it’s a mystery to most— the way park “the shark” is only truly kind to one ED resident. the only one he brings coffee to. doesn’t glare at or mutter snide comments toward. the only one he tolerates. little miss sunshine, who unlike her colleagues, doesn’t shy away from the intimidating ortho surgeon. never hesitates to put him in his place, actually. and he’s… starting to like it?
contents: 18+ MINORS DNI swearing, slight age gap (unspecified), suggestive themes, illusions to smut, park (occasionally) being a big meanie, corny jokes.
𑣲 masterlist .ᐟ.ᐟ taglist interest? part four moodboard .ᐟ.ᐟ
conrad fisher surprises you on your birthday - drabble #1
🩵💗 - so it was in fact my birthday last week - and i felt inspired to write this (this is definitely not inspired by my birthday at allllll)!! enjoy!!
cussing, pining, fluff, adorable-ness
word count: 785
The texts had rolled in, happy birthdays from all your friends and family - even an hour-long FaceTime with your mother who somehow forced you to relive her labor experience.
But he hadn't texted. You always cried on your birthday, but this year, it would be happening sooner rather than later.
Conrad never forgot. In the fifteen years you'd known him, not once had he missed your birthday.
Oh well, you told yourself. There was a first time for everything. He'd been in California for a while, anyway, and you still lived all the way in Boston. He was busy; you couldn't blame him.
Still, you wished he hadn't forgotten.
You were lying on your couch, stuffing your face with your breakfast (a delicious chocolate croissant) when a knock interrupted your highly critical meeting-your daily Psych episode (more like you binged the show until you got bored).
You threw yourself off the couch, pulling your blanket over your shoulders like a cape. "One second!"
The knock (or rather the knockee) was rather impatient, and you groaned, rolling your eyes as you whipped the door open. "I said one sec-"
"Hey, Trouble." Conrad Fisher was standing outside your apartment.
"Are you actually here, or am I dreaming?" You rubbed your eyes, sure this was all an illusion.
"I'm flattered that your dreams involve me." He had that horrible smirk on his face. "Happy Birthday."
Your heart clenched. "This is without a doubt, the best birthday present ever. Come in!" You stepped out of the way, ushering him inside. "You should have told me you were coming!"
"What? And ruin the surprise?" He scoffed, placing his suitcase next to the couch (the couch he'd slept on a million times). "What kind of birthday present would that be? 'Hey twerp, I know it's your birthday, but can you wake up at five am to pick me up from the airport?' I'm not a monster."
"Agree to disagree." You smiled, sitting flush against him. "You know I would have loved the surprise just as much if you'd asked me to pick you up."
"Mhm." You were absolutely glowing. His breath caught in his throat for a second, admiring the way the morning sun somehow formed a halo around your messy bed-head. Your cheeks were flushed from the adrenaline, and chocolate had found its way to the corners of your mouth. "How many chocolate croissants have you had?"
"Does it matter?" You glared, shoving his arm. "It's my birthday, Fisher. I could have twenty and you can't say a thing."
"I only ask because you have-" He gestured to the corners of your mouth. "Just a bit of chocolate there."
"Oh." You looked embarrassed, pulling away to try and wipe it away. "Is that better?"
"Not really." He laughed. "Can I?"
"Sure?" Holy shit, you were sure you were going to combust. Conrad had this horrible effect on you - since you were kids. He got close, and you turned to mush. "I mean, sure, yeah. No big deal."
"Breath for me." He smiled, reaching his thumb up and wiping away the chocolate with one swipe. "There you go." He'd finished his task, yet he stayed so close. He was just doing this on purpose now. "Trouble, I-"
You were sure your cheeks would melt off your face. "Thank you."
"F'course." His eyes fell to your lips, and you swore they lingered.
You leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth ever so lightly. Like it was routine. Standing up, you walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel (to ensure there was no more chocolate.) "So, any idea what we're doing today?"
"You just kissed me."
You scoffed. "I kissed the corner of your mouth, Fisher. Like I've done a million times before."
"But-" He stood up, arms crossed. He looked so serious, so stoic. "You-"
"I'm sorry." You squeaked. "Can we just drop it?"
He shook his head, stalking over. "No can do."
"No can do?" You laughed, heart nearly beating out of your chest. "What are you, 90?"
"Stop trying to deflect." His hands had now drifted to his hips, one jutted out like the sassy man he was. "You surprised me. It's your birthday, I'm supposed to surprise you."
"Alright." You smiled, grabbing another croissant out of the cabinet. "Then surprise me."
"Oh, I will." He smirked, and you swore a chill ran down your spine. A determined Conrad Fisher was never someone you wanted to encounter. It was horrifying just how determined he could get. "This is about to be a birthday you'll never forget."
You rolled your eyes, walking toward your bedroom so you could change and actually leave the house. "It already is, Fisher."
an; don't ask me what this is ok idk just go with it
warnings; scary man follows reader
There is nothing more inviting for a man than locking eyes with him for a split second. Unfortunately, you learned that the hard way. While you were looking around the room trying to spot your best friend Rafe, your eyes locked with a guy you've never seen before (or maybe you had, you weren't really paying attention to anyone else but Rafe).
As it turns out, in a man's brain that fleeting eye contact means you want him. So he slowly, but surely makes his way to you. You try not to look when you feel him close to you and you try to move through the crowd speedily.
You try to ignore the way his slimy hand makes an effort or two to grab onto yours and you try to ignore the way he's trying to grab your attention with even more slimy pet names.
You may be panicking.
You've dealt with people like him before enough times to know a simple no thank you or not interested, won't cut it.
You're definitely panicking.
You finally spot Rafe in the back of the crowded room, standing with a beer in his hand, chatting with some people. He's standing there looking perfect in his white button-down and his light-wash jeans and for a second you almost forget what you were running from in the first place.
A slimy hand on your shoulder reminds you.
"Slow down sweet thing," you hear a chuckle and his voice, along with its condescending tone sends you over the edge.
You make a beeline for Rafe.
It's safe to say he's startled when your hand grabs his shirt tightly, pulling him on you. "Hey I've been-"
"Kiss me." You say absent-mindedly, cutting him off.
"What?" He's shocked, his beer still in his right hand. He brings his left hand up, cupping yours that was still stiffly holding onto his neatly ironed linen shirt.
You peek over your shoulder to check if the guy is still hot on your steps and you find that he is. Because after all, Rafe might as well be your cousin. It's not in man's nature to take a hint.
"Kiss me." You say more desperately this time.
"Yn what's w-"
You don't allow him to continue his sentence and waste more time. Rafe is quick to follow when you yank him forward by his shirt, crashing your lips to his. If he was shocked he was hiding it well because he wastes no second, cupping your cheek with his free hand and pulling you closer.
You melt into the kiss and forget the reason you asked for it in the first place when he deepens it. His hand travels from your cheek to your neck and down to your waist, holding you closely, pressing you against him. Your hand drops from his shirt and finds the belt loop of his jeans, trying to pull him impossibly closer.
Rafe is the first to pull away and you find yourself chasing after him for a split second. His hand squeezes your waist and he keeps his head close to yours, looking down at you with lust-filled eyes.
You allow yourself to get lost in them for a second before peeking over your shoulder again. "He's gone."
"Yeah?" Rafe rasps and your knees almost buckle.
Holy shit you just kissed your best friend.
Without his consent.
"Wanna try explaining this, pretty girl?" His voice is soft and his hand is still holding onto your waist.
You try to take a step back, horrified by the thought that you probably ruined your friendship, but he doesn't let you.
"There was a guy following me," you mutter, looking up at him through your lashes.
Rafe's eyes darken as he looks behind your shoulder looking for anyone suspicious before returning his gaze to you.
"Maybe we should kiss again, just to make sure he got the memo."
Your eyes widen and you shake your head no. "I'm sorry, I just panicked." You explain and Rafe nods, dropping his hand from your waist.
There's a hint of disappointment in his eyes at your refusal to kiss him again but you don't catch it.
"Glad to be of service, pretty girl."
Avoiding your gaze he brings up his beer, taking a big sip.
"I'm sorry," You mutter reaching out for his hand, "It was stupid, I shouldn't have done it."
He looks down at you and for a second you worry you've ruined everything. His eyes search for something in yours before leaning down and kissing you. It's hard and passionate and deeper and it catches you off guard but you lean into it, you lean into him and let him take over as he backs you up against the nearest wall. His hand greedily finds its place on your waist once again and you think that this is what heaven must feel like.
He pulls away first again and chuckles when he sees your shocked features. A warm honey-like chuckle that causes you to smile. Maybe you hadn't ruined anything after all.
"Sorry, I panicked." He teases and you slap his chest.
He has you locked against the wall and he's staring at you like a starved man. You never thought you'd see Rafe like this, let alone be at the receiving end of that stare.
"How about," he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear, "you get the memo?"
"What?" you ask.
"Don't torture me any longer and fucking be mine."
