes later looking all—” She gestures vaguely at Y/N. “Like that.”

Y/N raises a brow. “Like what?”

“Like someone who just got asked on a date,” Poppy says, eyes sparkling.

Y/N groans, covering her face for a second before peeking through her fingers. “Okay. Fine. Maybe he asked me to dinner this weekend.”

Poppy gasps dramatically, nearly knocking over her coffee. “I KNEW IT!” She slaps the table, drawing the attention of the barista behind the counter. “I knew there was something there! Oh my god, tell me everything. Where? When? What did he say?”

Y/N sighs, unable to fight back a small smile as she leans back in her chair. “We’re going to that little Thai place we love.”

Poppy gasps again, clutching her chest like she has just received the best news of her life. “Oh, this is fate. This is a rom-com. He just happens to love the same restaurant? Babe, this is how love stories start.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but the truth is, a small part of her is thinking the same thing.

“It’s just dinner,” she says, though even she does not sound convinced.

Poppy grins knowingly, stirring her coffee. “Mmmhmm. Sure. And next week, I’ll be helping you pick out an outfit for date number two.”

Y/N shakes her head, laughing, but she does not deny it.

On the weekend, Y/N stands in front of her closet, scanning through her options with a mix of excitement and nerves. It had been a while since she had gone on a proper date, and despite telling herself that this was just dinner, she could not ignore the way her stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing Harry again.

She pulls out a nice top, something flattering but not too dressy, and pairs it with high-waisted pants that hug her just right. She slips on a pair of flats, knowing she wants to be comfortable but still put together. The outfit is simple, effortless, exactly the balance she wants to strike.

Stepping in front of the mirror, she smooths her hands over the fabric and exhales. Her hair falls just right, and her makeup is light but enough to make her feel confident. She wants to look nice without feeling like she is trying too hard.

Checking the time, she grabs her purse and phone before heading toward the door. Her heart beats a little faster as she steps out, the anticipation settling in as she makes her way to the Thai restaurant where Harry is waiting.

Y/N arrives at the Thai restaurant just a few minutes early, the familiar scent of spices and sizzling dishes drifting through the air as she approaches the entrance. The small, tucked-away spot is just as cozy as she remembers, warm light spilling from the windows onto the sidewalk. She pulls open the door, stepping inside, her pulse quickening slightly as she glances around.

Harry is already there. He stands near the entrance, scanning the room before his eyes land on her. His expression shifts instantly, a small, genuine smile appearing as he takes her in. He looks effortlessly put together in a dark button-up with the sleeves casually rolled to his forearms, paired with well-fitted trousers. He looks good—really good.

“Hey,” he greets, stepping forward slightly. “You made it.”

She laughs softly. “Would’ve been awkward if I didn’t.”

He smirks, then gestures toward the host stand. “I got us a table. Ready to eat?”

“Absolutely,” she says, feeling the warmth of anticipation settle in her chest.

The host leads them to a small table near the window, tucked away just enough for them to have some privacy. The restaurant hums with quiet conversations and the clinking of plates, the atmosphere intimate but relaxed. They sit across from each other, the flickering candle on the table casting a soft glow over their faces.

Harry leans back slightly, resting his forearm on the table as he glances over the menu. “So, do you already know what you’re getting, or are you one of those people who has to read through the whole thing every time?”

Y/N tilts her head playfully. “I like to consider all my options.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “I already know what I’m getting.”

“Let me guess. Pad see ew?”

Harry raises a brow, impressed. “Good memory.”

She shrugs, smirking slightly. “You said it was the best in the city.”

He nods, then gestures to her. “What about you?”

“I always go for the green curry,” she says, setting the menu down.

“Solid choice,” he acknowledges, closing his own menu just as their server approaches. They place their orders, and once the server leaves, Harry leans in slightly, his gaze settling on her with quiet curiosity.

“So,” he says, “is this the part where we ask all the typical first-date questions?”

Y/N arches a brow. “Is that what this is?”

He tilts his head slightly, considering. “Would you be here if it wasn’t?”

She exhales a soft laugh, shaking her head. “No, I wouldn’t.”

His lips twitch with amusement. “Good to know.”

She sips her water, meeting his gaze. “Alright, then. Typical first-date questions. What made you want to be a doctor?”

Harry thinks for a moment, his fingers tapping idly against the table. “I guess I’ve always liked the idea of being able to help people. My mum was a nurse, so I grew up around it. Seeing the way she cared for people, how she made a difference in their lives—I wanted to be able to do the same.”

Y/N listens intently, watching the way his expression softens slightly when he talks about it. There is no arrogance in his voice, no sense of self-importance. Just sincerity.

“That’s a good reason,” she says, nodding.

He shrugs lightly. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I work in publishing,” she says. “Mostly editing manuscripts before they go to print. It’s not quite as life-saving as your job, but it has its moments.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he says. “Books have probably saved more lives than I have.”

She smiles at that, tilting her head. “That might be the nicest thing anyone has said about my job.”

Their conversation flows easily, moving from work to travel, to childhood memories, to the small quirks that make them who they are. Time seems to slip away as the food arrives, the dishes filling the space between them as they eat and talk, neither of them feeling the need to check the time.

At some point, Y/N realizes how natural this feels—how easy it is to be here with him, to talk to him like they have known each other longer than just a few weeks. It is effortless, but not in a way that feels fleeting. It feels like something that could last.

And judging by the way Harry looks at her, like he is just as caught up in the moment as she is, she thinks he might feel the same way.

They were caught up in the moment, lost in the conversation, in the warmth of good food and easy laughter, until the sudden vibration of Harry’s phone cut through it. He barely noticed it at first, but when it rang again, more insistent this time, he sighed and pulled it from his pocket.

His eyes flicked to the screen, and immediately, his expression shifted. His relaxed demeanor tensed, his jaw setting as he read the caller ID.

“Sorry,” he murmured, glancing at Y/N before standing. “I have to take this.”

She nodded, watching as he stepped away from the table, pressing the phone to his ear. She could not hear much, just the low hum of his voice as he spoke in short, clipped sentences. His hand raked through his hair at one point, his posture stiff as he listened to whatever was being said on the other end.

When he finally returned, his expression was tight, his lips pressed together in a way that told her the night was about to change.

“I have to go,” he said, exhaling through his nose. “There was an accident. I need to scrub in.”

Y/N immediately sat up, nodding in understanding. “Of course. Go.”

He hesitated, glancing at the half-finished plates in front of them. “I feel bad cutting this short.”

She smiled softly. “You don’t have to. This is your job. People need you.”

His brows furrowed slightly, like he wanted to say something else, but he did not have time to linger.

“I’ll pay for it,” she added, waving a hand. “Consider it repayment for saving my leg.”

Harry shook his head, clearly not liking the idea. “I should at least—”

“Harry,” she interrupted gently, tilting her head toward the door. “Go.”

He sighed, but there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. Without another word, he stepped forward and wrapped her in a quick hug. It was warm, firm, and over too soon.

“Rain check?” he asked as he pulled back.

She smiled. “Absolutely.”

He lingered for only a second before nodding and rushing out the door, disappearing into the night.

Y/N watched him go, the space he left behind feeling oddly empty. With a quiet breath, she sat back down, staring at the table before shaking her head with a small smile.

So much for a typical first date.

When Y/N got home, she kicked off her flats, set her purse down, and immediately pulled out her phone. She already knew Poppy was waiting for an update, probably pacing her apartment in anticipation.

Y/N: So… the date was going great.

It took less than five seconds for Poppy to reply.

Poppy: WAS??? Babe, what happened???

Y/N: His job called. There was an accident, and he had to go into surgery.

Poppy: NOOOO. You’re telling me your date got interrupted because he had to go save lives?? That’s both tragic and ridiculously hot.

Y/N: I mean… yeah, basically.

Poppy: Ugh. What a man. Okay, but how was it before he had to go be a hero?

Y/N: Honestly? It was really nice. We talked, laughed, and we even like the same Thai place. It was just easy.

Poppy: So you like him.

Y/N stared at the message for a second before sighing.

Y/N: Yeah. I do.

Poppy: I KNEW IT.

Y/N: But what if his schedule is always like this? What if this happens all the time?

Poppy: That’s something you’ll figure out if it turns into something serious. Right now? It’s one date. And judging by the way you’re texting me, I don’t think it’s going to be the last.

Y/N chewed on her lip, thinking about the way Harry had hugged her before leaving, the way he had asked for a rain check like he wanted to see her again.

Y/N: Yeah… maybe not.

Poppy: Oh, babe. You’re done for.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before tossing her phone onto the couch. Maybe Poppy was right. Maybe she was done for. But strangely enough, she did not mind the thought.

Later that night, as Y/N sat curled up on her couch, half-watching a show she had no real interest in, her phone lit up with an incoming call. The name on the screen made her heart stutter for a second.

Harry.

She hesitated, unsure if he had meant to call her or if it was some kind of mistake. But after a moment, she swiped to answer, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she said cautiously.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice came through, low and warm, a little more tired than it had been earlier. “I hope it’s okay that I called.”

Y/N sat up slightly, tucking her legs beneath her. “Yeah, of course. I just… wasn’t sure if you meant to.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “I did. Texts felt too informal. I felt bad about leaving so abruptly and—” He paused for a second. “I don’t know. I wanted to hear your voice.”

Her stomach flipped slightly at that. She swallowed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You really didn’t have to feel bad, you know. You were literally saving lives.”

“Still,” he murmured, then exhaled. “How was the rest of your night?”

“Uneventful,” she admitted. “Poppy demanded a full debrief, obviously.”

Harry huffed a quiet laugh. “I can only imagine.”

Y/N smiled before tilting her head slightly. “How did surgery go?”

There was a brief pause, then a sigh on the other end. “It was rough,” he admitted. “Multiple injuries, a lot of moving pieces. But we managed. Patient’s stable now, which is what matters.”

Y/N could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the weight of whatever he had dealt with tonight still lingering. She could not even begin to imagine the kind of pressure that came with his job.

“You must be exhausted,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “but I wanted to check in.”

A warmth spread through her chest at that. “Well,” she said, smiling slightly, “I appreciate it.”

There was a quiet hum on the other end, followed by a brief silence that felt comfortable rather than awkward.

“Rain check still on?” he asked eventually.

Y/N’s smile widened. “Yeah. It is.”

“Good,” he murmured. “I’ll let you get some sleep, then. Just wanted to call.”

“Thanks for calling, Harry.”

“Night, Y/N.”

As she hung up, she stared at her phone for a long moment, unable to shake the small, ridiculous smile that had settled on her face.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to a text from Harry. She had not been expecting it so soon, but seeing his name pop up on her screen brought an immediate warmth to her chest.

Harry: Morning. Hope you slept well.

She smiled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before responding.

Y/N: Morning. I did, surprisingly. You?

A few minutes passed before her phone buzzed again.

Harry: As well as I could after a long shift. But I’ve got the evening off. I was thinking… if you feel comfortable, maybe we could have dinner at mine instead of a restaurant.

Y/N sat up a little straighter, rereading the message.

Harry: A proper date this time. No stitches involved.

She huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

Y/N: That does sound like an upgrade.

Harry: I promise I won’t make you run this time either.

Y/N: You’re really selling this.

Harry: So is that a yes?

She hesitated for only a second, not because she was unsure, but because the idea of going to hisplace made this feel a little more personal, a little more real. But she wanted that.

Y/N: Yeah. I’d like that.

Harry: Perfect. I’ll cook. Do you like red or white wine?

Y/N: Red. But now I feel bad that you’re doing all the work.

Harry: You can bring dessert if it’ll make you feel better.

Y/N: Deal.

Harry: See you at seven?

Y/N: See you then.

She set her phone down, feeling an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach. This was different from meeting at a restaurant. This was stepping into his world, seeing him outside of work, outside of the rushed moments they had shared so far.

Y/N stood in front of Harry’s door, balancing a sheet of homemade brownies in one hand while smoothing down her sweater with the other. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last bit of nerves before pressing the doorbell.

Within seconds, the door swung open, and there he was. Harry, in a dark knit sweater and fitted jeans, his hair slightly tousled, looking far more relaxed than he had the last time she was here.

“You actually baked?” he asked, glancing down at the brownies with a small smirk.

She scoffed. “Excuse me, I happily took on the responsibility of dessert.” She lifted the tray slightly. “And these are homemade, by the way. Not store-bought.”

Harry placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “I’m honored.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, as he stepped aside to let her in. The warmth of his home greeted her instantly, the scent of something rich and savory filling the air. He reached for her coat, sliding it off her shoulders before hanging it by the door.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing toward the living room as he took the brownies from her.

Y/N stepped further inside, taking in the space properly for the first time. The last time she had been here, her focus had been entirely on her bleeding knee, on not ruining his furniture with her mess. Now, she could actually look.

His home was beautiful, but not in a showroom kind of way. It was warm and lived-in, filled with small details that made it feel personal. A large bookshelf lined one of the walls, stacked with an impressive mix of medical journals, classic literature, and a few well-worn novels that she suspected were old favorites. A record player sat near the corner, a small stack of vinyls beside it. The couch looked plush and inviting, a cozy knit blanket draped over the armrest.

“This place is beautiful,” she said, turning back to him. “I can actually appreciate it now that I’m not panicking about getting blood everywhere.”

Harry chuckled, setting the brownies on the counter before leaning against it. “Yeah, you were a little preoccupied last time.”

She smirked. “Just a bit.”

He crossed his arms, watching her as she took everything in. “Wine?”

She turned toward him, nodding. “Please.”

As he grabbed the bottle and two glasses, she let herself settle into his space, feeling more at ease than she had expected. This already felt different from their rushed encounters before. This was slower, intentional, and as Harry poured the wine, she realized just how much she was looking forward to the night ahead.

Harry poured the wine, handing her a glass before raising his own slightly. “To a proper date,” he said with a small smirk.

Y/N clinked her glass against his. “No injuries this time,” she added before taking a sip. The deep red was smooth and rich, warming her instantly.

Harry leaned against the counter, watching her with an amused expression. “So, homemade brownies, huh?”

She arched a brow. “Surprised?”

“A little,” he admitted, tilting his head. “Didn’t peg you for the baking type.”

Y/N scoffed, feigning offense. “Excuse me, I am a woman of many talents.”

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

She tapped her fingers against her glass, pretending to think. “Well, I can run—most of the time, without falling. I can read an entire novel in a day. And I make a mean grilled cheese.”

Harry laughed, taking a sip of his wine. “Impressive resume. But I’m gonna need to try one of these brownies before I believe the baking claim.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ll be thanking me later.”

He nodded toward the living room. “Come sit while dinner finishes up.”

She followed him to the couch, sinking into the plush cushions as he took the spot next to her. The warmth of his home, mixed with the lingering scent of whatever he had cooking, made everything feel comfortable. Easy.

“So,” she said, turning toward him slightly, “is this how you usually spend your nights off? Cooking elaborate meals and drinking expensive wine?”

Harry huffed a quiet laugh. “Not exactly. My nights off are pretty rare, so when they do happen, I try to enjoy them. Sometimes that means cooking, sometimes it means catching up on sleep.”

Y/N took another sip of wine. “Well, I feel honored that I made the cut.”

“You should,” he teased, smirking over the rim of his glass.

She nudged his knee with hers. “And here I was thinking you were this super serious doctor with no time for fun.”

Harry raised a brow. “You think I’m serious?”

“At work? Absolutely,” she said. “You were all business when you stitched me up.”

“To be fair, you were bleeding all over my floor,” he pointed out.

She laughed, shaking her head. “True. But you did joke about battle scars, so maybe I should’ve known you weren’t completely serious all the time.”

Harry shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I have my moments.”

Their eyes met, and for a second, the playful teasing faded into something quieter. Warmer. Y/N felt it settle in her chest, the realization that she liked sitting here with him, talking with him like this.

Before she could say anything else, a soft chime sounded from the kitchen. Harry glanced toward it, then back at her. “That would be dinner.”

She smiled, leaning back against the couch. “Alright, Doctor. Show me what you’ve got.”

Harry chuckled, standing up. “Prepare to be impressed.”

Harry made his way to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he moved with practiced ease. Y/N watched him for a moment, sipping her wine, enjoying the sight of him in his element. There was something effortless about the way he moved—graceful, confident, like he belonged in any space he stepped into.

“You need any help?” she called out.

He glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “I’ve got it under control.”

She grinned, setting her glass down before getting up anyway. “I don’t mind playing sous-chef.”

He shook his head but didn’t argue as she wandered over, leaning against the counter beside him. The warm, savory scent of spices and herbs filled the air, and she peeked over his shoulder at the dish he had been preparing.

“That smells amazing,” she said, genuinely impressed.

Harry gave a modest shrug. “It’s a simple dish. Just takes a little time to get the flavors right.”

Y/N raised a brow. “So you can stitch people up and cook? Overachiever.”

He chuckled. “I try.” He glanced at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “What about you? Besides baking world-class brownies, what’s your specialty in the kitchen?”

She exhaled dramatically. “Grilled cheese, remember? I do it really well.”

“Ah, right,” he said, nodding seriously. “That’s a tough one to master.”

She smirked. “Don’t mock me, Styles. You haven’t tried it.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. Maybe next time, I’ll let you cook.”

Something about the casual way he said next time made her stomach flip. She busied herself by grabbing a couple of plates from the counter, trying not to read too much into it.

A few minutes later, Harry was plating the food, and Y/N helped set the table. Once everything was ready, they sat across from each other, the dim lighting adding an unexpected intimacy to the moment.

Y/N took her first bite, humming in approval. “Okay, yeah. This is incredible.”

Harry smirked, taking a bite of his own. “I’m glad you approve.”

They ate and talked, falling into the same easy rhythm they had earlier. Y/N learned more about his life outside of work—his love for music, the way he sometimes played the guitar to unwind, his favorite places to travel when he had the rare chance. He asked about her job, about the books she had worked on, about the things she wanted to do outside of publishing.

Time passed quickly, their plates empty before they even realized it.

Harry leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine. “Alright. I think I’m ready to try these famous brownies now.”

Y/N grinned, standing to grab the tray. “Prepare to have your expectations blown.”

She set the brownies down between them, cutting a piece for each of them. Harry took a bite first, pausing as he chewed.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “If you say anything less than amazing, I’m walking out that door.”

He swallowed, setting his fork down before nodding. “Alright. I won’t say it.”

Her jaw dropped. “Harry.”

His lips twitched, and finally, he gave in. “Fine. They’re amazing.”

She let out a satisfied hum, leaning back in her chair. “That’s what I thought.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re very competitive.”

“Only when I know I’m right,” she said, flashing him a teasing smile.

Harry took another bite, shaking his head fondly. “Noted.”

The night continued, conversation flowing effortlessly between them. At some point, they had both abandoned the dining table, moving back to the couch with their wine. The music from the record player hummed softly in the background, adding a warmth to the space that Y/N found herself completely at ease in.

Harry motioned toward the couch, nodding for her to join him. “Come sit. I’ll clean up later.”

Y/N hesitated for only a second before giving in, grabbing her wine glass and settling onto the couch beside him. Maybe it was the warmth of the room, the soft music playing in the background, or maybe it was the wine, but she felt drawn to him in a way that was impossible to ignore.

He sat close, not enough to cross any lines, but enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. He took a slow sip of his wine, his gaze flickering toward her before he smirked.

“You know,” he said, setting his glass down on the coffee table, “for someone who nearly took themselves out with a sidewalk crack, you carry yourself pretty confidently.”

Y/N let out an incredulous laugh, lightly nudging his arm. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly. “I mean, I did quite literally save your leg. You might owe me a little good-natured teasing.”

She rolled her eyes but could not help the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. I’ll allow it. But if you ever trip over something, I will be keeping score.”

Harry hummed, pretending to consider. “Fair enough.”

She took another sip of her wine, setting the glass aside before shifting slightly to face him. “So, is this your signature move? Luring women in with wine and homemade meals?”

He raised a brow, smirking. “If it was, do you think it’s working?”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the teasing back on her. She bit her lip, narrowing her eyes. “I think I’m going to need more evidence before I make a final judgment.”

His smirk deepened, his green eyes flickering over her face. “Guess I’ll just have to prove myself, then.”

Something shifted in the air between them, a quiet tension settling in, thick and unspoken. Y/N could feel her heartbeat pick up slightly, her stomach flipping at the way he looked at her—not in a way that was rushed or expectant, but like he was simply waiting. Giving her the space to decide what happened next.

She exhaled, shaking her head with a soft laugh. “You really are annoyingly charming.”

Harry grinned, resting his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers just inches from her shoulder. “I try.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “How’s the knee?” he asked, nodding toward her leg.

Y/N glanced down, instinctively reaching for the fabric of her pants before looking back at him. “You want to see your handiwork?”

He chuckled, setting his wine down. “Of course. I take pride in my work.”

Rolling her eyes but smiling, she shifted slightly, pulling up the leg of her pants just enough to reveal the faint scar where his stitches had been. The skin had healed beautifully, barely a trace of the injury left behind.

Harry leaned in slightly, his fingers brushing over her shin just above the scar. “Not bad,” he murmured, tilting his head as he studied it. “Looks like I know what I’m doing.”

She laughed. “I’ll give you credit where it’s due.”

His thumb traced lightly over the skin for just a second before he looked up at her. “You said this one healed better than most?”

Y/N nodded, exhaling through her nose. “Yeah. I’m kind of clumsy. I have a few more from… various unfortunate incidents.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Care to share?”

Smirking slightly, she pulled up the sleeve of her sweater, revealing a faint, thin scar along her forearm. “Kitchen accident. I may or may not have grabbed a baking sheet straight out of the oven without a mitt.”

Harry let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. “Impressive.”

She moved her hand to her knee, pointing at a faint scar along the side. “This one was from when I fell off my bike as a kid.”

He nodded, his gaze flickering over her skin, his fingers still resting against her shin. “Seems like you’ve been keeping me in business for years without even knowing it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but before she could respond, Harry’s voice dropped slightly, his smirk returning.

“Well,” he murmured, his thumb grazing over the edge of her knee, “if you ever need a more thoroughcheck-up…”

Her breath caught as his words sank in. She looked up at him, finding his green eyes already locked on hers, dark with suggestion. His hand rested lightly against her thigh now, the warmth of it seeping through the fabric of her pants.

Her gaze flickered over him—the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his tongue flicked briefly over his bottom lip, the tattoos that curled up his forearm, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his sweater. Everything about him in that moment felt intentional, his presence heavy in the best way possible.

She swallowed, tilting her head slightly. “Is that part of your medical expertise?”

Harry’s smirk deepened, his fingers pressing slightly into her thigh. “Only for special patients.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had known there was something between them since the moment he had knelt in front of her on the sidewalk, but now—sitting here, with his hands on her, his voice low and smooth, his eyes watching her like he was waiting for her next move—she realized just how much she wanted to find out where this could go.

Y/N barely had time to process before Harry's hands tightened around her waist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled her flush against him. The heat from his body engulfed her, the air between them humming with a palpable desire.

His eyes scanned her face intently, gauging her reaction. "Is this okay?" he asked in a hushed tone, his voice hoarse with anticipation.

She nodded, a gasp escaping her lips. It wasn't enough. She nodded once more, this time with urgency, her fingers clutching onto his sweater as if to pull him even closer herself.

That was all the permission he needed.

Harry's lips found hers, tentative at first, seeking permission as their mouths explored each other. But when she responded eagerly, he deepened the kiss with fervor. One of his hands trailed up her back, his fingertips dancing along her spine, while the other hand remained on her thigh, pressing her firmly against him.

His taste was intoxicating – reminiscent of rich red wine that warmed her in a way that made her head swim. It was how he kissed her that left her breathless – unhurried yet confident as if he'd been longing for this moment.

Y/N's hands wandered up to Harry's broad shoulders, feeling the tense muscles beneath her fingers. Her heart raced as he tilted his head, their noses brushing against one another before their tongues tangled in an intimate dance that sent shivers down her spine.

When they finally broke apart just enough to catch their breaths, Harry's forehead rested against Y/N's as they shared a hot exhalation.

"Well," he breathed out, a thumb caressing circles on her hip. "That escalated."

Y/N released a shaky laugh, keeping her eyes closed. "Yeah. Not complaining though."

Harry chuckled softly, tightening his hold momentarily before relaxing again – as if still unsure whether or not to let go. "Me neither."

She opened her eyes, finding his already locked on hers, the green of them dark with desire. He scrutinized her for a moment, and for the first time since this began, he appeared hesitant.

"I don't want to rush anything," he confessed in a gentle whisper. "Tell me if this is too much."

Y/N smiled softly, shaking her head. "It's not."

His lips curved at the corners as his hand moved from her back to cradle her cheek, his thumb stroking softly along her jawline. "Good."

And then, as if that was the reassurance he needed, their mouths fused once again – an explicit display of unspoken yearning.

Y/N barely had time to catch her breath before Harry kissed her again, deeper this time, like he had been holding back. His hand cradled her face, fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her even closer. The warmth of his body, the way his lips moved against hers—it was overwhelming in the best way.

She felt herself sinking into him, her hands exploring the solid planes of his shoulders, the way his muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. Harry let out a quiet sound against her lips, his grip tightening at her waist before he shifted, guiding her back against the couch.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with restraint.

“I don’t,” she whispered, her breath hitching as his lips trailed along her jaw, down to her neck. “I really don’t.”

Harry exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against hers for just a moment before nodding. “Come with me,” he said, his voice lower now, edged with something deeper.

He stood, pulling her up with him effortlessly, his hands never leaving her as he guided her toward his bedroom. The moment they stepped inside, the energy shifted—more intimate, more charged. The dim light cast soft shadows across the space, the faint scent of him lingering in the air.

Harry’s hands found her waist again, but this time, they moved slower, more deliberate. His lips hovered just over hers, waiting for her to close the distance. She did.

Their movements became unhurried, hands exploring, lips seeking. Harry took his time, his touch reverent, like he wanted to memorize every part of her. He guided her gently onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, his kisses deepening, his breath growing uneven.

“Are you sure?” he asked one last time, his green eyes searching hers, his thumb stroking slow circles against her hip.

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding, but there was no hesitation when she whispered, “Yes.”

Harry exhaled like he had been waiting for that, then kissed her again, slow and consuming, as the rest of the world faded away.

The night unfolded slowly, each moment stretching with quiet intensity. Harry took his time, his touch gentle yet sure, as if he was memorizing her, learning her in a way that felt deeply personal. There was something unspoken in the way he moved—no rush, no urgency, just deliberate care, like he wanted her to feel everything, every thrust, to know this was not just a fleeting moment.

Y/N responded in kind, matching his pace, her hands mapping the lines of his body, tracing the tattoos inked into his skin. She felt the strength in him as he moved within her, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch, the way his breath hitched when she explored the places he liked most, like the spot where his shoulder met his neck. It was intoxicating, feeling him unravel beneath her hands just as much as she was beneath his.

The room was warm, wrapped in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The faint sound of the city outside was distant, muted by the heavy presence of him—the weight of his body, the heat of his breath, the way he murmured her name against her skin, and the way he moaned with pleasure.

He kissed her deeply, lingering as he pulled back just enough to look at her. “You okay?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek, his voice quieter now, rough with emotion.

She nodded, her lips parting as she exhaled, still catching her breath. “Yeah,” she whispered. “More than okay.”

A slow, satisfied smile pulled at his lips before he kissed her again, sealing whatever words might have come next.

Everything about him was careful, intentional. The way he moved, the way he held her, the way he whispered her name like it meant something more. And maybe it did.

By the time they finally settled, tangled in each other beneath the sheets, the night had stretched into early morning. Y/N felt the rise and fall of Harry’s chest beneath her cheek, his arm draped lazily around her, fingers tracing light patterns against her skin.

Neither of them spoke for a while, content in the silence, in the warmth of the moment.

Then, after a long breath, Harry murmured, “That was worth the wait.”

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh against his skin, tilting her head up slightly. “Yeah?”

He looked down at her, his expression softer now. “Yeah.”

She smiled, letting her fingers trail along his arm, tracing one of the tattoos there. “So… do I get to keep my status as your favorite patient?”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he tightened his hold around her. “You were always my favorite.”

Y/N felt warmth bloom in her chest at his words, though she knew he was teasing. Mostly.

She sighed, her eyes growing heavy as sleep started to pull at her. “Hope you don’t have an early shift.”

Harry hummed, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry about that,” he murmured. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

And with that, Y/N let herself drift off, safe in the warmth of him.

Y/N woke to the feeling of warmth surrounding her, the faint scent of something woodsy lingering in the sheets. The room was dim, early morning light barely filtering through the curtains. It took her a moment to remember where she was, why she felt so comfortable, why the bed beneath her wasn’t her own.

Then, she felt movement beside her.

Harry.

She turned her head slightly, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she found him still lying beside her. His arm was draped over his pillow, hair slightly tousled, his breathing slow and steady. He looked completely at peace, his features soft in the early morning light.

A small smile tugged at her lips. She had not expected to wake up like this, wrapped in his sheets, in hisspace, but it felt… nice.

She shifted slightly, stretching out her sore muscles. Harry stirred at the movement, inhaling deeply before his eyes fluttered open.

His gaze met hers, and for a second, he just looked at her, like he was still processing where he was, too. Then, a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” she echoed, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Harry let out a low hum, stretching his arms above his head before rolling onto his side to face her. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Sleep okay?”

She nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah. Better than I expected.”

His smirk was lazy, teasing. “Better than your own bed?”

She scoffed, nudging him lightly with her foot beneath the sheets. “Don’t push it.”

He chuckled, letting his hand rest on her hip, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against her skin. The weight of his touch was grounding, making it hard to focus on anything but him.

“Stay for breakfast?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now.

Y/N hesitated, not because she didn’t want to, but because she hadn’t expected the night to bleed into the morning like this. She thought maybe she would slip out before he woke up, before they had to talk about what this meant. But now, with him looking at her like that, like he wanted her to stay, she felt the hesitation fade.

“What’s on the menu?” she asked, raising a brow.

Harry grinned. “That depends. Do you trust me in the kitchen?”

Y/N bit her lip, pretending to consider. “I suppose you did impress me with dinner last night.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging her closer playfully. “You’re impossible.”

She laughed, but the sound was cut off when he leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against her lips. It was different from last night—less urgent, more lazy, like he had all the time in the world to do this.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “So… breakfast?”

Y/N sighed dramatically, pretending to give in. “Fine. But only because I want to see if you’re as good at pancakes as you are at stitches.”

Harry smirked, his fingers grazing over her bare skin beneath the sheets. “Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

She laughed softly, knowing full well that she had no plans of leaving just yet.

160 notes · View notes

whatifitis · 1 day ago

Text

♡ 150 reasons - LN 4 ♡

Summary: 150 reasons why lando loves you

Author's note: idk i thought it'd be nice

CW: literally just fluff

Hi baby!! :D

I saw this trend on tiktok just now and wanted to do it for you. I love you a lot and you know how hard it is for me to show it sometimes. I thought this could be a nice small way to at least show you a bit of how much I love you. My love for you knows no boundaries. <3

P.S. if there’s any misspelings dont say shit cause im dyslexic and you know that :(

Your smile

Your eyes

The way your eyes sparekl all the time

Your rosy cheeks

Your wavy hair (you hate it but u love it)

Your heart

Your brain

Your patience with evrything (including me)

Your honesty

Your inteligence

Your humor

The way you’re always there for anyone. Doesnt mater if u know them well or not

You always listen to people and help them when they need it even if your tired

You challenge me and help me become a better person

You never judge me

You make me feel safe

You believe in me, even when idont

You inspire me everyday whether it’s work related or just life in general

You’ve seen teh good and the bad in me and you still love me

You laugh at all my jokes even if they suck

You’re my best friend (🎶you can hear it in the silence🎶)

You respect my space when i need it, even if i go about it awfully (when writing ‘about it’ i accidentally wrote ‘tit’ :I)

You give the best fucking hugs

When i get anxious, you always help me, even if it’s just when you sit with me and help me breathe

You took the time to learn about me and my mental struggles so that you could help me better

You make life so much more better

You remind me that i’m worth more than i think i do

You chose me

You make me blush and happy

Your music taste is amazing as well (btw i got us tickets to see Noah Kahan)

You’re like my personal google and dictionary

You get along with my family

My mum loves you (i think she loves u more than she loves me ngl)

You get along with max and you mock sometimes and it makes me laugh so much

You stay even if im mean and dont deserve it

You sacrifice a lot

You always put others before you

You don’t mind my gaming (even when i keep you up late with my screaming)

You always listen to me talk about the things i like

You hold my hand in public (it sounds stupid but it makes sense ok so shut it) <3

You never give up on me

You bring out the best in me

Max said he hadn’t seen me so happy until i met you

You make me feel lucky to have u

You support my career and stuff even though it gets really hard sometimes

You make the bad days better

You make everyday better as well, not just the bad ones

You never make me feel bad or ashamed about feeling certain ways

You always validate me when i need it

You never lie to me

You always tell me straight up when im the one in the wrong

The way you smell

The way you look when u see me

The way you hold me tight even if i’ve just raced singapore and am sweating out of every crevise

You stay strong for the both of us

Your attitude

Your kisses

You’re always down to play video games with me (IM SORRY FOR IT TAKES TWO I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS HARD)

The way you call me your love

You stand up for me even when im not deserving of it

Your cooking skills

The way you play with my hair

How we’re able to joke with eachother

The way you tell stories

The way you talk in general

How funny you were when telling me about work and snot shot out of my nose

You match my freak

Your singing (even if its off key sometimes)

You never doubt me

U dont mind my clinginess (sorry about scaring u in the shower the other day as well)

You never tell me to go away

You always communicate with me

You plan things for our future

When you send me vlogs when im away (or even when im home but youre at work)

You make my heart feel full

You’re consistent with loving me. Whether you’re sad or mad or happy or anything, you still love me the same

Youre never too busy for me

The way we can just sit in silence together and do nothing but still have fun

The way you help me pack when im getting ready to travel

The way you pack my favorite snacks for me when im going away for a while

We can share victories together, big or small (lol big or small, ya know, like dicks)

You never make me feel alone

You watch stupid ass movies with me all the time

You dont get mad at me when you try to teach me to play valorant (it’s fucking hard, csgo is better anyways)

The way your face lit up and you started talking faster when you were talking to me about your favorite artist

The way you speak to me so gently when i need it

The way you make a playlist for every mood possible

The way you make a playlist for every book you read, even if the book was bad

How you insist we don’t have enough driving playlists so we always make more

The way you introduce me to new things (i still wont try fish, screw that)

Youre adventurous

You put up with my shananigens

The way you made a million stickers on whatsapp

How you always say ‘i love you’ with the ‘i’

When you tell me goodmorning and goodnight even if youre mad at me

How you help me dress better

How u kiss me in a way that screws me up forever

How you always ask me about my day

How you always put your leg on mine

How you show me how forever feels

How you put up with my stupidity (I REALLY THOUGHT THE MATTRESS WAS GONNA HELP)

You’re gonna be an amazing mum someday

How you spam me with tiktoks

Your laugh is the best sound ive ever heard

Youre beautiful inside and out

How u were able to make me laugh even after i’d poked by hand with a knife when i tried cutting an avocado

How you helped me escape the bed sheet when we discovered my new found claustrophobia

How you always rep mclaren and quadrant merch

How you always make backed goods and make them healthy sometimes so i can still eat them

How when we’re out and you can tell im anxious

And when you realize it you find small ways to ground me like holding my hands or tapping my foot with yours

You love the pictures i put in the new digital frame (you cant lie and say u dont like yassified alonso)

If im hungry in the middle of the night, you join me in snacking or ordering a whole pizza

How you know you’re lactose intolerant but still eat dairy filled foods

And how you lock me out the room when you have to deal with the aftermath of eating dairy

How you're already naming our future children

How you laugh til you cry at 3 in the morning from watching tiktoks

And waking me up to watch them with you

How you get so excited when talking to me about the last book you read

How you tell me about the book theories you hear and your own theories (violet’s mom was definitely venin)

How when u find me snacking in the middle of the night, you don’t question it

How we have dance parties in the living room

How you quote random things all the time, especially tiktok sounds

Your love for musicals

How you say “me and boq” every 5 mins

Your unconditional love for not just me, but everyone

Your love knowing no boundaries

The way you didn’t get scared away when faced with so much hate and shit when we first started dating

Your strength

How you learned the “wait, they dont love you like i love you” thing in different languages

Your high streak on duolingo

Your creativity

Your piano skills

Your love for celsius (although it’s not good for you and you should probably slow down on them :( try coffee instead)

How you and my mum go shopping together all the time

How you’re invited home more than i am…

Your dedication to work

Your work ethic (it’s not the same as the reason above)

Your vast knowledge of everything in Marvel

How you interact with the fans

How you show me off in every way possibel (i might've said this already)

How you help me with quadrant shit

How you give me a room tour anytime youre somewhere new

The light you emit

The way you make everything so much brighter

How you always try to learn new things (we should try tarot reading again, that one was fun and we can scare the shit out of max with it)

The way you never let go no matter what

The way you always give back to people

The way you live everyday like it’s the last

The way you love me and hold onto me

162 notes · View notes

harmonysanreads · 3 days ago

Note

i feel like yan!phainon wouldn't want to restrain you physically like tie you up or keep you locked up in a room and etc i think he'd have some form of self-conscience that he's a hero and that doing the above will make himself seem otherwise so he like protects darling at all costs and ends up being overprotective (like the last post you made) because he doesn't want to resort to physically restricting behavior? unless you make things difficult for him but that's just how i think of him for now whjebdjwhebewf praying hoyo cooks with him

I was quite certain about this as well but after recent news of Flame Reaver, a different thought is bugging me if I am to be honest.

Frankly speaking, for an unknown duration of time, Phainon was a man who had nothing left ; his home, the people he once held dear, even his true name had to be left behind. Only vengeance, hatred, a desire for revenge or, perhaps a promise he'd made kept him living an excuse of an existence. You could say that is still the case now, on a deeper level at least. But Phainon would like to not dwell on the negatives all the time. He has a valiant objective, a name that instigates respect among the people, friends that he can fight alongside with, status and wealth.

However, is he sure that those are things he... wants? In a temperate mood, he might say yes. But in all honesty, he isn't sure. In a particularly low-point in his life, he might outright say no, as well. But there is something else, someone else that makes his heart ache at the thought of letting go and leaving behind — you. You're not someone that was pushed to him to carry like all his duties, even if you are, he'd rather take a meteor to his face than give you such label.

Saving Amphoreus through the Flame-Chase? Getting vengeance in Aedes Elysiae's name? Nothing comes close to what he feels when the possibilities are replaced with your name. This is the one mission he'd put all his certainty to. If he is destined to be a hero, he'd much rather be your hero — or, try to. In the beginning it was relatively easy and it was rather difficult to complain about his ‘antics’ when they could be rationalized with some thinking. Not that many people would be bothered to think either, whatever keeps their prophesized Deliverer happy they guess.

Things truly start to become complicated when a shadow from a distant time gets involved in the picture — for you, that is. You see, despite how suffocating Phainon would get in the past, it was well-known to everyone that you held the reigns in the end. It was always ridiculously easy to get Phainon to bend to your will as well, as despite everything, he is a simple man deep down. So, when one day you find your usual tactics completely fail against him, faced with a determination to keep you hidden like he'd die the most gruesome death without making it a reality — no one knew what to do.

Phainon apologizes to you without sparing a breath throughout the ordeal, groveling for a sin he knows he won't receive mercy for. But that is okay, he's always said that he'd take it with a smile even if you sneered at him with a death-sentence. As long as you're safe from that other him, he's willing to go to whatever low is necessary.

#if hyv does not give me phainon vs flame reaver beef i will.. uhm... create my own :p #phainon #phainon brainrot #yandere phainon #yandere phainon x reader #phainon x reader #hsr spoilers

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kirain · 1 day ago

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Part five of my appreciation project.

@bbluxart A fic based on their wonderful art piece here and here. Thank you for feeding the fandom!

Emmrich sat at his desk, the soft scratch of his quill the only sound in the dimly lit study. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he penned the final lines of his acceptance speech, each word weighed with meticulous care. Though sleep clouded his mind, he ignored it—this was far more important.

"'You cannot imagine how much I'... no. 'I cannot thank you enough'? No, that's not it."

Stacks of parchment surrounded him, some filled with earlier drafts, others littered with notes and revisions. The candle beside him burned steadily, casting a bright glow over his work—until a shadow suddenly fell across the page.

Kalais, his elven goddess. She leaned over his desk, arms braced against the wood, her face close enough that he could smell the faint trace of lavender on her skin.

"Are you really going to spend all night scribbling away when you could be spending time with me?" she asked, her voice lilting with mock petulance.

Emmrich chuckled, not looking up. "Tempting as that is, I do have to finish this. The university expects something... coherent, at least."

Kalais sighed dramatically, shifting so that she blocked more of his light. "Are you saying I have to wait to be showered with attention?"

"That does seem to be the case." He finally lifted his gaze, amused. "Though, if it helps, I'm already looking forward to it."

Kalais smirked but said nothing. Instead, she pushed off the desk and stretched, as if preparing to wander off and find something else to entertain herself with.

"Wait, Kalais? Before you turn in," Emmrich said, his voice unusually timid. "I did want to ask—would you accompany me?"

She froze. "To the... ceremony thing?"

"Yes." His expression steeled, no longer flirty, but earnest. "It would mean a great deal to me if you came along."

Kalais forced a smile before he could see the apprehension flicker across her face. "Is this, uh... fancy-fancy? Like, with wine and cheese and hors d'oeuvres and... all that?”

"Yes, but don't worry about that. I just want you there. To celebrate with me."

Kalais hesitated for only a moment before she gave him a breezy grin. "Well, when you put it like that... how can I possibly say no?"

She sounded excited—at least, she hoped she did. Inside, doubt churned in her stomach, but Emmrich was looking at her with such expectance, such conviction, she couldn't bring herself to refuse.

"Marvellous," he sang, relieved. "It wouldn't feel right without you there."

Kalais turned away before he could catch her uncertainty. "Guess I'd better find something to wear, then," she winked over her shoulder.

"Oh, you'll look stunning no matter what you choose, my darling."

Kalais flashed a cheerful wave as he watched her go, her playful bravado intact. But as she closed the door behind her, her smile slipped, and she wondered if she'd made a mistake.

-----

The grand hall of the university glistened with an inescapable air of prestige. Golden chandeliers loomed over rows of blackwood tables and chairs, their polished surfaces reflecting the green glow of countless candles; all lit with a necrotic magic Kalais couldn't even begin to comprehend—and the room was bustling. Scholars and dignitaries from across the kingdom and beyond had gathered to celebrate Emmrich's vast achievements.

Emmrich.

Professor Emmrich Volkarin of the Mourn Watch—a title she'd heard him use only once, the day they met. Yet tonight, it was spoken by every person who shook his hand, clapped his shoulder, and vied for his attention. It was so formal. So unfamiliar.

"I am profoundly grateful to be standing among you this evening. May we continue to expand our knowledge for centuries to come, and make the unknown known."

Applause thundered through the chamber as the university president fastened a medallion of honour around Emmrich's neck, its emblem catching the light. Kalais couldn't be on stage with him, but she smiled as she watched, his speech brief yet brilliant. She knew almost nothing about his research, but she did know this meant a lot to him—a recognition hard-earned and long overdue.

As he accepted his award, she stood at the back of the hall, clutching a single branch of lilacs in her hand. The flowers were delicate, their fragrance a comfort to her anxious heart. She had spent the last of her coins on it, knowing it was Emmrich's favourite; rivalling even his love of Weeping Widowers, but she'd kept it hidden until the proper moment, hoping to surprise him.

Once, he had shared a memory of his late mother tending lilac bushes in her garden—a memory that often brought him peace. He didn't remember much of his parents, but those memories were bright, often triggered by the syrupy-sweet scent and pastel purple hue. Perhaps, Kalais thought, it would make him feel as though she were there, relishing in her son's achievements.

As the awards drew to a close, he stepped off the stage, waving her forward. Kalais nodded, but as she moved closer, her confidence wavered. Emmrich was surrounded by nobles in tailored suits, scholars in richly adorned robes, and students whose laughter rang with the ease of privilege. She wasn't one of them. She wasn't an academic or a necromancer. She had never belonged in a place like this, and she knew that sentiment was shared.

"Goodness, look who's here," a sharp voice cut through the crowd.

Kalais paled.

Vanessa Schulzer, one of Emmrich's fellow professors, stood with a small cluster of colleagues, all of whom had made their disapproval of their relationship abundantly clear. Kalais had met them once before in the Necropolis, during a perilous expedition. They had mistaken her for a tomb robber, their accusations tempered only by Emmrich's intervention.

"If it isn't... what was your name again? Kaless?"

"Kalais," she answered plainly.

"Oh, that's right," the woman cooed. Her vibrant gown and pearly chains of office glittered—a stark contrast to Kalais' threadbare dress. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here," she continued, her tone pure politeness and venom.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be?" Kalais asked, holding back for Emmrich's sake.

"Not at all. As I said, I'm just surprised. After our... introduction in the Necropolis, I didn't get the impression you had much interest in our craft."

"I wasn't stealing," Kalais groaned.

"Of course you weren't, dear. Of course you weren't. I only meant you seemed slightly out of your depth."

An uncomfortable silence, before the woman laughed delightedly, swirling the glass of wine in her hand.

"Quite the evening, isn't it? A true celebration of academic excellence." She took a sip, her cold, azure eyes studying Kalais like a jeweler appraising a flawed gem; searching, scrutinising. "Would I be correct in assuming this is your first time attending an event such as this?"

The others snickered, the gibe conspicuous.

"First time, yeah," Kalais smiled. "We've been so busy saving the world, we haven't had much time for diversions. But we made an exception for this."

The group frowned, visibly irritated, but they recovered quickly, Vanessa's eyes flicking to the lilacs in Kalais' hand.

"And what's this?" she asked, her lips curling in amusement. "A gift?"

Kalais flinched, tucking the branch somewhat behind her back. "For Emmrich. To congratulate him."

Another professor, Enrique Webb, chuckled at the display. "How... quaint. I'm sure it will slide in quite nicely with one of the many bouquets he's already received."

"He likes lilacs," Kalais said, trying not to sound defensive.

She failed.

"He does," Vanessa chided. "But lilacs are a copper a dozen. The professor is being honoured for a lifetime of contributions to necromancy, Fade exploration, and magical theory. A single stick of lilacs compared to the rest of the accolades he's receiving tonight—" She winced, feigning sincerity. "Well, I don't mean to disparage your efforts, but it does feel a little insulting. Don't you agree?"

"It's a nice thought," another professor chimed. "It just doesn't fit the occasion. We call that 'undervaluation', and it's taken very seriously here."

"I bought him one of those revolutionary new pens I've been hearing so much about," Enrique said proudly. "It will be instrumental in aiding his work to come."

"I bought him an engraved cluster ring," another woman added. "Enchanted, of course, to read the proximity of spirits."

"Doesn't he already have one of those?"

"Yes, but it's tarnished. Volkarin appreciates..." She looked Kalais up and down. "Finer things."

Laughter rippled through the group, their words cutting deep, while Kalais' grip tightened around the branch of lilacs. She had known they wouldn't welcome her, but the sting of their mockery still burned. She glanced towards Emmrich, still engrossed in conversation with the elite, unaware of the exchange. Perhaps they were right, but she wasn't about to give them the satisfaction.

"You don't know Emmrich like I do. He appreciates the finer things, yes, but he appreciates affection more. His mother—"

"Excuse you?" Vanessa snapped. "We've been working with him for decades. Some of us went to school with him. You've known him a total of... six months? That hardly makes you an expert."

"And what exactly are you an expert in?" Enrique pressed. "Volkarin is an intellectual. Above all, he appreciates intelligence the most. You're here to celebrate his accomplishments, but do you even know what they are? Do you understand them?"

"I..." Kalais looked away, her ears drooping.

"We mean no offense, of course," Vanessa sneered. "You're very pretty. I think we're all just a little shocked Volkarin chose such an... unlettered inamorata." She took another sip of her wine, her eyes boring through the young elf like a spear. "I would be happy to educate you on our craft, of course. I am an excellent teacher, after all. You only need to ask."

"That's right," Enrique tittered. "You know what they say—the first step is admitting you need help."

Kalais tensed, her arms shaking. She wanted to tear into them; she could have, but this was Emmrich's night—and they were right. She didn't belong there. Without another word, she turned away, the group's jeers echoing behind her. As she passed a waste bin, she dropped the lilacs inside, their petals trembling, mirroring her despair.

Then, she headed for the doors.

-----

As the celebration wound down, Emmrich wandered the hall, his thoughts preoccupied. He was looking for her, cutting every conversation short as his eyes scanned the room.

"Kalais?" he choked, his tone laced with concern. "Darling, where are you?"

"Good evening, Emmrich," Vanessa said, slithering up beside him. "I believe congratulations are in order—"

"Have you seen Kalais?" he asked hurriedly.

The woman stifled a groan. "Kalais? Who was that again?"

"You know very well," Emmrich huffed. "I arrived with her."

"Ah, yes, the elf woman. Last I saw, she was heading for the buffet."

"She isn't there," he countered, his head turning in all directions. "That was the first place I searched."

"I'm sure she's mingling elsewhere," the woman decried. "In the meantime, I have something for you." With a suggestive glance, she pulled an ornamented box from her purse. "It was a challenge to find, but I managed to—"

"Forgive me, but I really must find her," Emmrich interrupted.

And he walked away, leaving Vanessa shunned and forsaken.

"Kalais!" he yelled over the music and chatter. "Kalais, can you hear me? Please, darling, where are you?"

As he neared the back wall, his eyes caught a flash of mauve, stopping him in his tracks. In the bin, a branch of lilacs lay atop a pile of trash, the colour standing out amongst the manilla wrappers and containers. Curious, he picked it up, its inexorable scent stirring something deep within him.

"Who left this here?" he murmured, running his fingers over the delicate petals.

A voice, faint and otherworldly, answered him.

"One who admires you greatly, Professor."

Emmrich turned to see a translucent figure manifesting behind him—a spirit draped in soft, glowing light. It wasn't uncommon for spirits to gather in the university, especially during celebrations, where emotions ran high.

"With whom do I speak?" he asked, respectfully.

"I am but a watcher of moments, drawn to the pain I witnessed here tonight," the spirit replied.

"An observer," Emmrich said, fascinated, "who witnessed... pain? Here, in this merry hall?"

The spirit nodded. "A pain not marking the flesh, but scathing the soul."

Emmrich's back stiffened with a strangling sense of dread. "Would you be willing to show me?"

"Behold."

The spirit lifted its hand, and the air around them changed. Through its eyes, Emmrich saw the night replay before him like a vivid dream. He saw Kalais approach his colleagues. He saw her expression dull as they spoke cruelly—taunting her, humiliating her. He saw her leave, her head bowed. He saw her drop the lilacs in the bin.

Then, the vision faded.

Emmrich gripped the branch tightly, his heart twisting with anger and sorrow.

He had no idea.

-----

A fair walk from the university, Kalais sat on a bench beneath the night sky, the distant hum of the celebration fading into silence. The cool breeze pricked at her skin, crisp and invigorating, yet it did little to soothe the ache in her chest.

"I'm sorry..." she grimaced.

Her eyes fell to the grass, shame whirling through her like a fever. She had left Emmrich behind, but it was for the best. As insufferable as his colleagues might have been, they belonged in his world—she didn't. He deserved someone who could stand beside him, not someone who struggled to understand the simplicity of self-abnegation techniques for sub-astral navigation.

"Darling?"

Kalais looked up, startled to see Emmrich standing before her.

"Emmrich?" she whispered, rising to her feet. "I just... needed some fresh air." She forced a smile, unaware that it broke him inside and out. "You didn't have to come looking for me. I was just about to head back in—"

"This," he said, holding up the flowers, "means more to me than all the grand speeches and applause I received here tonight."

Kalais gasped, but quickly looked away, embarrassed. "I didn't think you'd want it," she admitted, her voice low. "It just seemed... out of place."

"Out of place?" Emmrich frowned, then stepped closer, his boots nearly touching hers. "You belong, my darling. You belong with me. Never let anyone tell you otherwise." A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she saw the veracity blazing in his eyes. "Those who tried to belittle you this evening—they have much to learn about strength of character. It seems they've forgotten that I myself came from nothing, and I have no qualms about reminding them."

"Emmrich, you don't have to—"

His hands came up, gently pinning the flowers to her dress like a corsage. "Darling, do you know what the lilac represents?"

Kalais paused, her heart racing. "No. What?"

He smiled handsomely. "Love, innocence, youth, and nostalgia." As the stem slipped into the perfect position, he moved his hands to her waist, admiring the way the petals accentuated her natural beauty. "You are my lilac, my love. The sweetest, most precious thing in my life."

"Emmrich..."

Before she could say another word, he leaned in, capturing her lips with his. It was soft at first; gradual, searching, as if coaxing her back from the depths of her insecurity. His lips were both desperate and patient, and the way he kissed her sent a shiver down her spine.

"Mmhm..." Kalais moaned, melting into him before she could realise it, her fingers gripping his coat.

He felt it—and he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with the barest flick of his tongue. The teasing brush sent heat curling in her stomach, and then lower as one of his hands roamed to the back of her head, his fingers lacing through her hair. Kalais responded in kind, parting her lips further, inviting him in as she slipped her arms over his shoulders.

He tasted of wine and something richer—something uniquely him. His tongue stroked against hers, hungry and lingering, turning the kiss from a gentle reassurance into something far more intoxicating. As another moan escaped her throat, he swallowed it thirstily, his other hand squeezing her waist just a shade tighter.

To remind her she was wanted.

In that moment, the world blurred. There was no university, no judgmental scholars, no crushing self-doubt—only the warmth of Emmrich's mouth, the press of his body, the delicious drag of his tongue against hers. This kiss, possessive and passionate, proved to her that he believed she was worth holding onto.

Then—a shimmer at the edge of their vision. A flicker, soft and ethereal. Another. Then more.

Wisps.

Like fallen stars, they drifted from the trees, gliding in slow, captivating spirals. Drawn to the bond between them, they circled the pair, their spectral glow bathing the moment in a hushed, enchanted light, silvery-blue and striking. Kalais felt their presence, the air thick with magic, and nearly pulled away—but Emmrich wouldn't allow it. His hands tightened, his lips pressing harder into hers, sealing them in this perfect, fleeting eternity.

At that, the wisps pulsed, their light swirling in time with the beat of their hearts, as if blessing their love with mystic approval.

They were meant to be.

When Emmrich finally pulled away, Kalais' eyes gleamed, welling with tears. He always saw her, even when she tried to hide herself.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked suddenly, wiping her tears with his thumb.

"But... your party," she wheezed, basking in the sensation of his touch. "And all that... food," she drooled.

Emmrich laughed, her pain seeming to vanish at the prospect.

"Then let's go feast," he said, cupping her chin. "On the wine and cheese and hors d'oeuvres and... all that." Kalais giggled, making his chest swell with ecstasy. "But only if you promise to be the loudest, most outrageous person in the room. No apologies."

She grinned, hugging his arm. "I can do that."

"Good. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Together, they walked back towards the university with their heads held high, the lilacs a solace in the corner of Emmrich's eye.

#emmrich #emmrich volkarin #emmrook #rook x emmrich #dragon age the veilguard #veilguard #da: the veilguard #dragon age #rook #emmrich x rook #fic #fan fiction #romance #romantic #shadow dragon rook

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clairewritesfanfics · 3 days ago

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Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC!Reader Part 1

Synopsis: A depressed, transmigrated fan dedicates their life worshipping their favorite character. (Because not everyone can be a badass like MC.)

Trigger Warnings: depression, mentions of self-harm and suicide attempts

Imagine being a depressed and overworked person, on the brink of throwing away your life, when your attempt is interrupted by an ad of Sylus' voice saying, "I adore you. There is no love purer than mine." Broken and alone, the words of a fictional character sends you to tears and you stop yourself from doing the unthinkable.

Finding hope again, if only in the brief moments spent playing a dating sim, you decided to give life a chance. You continued with the same routine, waking up, going to work, eating the same cheap meals from the convenience store and finding happiness with your favorite character. You used any spare money you had to buy Sylus merch and get all his cards. Life wasn't perfect, but you were content.

Until one day, you were sucked into a mysterious wormhole that transported you to a familiar, otherworldly room filled with rare metals, sparkling jewels and all sorts of weapons. Lying on a bed of velvet was a back all too familiar.

You’ve taken over a hundred photos of that back and have memorized every vein, every muscle, even the way the spine dipped oh so deliciously.

Was this heaven?

Did God take pity on your pathetic existence and decided to give you a second chance?

No, this was probably a dream–”Ow!” You pinched yourself a little too hard. Nope, not a dream.

You glanced at your hands and body, you were still you. In the game, this part is when the Main Character would attempt an assassination, but you weren’t the MC here. There is a chance–no, the chances of you dying here was as good as 99%. You had no powers, no system, skill or cheat to help you here.

But if you were going to die, at least you can go in your own terms.

“Um, excuse me? Hello?”

The dragon said nothing and you opted to crawl towards him. “Mister Dragon? Are you awake?” Knowing that death was almost certain, you decided to throw away all inhibitions and reached out to trace the curve of his spine. “Hello–!”

His cold, spiked tail wrapped around your waist until the tip rested on your chest. You couldn’t help but gasp when your favorite turned to face you.

No 3D rendered model or painting from your world could capture even a tenth of the true thing's magnificence. Official sources said he was 6'2", but the real thing looked like he surpassed two meters. He towered over you completely. Maybe it wasn' height alone but his very aura that made you feel so small.

He was so beautiful.

“My, what do we have here? A stray puppy?”

That voice was smooth and deep as melted chocolate. You wanted to thank God, Buddha, Satan and all other powerful entities for letting you witness this moment.

He stared down at you, assessing everything. If you had known you’d end up here you would’ve taken a bath and worn something better.

“How odd. You have no magic power and you lack any muscle that most assassins and warriors have. It’s almost as if you’re an ordinary person.”

Okay, ouch. But he wasn’t wrong.

You raised both hands. “You’re right, I’m as average as they come.”

“Then tell me what an ‘average’ citizen such as yourself wanted with me.”

You tilted your head in thought before answering, “I wanted to meet you.”

“Surely, you’re joking.”

“I’m perfectly serious.”

“You must take me for a fool.”

“No, I truly did want to meet you.”

“Why are you here? Surely, you didn’t come here to die.”

“No.” Though you were prepared. “I just wanted to see you.”

His eyes can pierce through any lie, but your gaze was as clear as a cloudless sky and without a trace of deception. He was unsure how to feel about this.

“You’re quite bold. But an ordinary person wanting to meet me for the sake of it feels too odd to be true. Quite stupid, even. Did it ever occur to you that I may not be so polite and just end up taking your heart?”

You raised your head, steady and unfearful as you asked, “Will taking my heart make you happy?”

You wanted to tell him that every part of you belonged to him now, but even you would cringe at such cheesiness. You decided to be normal about this. “If my organs will make you happy then take them, but I do have a request.” You wriggled closer. “When you take my heart, please look into my eyes until I die.”

You’ve met your favorite, your savior. In a way, Sylus gave you a second chance at life. It seemed only fitting to perish with him being the last thing you saw.

Sylus stared at you with guarded curiosity. “I’ve never met someone so eager to die before. Either that or you are an excellent liar.” Some humans are trickier than others, they will say anything to get the upper hand.

“Don’t get cocky, human.” His tail tightened around you. “I don’t know what you’re planning but it’d be all too easy to kill you.”

He expected you to resist, to scream or cry or seduce him.

Instead, you covered your mouth, the edges curling upwards despite your efforts to appear serious. But it’s not your fault, he’s so cute when he tries to be menacing! You had no doubt that he’d just kill an NPC, but he will always be attractive to you, even as he threatens to rip your heart out.

“This is no laughing matter. Dragons are territorial, you should’ve thought twice before trespassing into my domain.”

“Sy–ahem, Mister Dragon, please remember my request when you end my life.”

“... I’m really going to do it.”

“I know!” You nodded your head vigorously, the grin you tried so hard to suppress looked ridiculous to him. Compared to throwing yourself in front of a train or overdosing on pills, this was your ideal way to die.

“...”

“... tsk.” He released you and you can’t help but miss the feeling of his tail choking you. Oh, well.

“Mister Dragon?”

He returned to lying on his treasures, back turned away from you.

Not wanting him to think that you were going to backstab him, you got down on all fours and crawled towards his makeshift bed. “Sir Dragon?”

He remained silent.

"Amazing, extraordinary, most handsome and venerable Lord Dragon–”

"Just–” he sighed “–call me Sylus.”

“Really?!”

“This is the part where you tell me your name.” He couldn’t believe he was teaching etiquette to a human.

“Er, right.” You gave him your name. Though with that voice, he can call you whatever he wants.

“I won’t stop you so go back the way you came and leave me be.”

“I can’t.”

“This isn’t a request. Get out while I’m still being patient.”

“I mean, I literally can’t. I’m not from this place and I don’t know how to get back home.” To be frank, you had little interest in returning. Aside from the LADS update, you weren’t going to miss anything. No friends, no family, only superiors who took advantage of you and a cold, barren apartment with a rent that was two months due.

Sylus sighed and rolled over. He lay an arm over his torso, looking gorgeous as he looked at you with eyes full of disdain. “Trying to get me to pity you, isn’t going to work.”

“I’m not.” You didn’t need his or anybody else’s pity. You were simply tired, and you were sick of pretending that you weren’t. When Sylus does lose his temper, then at least you could be honest in your final moments.

To be continued...

#lads #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x y/n #non-mc!reader #non-mc #non-mc!y/n #dragon #dragon sylus #fan #transmigration #drabble #isekai #reader #xreader #xy/n #yn #x yn

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magix-winx-club · 3 days ago

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God, I just want to sleep Part 2

Part 1,

Will make it a three-part series

Daryl Dixon x disabled!reader

Summary: Daryl goes on a supply run for your meds

Warnings: Slight Angst, Daryl being a dick (bc he cannot handle feelings)

Daryl had only gotten a handful of hours of sleep but that was nothing new. He only needed a couple anyways. So when the first light of a new day broke through the iron bars on the window and into the Cell Block he was up, rubbing the sleep from his face. His cell was down to its bare minimum, still not used to having a place to call ‘home’. A bunk bed, like everyone else had, a desk and iron chair, like everyone else had, and a curtain, to give the illusion of privacy. His leather vest was hung neatly over the back of the chair, one of his sleeveless flannels dumped unceremoniously on the desk in front. It took him a while to get used to sleeping without his full gear on. Now he was just dressed in his wife beater and least itchy jeans for bed. No shoes, but his crossbow was still perched next to him.

Daryl bent over putting his worn down boots on, he should make a separate run, bring some new clothes and boots back, especially now that winter was not too far off. Hastily he put his flannel over his wife beater. He still felt weird being so undressed. Next up was his pierced possession, second to his crossbow, the vest and the only item of clothing he really took care of.

Tossing his hair, which had gotten significantly longer now, of sleep and he was off. It was not that he tried to be quiet, he just naturally was, when he made his way almost silently down the stairs to the bottom cells. He almost passed yours when he halted himself. The cellblock was quiet, safe for some snores from the men, the air fresh from the night, not yet stifled by the day's heat, the first morning lights bathing the cellblock in a warm glow. Daryl’s cell might not be home to him but this was the bars, and thick cement walls and roof that kept his family safe.

Sowly, this time trying to be quiet, he made his way to your cell. The privacy curtain is not fully drawn. Daryl did not enter your cell, just watch from the gap between the curtain and the wall, the slow rise of your chest, some tear tracks still visible on your face. Something in him ached, to see you so upset and helpless last night. Helpless or hopeless, or both? Either way it hurt him. You were too kind, too gentle to be burdened like this and if there was something he could do he sure as hell will try.

With a renewed sense of purpose he made his way down to the rest of the cells towards the common room. Maggie sat there, running through her mental checklist like every time before a run. Gun, check. Knife, check. Pack, check. Water bottle, check. Daryl could still see some residue sleep in her green eyes. when she met his blue “Morning Daryl, good to go?” He gave her a curt nod and made his way outside, trusting that she would follow him. “Carol packed us some protein bars.” She handed him one, which he put in the top pocket of his flannel. “Thanks.”

“You are making a run to the big spot in a few days right?” She trailed next to him towards his bike. Daryl wanted to make sure they would be able to get to wherever they needed so instead of a car they’d take his bike. “Yeah, why you need sumthin’?” Maggie shook her head. “No, not me but if you find cinnamon can you bring that back?” Daryl shot her a look. “Takin’ up bakin’ now?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, which made Maggie snort, very much unladylike. “It’s for Y/N.” That got Daryl's attention, already adding the wish to the list in his head. “Thought we could make some compressions. Cinnamon is supposed to be an anti-inflammatory. If you could find one my Daddy could make some for her.” Daryl, humm. Well, if it was not on the list already it would definitely be now.

The soft light streaming into your cell made you feel groggy. Your head felt heavy with sleep but the deep exhaustion that had plagued you yesterday was somewhat gone. Letting out a groan you buried your head in your pillow, hoping to chase away the light for a little longer. In the end the little sleep you got was never enough, and you craved more than anything to turn around and let the warm blanket of nothingness take you again. But you knew, all that would happen would be a state between half asleep, and half awake, no rest, just a war waged between sleepy you and awake you. Yet, you could not bring yourself to open your eyes and face the day. Laying in your bed you pondered yesterday. How exhausted you felt, Daryl’s rough voice and observant eyes and his oh so gentle touch. Once more you were left wondering how a man so rough and strong could be so gentle. Images of him holding Judith, patting Carl on the back, and his occasional smile came to mind. Smiling into your pillow you could not help the skip of your heart. He truly was something else.

Even though you felt embarrassed about yesterday. There was mostly relief, to know that the secret you had locked away for so long, was finally out. The first time in what felt like years you were yourself. That though got you to move, sitting up slowly you tested out your legs. Moving the toes on your left foot, trying to chase away the stiffness, then your foot. You repeated the same process on the other leg before finally taking a deep breath and swinging them over the edge of the bunk. You sat in this position for a bit, testing out how bad your legs were today, and even though they were stiff and it was uncomfortable the cramping had died down a bit. So finally, you got up and got ready for another day.

On the way back to the prison Maggie mused on the fact that Daryl was even more focused than usual. Pushing to raid more places than they normally would. It was not until Maggie had found the jackpod of muscle relaxers that Daryl relented and the both made their way back to the prison. It was in a nursing home, that no one had thought to properly check before they stumbled onto, what Daryl described as ‘shit tone’ of medical supply. Not just supplements, and muscle relaxers but all kinds of stuff. Both of them filled their packs with as much as they could. Maggie noted how Daryl forwent antibiotics for supplements, muscle relaxers and lastly every form of painkiller he could. She had to bite her tongue every time when he hastily put the medication into his bag once she said it was a muscle relaxer. But could not help and let a small smile slip. It was nice to smile even though the place stank worse than anything else, bodies of dead elders everywhere. No wonder no one thought to look here. If it was not absolutely necessary, well and if she did not have a determined redneck leading the charge she would have skipped the place too.

The longer she thought about it the more she wondered. At the end of the world all of them looked like a group of misfits, not looking like they belong together but somehow do. Her thoughts turned to Glenn and she wondered if she had fallen for him before all this? She wanted to think so. But Daryl was arguably the most changed from all of this. He was hard before all this, ready to fight but now he learned gentleness, kindness, and community too. And if there was a person who embodied these traits it would be you. So yeah, from the outset it might look like an odd pairing but if someone would sneak their way into Daryl Dixon's heart it would be you. The thought made her smile even more.

You felt on edge, you had not seen Daryl all day. At first you thought he was avoiding you after last night but you overheard Carol that he and Maggie went on an impromptu run. It eased that anxiety in your chest a bit. And it would have been a nice day if it were not for Hershel’s watchful eye, always following you around. It made your skin itch. You knew he wanted to talk to you, but now was not the time, you told yourself. You had a job to do. And if you were to talk to him, what would you say? This was not something talking can fix. That was the one bad thing about monotone labour such as doing laundry. Your mind had time to think.

The sound of an engine cut through the groans of the walkers and chatter of nearby people. You could not help but whirl your head around so quickly it gave a slight crack. Not a minute later there he was, atop his bike, hair slightly flowing in the wind, his shoulders wide and imposing. He looked so right on top of his bike, weaving through some stumbling walkers.

You put up the last of the washed clothing on the washing line to dry, and made your way towards Daryl and Maggie, ready to help with whatever they had scavenged.

Before you could reach them Hershel was next to them, giving Maggie a quick kiss on the forehead and a hug. He turned to Daryl, saying something you could not make out. Daryl gave him a nod. Seemingly satisfied Hershel clapped him on his shoulder like a proud mentor and went off after Maggie.

Now it was just you and Daryl and it made you nervous. You stopped a bit away from him not knowing what to do. Daryl was busy unclasping his bag from his bike when he made eye contact. Instead of his normal curt nod of his head, he looked away, a slight blush on his face. Taking a deep breath you chose to ignore whatever happened yesterday and act like any other day. “Anything I can help you with?” You reached your hand out, taking the bag he had from him. So his hands were free to unclasp his crossbow from the back of his bike. “Where to?” You chipped. Yes, maybe you were compensating a bit but Daryl still had not looked at you. What if he thought you a burden now? Hated you for being the way you are? The anxiety in you coming back in full force. Gods please let me rewind and do yesterday again. You would just stay in your cell and avoid Daryl at all costs. “Should I bring it to Carol?” Your voice takes on a forceful happiness. “Nah, ‘s for yu,” he glanced at you. Giving you an encouraging nod to hold onto it. Your brows furrowed, staring at the bag.

Daryl watched you closely. You seemed better today, like usual. Almost like last night did not happen but his heart still aches thinking back to the tears in your eyes. How had he not noticed it before? He prided himself on being observant but for some reason he still missed it. Maybe it was because everytime you smiled at him, that was all he could focus on. How he tried to keep the skipping of his heart at bay. Either way he finally was taking care of you know. Thinking about all the days you had suffered in silence made him angry. He wondered how many nights you were sat up like yesterday crying by yourself. An imagine of you on the floor, screaming in pain as Walkers were feasting on your body came to his mind. It made blood rush into his ears and his skin tight, itching, angry.

“Common.” He gripped you on your upper arm. It startled you, it was not like yesterday. His grip is firmer. You could do nothing but trail after him confused by his sudden tenseness in his body. You could practically feel anger rolling off him.

He dragged you into C Block, bypassing some of the family members in the common area and heading straight to your cell. “Daryl?” you asked hesitantly once he dragged you into your cell, pacing in the small room. All at once, he exploded. “What the Hell were ya thinkin’?” Before you could respond he went on. “Nah ya wasn’t thinkin’, was ya?” He angrily ripped the bag from your grasp. You stood there, your mouth slightly open, your eyes wide. For the first time today he was facing you. His body leaning slightly forward and his furious gaze fixed on you. You wanted to say something, to reach out and sooth him but you had no idea how. It was best to just let Daryl be angry and let it all out. At least that is what you all had learned. “Fuck, if I’d not known ya, I woulda left yo ass ri’ht were I found ya.” His finger pointing accusatory at you. A knot formed in your stomach, spreading throughout your body, pumping like blood. This was all you had been scared off, being left, a burden once everyone found out. “Enjoy your shit.” He dumped the contents of his bag on your bed before storming out.

Once his footsteps stopped echoing off the wall you turned towards the bed. What you saw made you choke out a sob. Slowly you sank to the floor, in front of your bunk, curling in on yourself trying to stifle your crying.

Masterlist

Part 3

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 15 hours ago

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Fool's Game 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki Laufeyson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Loki and Bugsy.

Summary: strangers on a train aren’t as strange as they seem.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

He doesn't see her on the platform. It's dismaying but not entirely unprecedented. She clearly wasn't faring well the day prior, perhaps she took some sick time. Funny, for so long as he's followed her, she's been there like clockwork. Just as he had. The few times he forwent the train for a ride with a colleague or instead clocked in late, he was still certain to see her home.

It unsettles Loki as the tracks scream with the arrival of his morning transport. She doesn't board. She simply isn't there.

He stares at the empty seat. Then he looks at his feet. Hers are usually there, sometimes even scuffing his toes as she squirms. It's quite unexciting without the mashing of buttons and the low hum of her headset. He is annoyed by the coughs and sighs of his fellow passengers. They are much more agitating than her addled grunts and groans as she fights her animated demons.

Hm. He can only hope she is taking time to recover from whatever had her so forlorn. He wonders if she discovered his little omen of comfort. Did she have it with tea?

Those thoughts only feed his restlessness. The commute drags on and he is want to shove past the rest of the passengers by the time he reaches his stop. The cramping of his long legs is more nagging that day as he disembarks. When he reaches his office, he finds his coworkers too loud and the lights too bright. He closes himself up behind his closed door and tuts.

He doesn't eat lunch. He has this bad feeling in his stomach. She's fine. He keeps telling himself so but it's hardly convincing.

The train ride home is just despairing. He keeps his leather bag in his lap, not even bothering to tuck it into the overhead. Her seat is filled by another. Not a regular. No, the man is squat and bald and keeps blowing his nose in his sleeve. Where is she?

It is only one day, good man. Settle. He girds himself as he nearly misses his stop.

He does not live far from the station. In the summers, he prefers the walk. The season is almost at an end, he should bask in it while he can. Besides, he needs to untie his nerves.

His condo waits for him in shadows. He flips on the entryway light and sets his bag on the side table. He unties his shoes and places them neatly on the rack. He slides his phone free of his jacket pocket and strides through the dark to his bedroom. He disposes of his blazer, tie, and belt. He undoes a button as he goes back down and enters the kitchen. The fixture above glows at the flick of his finger. He pours a glass of wine and his stomach growls monstrously. He should eat.

She will be back tomorrow. All will be as it should be. He takes out one of his prepped meals and lays it on a small metal tray. He heats it up in the toaster oven, it's always crisper that way. He eats between dry sips.

He doesn't sleep very much. Each time he closes his eyes, he thinks of her. When he opens them too. He rolls onto his side and runs his hand over the empty space. Foolish, he rebukes himself. How he imagines her there, beside him.

The morning rises and he stares at the corners of the room. Get up.

What is he doing? Spending all his time thinking about her? Doing nothing.

His brother might be a bit off with that group of his but they at least want to do something. They just haven't any good ideas. Well, what would he do?

Sweep her off her feet. Somehow. But he hasn't even told her his name. There was the time she caught his phone as he stood and she gave it back to him. He founds his tongue all tied up. Impotent! It is what he is. He cannot get over himself and for what? Look at her. She is so lost. She has only her games and her plushy sweaters and fuzzy bags. She needs guidance. She needs him.

He showers and readies to face the day. To see her. He dabs a bit of his favourite cologne behind his jaw. He doesn't know why. Ah, he is keen on this green tie.

He packs his lunch and shoulders his bag. He stops before he heads out. This place is big. Empty. He could make room. Her shoes would fit next to his. Her coats even. He'd make the space.

Go on, get out of here. Get out of your head.

He gets to the platform and twiddles his fingers. He searches for her. At his height, he can pick out most. His cheek twitches. She is not there. Again. Please, she must be late. Must be.

The train gets there before her. He hesitates. Perhaps he should wait and see if she is running behind. He could take the next, make it up by skipping lunch. Again.

No, he must be off. There is that rather important meeting. He sighs and climbs aboard.

He sits across from the empty seat. It stays that ray as the train lurches forward. Again, he is tormented. He cannot help but come back to that big question; where is she?

Another tedious day. Too many meetings, too much tea. He goes home. Alone. Once more. Like always. He tires of it. He is weary.

A glass of wine and no more sleep. She is not there again. He fidgets until he reaches his building. Then he paces in the privacy of his office.

He dials out to his brother. He does not pick up. No doubt distracted. By his own little hobby. Loki could laugh. The woman is sick, she has enough issues.

He wiles away his day with worry. His brother still will not answer. Hm. He does have that meeting today. He could seek him out there. Perhaps the others will have some advice, not that he would relish in sharing it all with them.

Damned too hell. He will take a half-day. He leaves and catches the train before it can barrel away. He's breathless. He hops off at his stop and nearly trips over himself. He's really doing this.

He is unfamiliar with the route. He knows her address but it is opposite his own. When he finds her building, he is not quite sure what to do with himself.

She's a few floors up. He supposes climbing onto the balcony is a bit much. He is as much a dolt as his brother. What is he doing?

Then he stops short. That bright purple cap assures him before he even sees her face. She crosses the street before she can spot him. He waits until a few cars pass before he follows.

She doesn't sense him. She shuffles along and finds a bench behind a large red building. Some community centre.

He feels ridiculous behind the tree as he leans and listens. She clears her throat. He peeks out as she puts her phone to her ear.

Her conversation is typical. 'Hi' and a few babbles here and there. He can hear the voice on the other end. Then she sniffles.

"I lost my job... dad, please--"

She huffs and he looks again. Her shoulders and head droop. Her phone is on the bench. The call is over.

That explains it. It isn't him at all. She only lost her job. Oh, my. How unfortunate.

Well, this could be an opportunity. For both of them. He just needs to figure how.

He checks his watch. The meeting...

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fool's game #drabble #series #watchers anonymous #mcu #marvel #avengers #Thor

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wordsofwhimsy · 2 days ago

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[A/N: It’s been a looooong time since I last wrote any type of fanfiction, but man, there is something about Mark Grayson that is just… ugh. He’s got me so messed up I had to create a whole new account just to write for him. Lord help me. Any who, I hope some other freaks out there get joy out of this~ Also sorry my formating is lousy. I don't really know how to do all that fancy stuff.]

WARNING: Smut, language. ~☆~

When Mark first saw you, a feeling curled in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t quite articulate. At first he thought it was simply the adrenaline from the battle he was currently fighting in. The enemy had surprised him, knocking him out of the air and causing him to land hard on his feet in the middle of the road. As the dust cloud settled from the small crater he’d created, his eyes landed on you. Your hair blew in a flurry around your face and between the [color] tresses, he could see your expression. A combination of fear, anxiety, and could it be… excitement?

Your eyes locked with his and Mark swore that time slowed down. He sat there, seemingly stunned, looking back at you. His mind drew blank, lips parting slightly as if he suddenly needed to say something. But before any words could come the nameless enemy made himself known again, breaking Mark’s gaze as he stepped directly into his view. Mark’s brows furrowed, fists clenched, and he lunged forward. The fight was over in an instant. As he took a breath and looked back, he found that you were gone. A crowd had formed, and most people now cheering at Invincible’s victory. He gave them a smile and wave, only now noticing the sweat that had built on the back of his neck. Mark swallowed, exhaled heavily from his nose, and exploded upward into the sky to go home.

In the coming hours and days, Mark couldn’t get you off his mind. This is how he knew the feeling in his stomach had nothing to do with adrenaline—at least not from that fight. A week had passed, and Mark was sat in his hero costume on the edge of a bridge looking out over the river. It must have been a quarter to midnight, most people home and in bed. So when a warm voice abruptly rang out to him, breaking the silence, he felt his heart stutter. “You go by Invincible, right?”

He turns to look over his shoulder and sees your small frame, arms folded over your chest while your fingers tight gripped onto your jacket sleeves. Your head was slightly cocked to the side, a single delicate eyebrow quirked upward. “Yeah,” he responds dumbly, making you smile. Mark’s heart stuttered again.

“I was hoping I’d run into you again. I wanted to thank you for the other day.” You take a cautious step closer towards him. You had a fear of heights and didn’t dare get close enough to peer over the edge of the bridge. Mark’s lips turn slightly upward in a soft smile.

“That’s what heroes are for,” he says with a very subtle hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m glad no one was hurt.” Mark swings his legs back over the edge and now stands to face you. He’s got nearly a foot of height on you, and up close you can clearly see the beautiful sculpture that is his body tightly wrapped in his suit. A warmness fires up low in your abdomen.

“Make that two of us,” you laugh and smile fondly at him. “[Name].” You extend your hand in introduction, which he takes without hesitation. His hand is warm as it folds around yours, and he notices how cold you feel.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Name].” You subconsciously furl in your lower lip at the sound of your name on his tongue, cheeks flushing the faintest shade of ruby. Mark notices and finds himself becoming overcome with the same feelings. What is this…?

“This might sound weird, but…” Your eyes flicker around nervously as you build up the courage to get out the words you want to say. “Can I buy you a coffee, or something?” A toothy smile curls onto his lips.

“I don’t typically go to cafes in my suit…” he trails off, stare glancing down at his attire.

“I can make us a pot at my house,” you reply almost too eagerly, not missing a beat. Mark is stunned by this proposal, if only for a moment. He can hear your heart beating loudly in your chest, and the redness in your cheeks has deepened. Seeing his expression you quickly tack on, “I live right around the corner.” Mark’s smile was gentle, and behind the lenses of his suit his eyes softened.

“That sounds nice.”

It was only a five minute walk to your place, and you were grateful to be out of the cold. Moving into your kitchen you shuffle around to start the coffee. Mark watched you, unable to help himself as he looked over your body. You were undoubtedly beautiful, but beyond that there was a deep, primal feeling that overcame him just from the sight you. It had been a month since he and Amber had ended things, and maybe that was complicating his emotions, but he could not deny this one thing: Mark needed you.

“I hope decaf is okay,” you say to him over your shoulder as you scoop the grounds into the coffee filter. “I have to be at work early tomorrow.” You don’t notice that Mark is now directly behind you until you feel his large, strong hands on your shoulders. Your body stiffens.

“That’s fine,” Mark hums as his hand slowly, ever so slowly, move down your arms. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn your head back and looked up at him. Even through his lenses you could feel how heavy his stare was beating down on you. Your mind raced, the warmth in your lower abdomen now igniting all of you.

“Maybe…” you mumble, slightly breathy from your nerves. “After coffee, we can have—” you swallow again and run your tongue over your dry lips. “Dessert?”

The smile was gone from Mark’s face, now replaced with a stern and serious expression. “You know, [Name], I think we scan skip the coffee all together.” And just like that he was all over you, hands feverishly groping at your body and only waiting a moment before touching your most sensitive spots. His lips pressed demandingly into yours and you completely melted into his touch, fingers trying their best to grip onto the fabric of his costume so that you can pull yourself closer to him. His calloused fingers quickly found their way under your shirt and reached around your back, snapping the clasp of your bra in an instant. It falls to the floor and he squeezes your breast with one hand while the other hand grabs a handful of your ass.

You reach up to the seem of his mask with the intent of taking it off when he quickly and strongly grabs hold of your wrist. He breaks the kiss and says, “The suit has to stay on. I’m sorry.” You took this moment to catch your breath, said nothing, and nodded your head in understanding.

“Does mine?” You ask cheekily. Mark gives you a hungry smirk, and before you could think to move he’d completely undressed you and you laid on your back on the kitchen floor. He’d pulled the front of his pants down just low enough to free his thick cock, which he now held in his hand and had positioned unwaveringly at your warm entrance.

“Tonight, [Name],” he huskily murmured into your ear. “You belong to Invincible.” He presses deeply into you and a load moan explodes from your lips.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, eyes squeezed shut as you focus on taking all of him in. He groans, pausing to let you get accustomed to his size, before quickly finding a rhythm that told the truth of where his mind was at—he needed this, needed you, desperately. Your legs come up to wrap around his lower back and hold him close to you. He uses one hand to hold himself up beside your face while the other grips firmly onto your thigh. His teeth are clenched together, and low grunt rumbling in his throat with every hard thrust.

“Take it, [Name], just take it,” he insists through his teeth, almost aggressively. “Show me how grateful you are.” You nod your head desperately, lips parted and quivering. A lightshow sparked behind your eyelids and your mind was completely blank. “Tell me you need this,” he commands of you.

“I need this,” you plead.

“Again.”

“I need this.”

Abruptly Mark pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. Gripping you by the hips, he slams back into your warmth and you both moan in unison. He takes one hand and holds you down by the back of the head, smashing your cheek into the tile floor as your drool senselessly. His thrusts become forceful and deeper than you knew was possible, forcing a long, rambling moan out of your throat. “You need saving huh, you little slut?” he growls.

“Yesss,” you whine, wiggling beneath his stone grip and pushing your ass up until him.

“Of course you fucking do…” You mind was a puddle in the moment and couldn’t form any meaningful thoughts, but later upon reflection you realized that this night was about a lot more than just sex for Mark.

“Say you need me,” he commanded of you again.

“I need you!” You cried back immediately.

“Louder.”

“I NEED you!!” You were pleading at this point and the sound of your voice sent him over the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, he reaches a hand around your front side and found the nub of your clit. You became an unmanageable mess at the overwhelming sensations as he rubbed circles over the sensitive bundle. It was only another minute before you both finished, Mark pulling out at the last possible second and unloading onto your ass.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, his hand wrapped around his dick as he gave it a few final strokes. You laid helplessly on the tile, now thankful for its relieving coolness. Mark sat back on his knees, breathing deeply to try and recompose himself. You closed your eyes and focused on coming back down, too.

“Thank you, [Name],” he hushed after several moments of silence. “I needed that.” He was now back on his feet, and you used all your strength to roll over so you could be looking at him. He was fully dressed back into his suit, and you both just stared at each other blankly.

“Any time?” You respond, not really sure what to say to that. A hint of a smirk quirked onto his lips, and then he was gone leaving behind nothing but a gust of wind. You smiled, breathed, and laid back down onto the tile.

Not exactly the “thank you” you had in mind for Invincible, but hey, at least he appreciated it.

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible fanfic #mark grayson smut #invincible smut #mark grayson x reader smut #invincible x reader smut #invincible

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nephilimeq · 15 hours ago

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Come Fly With Me

Prompt: Surprise

@bucktommyfluffebruary

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/161852191

Tommy let out a sigh as he stepped through the front door of his house, having just gotten off the shift from hell. Normally he loved being in the air—but after the stunts he’d had to pull that day, his entire body felt like one big bruise, and he had no desire to do anything for at least twenty-four hours.

“Hey, babe, is that you?”

Evan.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve got some great news! Like, you won’t believe how awesome it is, I can’t wait to tell you about it,” he called out to him, and Tommy just blankly stared into space, absently kicking the door shut behind him as he let his duffle bag hit the floor with a dull thud. His boyfriend’s enthusiasm was sweet, but the airman found that he couldn’t return the energy and simply grunted back at him as loudly as he could, dropping all of his things just inside the door, kicking his shoes off and leaving them lying haphazardly in the entry way as he made his way towards the living room…

…and then he collapsed face first onto the couch in a tired heap.

He lay there for a while, debating whether or not he should simply fall asleep right then and there, every part of him saying that he should—but his mind scolded him, telling him that his back would hate him for it, and he knew that it was right.

Though that didn’t change the fact that he was far too comfortable…and then he heard footsteps coming from the archway into the living room and absently lifted a hand and waved it, saying in a muffled voice, “Hey, sorry, tired,” and he heard his boyfriend chuckle and say, “Yeah, I can see that. Sorry, babe.”

He then felt a warm hand on his lower back, and he hummed in the back of his throat.

“Mmm, feels nice…” He relished in the touch, and then blearily asked in an attempt to try and engage in conversation, “Wha’s your news?”

“Nothing, never mind. It can wait until later,” and Evan’s light touched turned into a firm, massaging stroke, and Tommy moaned, his mind blue screening and all he could focus on was the way his boyfriend was giving him a much needed massage, eventually bringing in his other hand and removing every inch of the stress of the day from his body. He didn’t know how long it lasted—but it was long enough that his stomach softly grumbled, and Evan chuckled.

“Want me to heat up some leftovers?” he suggested, and Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, would you? I’m just so tired…though the massage seriously helped,” he replied, slowly rising up onto his elbows and casted a look at his boyfriend over his shoulder. “But seriously, before you go get the food, what was your good news? You sounded really excited…”

Evan shook his head.

“It can wait.”

He thought about pushing—but then decided that if Evan said it could wait, then it could wait. He was starving.

Less than twenty minutes later, his boyfriend had brought them both plates from the kitchen laden down with his leftover pasta casserole, and Tommy managed to find enough energy to sit up straight and enjoy every single bite of it, letting out a contented sigh as he popped the top button of his jeans after putting his plate down on the coffee table in front of them, and then propping his feet up on the edge and giving the younger man a loving glance.

Smiling, he said, “I think I might go up another pant size because of you,” and patted his stomach, thinking about the ring that he’d ordered and how he couldn’t wait to get it onto his finger in the next few weeks.

Hopefully.

Evan gave him a half-hearted smile…and then he said, “Hey, uh…I wasn’t going to ask, but about a week ago you took a phone call, and you said you were switching shifts with Lucy this past week—but I heard a man answer the phone when you made the call. I-I don’t want to sound insecure or-or suspicious, but I was just wondering if—if you…”

Tommy felt his breath catch. Shit. That was the phone call he’d received about the ring being ready, and since he’d ended up switching shifts anyway and working exactly when he said he would be working, he didn’t think anything of it—but now his boyfriend had questions and he needed to answer them without tipping him off about the truth…and said, “Yeah, okay, it wasn’t Lucy who called, but I did end up switching shifts with her, so I didn’t lie about that. So, let’s just say…it’s a surprise and I want you to trust me.”

He gave his boyfriend a look.

“Yeah, okay. I can do that…especially since I have a surprise for you, too,” Evan said, giving him a sly look.

“Yeah? What kind of surprise?”

At that, Evan moved his own plate to the side and grabbed at the airman’s hand and gently squeezed it and said, “I, uh…I’ve been looking around at some places, trying to find some information about helicopters and stuff like that…and, uh…well, I found this.”

He pulled out a piece of paper that he’d folded up into his front pocket and handed it to him.

Tommy arched an eyebrow and looked down at the paper, squinting slightly because he didn’t have his glasses—and then Evan said, “Oh, wait, here,” and reached over and grabbed his glasses from the end table on his side, and he smiled as he slipped them on in order to read the paper…

…and then just about swallowed his tongue.

Right there in black and white ink was the words explaining that all he had to do was sign on the dotted line and he would have full ownership of his own personal helicopter and it would be kept at an airfield only half an hour from his house. The payment plan was easy and—to put it in simple terms—was the best fucking goddamn deal he had ever seen for such a high-end machine. Tommy stared at it, baffled, trying to wrap his mind around it.

“Evan, how…how did you…? The-the down payment alone…”

“I saved up for it. I’ve had some money set aside for something like this for a while now,” he softly admitted, giving him a shy smile. “I’ve been texting with Sal, too, and he mentioned that you’ve been looking for a helicopter for a long while, and this…well, it just so happens that I know someone in the business and used a few of my old connections to find something that you would like, and asked Sal to confirm it…so…you like it?”

Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to his lips, one hand wrapped around the back of Evan’s head, and as he pulled back he said, “I have never been so in love with you than I am in this moment,” and Evan chuckled.

“Really? Well, if I knew that finding you a helicopter would earn me this, then I would have done it sooner…”

They shared a smile.

And then Evan added, “You wanna take it up?”

Tommy still couldn’t believe it as he steered the chopper through the air with his boyfriend in the copilot’s seat, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Evan had somehow managed to find him the best deal he had ever seen on such a high-end machine.

The feel of the rotors thumping above his head reminded him of Evan’s heartbeat.

“God, this is so cool!” his boyfriend exclaimed over the headset, and the airman grinned and replied, “Hey, I told you when we met that I would show you a good time!”

It was the next morning after Evan had told him the news about the helicopter, and he was almost giddy with euphoria as he turned them over the dunes and headed back towards the airfield. They had been up in the air for almost an hour, but the bird had been taken up with a full tank, and now it was time to take her back in. There was a familiar sense of freedom as he banked low and wide, purposely angling out over the water, and he wondered if Evan could feel it, too.

Just as he thought about him, Evan suddenly said, “Hey, maybe we could use this for a date night sometime. What do you think?” and Tommy said, “Yeah, sounds like a plan,” already knowing exactly when and where it would be, the thought of a ring being involved making him grin like an idiot.

He was grateful for the size of the headset as it blocked some of his face from him, keeping his boyfriend from figuring out anything too quickly.

It had been next to impossible to make his plans to propose to him when Evan was so focused on him—mind you, he loved the attention, but it was like trying to hide a brand new chew toy from a dog that was constantly following you around all the time. He knew the metaphor was a bit rough, and he didn’t like comparing his boyfriend to a dog, but when they were together, Evan was surprisingly—persistently—almost always in his personal place.

Again, not that he was complaining.

Actually, he kind of loved it.

“You really have an amazing job, babe,” Evan said, taking him out of his head, and he replied, “Evan, we have the same job,” and shot him a sideways glance, and his boyfriend shook his head and said, “No, not really. I mean, we both fight fires, but you…you’re up in here in the sky almost every day seeing things that most people will never see. You have the chance to do things that a lot of people only dream out, you know? It’s really…it’s really somethin’ else,” he finished, sounding genuinely amazed, and Tommy smiled.

He couldn’t wait to marry him.

He finally brought the chopper back to the airfield, landing it with all the skill of someone who had done it over a thousand times before (he had), and as they made their way back to the main gate, he grabbed at his boyfriend’s elbow and tugged him into a corner and then planted a heavy kiss on him, pinning him to the wall as he used his mouth and body to tell him how grateful he was for the amazing, insightful gift.

“Mmf, what…what was that for?” Evan said, pulling back slightly, and Tommy smirked and rubbed his thumb against the base of the younger man’s neck and retorted, “That was for being the most amazing boyfriend ever. I still can’t believe you did this for me, Evan…”

His cheeks pinked and he ducked his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I guess I thought that you deserved it, you know? After everything you’ve done for me and for all the lives you’ve saved over the years, it just seemed like you should have something like this,” he said with an earnestness that made the airman’s breath catch in his throat.

He then used his thumb to tilt Evan’s head back up and levelled his eyes on his.

“You…god, I love you so much,” was all he could think to say…

…but apparently it was enough as his boyfriend’s eyes lit up and he gave him that smile of his that made his heart skip a beat every time he saw it—and Tommy couldn’t help himself and leaned back in and kissed him a second time, this time allowing his thigh to slip between his legs and his hands to wander down to his ass, hoisting him up slightly, using the wall behind them as leverage, thrilled when Evan let out a needy moan and ground down slightly against his leg.

He then panted out against his lips, “Won’t we…won’t we get caught?” and Tommy smirked and said as he pushed his thigh tighter against him, “We’re the only ones here, right now, so no. Wanna fool around?” and he grinned.

God, he loved him.

...he couldn't wait to marry him.

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