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talesofstyles · 4 years

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Stitches and Pucks

i swear i tried writing the whole fic from the 3rd and 2nd pov in the beginning but hockey harry is so dang loud he’s like hang on honey this is MY story so let me tell this one ☠️ so here we are. i had loads of fun getting inside his head though, i hope you like it!

massive thank you to my biggest cheerleader @smokeinherperfume 🥺💛 and ken i’m so sorry for making you read an LA Kings fic 😂 @emotionally-imbruised

warning: smut. there’s no actual bow chicka wow wow stuff though but there’s some thigh riding 👀

[17k]

Harry

I swear I’m gonna kill Zayn.

That fucker just slammed my face into the boards, and as I’m trying to push back while flexing my jaw because that’s the right thing to do when you’ve got your face smashed into the boards, he tries to push me back again. Well, not a fucking chance. I give a particularly hard push back to get him off my back and I’m able to free my stick from the boards and put the blade to ice.

Because we’re playing on home ice here at Staples Center and I know its speed and consistency like the back of my hand, it takes nothing but a short tap on the puck and it shoots back between both of our legs. We scrabble, throwing elbows and shoulders and even kicking at it with our skates to expel it out. It’s a hard-fought battle, probably not lasting more than a few seconds, but it’s starting to wind me up because fuck if I’m gonna let them score. We’re up 4-2 against The Sharks, and with only under six minutes left to play in the game, I’d like to keep it that way.

I really don’t see it coming. And as much as we hate each other’s guts, it probably wasn’t even intentional, but it still hurts like a mother when Zayn’s stick pops upward, the end catching me just above my left eyebrow. I don’t feel any pain at first, but red, blurred vision definitely lets me know I’ve got blood streaming down my face. The ref blows the whistle and the play stops as the penalty is called.

The pain hits me next, and I bend over at the waist, my clear eye watching as a stream of blood hits the ice and freezes. In just about a few seconds, I feel a towel covering the cut and I hear the new team doctor say, “alright… let’s get you off the ice.”

Her hand stays steady at my back as I lift up straight, taking the towel in my own hand to hold it in place. The doctor walks alongside me while I skate to the bench, which has an exit door on one end that will lead back to the locker room. A few of my teammates slap me on the shoulder as I walk past. Harvey, who plays the same position as me but on the second-line yells out, “get stitched up so you can come back out and kick his pansy ass.”

I can’t help but chuckle, because that’s exactly what I plan to do.

“Up on the table,” the doctor says briskly and I watch with my one good eye as she quickly starts preparing the necessary supplies. I hop up onto the table, and in just under four minutes, my very own Doctor McSteamy has my injury evaluated, lidocaine injected, and is now closing the cut with stitches.

Good grief, she’s a fucking vision. Has a slammin’ body too, which no doubt would feel fucking fantastic underneath me. She probably doesn’t even realise it, but she’s got her little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and I bet that’s something she does when she’s trying to concentrate on what she’s doing. I can feel my dick starting to twitch, so I close my eyes and get my mind out of the gutter before I get a hard-on. Fucking embarrassing.

When I’m sure I’ve got my downstairs head situation under control, I open my eyes again. She’s placing what I’m guessing the last suture on the cut and I make sure I put on my most dazzling smile as I look at her because I can be devastatingly charming when I want to be.

“Hey Doc,” I lean a bit closer to her when she’s done and murmur, “you should let me cook you dinner at my place tonight. You know, as a thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she replies without even looking towards me, preferring to busy herself with putting away the supplies that she used to tend to my cut. “I was just doing my job.”

“Alright then, no dinner at my place tonight,” I say with a sly smile. “But how about giving me your number so I can take you out sometime?”

She snorts in reply. “I’m not one of your puck bunnies.”

“No, you’re not,” I smirk at her. My tone is matter-of-fact when I add, “you’re one hot doctor.”

Not sure what I’m expecting, but this is definitely not it. Most women would blush and drop their knickers in an instant when I give them the tiniest bit of my attention, let alone a compliment, and let’s just say that’s why my bed is rarely empty. But it seems like my charms don’t work on this doctor since all I get is a fucking eye-roll.

“Are you always this forward?” She asks, still not looking at me.

“I’m a simple man, Doc,” I tell her with a shrug. “I see something I like, I go and get it.”

“Good for you,” she says dismissively, but I don’t miss the hint of amusement in her tone.

“Does that mean I get your number?”

She lets out a chuckle and finally turns to look at me. “That means I like your way of thinking.”

“So, no number?” I pout like a damn child, and apparently, the sight is hilarious to her. She throws her head back and laughs, and when she looks back to me, I get a wink.

“Sorry sunshine,” she smirks at me and I can’t help but ogle at her lips.

Perfect fucking lips.

“I don’t shit where I eat,” she adds.

Now, this is funny, so this time I’m the one tipping my head back laughing before I bring my gaze back to her. “You know our General Manager, Sloane Knightley?”

“Of course,” she replies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“She’s with Alex, right-winger,” I tell her with a grin. “Now, Brynne Adams, have you met her yet?”

“The Athletic Trainer?”

“That’s the one, and she’s dating Matt, left-winger.”

“What?” Her jaw drops and it’s the cutest fucking sight. I’ve always thought of myself as a tits-man, but apparently now I’m a jaws-man too.

“Oh I’m not done yet,” I smirk at her. “Sarah Jones, Head of Equipment Manager, do you know her?”

She nods. “I’ve met her twice.”

“She’s with Mitch, right defenseman. Now, you probably haven’t met this one yet, but our goalie, Adam, is the only one married between us first-line players. His wife, Rachel, is the head of our in-house legal team. So look around Doc, everyone’s bloody shitting and eating around here,” I finish with a grin.

“Yeah, that doesn’t change a thing,” she insists. “That won’t be me.”

I give her one last glance as I hop off the table before I walk towards the door, pretty sure my eyes glitter with mischief as I say, “yeah, we’ll see, sunshine.”

—

The Owner’s Box is a local sports bar in El Segundo. Located only a stone’s throw away from the team’s practice facility at Toyota Sports Center, it has become the go-to hangout for a lot of the players ever since the facility opened in 2000. I like this place because it carries 140 types of beer and I like beer, and honestly the food is great as well.

As much as we like to mix and mingle with the fans, which is super fucking cool in my opinion, the manager always ropes off an area on the second floor for the players so we can drink and chill out without fans swamping us. Usually when we arrive, we’ll hang around the first-floor bar area for a bit to give the fans an opportunity to take pictures and ask for autographs before we head upstairs.

It’s always crowded after the game because everyone knows they can find us here, but it always gets extra busy whenever we win. Tonight, there’s an actual line of people waiting to get inside.

I nod at a bouncer and enter, and it takes me a good half an hour to make it to the second floor where I find several of my teammates sitting at some of the tables or standing around talking.

Winding around tables, teammates, and hot women since several puck bunnies have been allowed to go up the second floor and are doing their best to get noticed by the players wearing outfits that fit them like a second skin, I make my way over to Alex and Matt who are already sitting at one of the tables nursing their beers. Those two are my best friends since we’re linemates, but normally I’d go stand over with the single guys and start my selection process for whatever woman who’d warm my bed for the night.

Not tonight though. Never thought this day would come but I’m not here for a hookup tonight.

Alex gives me a knowing grin as I sit down since I told him in the locker room after the game about my exchange with the hot doctor earlier when she tended to my cut and how she turned me down. Well, he and several other of my teammates since there were a few there in the locker room with us and they had ears to listen. I’m pretty sure I could even hear Mitch chuckle, which is honestly one of the world’s seven wonders since the guy barely talks let alone laughs.

“How’s that cut feeling?” Matt asks as I take a seat in front of him.

“Feels like a butterfly kissed me there,” I tell him, which gets a deep belly laugh from both him and Alex. We hockey players would never admit to being hurt in a fight. Ever.

The voices in the second floor immediately go silent and I see all eyes swing towards the stairs, and when I look there I see our General Manager walks in alongside Coach Higgins, followed by some staff of the team. Cheers start ringing as she walks towards our table, no doubt to sit next to her man, and then I hear a low chant, “Sloane! Sloane! Sloane! Sloane!”

Matt and I do the same since not only Sloane is more of a close friend rather than a boss who signs our paycheck once she steps outside of the GM office, but as the only female GM in the league, she managed to turn our team into champions. We won the Stanley Cup last season and no doubt she’s going to push us to victory again this season. Alex has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as his gaze focuses on his girl, looking so damn proud of her. Man, my best friend is fucking whipped.

Sloane blushes, slides a grin to Alex, and when the sound dissipates and the guys all start sitting back down, she says, “shut up you big jerks, do you want me to cry?”

We all bark in laughter.

I stand up to give her access to the booth so she can sit between Alex and I, and Alex immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders when she’s within his reach to pull her closer to him and proceeds to give her a searing kiss. I whip my head at Matt and we both make a fake gagging noise.

“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Matt says and Alex flips him off, still giving his woman a hell of a kiss and without even looking at us.

“I know, right? Not used to you being so fucking mushy mate,” I add. “Gives me the willies.”

Sloane laughs as she breaks the kiss. She leans over and playfully punches me in the arm. “You’ll have a good woman one day, Harry.”

“Yeah,” I drawl, then I give a faux shudder to make sure they understand I like being single. “No thanks.”

“You sure?” Matt cocks an eyebrow, but before I can reply, something behind me catches his attention. “Ooh, isn’t that the new doctor?”

I whip around so fast I fucking knock a bottle of ketchup off the table and it goes flying across the floor. Matt is laughing so damn hard he almost falls off from the booth, Alex is leaning over as he laughs, pressing one palm down on the sofa with the other to his ribs as if they hurt from laughing and Sloane is dabbing at her eyes as she laughs hysterically.

But yes, holy shit, that’s the doctor stepping off the stairs and onto the second floor with Brynne and Sarah. Now, I know Brynne will most definitely walk towards our table since Matt is here, but Sarah will most definitely walk towards the bar where Mitch is talking with some other guys.

Come here. Come here. Come here.

Fuck, she goes with Sarah to the bar.

“Oh no,” Alex says low and in warning. “I know that look.”

I don’t bother to give him my attention, keeping my eyes pinned on my girl. But I do ask him, “what look?”

“Your gaze just became predatory,” he says with a laugh.

“God, you have it bad for her,” Sloane teases but I ignore her as I stand up. Brynne gives me a wink when I walk past her and now I have a suspicion that my teammates blabbed to their women about what happened earlier tonight and now they’re trying to set me and the hot doctor up. Otherwise, why would she even be here? Fucking crazy, I know, but they’re all nuts.

“Go get her, tiger!” Matt quips as I walk towards the bar without looking back at their table.

The doctor has ditched the white lab coat that she wore earlier tonight at the arena, and I’m glad she has her back to me since I don’t make a secret of my ogling. My eyes are pinned to her ass in those skinny jeans and fucks sake I need to get a grip.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine,” I say with a smile as I stand next to her, trying to get her attention. That was lame, I know, and I feel like I want to punch myself for not being cool.

She laughs and fuck if that’s not the best sound in the world. It’s warm, rich, and husky, which warms my blood and speaks to my dick for some reason. Not sure if she’s laughing because she genuinely thinks I’m funny or is that just a pity laugh, but honestly I could listen to her laughing all day. Wouldn’t be opposed to hearing her moan one day, preferably with her underneath me, but if her laugh is all I can get at this moment then I’ll take it.

“Can I get you a drink?” I ask her and I mentally prepare myself for her to decline since she turned me down earlier in the arena, so it totally takes me by surprise when she only shrugs and says, “eh, why not.”

I’m sure my smile is ten times wider and she sees it. “What’s your poison?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“What if I want the hard stuff?” I raise a single brow. “Sure you want that?”

“What?” She smirks at me and my inner caveman is screaming for me at the sight to just throw her over my shoulder and take her home right this instant. But obviously I won’t do that, since I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping and I know I won’t look good in prison stripes. “You don’t think I can take it?”

“Oh honey, I know you can take it,” I laugh as I lift my finger to the bartender. “I’m only wondering how you’ll handle it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

—

It’s three hours and many beers later, well for her anyway since I limit myself at two because I’m driving, and we’re stumbling out of the bar, laughing our asses off.

She’s telling me about the funniest thing that happened at the hospital a few months ago. At the beginning they thought they had a domestic situation because the couple came separately; one via ambulance and one via police car. But when they finally got the whole story, it turned out to be an anniversary celebration gone wrong since the wife had a seizure when she was going down on her husband and bit down on him.

“Are you joking?!” I stare at her, mouth gaping in astonishment before I burst out laughing hysterically.

She shakes her head and laughs with me. “I wish.”

“Did you manage to save his manhood?” I ask with a half-grin and half grimace.

“My colleague did,” she replies. “I was busy with the wife, she had rather extensive head trauma.”

“From the seizure?”

“Well, in panic and pain, her husband didn’t think much and just grabbed the closest thing he could find to try to get her to loosen her bite, which sadly was an old rotary style telephone and hit her in the head with it. She was okay in the end, though.”

“That’s one hell of an anniversary to remember for sure,” I chuckle, and the giggle she emits pretty much confirms she’s bladdered. Well, not the kind of drunk where she wouldn’t remember tonight I’m sure, but I bet she��ll wake up with a massive headache.

“I sure hope you’re not driving,” I say as I steady her by the elbow when she wobbles as we step down the stairs.

“Sarah, Brynne and I took an Uber here from the arena earlier,” she mutters as she pulls out her phone from her handbag.

“Let me drive you home,” I quickly say before she gets the chance to order a ride. Not sure why I did that because I certainly have never offered women a ride home without the promise of getting in their knickers, and I can assure you that I won’t be getting anywhere near hers tonight, but maybe I just don’t want this night to end yet.

We’ve been glued at the hip from the moment I bought her first drink, and three hours purely just talking with the same woman? That’s a record in my book. While I’m not ashamed to admit that I also like looking at her, honestly, to me that’s just an added bonus. I think it’s safe to say that I have never met anyone like her before. Granted, with most women usually there wasn’t much talking, but from what I learnt in just the span of three hours is that this doctor of mine is a hell of a lot of fun.

I swear she’s just a pure fucking joy to be around. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. She’s bright and witty and she’s one of those people that knows no strangers. She can easily talk about anything from politics to sports even to crude jokes, and add on to that, she’s just so kind and inclusive that several times tonight I actually had to drag her away to one of the back tables so we could have a proper chat without the crowd around us.

“You don’t have to,” she gives me a hesitantly sweet smile.

“But I want to,” I gallantly insist as I turn and offer my arm to her. “Come on, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

“Well, alright then,” she smirks, her hand easily slides into the crook of my elbow. “I could save a few bucks.”

I roll my eyes and tease her, “didn’t take you to be such a skinflint.”

“Hey!” She playfully slaps my arm with her other hand as she laughs and I’m glad I amuse her.

No, seriously... I like her laugh.

There’s no doubt that she wants me, just as there’s no doubt that I totally want her. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on all night, and plenty of innuendo, but I won’t be surprised nor disappointed if she doesn’t invite me inside when we get to her home and nothing happens tonight.

We’ll get there, I’m sure.

Until then, I’m completely fine drinking beer, being her personal chauffeur, and getting to know her a little better.

—

We always finish team practice with battle drills. From the end zone face-off spot to either the left or right of the goalie, we pair up and battle for a goal. One on offense, the other on defense, we shoulder, bump, and juke our way across the short distance to the net. It’s a four to five second drill that will make us sweat, and then it’s over. We skate to the end of the line, where we wait to do it again.

“Saw you left with the new doctor last night,” says Matt, my battle partner today, with a shit-eating grin as he taps his stick against my leg. “How was she?”

I ignore his question not only because I don’t have the answer that he’s looking for because nothing really happened after I dropped her in front of her house, but also because this feels different. She is different. Had it been just another one night stand, I wouldn’t think twice before I blab all about the dirty details with my teammates. Great lays, lousy lays, I honestly have no filter and I tell them all.

But this is YN, and fuck if I know why and what this really means. All I know for sure is that I want more than to just tap that. The thing is, my teammates will probably not understand because they can’t really see past the fact that the new doctor is a gorgeous woman who I’ve been lusting after for about a week.

“Dude,” Matt says to get a reaction from me, smacking me a little bit harder with his stick. “How many times did you score her last night?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl.

“Whoa, dude,” he apologises and I swear his grin gets even wider. “Sorry. I guess you’re serious about her?”

“Serious about what?” Alex pipes up from in front of us. He’s paired with Adam, our goalie. There are four pairs of skaters in front of Matt and me, but there’s an equal number on the other side. We’re alternating.

“None of your fucking business,” I mutter, willing the line we’re in to go faster so I can escape from my nosy teammates and head to the doctor’s office.

Alex and Adam take off, Alex with the puck. They ram their shoulders into each other, legs braced and skates digging hard all the way to the net.

“Did you at least kiss her?” Matt nudges me with a sly grin, still trying. Man, he’s not a quitter.

“No,” I answer shortly, hoping that will satisfy him. “Just dropped her at her house and left after I made sure she got inside safely.”

“No. Fucking. Way,” he quips dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my teammate?”

Play continues, the next set of skaters in our line taking off and I ignore Matt but apparently he’s not done poking his nose in my business. “Oh, we’re not done yet buddy. Let’s go out tonight so we can squeeze some more gos out of you. Just you, Alex and I, how does that sound? Brynne said the girls are going to have a girls night out so I know he’ll be game.”

The girls means my teammates’ better halves, and honestly, hanging out with just my bros does sound good. Don’t get me wrong, those girls are cool—yes, my boss, Sloane, included—and they’re fun to hang out with. My teammates sure hit the jackpots with their women. But before Sloane and Brynne came along, the three of us were thick as thieves. There was a time where we went out almost every night and that’s why we’re more like brothers than teammates. Sometimes I miss that since we don’t get the chance to do it as often now that they act like old married couples, so yes, this does sound nice.

However, as tempting as it sounds, I want to hang out with my hot doctor more than my mates. That is if she’ll have me though.

“I can’t,” I say, clearing my throat. I lean in towards him and whisper, “I want to take YN out to dinner tonight.”

“Seriously,” he drawls dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

Again, I ignore his comment.

“Alright, I guess that’s a definite no to dinner with me and Alex then, huh?” Matt says in an exaggeratedly glum tone.

“The doctor is way prettier than you,” I reply blandly.

“Fine, go on your date,” he says with a slap on my back. “But I want to book some time with my best friend in the near future if it’s not too much trouble.”

“We’re going on a four day road trip in two weeks,” I mutter as I roll my eyes at him. “I’ll snuggle you then.”

Matt sidles up to me, lays his head on my shoulder, and bats his eyelashes. “Oooh, I can’t wait.”

I shove him off with a chuckle. That bastard.

—

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,” I say after two knocks on her office door. I can hear her chuckle as she tells me to come in.

God, I have turned into such a dork. But I like hearing her laugh and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear that sound again and again.

“Hey,” she smiles at me as she looks up from her computer. “What’s wrong?”

“Knee’s a little sore,” I tell her, not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for my lie just so I can have a few moments to talk to her. “Thought you could take a look at it.”

Her brows draw inward with concern and she motions towards a table. “Did something happen?”

“Nah,” I shake my head as I hop onto the table with my legs hanging over the edge and kick off my slides. “Just came off the ice and noticed it.”

“Alright, go ahead and lie back,” she says as she turns to the sink and washes her hands. “I’m going to do some range-of-motion tests.”

I stay silent as she maneuvers my leg, trying not to focus too much on the feel of her soft hands against me or the smell of her perfume. Fuck, she smells good. Fruity and flowery. Like berries and the heart of rose and bitter wormwood, and the scent is fucking delicious.

“Do you feel any pain when I do this?” She asks with one hand on my calf, the other on my thigh as she rotates my knee.

“Not really,” I shake my head. What happens here today will go in my chart and I don’t want to call any attention to my knee.

“How about this?” She asks, rotating the opposite way.

I shake my head again. “Nope.”

The hand on my calf slides down, grasping the bottom of my foot firmly. With the other hand still holding onto my thigh, she pushes hard into my foot. “This cause any pain?”

“Nope,” I say quickly, and then add, “I think it’s nothing more than my muscles getting back in shape. But I figure some ice can’t hurt, right?”

She slowly lowers my leg and gives me a sweet smile. “Well, I don’t think anything’s loose or torn, but if you’re worried about it, I can schedule an appointment with Dr Green.”

She is the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, and hell I’m not about to do that. Talk about an unnecessary red flag. “I think it’s just a lack of conditioning. Got lazy this summer.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I nod firmly. “I just need some ice and I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well, alright then,” she says as she turns back to wash her hands again at the sink. “I’ll let Brynne know and have her prepare you an ice bath.”

“Oh hell no,” I quickly shake my head and grimace. “That bloody thing is pure torture and my balls will go into hibernation until next summer. Just an ice pack will do, Doc.”

She laughs again. “Okay, just an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”

She turns and heads through the door to the treatment room and I take a moment to admire her gracefulness as she moves. She looks delectable today in her scrubs, which are the typical light blue you see in the hospitals, and they hang on her tiny frame loosely. I’d actually never seen her in them before since she usually just wears normal clothes underneath her white lab coat in the arena, but I swear this might possibly be the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen her in. I’m sure that has to do with the fact that I respect her so much as a doctor that it just heightens my attraction to her, and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll play dress-up games with me in the bedroom when the time comes. Because, well… I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from her.

“Here you go,” she says when she comes back. “Scoot back on the table and stretch your leg out. Keep this on for twenty minutes, then you can go.”

She places a towel over my knee, then lays the bag of ice on top.

“Thanks, Doc,” I tell her.

“Just doing my job,” she quips, and then walks back over to the box of supplies she had been unloading.

“Well, you’re very good at it,” I add and I can hear her chuckle. But I got nothing in response, so I add, “speaking about good things… I had a good time last night.”

“Did you?” She quips, still not looking at me but I can hear from her tone that she’s smiling.

“Well, yeah,” I say with a confident nod. “Didn’t you?”

“Eh, it was alright,” she smirks at me over her shoulder as she walks towards her desk.

“I want to do that again,” I tell her nonchalantly before I ask with a lopsided grin that I hope she finds charming, “will you let me take you to dinner tonight?”

“I can’t,” she shakes her head as she turns to look at me.

“Why? Got a hot date already?”

“Nah,” she chuckles. “Sarah invited me to a girls night at her place. I wasn’t gonna go because they seem like a tight-knit group and I don’t want to intrude, but Sloane came by here earlier to ask me again and she’s bribing me with tacos and margaritas, and well… I can’t say no to both.”

“Fair enough,” I laugh. “But have fun then. They’re all really nice, you’ll fit right in.”

“Thanks,” she gives me an easy smile, and I hope it’s subtle enough that she doesn’t realise this, but my breath actually hitch a little while I stare at her lips.

“How about tomorrow night then?”

“Well-” she begins, but she’s cut short when she hears her pager beeping. “Oh shit, I need to go back to the hospital. You think you’re okay there? Go to Brynne if you need something else.”

“Okay, don’t worry,” I tell her with an encouraging smile. “You go and save some lives, Doc.”

—

The arena is packed, the fans are at a fever pitch, and we’re in the midst of a fierce battle with the Anaheim Ducks. We’d taken them on in the first round of the playoffs last season, and while we swept them, they’re still a formidable opponent. Not to mention there’s a long-standing rivalry between the two teams, and add on to that, we’re in the regular season now so every win counts. The pressure is on.

As a center, I’m a shooter, not a fighter. That means I’m relied on to score, not to play defense or get tough with other players. My body is too valuable to mess it up in a slugfest, so I’m rarely enticed into a fight. Sometimes it takes everything in me to keep my cool, but I know I’ve got to trust Mitch and Marcel, our defensemen.

Just like right now. We’re late in the second period tonight, and one of the Ducks players, Jeff Azoff, is being a dick. He cross-checked me in the back, not strong enough to slam me into the boards, but it was enough to alert Mitch who’s skating right behind us.

“Do that again and I’m going to kick your ass,” I hear Mitch tell him. That guy doesn’t really talk, but he wouldn’t think twice before beating the hell out of someone if they mess with our team. He takes his job as a defenseman seriously. When he’s on the ice, nobody dares to touch his guys.

The fucker did it again, still not forceful enough for a penalty to be called, but Mitch was quick to drop his gloves and took on that Azoff guy. He kicked his ass good.

Man, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. Mitch is a badass. Unfortunately though, the fucker did land a lucky hit to his temple and his skin split just to the side of his eyebrow. Knowing Mitch, that will be nothing but a ten-minute trip to the treatment room where YN will stitch him up. I’m sure as hell he wouldn’t let her give him anaesthetic so he can get back on the ice as soon as possible. As I watch him skate towards the exit, I make a mental note in my head to buy him a beer tonight as a thank you.

The play resumed, and there are about forty seconds left on the clock before intermission. The Ducks are down 3-0, and they pull their goalie once they gain possession of the puck since they have nothing to lose. Luckily our stamina is stellar, so our legs are still fresh as we defend.

They pass the puck back and forth, looking for the long shot or a quick dump inside for a goal. My back is to Adam, our goalie, as I keep myself facing the action, letting my stick play loose.

The crowd’s screams escalate in tune to the clock ticking closer to zero. With a sharp flick of the wrist, the puck makes it past Alex, our right-winger, to the inside. Players crash the net, Marcel poke checks, and the biscuit shoots out towards me.

It’s a full-on breakaway as I shoot down the ice, one on one against the goalie.

Tap, tap, tap… back and forth… puck to blade of stick.

I close in on the goalie and juke left.

He goes left and I juke right.

He keeps going left, so I keep going right and flip the puck up and over his shoulder into the back of the net. The red light burns bright behind the net and the fans go wild. That was my third goal tonight, and it’s the perfect timing for intermission since there’s no way we can play with all the hats being thrown onto the ice.

It takes merely a second before I’ve got my teammates surrounding me. Alex, Matt, Marcel, Adam and Niall, one of the defensemen from the second line who’s filling in for Mitch. Pats of their gloved hands on my helmet, stick blades gently against my calves.

We skate to the gate that would lead us to our locker room. We all trudge there, taking up spots around the open space as we wait for Coach Higgins to address us. It’s what he does at the end of every period. If we play poorly, we get our asses handed to us. If we play stellar though, like tonight, he’d be effusive in his praise.

But as much as I’d love to hear nice things from the Coach, there’s nobody I want to see more than my very own Doctor McSteamy. And yes, just to put it out here since I’ve been calling the hot doctor by that nickname, I’ve got to admit that I did watch too much Grey’s Anatomy in the summer because there’s not much I could do during the off-season. My sister didn’t let me watch past season 10 though, because she said it’s not worth it.

“Need to get my knee taped,” I tell Alex on my right as I stand up. We have 17 minutes before we start the third period and I figure that should be enough time to see the Doctor and secure a date in the near future. “I’ll be right back.”

“Bullshit,” he grins and there’s a clear amusement in his eyes. “You want to see your girlfriend.”

“Shut up,” I growl.

“What’s this?” Matt asks curiously as he takes a seat next to Alex.

“Our buddy here wants to see his girlfriend,” Alex’s grin doesn’t lessen as he tilts his head at me. “Needs to get his knee taped, he said.”

“Conjugal visit in-between periods? Classy,” Matt says with a salacious grin and I glare at him. When his laughter dies down, he points out, “okay, jokes aside, that’s a shit excuse. If you really need your knee taped, you’d see Brynne and not YN.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing else here,” I grumble like a stroppy child. “Can’t hit my own head just to get a cut, can I?”

“That would be outright dumb,” Alex laughs. “But come on, I’ll go to Brynne and make up something so at least you can tell the doctor that she’s busy.”

The treatment room is just down the hall from the locker, and when I get there, I notice the door is half open. I see her sitting on the little desk with her computer, so I knock lightly on the door to get her attention.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Her head swings up when she hears my voice and it takes everything in me not to just march there and kiss the fuck out of her when she offers me the sweetest smile. Crazy how much effect this woman has on me. “I need my knee taped but Brynne’s busy.”

“Sure, I was just reading the players’ medical chart,” she replies. “You were on fire out there by the way.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I smile at her.

“Skates, socks, shin pads and pants off,” she says as she walks towards the supply cabinet.

“Jock strap too?” I can’t help but smirk.

“No,” she rolls her eyes playfully as she grabs a towel and hands it to me. “Put this over your lap.”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, yeah, unless you want me to get a peek of your dick.”

“You know I wouldn’t be averse to that, Doc,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows.

She gives me a school teacher, disapproving-type look but the slight twitch of amusement in the corner of her mouth is hard to miss. “You’re so bad.”

“You have no idea,” I grin, but she doesn’t see it because she has her back to me. She’s pulling another cabinet open to get adhesive, gauze and tape before knocking it close with her shoulder.

This is ridiculous but I’m actually a bit self-conscious of getting practically half naked in front of the hot doctor. I have absolutely no clue why and this had certainly never happened before.

I shed my gear from the waist down and she keeps her back to me until I get on the therapy table and the towel is covering my lap. She lays out her supplies on the table beside us, her slender fingers using a pair of scissors to open a new package of tape.

I take a moment to admire her as she cuts off uniform lengths of tape and attaches them to the table. She’s not in the scrubs I saw her in last week, but if you think I’d be disappointed, even just slightly, then you’d be wrong because you could put her in a burlap sack and to me she would still absolutely look edible.

Tonight, she’s rocking a mustard-yellow trouser suit with wide legs and a cross-over pleated blouse underneath her white lab coat. The crisscross swath of silk that wraps around her upper body does lovely things to her tits, and I realise I’m quite the pig to be thinking about her this way.

“Left knee?” She asks. “I’ve just finished reading your medical chart when you came in. Arthroscopic medical meniscus repair two years ago.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Sometimes it feels a little loose. A good taping is all it needs.”

“Any soreness?” She asks as she steps up in between my legs that dangle over the table.

I shake my head and say, “nope.”

“Clicking or popping?”

“Nope.”

“Locking?” She inquires as she lifts her face up to mine.

She’s fucking close enough I can smell her minty breath. I could easily kiss her, but I’d probably get kneed in the nuts, so I just shake my head and say, “nah, just feels a little loose.”

“Okay,” she says, laying a soft pat on my thigh. It’s nothing but a move of reassurance, but fuck if I don’t feel it all the way through my gut.

She grabs her supplies and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she gets to work taping my knee. It takes merely a few minutes, and then she finishes the wrap, holding the end while taping it with the precut pieces. “There you go,” she says, stepping back.

“I’ve got something to confess. My knee was absolutely fine,” I blurt out, the words popping out of my mouth so suddenly, I’ve got no clue where they came from. Clearly my subconscious decided to overtake my sensibility and make itself known. “I came here because I wanted to see you. Thought I’d try to get your phone number and a date one last time before I give up.”

She gives a tinkling laugh. “You’re not a quitter, are you?”

“Well, no,” I reply with a grin. “So, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven. How does that sound?”

“Listen,” she smiles at me sweetly as she begins, but I don’t like the sound of it. Nothing good ever comes after ‘listen’. “You’re a nice guy-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I cut her as I hold my hands up. “Don’t go with the ‘nice guy’ brush off. Clearly I’m not if you won’t give me the time of day.”

“I just don’t think we’re looking for the same thing-”

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“Look, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem more like the bang ‘em and leave ‘em type to me.”

“Is that really how people see me?” I ask her curiously, without an ounce of defense in my voice because there’s no point in denying that. I really don’t care what people think, but I’d like to hear her opinion.

“You’re a player, Harry,” she says with a chuckle. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young and in your prime. You should totally be sowing all your wild oats. It’s just… I’m at the point in my life where I realise that meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling. I don’t want that anymore.”

I feel a metaphorical light bulb goes off in my head.

I know she doesn’t mean to, but fuck, she hits me right where it hurts. She’s called that exactly right. This is something that I’ve actually realised and known for a while, especially after seeing my best mates being the happiest they’ve ever been after they found their women. There’s not an ounce of regret in what I did though, because just like my girl right here said, there’s nothing wrong with that. There was a time when burning my way through all the hot women in LA and having them take turns warming my bed had its appeal, but not anymore.

Maybe this is why I’ve been feeling unfulfilled lately. I know I’ve got a great career, more money than I could ever need in a lifetime and endless selection of gorgeous women to warm my bed every night. What more could a man possibly ask for, right? But at the end of the day, it’s just me in a monstrosity of a house that I call home.

Maybe deep down I know I don’t want it to be just me anymore.

“I think I’ve actually known that for a while, but the way you point that out, I think it’s drilled home now,” I admit as I face her.

“What do you mean?”

“That casual, meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling,” I say with a smile. “I mean, yes what I did was fun, but then I look at my best mates and see how happy they are with their women. Of course I rib them good because hey, that’s my job as their best mate…”

She laughs.

“...but that doesn’t mean I never look at them and think, fuck, I want that one day. Maybe the idea didn’t really appeal to me because I had never found the right person, who knows. But I swear I don’t want just sex with you. I want more. Do I know what I’m doing? Fuck, no. I haven’t even been on a proper date in years. But I do know that I genuinely want to get to know you better, Doc, that is if you give me the chance.”

She gives me a dopey smile when she asks, “you mean all that?”

“I really do,” I nod solemnly. “Now let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”

“Tell you what,” she begins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you go back on the ice and win the game, we can go to The Owner’s Box when you’re done to celebrate just like the other night. And if you behave, I’ll give you my number this time.”

“Want me to behave, huh?” I say teasingly with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Don’t fancy a bad boy?”

“Oh I actually have it bad for bad boys,” she smirks. “My favourite character in Harry Potter is Draco Malfoy.”

“Okay, I’ve got a counter offer,” I say as my laughter dies down. “If I get MVP tonight, which I’m pretty sure I will since you said it yourself that I’m on fire tonight, you give me your number straight away after the game and let me take you out to dinner. I’m thinking seven tomorrow night.”

Another roll of those gorgeous eyes that twinkle slightly at me. “Pushy, aren’t ya?”

“Only when I want something,” I tell her with a grin. “And I want you.”

“So do you want me or do you want to go out with me?” She asks slyly, tilting her head to the side.

“You gonna kick my balls if I say both?”

“I admire honesty,” she murmurs softly in that sexy, husky voice that seems to flow through my body and straight down to my dick.

“Hey boyfriend and girlfriend,” I hear Matt chirps from the doorway and my spine stiffens involuntarily. His shit-eating grin doesn’t lessen a bit even when I give him a glare. “Hate to steal your man, Doc, but the game is starting again soon and we kinda need our favourite asshole right here.”

“You two break a leg,” she chuckles. And then as an afterthought, she adds, “just so we’re clear, I don’t mean that literally.”

—

Manhattan Beach’s high-end strip of boutiques and restaurants are hugged by the beach on one side and some of California’s most expensive real estate on the other. It’s southern end blends seamlessly into smaller Hermosa Beach, which is similarly quiet but has a tight concentration of bars and restaurants near the town’s pier that attract bar-hoppers at night and sun-bleached dropouts during the day.

The Kings players’ houses are scattered evenly across the two towns. Some of us are clustered within a block or two of several teammates; others sprinkled little more than a mile or two away. All but one of the first-line players live in Manhattan Beach though, and we can easily walk or ride a beach cruiser to everyone else’s house.

YN lives in Silver Lake, and the drive to pick her up takes me about forty minutes. I know she must make a pretty good bank being an ER doctor, not to mention that she works at two places, but her house doesn’t scream that. It’s rather tiny, I’m betting not more than seven or eight hundred square feet max, and there’s not much of a porch but on the outer edge is a hanging basket of flowers.

There’s no doorbell so I rap my knuckles on the door. Flecks of peeling paint get knocked loose and fall to the concrete porch.

“Coming,” I hear her yell from inside and I can imagine her plopping in an earring, grabbing her handbag, and wondering if she turned the curling iron off. She sounds frazzled and rushed and I can’t wait to fucking see what she looks like when she opens the door.

And there she is.

She has a black dress on, and it’s not little but it’s spectacular. The neckline of the dress skims just below her collarbone so no skin or cleavage is exposed, but it doesn’t matter because the narrow waist and flared hips, all cocooned in black is sexy as shit. The hem of her dress comes down below her knees and the dress is so well fitted that I know there has to be a slit up the back so she can walk.

“Good grief you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I mutter as I let my eyes roam down and then back up again to find her smirking at me.

She’s got an off-white clutch bag tucked under an arm, and her head is leaning to the side so she can put her last earring in, exactly as I’d imagined.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, still smirking at me. I’d worn my best suit tonight in black with black shirt underneath and no tie. Glad she likes what she sees.

I step back so she can lock her door, and she turns to me as she tosses her keys in her clutch. I hold my arm out to her and ask, “ready?”

She nods and smiles as she curls her fingers in just below my biceps, then I escort her to my car.

I’m taking her to this new restaurant that both Alex and Matt recommended when I asked them last night for the finest restaurant in LA. It had been so long since the last time I took a woman out for a proper date, so I knew I needed to ask my mates and that they would have the answer. They both swore by this place called Apron, but then told me it took at least two weeks to get a reservation. Luckily though Alex had booked a table for him and Sloane tonight, and they gladly gave me the reservation. Sure I had to take a good deal of ribbing from my teammates and their women last night at the bar where we celebrated our win, but I knew it would be worth it.

The drive to the restaurant is short, only about ten minutes. And we lapse into the same easy conversation right away, just like we did the other night at The Owner’s Box. Today was my day off and I did absolutely nothing so I’ve got nothing interesting to tell, but she had plenty of exciting cases at the emergency room today, which included a toddler swallowing a penny.

“Holy shit, how did you get the coin out?” I ask her.

She laughs. “You don’t take it out. You’ve got to let the kid pass it naturally.”

“He can do that?”

“Well,” she begins. “I did take an X-ray first to make sure that it was small and could pass safely.”

“Okay, okay, okay… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to remove from a patient?” I ask her with childish curiosity.

“Honestly, I think I’ve removed everything on the surface of the earth,” she snickers. “Coke bottle, tapeworms, coins, candles, but the strangest has got to be a stuffed animal. It was a Curious George doll, and… let’s just say that he’s no longer curious.”

“You’re joking right?” I bark in laughter as I park my car. We’ve arrived and I swear that was the shortest ten minutes of my life. “I mean… who does that?!”

“I wish,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “You’d be surprised if you know how many weirdos out there.”

I’m still chuckling as I exit my car, then I walk over to the passenger side to get her. I hold my arm out to her, and her hand so very easily slides into the crook of my elbow.

“You don’t think I’m one of them, right?”

She gives me a playful shrug. “Well, I don’t know, you might be a weirdo... I mean, I don’t know you well enough yet.”

I give her a smart-ass smirk. “Let’s remedy that then.”

—

“How’s that one?” I ask her as I finish a mouthful of this chocolate thingy. It was a chocolate ball concoction the waiter had poured more hot chocolate over, which then melted the ball to reveal a raspberry chocolate torte inside. She had a bite, but it was too rich for her. I agree though, it was a lot of damn chocolate.

“You’ve got to try this,” she says, spearing the lemon meringue pie with her fork, top it with a little bit of pine nut ice cream and holding it over the table to me.

It’s a completely intimate move and one that I didn’t expect from her tonight. I mean, she was reluctant to go out with me in the beginning and needed some convincing, so I expected her to be reserved and cautious. But hell I’m not complaining.

I lean in and let her feed me the dessert. The flavours explode on my tongue and I think that’s the best we’ve had tonight.

I don’t normally indulge in dessert, but they all sound good so I told her we should order all the ones we like the sound of. Which was most of them except that cucumber mousse and pickle ice cream because those sound like disasters on a plate.

“Good, huh?” She asks with a smile.

“Really good,” I tell her. “I think I like that one best.”

“Finish it then,” she says as she pushes the plate towards me. “I can’t possibly take another bite. I’m stuffed to the brim.”

“Alright,” I say with a chuckle as I pull the plate closer to me. “So, when are you free again so I can take you out to another date?”

She chuckles. “We’re not even finished with this one.”

I roll my eyes at her, then I ask, “are you having a good time?”

Her smile turns dopey and I know she’s just as smitten with me as I am with her. “This is definitely the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“If we were finished, considering how things have gone, would you go out with me again?”

“I would.”

“Good,” I say with an emphatic nod. “So, weekend or weekdays? When will it work best for you?”

—

I slow the speed on the treadmill, taking me down from a brisk run to a slow walk so I can cool down. Normally I like to run outside in the morning, but I woke up late this morning and we had a team skate scheduled at ten, so I figured I’d just do my workout afterwards at the arena.

Only a few of us actually have a gym membership outside. Most of us prefer to work out at the arena because not only is the equipment better, but we also have an abundance of teammates to work out with and that’s always nice.

I walk for about five minutes to cool down, then I turn the machine off and wipe my face with a towel. I grab my phone and water bottle and turn for the barbells, as today I’m working my chest and shoulders. Mitch and Marcel are already lifting, both defensemen who tend to focus on brute strength versus speed and stamina, so I’m not surprised they didn’t go for the treadmill. I also see Matt there, and I bet Alex will join us too after he’s done cooling down.

“Have a nice run, princess?” Marcel asks dryly as I set my stuff down near the bench press.

“I’m not the one who has to prove my manhood by how much weight I can lift,” I return with a sly grin.

“Yeah, well, your manhood is in a dry spell,” he says as he loads some weight onto the bar. Pre the hot doctor, both Marcel and I were the only single guys in the first line. He’s just as much as a player—on and off the ice—as I was, but now I gladly pass the title to him.

“Not true,” Matt quips with a grin. “He went on a date last night.”

“No shit,” Marcel turns to me in astonishment. “With who?”

Before I can even answer Alex throws a quick glance at us, flashes a shit-eating grin, and yells from the treadmill, “the new doctor.”

“But I saw you two got pretty cosy at The Owner’s Box last week,” Marcel says, as if he’s still confused as hell.

“Well yeah, she was cool, so I took her out again,” I say firmly.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” He blinks at me. Eyes all round and not comprehending. “You never look at the same woman twice.”

“So?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Ooh, I get it,” he says with a smirk. “Pussy that good, huh?”

“Hey,” I cut in with a warning. “I’m not there yet.”

They all suddenly stop whatever they’re doing and turn to me with raised eyebrows. Yes, Mitch included, which I’m actually quite surprised.

“Whoa, hang on,” Marcel says. “You haven’t tapped that yet?”

“You’re serious?” Matt looks at me in disbelief. “Not even last night?”

“Dude, I gave you that reservation last night to give you the opportunity,” Alex says as he walks towards us. “I was genuinely worried about your balls.”

They’re still looking at me confused, but Adam howls with laughter. “Don’t listen to these pigs. Rachel and I took it real slow at the beginning of our relationship too, and I got to tell you, the anticipation was half the fun.”

It’s true. I’m in no rush with YN because I know we’ll get there sooner or later. I can be patient when I want to be, and right now I honestly want to. I want to prove to her that when I said I wanted to get to know her, I meant her as a person and not just carnally.

I could tell that I confused her last night when I dropped her off at her doorstep after our date. I gave her nothing but a soft, brief kiss to her cheek, then told her to get inside, lock up and get some rest. Sure, she was confused for a few seconds, but the smile that I got after she realised that I really did want to take things slow was so much more than worth it.

“So you think this thing with the hot doctor is going to go the distance?” Matt asks me.

“I do,” I say confidently. I’m not dumb enough not to realise that she hasn’t fully let her guard down yet for whatever reason. Maybe she’d been badly hurt in the past, maybe it’s my past that causes her to be a little bit sceptical, I mean... let’s be honest, I was a player through and through. But that doesn’t scare me though, because I know I’m in it for the long haul. So yes, I can say it with confidence that this thing between us is going to go the distance.

“Well, if you fuck it up, I’ve got the first crack at her,” Marcel says with a salacious grin. I don’t think twice before I grab my wet towel and throw it at him. It hits him right in the face, and my teammates howl with laughter.

All this talk about her makes me want to see her again. I’ve secured a second date last night for next Wednesday since that’s when both of us will be free, but that’s still four days away and I can’t wait that long. So I pull up my phone and type out a quick text to her.

Hey, what are you doing today?

I grab my water bottle and take a slug. Before I put my water bottle down, I already got a response. I need to go and get a new bed frame. Really can’t stand this old thing anymore.

I can’t help but chuckle. She did tell me last night about her bedroom set which was apparently really old, but she couldn’t get rid of it since it’d been in the family for a few generations and her grandmother gave it to her when she bought her house.

Want some company? I quickly type.

She’s just as fast in her response. You want to go with me buy a bed frame?

Well, yeah. I’ve finished the team skate this morning and will be done with my workout soon. I’ve got nothing to do after and I want to see you. I reply.

Alright then. She texts me back within a minute. But I’m on-call though so I can be called to the hospital any time.

Doesn’t matter, I still want to see you. I text her back. When can I pick you up?

Give me half an hour.

Perfect.

—

I’ve bought three houses in my twenty-seven years of life; the one I currently live in, one in Toronto when I was still with the Leafs before I got traded to the Kings and one for my mum back in London. And yet not once have I ever gone on a furniture shopping.

Until today.

That was something I never in a million years would have dreamed to do, simply because I hated shopping with a burning passion. Hell, I didn’t even buy things for my own house because I paid the previous owner to leave everything behind. That kind of thing was honestly just something that I would have never taken the time for.

And yet, in shuffling through my memories, I really can’t remember having such a great time before. All I know is that I don’t want the day to end, and I also know that it has everything to do with the company.

I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and technically we’ve only been on one date even though we saw each other quite often at the arena. But there was nothing odd when my hand would find its way to her thigh, or when she’d drape her arm across my shoulders so her fingers could play with my hair as we cruised along from one furniture shop to another. I love that we’re at ease with each other as if we’d known each other forever, not to mention that she’s also one of the easiest women I’ve had the pleasure of talking to in a long time.

Sadly though, it had to end when she was called to the hospital. Luckily, it was just in time after she chose a particular bed frame that she liked. It’s a classic canopy bed in live-edge oakwood with a brushed brass iron base, and I felt like a pig because even as we were still at the shop, I was already thinking about which ties from my collection would work best.

They offered same-day delivery since they had it in the storage, and since she was needed at the hospital, I offered to wait for the delivery at her home for her. She agreed, so she gave me her key after I dropped her at the hospital.

And here I am. Sitting on her bedroom floor trying to build this bloody nightmare because apparently they didn’t offer assembly service. I’ve been at it for an hour and a half now. Okay, no, more like an hour and ten minutes because I spent about twenty minutes fixing the sink in her en suite. I noticed the faucet was leaking, and I needed to step away from that bloody bed for a little anyway.

Now I don’t have another excuse, so I’m back on hammering one of the bazillion nails into the wood. I’m so focused on the task that I didn’t realise YN is home until I hear her chuckling as she walks into her bedroom and say, “you know, that is the kind of pounding that’s supposed to happen after you’re in the bed.”

I can’t help it. I fucking throw my head back and bust out laughing. “Sod off.”

“You don’t have to do it, that looks complicated. I’ll just hire someone to put it together tomorrow,” she says with a sweet smile. “Just get up and go sit on the couch. I just need to go to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll join you.”

“Yeah, that won’t do, Doc,” I say firmly. “I’ll still finish this bloody thing even if it kills me.”

“Stubborn,” she quips affectionately with a roll of her eyes as she heads towards her en suite.

“Smart-ass,” I reply with my eyes pinned to one of the million pieces of her bed frame, also with affection.

“Harry?” She calls out from her en suite.

“Yeah?” I answer, when I look up, she’s leaning against the doorframe and looking at me confused.

“Am I crazy or did you actually fix my sink?” She asks with an arched eyebrow. “Because I swear the faucet still leaks a little this morning.”

“Yeah, I did,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I needed to walk away from this for a minute and when I went to your en suite, I noticed it leaked. Not a big deal though, took me only about fifteen minutes.”

“Well, good to know that if you ever quit your day job, you have a career in plumbing,” she snickers. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do that, and you certainly don’t have to finish that.”

“It’s what any boyfriend would do, Doc,” I say with a nonchalant shrug.

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

“Yes I am,” I roll my eyes. “I took you on a date last night and I’m taking you out again on Wednesday. I’m not seeing anyone else, so that means we’re dating. And technically that makes me your boyfriend.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she sputters but I can see the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Besides… I might be seeing someone else.”

“You’re not,” I say with relative certainty.

“How did you change just like that is beyond me,” she murmurs, the appreciation in her voice evident.

I let out a chuckle. “Just get your butt in there and go chill on the couch after. I’m pretty sure I’ll be done in about half an hour, then we can order something for dinner.”

“Yes sir,” she says with a mock salute, which makes me snort.

—

An hour later, her bed is finally built and as I walk into her kitchen I see her putting the plates on the table. It smells phenomenal here, and I’m surprised when I look at the table because how the hell did she manage to cook all that in an hour?

I take advantage of her back facing me by putting my hands at her hips and pressing my chest onto her back. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck and it takes everything in me not to kiss her there. The combination of her perfume and the faint smell of antiseptic is sexy to me. So I can’t help but hum and mumble, “smells delicious.”

“The chicken?” She murmurs.

“Among other things,” I reply softly.

She chuckles. “Come on, let’s dig in while it’s still hot.”

I take a seat in front of her before I select a drumstick from a plate of fried, spicy goodness and put it on my plate. There’s something about the fact that YN made it that makes me believe it will be the best chicken I’ve ever had. Today will no doubt go down as one of the best days ever, which I seem to think a lot when I’m around this woman.

As she dishes me some salad, I honestly can’t wait anymore and take a bite of the chicken. Her eyes snap to me when I let out a groan.

“Good?” She asks with a grin.

I can’t help but let out another groan of approval as I take another bite. “Damn, Colonel, you never told me you make a mean fried chicken.”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” she shrugs smugly.

“Or a fine ass,” I tease. “If you want to quit your day job you can totally open up a fast food chain. Your fried chicken puts KFC to shame.”

She laughs as she cuts some cornbread and puts it on my plate. “Now try this, I make a mean cornbread too.”

“Mmm,” I say in pleasure as I take the first bite.

“Okay, you need to stop with the sexy moaning,” she grumbles with a tiny smirk before she turns back to her dinner. “You’re so bad. I think you’re trying to take advantage of me.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I laugh. “And besides, you’re just as bad.”

“True,” she replies with a sly smile. “I can be bad too.”

“But just how bad are we talking here?” I ask with a smirk.

“Not bad enough to sleep with you tonight,” she says before she takes a sip of water. After she swallows, she adds, “but totally bad enough I might get frisky with you.”

I give her a mock groan and look up to the ceiling. “A tease. I’ve saddled myself with a tease tonight.”

She laughs.

We talk about what she did at the hospital today as we eat, and her job in general, and it never fails to thrill me the things that she can do. She’s a jack of all trades when it comes to medicine, needing to be able to diagnose and stabilise, often in pressure-filled situations where time is of the essence. I can’t even imagine having the responsibility of someone’s life in my hands like that, and yet she seems to be able to leave it all behind. She talks openly and often with humour about her work, but she also admits that sometimes she can’t help but bear the burden of death too when her skills just don’t make a difference.

I admire her so fucking much. Never admired a woman before, but in fairness… I never looked too deeply at them.

I’m seeing YN through unfiltered eyes and I like everything that I’m seeing.

—

Something is squirming in my arms and it wakes me up.

I tighten my arm around it in response to the movement and pull it back slightly against my body.

Wait? What?

Sleep.

Couch.

We fell asleep on her couch while watching a film.

It all comes back in a rush. Our totally awesome conversation over equally awesome food she cooked that I couldn’t stop raving about all night. I had three pieces of chicken by the way. We talked more about our backgrounds, me growing up in Cheshire and her childhood in South Carolina. We had a few beers, and when she asked me if I wanted to stay a bit and watch a film or something, of course I said hell yes.

The fact that she asked made me smile, because it meant that she was having a good time too with me. So we ended up on her couch watching Jaws, and I liked that she didn’t even hesitate when I lay down on her couch, pressed my back against the cushions and patted the area in front of my hips. I’m pretty sure she can see the devilish gleam in my eyes when I said, “come on… let’s cuddle.”

“Wow… Harry Styles, big bad hockey player, shameless flirt, total panty dropper. Didn’t peg you as a cuddler.”

“I’m a big teddy bear, honey,” I said with a grin and open arms.

She fell asleep first, and I know I should’ve left but the slightest movement from me would definitely wake her up. I know she must be tired so I decided against it and closed my eyes instead.

“Morning,” she says in a husky, raspy, ‘I just woke up’ voice and it’s sexy as fuck.

“Morning,” I reply, my own voice is still rough with sleep. I wonder if she thinks that’s sexy too. “You slept good?”

“Mhmm,” she hums softly, but then immediately groans as she glances at the clock above the telly. “Ugh, I have to be in the hospital in about an hour.”

She then tries to extricate herself from my arms, but I pull her back in close and nuzzle her neck as I point out, “you work a lot.”

“Ha, tell me about it,” she says with a dry laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job. It’s just I wish I could sleep for three days straight sometimes.”

“Do you even have a day off in the week?” I ask curiously.

“I do,” she answers with a nod. “It was actually my day off yesterday, but I was filling in for a colleague.”

I loosen my hold and let her sit up in front of me. “Go get in the shower, I’ll make us both a quick breakfast.”

“You can cook?”

“Well, if I give you food poisoning you’re heading to the hospital anyway,” I chuckle.

In the kitchen, I grab some eggs and a pack of English muffins from her fridge. A quick breakfast sandwich sounds good, and portable just in case she needs to eat on her way to the hospital. I crack open a couple of eggs, scramble them with a fork and add salt and pepper while my skillet heats up. I put a bit of olive oil in the pan before I toss the English muffins into her toaster to crisp, then set coffee to brew in her Keurig. I’m moving around her kitchen as if I was born here.

By the time I pour the eggs into the pan, she walks out of her bedroom in her scrubs. I smile and nod at the Keurig as I say, “coffee’s ready.”

“And damn, you’re hot in those scrubs,” I add with a grin, giving the eggs a last scramble before pulling them off the heat.

“You’re joking right?” She says, wrinkling her nose as she grabs the milk from the fridge and turns my way, letting the door swing shut on its own.

“I’m serious, Doc,” I say with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from you. Preferably in your new canopy bed though so I can tie you up after for a payback.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s eight in the morning,” she laughs and I snort in return.

She then pours some milk in her coffee, pulls the cup to her mouth, and blows across the steaming surface. Her eyes meet mine over the edge of the cup as she takes a tentative sip. “Are we still on for Wednesday?”

“Of course,” I say with a confident smile.

“What have you got planned?”

“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” I tease her. “Just to warn you though, I may or may not gonna put my hands all over you.”

I don’t tell her that by putting my hands all over her, I mean on the ice to keep her from falling since I plan to take her ice-skating on the team’s practice rink. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, and besides, I’d be lying if I said I never thought of other ways too. The way she’s looking at me right now assures me that she does too, and well, that’s good.

We can compare notes on that later when we get there.

—

Blinking at me with a sleepy smile on her face, YN stands up from my couch. I walk up to her and she pushes me down into her seat, and then crawls onto my lap.

This is nice.

Our date on Wednesday was amazing, and as we walked inside, she turned to me and asked, “so this was your big plan to put your hands on me?”

I just laughed in response, and I did have to put my hands on her quite a lot in the end since she didn’t know how to ice-skate. Fuck if I’m complaining though.

Now we’re snuggled up on the couch at my house with full bellies. Last weekend she cooked me amazing food, so today, I wanted to impress her by cooking a roast dinner and introduced her to Yorkshire pudding. Sure, I was on the phone with my mum the entire time so she could give me directions, but I only almost burnt down my kitchen once so I’d call that a success.

I lean forward, which pushes her slightly to the edge of the couch, then I reach an arm over her and grab a packet of KitKat from the coffee table. I’m glad when I learnt that it is actually her favourite chocolate too, because KitKat is elite and it’s good to know we’re on the same page.

“Want another?” I ask her.

“No,” she groans. “I’m so full.”

I chuckle and awkwardly unwrap the chocolate. Awkward because I have to open it in front of her face since I have my arms around her, and once I got it opened, I hold the naked little chocolate bars in front of her mouth and tease, “want a bite?”

She shakes her head.

I wave it under her nose and I guess the smell of the chocolate changes her mind because then she says, “okay, a little bite.”

I break the bars and feed one of it to her, letting her take a bite and then chucks the rest in my mouth. We chew silently as we watch Marlin looking for Nemo, and I sigh in contentment when she tucks her face into my neck and drapes one arm across my chest.

It takes no more than ten minutes before I notice her breathing has slowed down and she’s fallen asleep. I rest my cheek on the top of her head and continue watching these fishies. I’m a little drowsy from all the food, but I resist the urge to fall under. For now, I just want to savour my existence at this moment because as Dory says to Marlin, “I look at you and I’m home”, I truly realise that’s how she makes me feel.

I’m sitting in my house, but for once, it doesn’t feel empty anymore. I just had a wonderful meal where we talked and joked and flirted, and now I have a gorgeous woman who I’m crazy about curled up on my lap.

There is absolutely no other place I’d rather be right now.

—

“Dude, you’re so fucking whipped,” Alex says as he punches me on the shoulder. I jerk slightly and reluctantly take my gaze off YN to look his way.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I take a swig of my beer and promptly look back at my girl. She’s standing just ten feet away, sipping on her own beer and talking animatedly with Sloane and Brynne. We’re at The Owner’s Box tonight having our first triple date, and I’m having a brilliant time. The only thing better would be if YN would quit chatting with the girls and get her sweet ass over here to sit next to me.

“Fucking hopeless,” Matt mutters and Alex snickers.

I blink and turn to look at them. “What? Why am I hopeless?”

“Because you can’t fucking take your eyes off of your girl for more than two seconds,” Alex jeers at me. Then he leans in towards me and murmurs with a mocking sneer, “pussy.”

“Bollocks that,” I say haughtily. “I can take my eyes off of her longer than that.”

“Good,” Matt says, handing me an empty beer bottle. “Go get us some more beer.”

“Assholes,” I say with good nature and head towards the bar. Stopping beside my girl, I kiss her on the temple. “You girls want anything else to drink?”

Sloane and Brynne shake their heads, smiling coyly at me as they watch my uncharacteristic display of affection. I’m immensely pleased when YN smiles at me and rests her hand on my chest. “I’m good, but thank you.”

“Be right back,” I tell the girls, and then I set out to prove Alex and Matt wrong.

I swivel my gaze back to Matt and Alex, and I give a sheepish grin when Matt mouths the word pussy at me. I flip him off and head towards the bar, intent on not looking back at my girl for at least the next few minutes it takes me to get the beers.

“Excuse me,” I hear and feel a tap on my shoulder. “Harry, can we get an autograph and a picture?”

As I turn around with a warm smile in my place, the word sure is out of my mouth before I even see who’s asking. I’m met by a vision of holy hotness as two women stand there with tight-as-hell t-shirts cut obscenely low and with plenty of silicone boobs pouring out.

Just a mere month ago, I would have whispered a prayer of thanks to the big man upstairs for sending these two my way, knowing well that I’d be banging the hell out of one of them before the night was finished. Instead, my stomach tightens and I glance past them to see YN still deep in conversation with Sloane and Brynne.

I bring my gaze back to the women… a brunette and a blonde, both looking at me with promise in their eyes.

“Do you mind taking your picture with us?” The blonde asks with a bat of her eyelashes.

I give her a quick smile and say, “sure, no problem.”

She steps up to me as she hands her phone to the brunette. I lift my arm to sling it companionably around her shoulders, but she uses that opportunity to press intimately into my side, bringing both arms around my waist and mashing her breasts against my ribs.

“Thanks so much,” the blonde says in a seductive voice. “Can we buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” I decline with a smile. “I’ve got some friends waiting for me.”

“An autograph, then?” She asks.

“Sure.”

The blonde digs in her handbag and pulls out a sharpie. She then hands it to me and says, “can you make mine out to Kourtney with a K?”

“You got it,” I say, eager to get this over with because it feels awkward to me to have this woman coming onto me with my girl standing just a few feet away.

“Just sign here,” she says and my jaw drops as she pulls the edge of her t-shirt down her chest, practically exposing her entire right breast to me.

“Uh, you got a piece of paper instead?” I ask her. “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that.”

“You bet your ass she won’t,” I hear my girl quips from behind me and I’m trying my best not to laugh. I like that she immediately snuggles into my side so those women now would have no doubt that I’m totally hers, “wanna go play some pool, baby? Loser buys the drinks.”

“You’re on,” I tell her, Kourtney with a K and her friend are long forgotten. “But just to warn you, I’m really good.”

“Honey, I was practically born on one of these tables with a beer in my hand,” she says smugly, “you’re going down.”

—

“Do you want to come in?” YN asks as she pulls out her keys from her handbag. We’ve just got back from The Owner’s Box and as usual, I walk her to the door.

My tone is low, soft, and barely audible when I say, “Doc, if I come inside tonight, I don’t think I can promise you to keep my hands to myself.”

“I don’t want you to promise me anything,” she replies firmly. “Whatever happens, happens. Now, let’s not dawdle on my porch and get inside. Want some more beers?”

“Whoa, don’t hand me ammunition,” I joke and she laughs. “I’ll take some water though.”

“There’s some water bottles in the fridge,” she says, pointing to the tiny kitchen that sits at the rear of the house, past the living room. “I’ll be right back.”

I get two bottles of water out of the fridge and head back into her living room. I take a seat on the couch and pull out my phone, scrolling mindlessly as I wait for my girl.

When she reappears, she’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a white t-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail and her makeup has been washed off. Her in a t-shirt and tiny shorts is a hundred times sexier than her in literally anything else—yes, including her scrubs—and there’s no stopping my downstairs head from waking up.

“Come here.”

Her eyebrows rise, but I don’t miss the clear interest in her eyes. “Come there?”

I tap my thigh, “right here.”

Her cheeks flush and a little puff of breath blows out of her. With absolutely no hesitation, she crawls onto my lap. Our gazes are locked tight and her eyes darken with intensity. When her chest comes level with mine, and her knees are pressed into the cushion just inches from my crotch, she asks me softly, “you going to finally kiss me?”

“I’m thinking about it,” I tease her as my hands come around her lower back, pressing her onto me.

Fuck, she feels good against me. Just her soft curves and warmth and I’m already starting to get hard before I even lay my mouth on hers.

She looks at me with sizzling eyes as we stare at each other, knowing that once we take this step, our relationship is going to another level.

Leaving one hand on her lower back, I slide the other up and over the shoulder, letting my palm glide up her neck so my fingers can tangle in her hair. She shivers when my thumb strokes her jaw before I cup my hand around the back of her head.

Her hands reach out and circle behind my neck. Then she whispers as she licks her lower lip, “so this is it?”

“This is it,” I tell her, and because I absolutely cannot wait one second longer, I put pressure on the back of her head to lock our mouths together. The first touch of her lips against mine causes pleasure to punch straight through my groin, and the world just absolutely melts away.

There’s nothing else but her.

Lips so fucking soft, tongue tentative and sweet. Her hair silky to the touch and her skin warm as my hand snakes up just under the edge of her t-shirt.

She tilts her head, opens her mouth more and kisses me deeper. I groan and pull her tighter to me. My hand fists tighter into her hair, hampered by the hair tie somewhat but not giving a fuck. Her hips start to rotate slightly, rubbing herself along the top of my thigh. My dick gets achingly hard as she starts to make tiny sounds of need in the back of her throat.

My other hand slips down her back and palms her backside, then I give a tentative squeeze. I think she likes that, because her hips shift forward and she starts to grind her crotch on my leg. I press against her ass, encouraging her to keep moving against me. She does it again and shudders in my arms, so I know it’s hitting her in the right spot.

Pulling on her hair, I break the kiss just enough so I can growl at her, “get yourself off, darling. Right here. On my leg.”

Her eyes fly open and they’re full of fire and sexual need as they stare back at me. Her lips curve up in a wicked smile of acquiescence and I pull her back down to my mouth for a hard kiss.

She rotates her hips in circles, then alternates flexing back and forth. I clench my thigh muscle, wanting to give her as hard a surface as possible to stimulate herself. I slip my hand down the back of her shorts, finding bare skin. I squeeze and push her down on me, helping her to move faster on my leg.

She pants and moans softly as she works herself up. I have to force myself not to push my hand down further between her legs. I’m bound and determined not to go there yet, and besides, this is hot as fuck and completely satisfying to me.

She moves faster and faster, making tiny cries of yearning into my mouth as we kiss. Then she punches her pelvis down hard onto my thigh, going still for a moment before her entire body starts quaking in silent orgasm. I hear nothing but a soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips and slither over my tongue.

Her body goes limp in my arms. She lifts her head, our lips parting, and looks down at me with glazed eyes. I press my lips to her briefly just once more, before I pull my hand out of the back of her shorts and roll her body off me. As I stand up and hover over her for a minute, I see her cheeks flushed rosy and her nipples pebbled hard, even through her t-shirt.

Placing a hand on the couch cushion, I lower myself to her and brush my lips across her forehead. “Get a good night’s sleep.”

“Wait- you’re leaving?” She asks, confusion coating her expression.

“Yes,” is all I say.

“But-”

“I’ll take a cold shower when I get home, no worries,” I assure her with a smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I had a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells me, still looking like a wet noodle on the couch so I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.

“I did too,” I smile at her over my shoulder as I reach for her door.

It’s in this moment that I’m pretty sure I’m a goner for her.

—

I see the hottest, sexiest, most adorable doctor walking across the darkened parking lot towards me. Well, towards her car. Her head is tucked down and she looks tired. When she finally looks up and locks her eyes on me, the exhaustion melts away and I’m rewarded with a happy, welcoming smile from her.

“You really have to stop stalking me in parking lots,” she quips as she walks closer.

Then closer still until the tips of her shoes touch the tips of mine and she’s offering her mouth to me for a kiss. Obviously, I take it, because who wouldn’t? Her lips are perfect. She tastes like mint gum and smells faintly of antiseptic, and that right there is my favourite combo.

When she pulls back, she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and asks, “seriously, what are you doing here?”

“I wanna take you somewhere,” I tell her as I grab her hand and take her towards my car that’s parked the next row over.

“Where?”

“Just get in the car, Doc.”

“You’re being vague,” she says with an arched eyebrow. “Is this where you kidnap me, take my kidney and sell it on eBay?”

“This is where I’ll find a way to occupy that beautiful mouth of yours if you keep asking questions and ruin the surprise,” I tell her and she gives a tinkling laugh.

“Promises, promises,” she singsongs and I just roll my eyes.

It only takes about fifteen minutes from Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she works to the closest beach where I plan to take her for an impromptu picnic date night. We only had to stop by to get some pizza because I already have a cooler with a six-pack of beers loaded in the back of my car. It’s a little too late for sunset, but the purplish black of twilight is lush.

“The beach, huh,” she deadpans. “You brought me out here to seduce me?”

“You naughty girl,” I clutch a hand to my chest and make an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “That’s indecent exposure that is.”

She laughs as she opens the door of the car and hops out. I do the same, then I open the back door to pull out the pizza, blanket and the cooler with beers inside before letting her help by taking the blanket.

Somehow we have the beach to ourselves tonight, and she points out a nice spot for us to sit. I agree, so I let her spread out the blanket. After both of us have our butts firmly planted, side by side, facing the ocean, I take two beers out and hand one to her.

“Ooh, we’re going fancy tonight,” she says when she sees that I brought microbrews instead of cheap beer.

I chuckle as I open the pizza box and grab a slice of the cheesy goodness that will probably clog my artery, then we talk about our day as we eat. I tell her the funny things that happened at practice today, including a joke that Marcel told us in the locker room which most would probably find insulting, but I know my girl is used to locker room talk and would find it hilarious, and she tells me what she did in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy today that her lunch break lasted less than ten minutes.

“You never cease to amaze me, Doc,” I tell her honestly. “It’s so cool what you do for a living. Impressive as hell.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”

It’s completely dark by the time we finish our pizza, but the view is still lush since the moon is bright, causing the water to look like it’s covered in floating, crushed diamonds.

We’re silent as we sip our beers, and I love that we can sit in comfortable silence as well as talk for hours. It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other yet I just feel such a strong connection with her. I love that we’re so in tune with each other that sometimes we say the same things and steal lines from one another. We have a similar sense of humour and we can even exchange an inside joke with just a glance.

I loosen my hold of her when she pulls away from my side embrace. Her head swivels to me, and I can see the moon glittering in her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

“What?” I look at her in confusion.

“I misjudged you, Harry,” she says with a tender smile. “When you asked me out, I outright told you that you’re a player without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“And your assumption was right,” I tell her honestly with a light chuckle. “There is nothing to apologise for. It was common knowledge, I was a manwhore.”

She snorts. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

“Me too,” I squeeze her hand. “You didn’t misjudge me, Doc, you knew exactly the type of guy I used to be.”

She has a dreamy smile on her face when she says, “kiss me.”

“No, you come here and kiss me,” I say, and I’m pretty sure she can see my eyes sparkling with mischief.

She rolls her eyes and mutters “fine” under her breath as she plants her knees on the sides of my legs, but I don’t miss the light in her eyes which tells me that she likes the idea.

Closing her eyes, she dips her mouth to mine and now I’m wondering if the two years of jail time and a fine for indecent exposure is worth it if I were to take her right here right now.

—

We’re in New York for two away games in a row, tonight against the Rangers which we won 3-1, and tomorrow night against the Devils. I’m chuffed not only because we won and I played great, but I also had a great day today before the game with my girl. We didn’t do much since she wanted me to save my energy for the game tonight, but we did walk around our hotel and ended up napping on the couch in the room that I share with Marcel.

We all ride on the team bus that takes us from the hotel to the arena and back to the hotel after we finish the game. I wanted her to sit next to me, but for both trips, to the arena and back, she gave me a slight shake of her head and sat with the girls along with the rest of the staff in the front.

When I hop off the bus though, I see her waiting for me with a grin on her face. I kiss the fuck out of her, not caring about my teammates who whistle and yell, “get a room.”

“Which floor are you on again?” I ask her as we enter the lift. I want to walk her to her room just to spend a few minutes more with her.

Yeah, laugh all you want. I know I’m fucking whipped.

“Tenth,” she says, pulling her room key out of her handbag and hands it to me so I can scan it then tap the button on number ten.

“Wanna catch an early breakfast with me tomorrow?” I ask her as we approach her room that she shares with the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, Callie.

“Sure. What time?”

“We’re leaving for light skate practice at 9:30, so we should have plenty of time if we meet down there at 8:30.”

“Sounds good,” she nods as we reach her door.

There’s a handwritten note stuck in between the door and the jamb. She puts her key in the card slot, opens the door slightly, and snag the piece of paper. She opens it up and I look over her shoulder at the note as we read it silently together.

YN,

Marcel and Joslynn are hooking up and they’re in his room which means Harry has been kicked out. I’m going to sleep with Macy instead, so you and Harry can have this room. Unless you want Harry to go sleep with Macy?

No? Didn’t think so.

Have fun you two.

Callie

“This is Alex, Matt and Marcel’s doing,” I tell her with absolute certainty as she twists her neck to look at me. “I’ll just get an extra room for tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “You can sleep here. We’ve spent the night together before.”

“Yeah, but that was different. We fell asleep on the couch, it wasn’t intentional,” I point out. “I don’t trust myself sleeping in the same bed with you, Doc. I’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“Well, good,” she says, smiling mischievously. “Cause I’m done wait-”

That’s as far as she gets before I push her through the door, backing her into the room. My mouth hits her only moments before her legs hit the edge of the bed and we both go tumbling onto it.

This is when we realise there’s a huge box of condoms with 144 packs inside it in the middle of the bed. On the top, there’s another note and I recognise Matt’s handwriting on it.

You’re welcome by the way

“I freaking love your teammates,” she says with a laugh.

I guess I owe those fuckers some beers.

#hockey!harry #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles ff #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #boyfriend!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles

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kk095 · 3 years

Text

Alyssa in Trauma

*hey everyone! I wanted to try writing a story with original, recurring characters with more of a 1st person perspective. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!*

It was a slow weeknight in our small community ER. It was just me, the head veteran nurse Nancy, nurse Ashley, nurse heather, and Dr Lindsay. The 5 of us were doing our part holding down the ER that night. We had a few minor cases- a kid who sprained his ankle skateboarding, back pain in exam room 2, and one of our frequent fliers in exam room 3 for who knows what this time.

A little after 8pm, the nurses station gets a call from dispatch. I can see Nancy nodding and responding to the voice on the other end of the phone, but I couldn’t initially make out what was being said. After the brief call, Nancy looked at me and gave me a rundown of the situation: “listen up everyone. We have a 26 year old female involved in a single car crash, possible chest and abdominal trauma. She’s hypotensive and tachycardic, and EMS intubated her on scene. ETA is 5 minutes.”

All of us quickly sprung into action at that point. I ordered the nurses to prep trauma room 1 and gather whatever supplies we may need for this particular case. While the nurses were getting things ready, me and Dr Lindsay put on a yellow trauma gown and a fresh pair of gloves. “make sure we have some unmatched o-neg, FFP, and platelets. And make sure surgery and radiology are on standby for us.” Dr Lindsay told the team, to which nurse Nancy nodded.

The following few minutes came and went quickly. We could hear the sound of the ambulance’s sirens grow louder and louder as it approached the hospital. The trauma room was quiet- the calm before the storm I suppose. We knew the patient was in rough shape, but we didn’t know what exactly to expect. Regardless, we were prepared for whatever was going to be thrown at us.

The ambulance pulled just outside the ERs main entrance and the medics wheeled the patient into the hospital and into our trauma room. To our surprise, one of the medics was performing CPR on the patient upon arrival. “26 year old female, restrained driver in single car MVC. Blunt chest trauma, lost vitals en route. Down 4 minutes, shocked ×2, meds ×1. PEA on the monitors.” The lead medic told us while the other delivered deep, violent chest compressions. “ok, let’s transfer her on my count. 1… 2… THREE!” I called out.

The patient was now on the table and under the overhead light. I looked down at the battered young woman lying on our table. Her name was Alyssa. She’s a 26 year old blonde with blue eyes, with a pretty face and a chubby build. She was just driving home from work when she swerved to avoid hitting a kid that ran out into the street, oblivious to Alyssa’s car, but slammed her car into a light post in the process.

Once Alyssa was on the table, the medics left the room and we began running our trauma code. Nurse heather resumed chest compressions, nurse nancy was ambu bagging, and nurse ashley got the next rounds of epi and atropine ready. Dr Lindsay and I decided to order some tests: STAT trauma labs, a chest x ray, and a FAST scan. After ashley injected the next round of meds, she drew the trauma labs while Dr Lindsay got the ultrasound machine ready. While that was going on, I set up the portable x ray for the chest x ray. The chest x ray showed sternum and rib fractures associated with CPR, but nothing else noticeable. Dr Lindsay then performed an echo. “oh boy, look at all that blood in the pericardium. Massive cardiac tamponade.” She said, shaking her head looking at the ultrasound monitor. “let’s do a pericardiocentesis.” She continued. “I disagree. She’s already in cardiac arrest and that’s a huge tamponade. I think we need to do a thoracotomy.” I responded to Dr Lindsay. “I don’t know Dr Kenny, I think we should do a pericardiocentesis and see if her condition improves. If not, then we do a thoracotomy.” Lindsay replied. “I don’t think we have time to wait. Thoracotomy is the way to go here.” I said, standing my ground. There was a pause for a moment. “I agree with Dr Kenny.” Nurse Nancy said, breaking the silence in the room. Nurse Nancy has been an ER nurse for over 20 years and she’s seen it all, so everyone trusted her judgement when she spoke up.

Dr Lindsay and I looked at each other for a moment and nodded in agreement. “Ok, let’s get a thoracotomy tray set up please.” Dr Lindsay ordered. Once the order was made, Ashley and I began setting up the proper equipment. Meanwhile, nurse Heather kept performing deep, strong chest compressions on Alyssa. The patient’s chest caved in and her belly bounced outwards. Her eyes were half open, staring blankly above while one of her arms dangled off the side of the table, bouncing in sync with each individual compression.

I picked up a 10 blade scalpel off of the thoracotomy tray while Ashley splashed Alyssa’s chest with betadine. While heather kept delivering chest compressions, I made a quick, decisive incision in the 5th intercostal space starting at the sternum. I extended the incision laterally across the young woman’s bare chest. Ashley retracted Alyssa’s large, d cup left breast to give me room to continue the incision. Once I extended the incision past the breast, I continued across to the mid axillary line, just a few inches shy of her left armpit. I had to make a 2nd incision I the same general area to separate the underlying fat and tissue. Once the tissue was adequately separated, I placed a rib spreader into the incision area and began twisting the knobs, forcing the young woman’s ribs apart. A loud popping and cracking sound filled the already hectic trauma room from Alyssa’s ribs being forced apart.

After her chest was adequately opened, heather stepped away, stopping CPR. I took my scalpel and made a vertical incision into the pericardium, performing a pericardiotomy in order to release the tamponade and deliver the heart. After cutting the fibrous lining of Alyssa’s heart, there was a collection of thick, gooey, coagulated blood that came out. Ashley suctioned away the coagulated blood, only for my line of sight to be filled with a large amount of fresh blood. “what a mess.. let me take a look.” Dr Lindsay said, forcing herself into my position, reaching into Alyssa’s exposed chest cavity. While Lindsay was sorting things out, I placed a vascular clamp on the descending aorta in order to redirect bloodflow to the heart, lungs, and brain- a common practice during ER thoracotomies to limit damage elsewhere and to potentially buy the patient time during the resuscitation.

Ashley suctioned out the blood that obstructed the line of sight, revealing Alyssa’s motionless heart. “starting cardiac massage.” Dr Lindsay called out. She wrapped her hands around Alyssa’s motionless heart, placing her thumbs on the left ventricle. She then began squeezing the heart, pushing her thumbs in an upwards motion in the process. “1… 2… 3… come on hun…” Dr Lindsay said, looking down at Alyssa, as if she was trying to convince her patient not to die. Lindsay continued internal massage while nurse Nancy stood at the head of the bed ambu bagging. “let’s get another dose of meds in. Hopefully we can get a shockable rhythm that way.” I called out to the team. Nurse heather went over and got the meds and injected them into the patient’s IV line. Meanwhile, Lindsay continued internal massage. “something doesn’t feel right. Her heart feels almost empty.” She said to me. “let me take a look.” I replied, inching my way closer. Lindsay continued internal compressions while I probed around in the young woman’s chest, trying to see if I can figure out what her injuries were. While I was examining the area, her heart began to fibrillate in Dr Lindsay’s hands. “ok! She’s in v-fib. Let’s get the internal paddles and charge to 20.” She called out.

Nurse Ashley charged the internal paddles to 20 joules, and handed them to me. Everyone backed away from the patient while I placed the paddles around Alyssa’s weakly fidgeting heart. “ok. Everyone… CLEAR!” I called out, delivering the shock. A dull, wet thump was heard from the shock. Alyssa’s torso flopped and her breasts jiggled in response to the jolt of electricity. “no change. Let’s shock again at 30.” I called out. Once the paddles were recharged, I lowered them back into the 26 year old’s chest, and delivered the 2nd shock. Alyssa’s toes curled at the other end of the table in response to the shock, showing off thick, silky wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 10 feet. “No change Dr Kenny" heather tells me, shaking her head while looking at the monitor. “ok. Let’s recharge the paddles to 30 and shock again.” I ordered. Nurse ashley recharged the zoll internal paddles to 30j and handed me the blood stained paddles for the next shock. Everyone backed away before the shock, knowing what was coming. This particular shock caused Alyssa’s torso to jolt sharply on the table, but v-fib persisted. “Damn it… still v-fib. Let’s push another dose of meds and shock again. This time we should shock at 40.” I told the team. Once again, we recharged the paddles, lowered them into Alyssa’s chest, and shocked her again. The same dull, wet thump was heard. Alyssa’s lifeless body twitched sharply on the table in response to the more intense shock, but her heart stopped in its tracks after that shock. “shit. Asystole on the monitor. Resuming internal massage" dr Lindsay called out, acting decisively.

Dr Lindsay reached hands back into the young lady’s chest and began pumping her heart manually. “1… 2… 3… come on Alyssa…” Dr Lindsay said to herself, thinking out loud. Alyssa’s heart felt flaccid and empty in dr Lindsay’s hands. There was a definite contrast between feeling Alyssa’s warm heart and her cold, clammy skin. Her complexion faded rapidly, and her beautiful blue eyes remained half open, with a blank expression on her face.

Dr Lindsay messaged Alyssa’s heart for several minutes to no avail. “let’s push another round of meds. And dr Kenny, how about you take over internal compressions for me? Maybe you’ve got the magic touch.” She said with an undertone of sarcasm. I nodded and took over compressions for my coworker. I reached my hands into Alyssa’s chest. I looked down and saw her heart motionless in my hands- something that’s odd to see in a previously healthy 26 year old. I started pumping her heart with my own 2 hands, desperately trying to bring the young woman back. But I knew the odds grew less and less likely as time went on. “hey, we’re out of FFP. Should I get another unit?” nurse heather asked us. “no honey, let’s hold onto it for someone we can actually save. You know how fast that blood bank can empty out on a busy day.” Nurse nancy replied, implying that Alyssa was pretty much a goner. “She’s young though, we should keep trying at least a little longer.” I said to the team, trying to improve morale.

I massaged the patient’s heart for several minutes to no avail. We maxed her out on meds in that timeframe, and nurse nancy noted that Alyssa had fixed and dilated pupils. At that point, I held compressions and the monitors went flat. “alright… does anyone object to calling this code?” I asked everyone in the trauma room. I was met with silence and a couple people shaking their head “no.” I then nodded and said “ok. Time of death, 20:46. Thank you all for your efforts.”

Nurse nancy detached the ambu bag and shut Alyssa’s eyes for the final time. Nurse heather switched off the flatlined monitors and began removing the EKG electrodes from the patient’s bare chest. I removed the thoracotomy equipment from the patient’s body, while dr Lindsay started removing her gloves and trauma gown, walking out of the ER feeling defeated. Nurse ashley removed all the IVs and started filling out the toe tag. On the blank tag, she wrote: “Collins, Alyssa. DOB 8/26/95, DOD 10/3/21, time of death 20:26, cause of death: Blunt SVC dissection. After filling out the tag, she placed it on the big toe of Alyssa’s left foot. The tag tangled in front of her soft, wrinkly soles while a sheet was placed over her battered body. At that point, I began to remove my equipment and head out of the room. Nurse nancy and nurse Ashley then wheeled the stretcher out of the trauma room to transport alyssa to the hospital morgue while heather stayed back and cleaned the trauma room and prep it for the next patient. It’s never easy losing a patient, but it’s par for the course when you work in trauma. We have to compose ourselves and move on to the next patient.

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mendesblurb · 3 years

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can you do one where the reader is a doctor and is dating shawn and connor gets hurt so shawn and his team go to the hospital the reader works at, but because of fans, they are in a private room where doctors stay, so like his girlfriend is talking to her doctor friends and like making jokes about medical stuff while shawn and his team watches ( she doesn’t know he is there) then when she gets home he tells her how proud he is. sorry this is so long

Proud of you

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning: fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

Note: I’m not a medical student, so the terms may not be 100% accurate and I did attempt to do a little research... Anyway I hope you enjoy the story... :)

“Doctor Y/L/N, I’ve got a 22 year old in room 1 that need stitches.” “Doctor.., are you okay?” The intern asked again.

“Oh yeah I’m fine....” You said rubbing your eyes while quickly getting up from the couch at the lounge area and began putting your hair in a ponytail and hung the stethoscope around your neck again.

Honestly You were about to take a quick nap from your busy and nonstop eighteenth hours shift but busy nights like tonight made it impossible for you to even close your eyes for a second.

“Good Evening, I’m Doctor Y/L/N, I’m the attending physician in the ER tonight.” You said while still looking at the patient chart. When you finally looked up you were surprised,”..Connor? Shawn?”

“Hey Y/N I got a little clumsy..” Connor confessed shyly. “I think what he meant was very clumsy because the cut is pretty deep.” Shawn said

As you came closer to Connor who was sitting down down at the bed, you noticed that his hand was already wrapped poorly in a bandage.

“So what happened?” You asked while waiting for the nurse to prepare the anaesthetics, sterile water, bandages and a tiny little needle.

“It was stupid. I got attacked by a soup can lid, if you can believe it.” Connor explains while you began cleaning the cut with sterile water to remove any harmful germs and dirt.

“Okay Brashier, I’m going to inject you with the anaesthetic.” You said while slowly injecting it to him,”owww Y/N!!!!” He whined meanwhile you and Shawn starts laughing at him.

“Connor stop being a baby.” Shawn said jokingly and Connor just pouts.

Soon you began stitching up the wound when suddenly, “Y/N!! I need your help to diagnose a patient—— oh? Hi Shawn.” Your best friend Olivia said while Walking up the room and Shawn waved at her.

“Hey liv, I thought your shift ended like an hour ago.” You said while not lifting your gaze away from the hand. “Well... I was about to go home but then the patient came in and I couldn’t just leave him, so will you help me diagnose him?”

“Sure thing.” You nodded your head and give her a quick smile.

“So the patient is male aged 45 and he’s Asian American.”

“Symptoms?” You asked. “He presented with a fever, vomiting and diarrhoea and was treated for the flu. He then returned several days later with an enlarged lymph nodes, abdominal pain and a rash on his shoulder.”

“What did his former doctors think it was?”

“Hodgkin lymphoma.” Olivia said while trying to hold back her laughter, “Ha! Amateurs.” You laughed. “I know right.” She replied.

In that moment Connor just made eye contact with Shawn as they both didn’t understand anything that you were talking about or why was it funny.

“Anyway... they also didn’t do any biopsy when he showed up like six months ago with a flu-like symptoms and a rash on his arm.”

“Does he have any history of dermatitis?” Or was he like given any medication prior to being admitted?” You questioned.

“No and no.” Olivia answers, “hmm it could be cutaneous kikuchi diseases.” You said.

“Omg Y/N!! the symptoms do add up, Shawn I swear your girlfriend here is just a pure genius.” Olivia said while giving you a side hug.

“Yup she definitely is.” Shawn replied proudly

“Thank you for helping Y/N, I owe you one.” Olivia said while making her way outside the room to bring the news to the patient and informing the nurse about the medications that need to be prescribed.

A few minutes of silence pass by until you finally break the silence, “okay the stitches are done.” You said and began wrapping a gauze around the stitched hand and also securing it with tape.

————————————LATER———————————————————

“Why are you making that face?” You asked Shawn who was just staring at you while both of you were just waiting for Connor who is at the pharmacy.

“I’m just so proud of you.” He said

"Awww baby.” you smile softly and kiss him lightly on the lips.

“My..girlfriend is a..badass Doctor.” he mumbles against your lips.

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist: @holland-styles @itsalwaysbeen305 @nervousmendes @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @monikamendes @bvttercupbby @rainyseb @mendesficsxbombay @shawn-youth @camilalewiss @smendes-forever @username2002

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alwaysgloriouschopshop · 1 year

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letterboxd · 3 years

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Best of SXSW 2021.

From properly good Covid comedies to an epic folk-horror doc and an Indigenous feminist Western, the Letterboxd Festiville team reveals their ten best of SXSW Online.

We dug out old lanyards to wear around the house, and imagined ourselves queuing up the block from The Ritz (RIP). We dialled into screenings and panels, and did our level best to channel that manic “South By” energy from our living rooms.

The SXSW festival atmosphere was muted, and that’s to be expected. But the films themselves? Gems, so many gems, whether shot in a fortnight on the smell of an oily stimulus check, or painstakingly rotoscoped over seven years.

When we asked SXSW Film director Janet Pierson what she and her team were looking for this year, she told us: “We’re always looking for films that do a lot with little, that are ingenious, and pure talent, and discovery, and being surprised. We’re just looking for really good stories with good emotional resonance.” If there was one common denominator we noticed across this year’s SXSW picks, it was a smart, tender injection of comedy into stories about trauma, grief, unwanted pregnancy, chronic health conditions, homelessness, homophobia and, yes, Covid.

It’s hard to pick favorites, but here are the ten SXSW features and two short films we haven’t stopped thinking about, in no particular order.

Recovery Directed by Mallory Everton and Stephen Meek, written by Everton and Whitney Call

“Covid 19 is in charge now” might be the most hauntingly funny line in a SXSW film. In Recovery, two sisters set out on a haywire road trip to rescue their grandmother from her nursing home in the wake of a severe Covid 19 outbreak. There’s no random villain or threat, because isn’t being forced to exist during a pandemic enough of a threat in itself? If ever we were worried about “Covid comedies”, SXSW managed to flush out the good ones. (Read about the Festiville team’s other favorite Covid-inflected comedies, including an interview with the directors of I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking).)

Alex Marzona praises the “off-the-charts chemistry” between leads Mallory Everton and Whitney Call. Best friends since they were nine, the pair also wrote the film, with Everton co-directing with Stephen Meek. Every laugh comes from your gut and feels like something only the cast and crew would usually be privy to. “You can tell a lot of the content is improvised, which just attests to their talent,” writes Emma. Recovery doesn’t make you laugh awkwardly about how awful the last year has been—rather, it reminds you that even in such times there are still laughs to be had, trips to be taken, family worth uprooting everything for. Just make sure you’ve packed enough wet wipes for the road, and think long and hard about who should babysit your mice. —EK

The Spine of Night Written and directed by Morgan Galen King and Philip Gelatt

Don’t get too attached to any characters from its star-studded cast—nobody is safe (or fully-clothed) in The Spine of Night’s raw, ultra-violent and cynical world. Conjured over the last seven years, directors Philip Gelatt and Morgan Galen King’s rotoscoped epic recaptures the dazzling imagination and scope of their influences Ralph Bakshi and Heavy Metal. Approaching an anthology-style structure to explore how ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’—a proverb more potent now than when Gelatt and King began their project—the film packs a franchise’s worth of ideas in its 90-minute runtime. Though the storytelling justifiably proves itself overly dense for some, it will find the audience it’s after, as other Letterboxd members have declared it “a rare treat” and “a breath of fresh air in the feature-length animation scene”. For sure, The Spine of Night can join Sundance premieres Flee and Cryptozoo in what’s already a compelling year for unique two-dimensional animation. —JM

Kambole Campbell caught up with Gelatt and King (who are also Letterboxd members!) during SXSW to talk about animation inspirations and rotoscoping techniques.

The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson Written and directed by Leah Purcell

Snakes, steers and scoundrels beware! Writer-director-star Leah Purcell ably repurposes the Western genre for Aboriginal and female voices in The Drover’s Wife. Molly Johnson is a crack-shot anti-heroine for the ages, in this decolonized reimagining of a classic 1892 short story by Henry Lawson. And by reimagining, we mean a seismic shift in the narrative: Purcell has fleshed out a full story of a mother-of-four, pregnant with her fifth, a missing husband, predatory neighbors, a mysterious runaway and a young English couple on different paths to progress in this remote Southern land. Purcell first adapted this story for the stage, then as published fiction; she rightly takes the leading role in the screen version, too.

As a debut feature director, Purcell (Goa-Gunggari-Wakka Wakka Murri) already has a firm grip on the macabre and the menacing, not shying away from violence, but making very careful decisions about what needs to be depicted, given all that Molly Johnson and her family are subjected to. She also sneaks in mystic touches, and a hint of romance (local heartthrob Rob Collins can take us on a walk to where the Snowy widens to see blooming wildflowers anytime). Judging by early Letterboxd reviews, it’s not for everyone, but this is Australian colonization through an Indigenous feminist’s eyes, with a fierce, intersectional pay-off. “Extremely similar to a vast majority of the issues and themes explored in The Nightingale,” writes Claira. “I’m slowly realizing that my favorite type of Westerns are Australian.” —LK, GG

Swan Song Written and directed by Todd Stephens

Udo Kier is often the bridesmaid, rarely the bride. Now, after a lifetime of supporting roles ranging from vampires and villains to art-house muse, he finally gets to shine center-stage in Swan Song. Kier dazzles as a coiffure soothsayer in this lyrical pageant to the passage of queer times in backwater Sandusky, Ohio. “He is absolutely wonderful here,” writes Adrianna, “digging deep and pulling out a mesmerizing, deeply affecting and emotionally textured performance, proving that he’s an actor with much more range than people give him credit for.”

A strong supporting cast all have melancholy moments to shine, with Linda Evans (Dynasty), Michael Urie (Ugly Betty) and Jennifer Coolidge (Legally Blonde) along for the stroll. Surreal camp touches add joy (that chandelier, the needle drop!) but by the end, the tears roll (both of joy and sadness). Writer-director Todd Stephens ties up his Sandusky trilogy in this hometown homage, a career peak for both him and Kier. Robert Daniels puts it well, writing that Swan Song is “campy as hell, but it’s also a heartfelt LGBTQ story about lost lovers and friends, vibrant memories and the final passage of a colorful life.” —LK

Leo Koziol spoke with Todd Stephens and Udo Kier during SXSW about Grace Jones, David Bowie and dancing with yourself.

Islands Written and directed by Martin Edralin

Islands is a Mike Leigh-esque story that presents a Canadian Filipino immigrant family full of quirk and character, centered around Joshua, a reticent 50-year-old homebody son. The story drifts in and out of a deep well of sadness. Moments of lightness and familial love make the journey worthwhile. “A film so Filipino a main plot device is line-dancing,” writes Karl. “Islands is an incredibly empathetic film about what it’s like to feel unmoored from comfort. It’s distinctly Filipino and deals with the psychology of Asian culture in a way that feels both profound and oddly comforting.” In a year in which we’ve all been forced to physically slow down, Islands “shows us how slow life can be,” writes Justin, “and how important it is to be okay with that.” Rogelio Balagtas’s performance as Joshua—a first-time leading role—won him the SXSW Grand Jury Award for Breakthrough Performance. —LK

Ninjababy Directed by Yngvild Sve Flikke, written by Flikke with Johan Fasting and Inga H. Sætre

Ninjababy is as ridiculous as its title. When 23-year-old Rakel finds herself accidentally pregnant, scheduling an abortion is a no-brainer. But she’s way too far along, she’s informed, so she’s going to have to have the baby. The ensuing meltdown might have been heartbreaking if the film wasn’t so damn funny. Ninjababy draws on the comforting and familiar (“Lizzie McGuire if she was a pregnant young adult,” writes Nick), while mixing shock with originality (Erica Richards notices “a few aggressive and vulgar moments [but] somehow none of it seemed misplaced”).

An animated fetus in the style of Rakel’s own drawings appears to beg and shame Rakel into motherhood while she fights to hold onto her confidence that not wanting to be a mother doesn’t make her a bad person. Ninjababy’s greatest feat is its willingness to delve into that complication: yes, it’s righteous and feminist and 21st-century to claim your own body and life, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to turn away from something growing inside of you. It’s a comedy about shame, art, finding care in unlikely places—and there’s something in it for the gents, too. The titular ninjababy wouldn’t leave Rakel alone, and it’s unlikely to leave you either. Winner of the SXSW Global Audience Award. —SH

The Fallout Written and directed by Megan Park

Canadian actress Megan Park brought the youthful wisdom of her days on the teen drama series The Secret Life of the American Teenager to her first project behind the camera, and it paid off. Following the scattered after-effects of a school shooting, The Fallout may be the most acute, empathetic depiction of childhood trauma on screen in recent memory. “It sneaks up on you with its honesty and how it spends time with its lead, carried so beautifully by Jenna Ortega. Even the more conventional moments are poignant because of context,” writes Kevin L. Lee. Much of that “sneaky” honesty emerges as humor—despite the heavy premise, moments of hilarity hang on the edges of almost every scene. And Ortega’s portrayal of sweet-but-angsty Vada brings self-awareness to that humor, like when Vada’s avoidant, inappropriate jokes with her therapist reveal her desperation, but they garner genuine laughs nonetheless.

In this debut, Park shows an unmatched understanding of non-linear ways that young people process their pain. Sometimes kids try drugs! Sometimes they scream at their parents! But more often than not, they really do know what they want, who loves them, and how much time they need to grieve (see also: Jessie Barr’s Sophie Jones, starring her cousin Jessica Barr, out now on VOD and in theaters). The Fallout forsakes melodrama to embrace confusion, ambiguity and joy. Winner of both the SXSW Grand Jury and Audience Narrative Feature Awards, and the Brightcove Illumination Award. —SH

Ludi Directed by Edson Jean, written by Jean and Joshua Jean-Baptiste

When Ludi begins, it’s quiet and dreamy. The film’s opening moments conjure the simple pleasures of the titular character’s Haitian heritage: the music, the colors, the people. Ludi (Shein Monpremier) smiles to herself as she starts her morning with a tape recording her cousin mailed from Haiti to Miami, and listens as her family members laugh through their troubles before recording an upbeat tape of her own. But that’s where the dreaminess ends—Ludi is an overworked, underpaid nurse picking up every shift she possibly can in order to send money home. Writer-director Edson Jean fixates on the pains and consequences of Ludi’s relentless determination, which comes to a head when she moonlights as a private nurse for an old man who doesn’t want her there.

Ashton Kinley notes how the film “doesn’t overly dramatize or pull at false emotional strings to make its weight felt. The second half of the feature really allows all of that to shine, as the film becomes a tender and empathetic two-hander.” George’s (Alan Myles Heyman) resentment of his own aging body steps in as Ludi’s antagonist. Jean throws together jarring contrasts: George throwing Ludi out of the bathroom, followed by Ludi’s memories of home, followed by another lashing out, followed by a shared prayer. The tension is unsustainable. By interspersing the back-breaking predicament of a working-class immigrant with the sights and sounds of the Caribbean, Ludi elegantly, painfully reveals what the cost of a dream can be. —SH

Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror Written and directed by Kier-La Janisse

Building on the folk horror resurgence of films like The Witch and Midsommar, Kier-La Janisse’s 193-minute documentary Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched is a colossal, staggering undertaking that should school even the most seasoned of horror buffs. “Thorough is an understatement,” says Claira.

Combining a historian’s studied, holistic patience with a cinephile’s rabid, insatiable thirst, the film, through the course of six chapters, broadens textbook British definitions, draws trenchant socio-political and thematic connections, debunks myths and transports viewers to far-flung parts of the globe in a way that almost feels anthropological. As Jordan writes, “Three hours later and my mind is racing between philosophical questions about the state of hauntology we generationally entrap ourselves in, wanting to buy every single one of the 100+ films referenced here, and being just a bit in awe of Janisse’s truly breathless work.” An encyclopedic forest worth losing yourself in—get ready for those watchlists to balloon. Winner of the SXSW Midnighters Audience Award. —AY

Introducing, Selma Blair Directed by Rachel Fleit

There’ll likely be some level of hype when this intimate collaboration between actress Selma Blair and filmmaker Rachel Fleit comes out later in the year on Discovery+, and that’s okay, because that is Blair’s intention in sharing the details of her stem-cell transplant for multiple sclerosis. There’d be little point in going there if you are not prepared to really go there, and Introducing, Selma Blair is a tics-and-all journey not just into what life is like with a chronic condition, a young son, and a career that relies on one’s ability to keep a straight face. It’s also an examination of the scar tissue of childhood, the things we are told by our parents, the ideas we come to believe about ourselves. “I almost felt like I shouldn’t have such intimate access to some of the footage in this documentary,” writes Andy Yen. “Bravo to Selma for allowing the filmmakers to show some truly raw and soul-bearing videos about her battle with multiple sclerosis that make us feel as if we are as close to her as family.” —GG

Femme Directed by Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping

I May Destroy You fans, rejoice: Paapa Essiedu, who played Arabella’s fascinating best friend Kwame, takes center stage in Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping’s intoxicating short film Femme. It’s a simple premise—Jordan, a femme gay man, follows his drug dealer (Harris Dickinson, mastering the sexually repressed brusque young man like no one else) home to pick up some goods on a night out. Except, of course, it’s not that simple. The co-directors build a world of danger, tension and electricity, with lusciously lensed scenes that lose focus as the threat rises. Frankie calls it “hypnotizing and brutal and gorgeous” and we couldn’t agree more. A crime thriller wrestling with hyper-masculinity seen through the eyes of an LGBTQ+ character, with a sucker-punch ending to boot, the world needs more than twenty minutes of this story. —EK

Play It Safe Directed by Mitch Kalisa

If you (unwisely) thought that the vulnerable, progressive environment of drama school would be a safe space for Black students, Play It Safe confirms that even a liberal bunch of actors (and their teacher) are capable of being blind to their own egregiously racist microagressions. Mitch Kalisa’s excellent short film explores structural prejudice head-on, in an electric acting exercise that rests on where the kinetic, gritty 16mm camera is pointing at every pivotal turn. At first, we’re with Black drama student Jonathan Ajayi as he receives the assignment; then we are with the rest of the class, exactly where we need to be. “Literally in your face and absolutely breathtaking,” writes Nia. A deserving winner of the SXSW Grand Jury and Audience narrative shorts prizes. —GG

Follow the Festiville team on Letterboxd

#sxsw #south by southwest #sxsw 2021 #sxswonline #SXSW Film #janet pierson #film festival #letterboxd #letterboxd best

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minhoseok · 4 years

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Infiltration Yandere!YangYang

pairing: yangyang x reader (fem)

description: yangyang got himself into a mental ward because of you. you decide to pay a visit to see why he would put his life aside for someone like you. you end up finding out more than that.

Warnings : its yandere, so its going to be toxic, gore-ish and unhealthy. this is purely fiction and does not represent the members or Yangyang in any way

based on the wayv teaser : 10110

Blood stained nails tapped against the brick wall, head banging against it for what seemed like the hundredth time today, Yangyang was at it again. Everyday it was the same thing, he woke up, ate barely enough, self loathed, then yearned for y/n. This was how it had been for the past year.

Audible footsteps approached his cell as he dragged his nails up against the worn out brick, eyes peering up the slightest. Muffled voices could be heard from the inner walls of the cell. The gruff voices of the body guards and a female voice could be heard. Hearing the locks free he finally looks up.

Yangyang grins as he tries to stand up from his bed, crammed in the corner of the room. Walking towards the two figures at the door going as far forward as he could with the restraints on his ankles.

Y/n stepped back with caution, picking at the skin around her fingers, causing them to bleed as she tried to calm herself down. She’d been requested to come by the mental hospital by Yangyang himself, ever since he had first ended up there.

“Y/n...” his throat rough and dry due to his refusal to drink anything. Eyes study her through his overgrown bangs. Red stained hands reach out to feel her face as she gets pulled back by one of the guards.

“Don’t push it” he uttered to the shorter boy. He glared at the taller individual.

Y/n got the hint that he was obviously uncomfortable around him due to the thick tension in the room. “You guys can leave, I’ll be ok” y/n voiced out quietly. Directing her eyes away from the young boys stare, trained on her

Nodding in agreement the two guards left the room. Only to stand outside, in case things got out of hand.

“Y/n you’re here? Why?” He teased, taunting her, hoping to drive her as mad as she drove him.

“They said you wanted to talk, and I” she paused “ and I wanted answers” she said looking him in the eye, emotionless.

She stood a good distance away from him. Close to the door., way too far for him to even get close.

“Ahh I see, so you didn’t visit because you missed me?” a small frown was visible yet you could see the smugness that lurked behind it.

“Look, why did you follow me, stalk me? Kill all those people?”

He purses his lips, ruffling his rough, matted hair. “Very straight forward I see? I’ll give you an answer similar to that too. They touched you. Something that was mine. They don’t deserve to live” he basically sang out. grin playing at his lips once again as he remembered the way he ruined them slowly, how he was successful in protecting what was his.

He was snapped out of his daze when he thought about the stupid cell he was forced into. They took her away from him. He couldn’t protect his love anymore when he was chained to the wall, too distant from his precious y/n.

She suddenly took steps closer. Curious to see how far he’d go. He shuffled closer until his restraints were tight, skin around his bare feet were burning and slowly ripping the skin apart.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” she watched in horror and disgust while closely observing him. He looked up at her with eyes that could pierce through you and huffed “because I love you sweetie” he tried to move even closer to her, bolts bearing the restraints, on the brink of falling off. He knew how close he was to getting her. He just had to figure out how to get out without anyone ruining his plans.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but you stalked me for a good year, killed a bunch of people cause apparently they messed with me and now you’ve ended up here in this hell because you wasted your time on a lowlife like me.” She turned to leave before the tears fell.

“You’re not a waste” his jaw clenched at the thought of her thinking so lowly of herself. She deserves the world. Only I deserve her. Before she could leave, one final tug of his leg broke the chain.

In panic of hearing the burst, she turned around only to see Yangyang towering over her. Engulfing her in a hug.

“Please don’t leave me, not again”

Fear struck. Not knowing what to do she froze. Letting him enclose her into his arms. He held her tightly, pushing her head against his chest while raking bloody fingers through her hair. Her smaller frame having no chance against him despite him having such low energy and power.

Adrenaline suddenly rushing through her blood. She shoved him back with all her might. Even if it didn’t do much. She fumbled with the emergency button they handed her and pressed the button in a heartbeat.

Deafening sirens blasted and rang throughout the room. The door bursting open with at least 5 people ready to move. The two body guards from earlier were the first to go in.

Yangyang, still dazed from the sudden outburst from you, was still surprised and stood on the other side of the room, being restrained down to the floor. Weakly struggling against their strong hold. The other 3 finally walked in when they deemed it was safe.

You had only noticed in their hands was a shiny syringe, ready to put into action. You glanced at the boy who was yielding and thrashing. He looked up with sincere eyes, suddenly bursting out with laughter, the psychopathic side of him shining right through. Just before the nurses inject him with the drug. Before you know it. He was out.

-----

Y/n drove home in silence, the radio wasn't on as usual, ever since she saw Yangyang she hadn’t felt like herself. Her hands clenched the wheel as she stopped at the red light, knuckles turning white as she got caught up in her thoughts.

‘So that’s who was following me? A psychopath who claims to love me?’ She was shoved out of her train of thought when she heard a honk behind her; signaling the green light. She continued to drive home. Still weary of her surroundings, she still couldn’t get the thought out of her head. Had she really been the cause of countless deaths?

“Hello?” Y/n hurriedly spoke into the phone. Picking it up the second she had heard the call not caring for the caller ID

“Hey y/n we know you only came a few days ago but we need you here as soon as possible”

She recognised the voice, it was the head chief that had requested you go see Yangyang.

“ Hey um is everything ok?” she spoke leg bouncing as she tried to keep herself from panicking. What had gone wrong during the 3 days she was away?

“I think it's best if you come see for yourself”

“I'll be there in 30 minutes”

Y/n pulled up in the familiar parking lot of the large, barricaded building. She stepped out of her car and walked to the gate, to be greeted by two guards who stopped her before entering. One of them handed a mask to her, then stepped aside, opening the doors.

She found herself walking down the walkway that held foul memories, finding it hard to breathe she drank some water she brought with her.

“Ah y/n nice to see you” acknowledged Jaimson, the head officer. He then gestures for her to follow him down another hallway, leading up to the cell where she had met YangYang.

“I want you to talk to him, ask him the remaining questions we prompted you to last time. He’s gone a bit more mad than when you last saw him. If the light starts flashing blue I want you to put in the mask and move as close to the door as you can until someone gets you out. If he acts up we’re going to knock him out with some gas so make sure your mask is fixed on properly if it comes to that ok?”

Y/n nods her head, feeling drowsy, stomach churning in fear.

The iron door opened, and once again she felt so small, helpless.

She felt his eyes on her, head hung low, she quivered.

When she finally looked up the room was unrecognizable. Marks all over the room in assortments of colours, resembling those alleyways full of graffiti.

This time Yangyang was restrained to a chair behind a table. He looked through his overgrown bangs and glanced at the empty seat across him. Inviting her to sit.

Clutching the mask in her hand to her chest she decided to finally sit. Yangyang let out a low chuckle.

“Why” was all that y/n could utter out. Barely audible but yangyang heard it loud and clear.

“Because my love” he took a breath in, glanced around the room, then fixing his eyes on hers. “They touched you, disgusting imbeciles like them don’t deserve to live” he simply said, not phasing his calm yet eerie demeanor one bit.

Y/n took a breath in, unsure what to say in response.

“Well what’s so good about me then?” She suddenly came up with “what makes me any different than them?”

“You?” He suddenly tried to stand up though the chains keeping him seated, hands rigid against the cuffs

“You are a gift from the gods y/n, never and when I say never I mean it. Never compare yourself to those scums.”

“Well what makes you any better than them?”

That’s when he snapped. Struggling against his restraints, he was furious. “YOU! I’m here to protect you. I’m here to keep those idiots away to protect you.”

He calmed down and slowly sat back down and chuckled again.

“Isn’t that what love is about darling?” He cocked his head, a sinister grin forming.

“That isn’t love. You’re fucking crazy” her newfound confidence taking over her.

“Isn’t that what they say? Love makes you crazy doesn’t it?” Flashing his pearly whites.

“You’re obsessed” she blankly stared, all emotion leaving her.

She got up and left the room. His laugh ringing through the room, haunting her as she silently dragged herself out.

“Hey Y/n how are you?” Rang through her phone, her friend Cherlyn was on call while y/n was getting ready to sleep after the long day.

“I’m alright, you?” She tied her hair up, ready to wash her face.

After chatting for a while, Cheryln brings up something unforgettable.

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

“Yangyang escaped”

Days passed,though it felt like years , y/n was too scared to leave her house, yet she felt her house was also the most dangerous place to be. He knew where she lived. He knew everything about her.

Driving back from a quick grocery errand she zoomed through the breeze, it had been days since she left her house, lack of food forcing her to get out. She made some rules for herself. If she has to get out of the house she has to leave while the sun is up and she has to bring her pepper spray and pocket knife. Not that they’d help much over an overly obsessed psychopath of a stalker that’s killed.

After parking her car and warily taking her groceries out she got ready to sprint up 3 flights of stairs without encountering anyone and dropping anything.

Running up wasn’t a problem for her. The problem was she has a whole carton of eggs and a bottle of milk she had to carry up without turning it into an omelet.

Finally reaching her door to her apartment she reached for her keys to unlock the door. Noticing her door was slightly ajar. “I could have sworn I locked my door” she mumbled under her breath.

Pushing the door open she was wary of her surroundings, looking around to see if anything was out of place. Given the state she was in she decided she must’ve accidentally left the door unlocked, pushing herself to remember not to do it next time.

Putting her groceries down she went to lock her door, noticing that she didn’t forget to lock it, but her lock had been picked at and basically destroyed.

Her heart dropped. Frantically looking around her house she came across her photos of her friends, photo frames shattered on the floor, marker drawn all over it. The shelf of photos was replaced with new photos. Photos of her when she thought she was alone, undressing, even in the shower.

Her face showed a mix of fear and disgust. Running to her room she got one of her baseball bats from when she used to play in highschool. She backed out of her room, clutching the bat in her hand, phone in the other. She looked around for possible threats. She decided to check all the other rooms. Checking her bathroom last, she shrieked. In her bathtub was a very much dead cherlyn and written on the mirror in what seems like her blood ‘TOLD YOU I’D PROTECT YOU’

Y/n look in the mirror once more seeing a masked shadow behind her, the same one she had prayed to never see again.

“Goodnight baby” the voice whispered as the cloth was held against her, knocking her out

The room was semi dark, an uncomfortable atmosphere surrounding her semi conscious body, tied to a chair. Towered in front of her was the person she feared most. The bright light suddenly illuminated the small basement. He touched her cheek softly, embracing the warmth he never got. The one he sacrificed everything for. “So beautiful,” he said, studying her features from up close, even in the state she was in she still looked like a goddess to him.

Eyes fluttering open she tried to rub her eyes, noticing the unusual restraint and uncomfortably dark light. She tried to call for help, not noticing the cloth tied to her mouth, drenched with her saliva.

Once she got used to the harsh light she saw him. Standing in front of her, a bright smile on his face, like a kid waking up on christmas day. y/n instinctively tried to move back, however unable to. Limbs carefully tied to the chair, held her down very well. Attempting to yell at him through the cloth she tried to wriggle her way out of the restraints.

‘Maybe if i pretend im hurt he’ll let me go?’ she thought to herself.

“Shh sweetheart don't scream, i won't hurt you, well unless you make me” he giggled to himself. “Look I’ll make a deal with you, I’ll take the gag off if you promise me you won't scream ok? If you don't try anything I’ll give you some water, maybe I’ll even let you talk to me.” he cooed

She nodded, eyes pleading in hope to win him over.

He smiled at her submissiveness and squatted down to her level. “Good girl” he was glad that he wouldn't have to use force to get her to listen.

Untying the gag he looked her in the eye, his adoration visible. Once the gag was off she took a deep breath. Worried what he would do with her now.

“W-why d-did you do this t-to me’ y/n croaked.

‘Baby u dont needa stutter with me’ he says, still caressing her cheek. She flinches away from his touch making yangyang frown. “C’mon y/n you know i wouldn't hurt you if my life depended on it. Well, unless you try to escape or make me jealous. Other than that you basically have me wrapped around your finger. I’d do anything for you.”

“Yangyang i-” she started to cough “water, please” she whispered.

“Oh right, i'll be back in a minute. Don't try to escape. Or else” she nodded quickly, a small ‘ok’ leaving her lips. He hesitantly walked towards the door and went to get some water.

Once she was sure he left by craning her neck she then pulled out the pocket knife she swore to keep with her all the time and cut the ropes around her wrist carefully, then smoothly slid out the ropes. Bending down she cuts off the ropes that tie her legs to the chair and slowly stands up, praying to not make any noise.

She got ready to get out or at least hide from him when she was interrupted with him standing at the doorway with a glass of warm water, and a very unhappy look.

“What did i tell you about escaping y/n? ” he frowned “I trusted you!” Yangyang slowly losing his patience, getting angrier by the second.

Backing her up into a corner she started to panic. At this point she was just bracing herself for the pain. Tears flowing down her face.

“ Please don't cry, i know you’re scared and confused, so I’ll let you slip this time ok? Next time I won't be as forgiving and you’ll be punished,” attempting to calm her down he kept his distance, he handed her the glass of water he had originally come to give her.

Suspicious of the water he just held it in her shaky hands. Noticing her hesitation, Yangyang sighed. “look i didn't put anything in it” he took the cup out of her hands and took a sip and made sure she saw he swallowed it “see?’. She hesitantly takes it back and chugs it all down

“Better?” he asked

“Yes. Thank you yangyang” the last part coming out as a soft whisper

“What did you say?”

“Thank you Yangyang”

“Good girl”

(a/n: it was originally longer than this but it got messy so i might post the remaining bit if you guys want)

#nct #nct yandere #yandere nct #wayv #nct yangyang #wayv yangyang #wayv yandere #wayvyandere #yangyangyandere #nctyangyang #nctsmut #wayv smut #yandere #yandere wayv #liu yangyang #yangyang

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professional-benaddict · 4 years

Note

hi! i'm not sure if i missed the prompt time (pls just ignore me if they're closed now!) but i was wandering if you could write some more about lil peter (or any other little!) at the dentist? i love those bits of LP so much. like maybe he needs braces, or has a lil cavity? and he gets tummy rubs to calm him down while he's in the chair, or a CG holding his hands so he doesn't reach up and stop the dentist working. thank you so much if you choose to write this! i love your work!

aHhh thank you sm for sharing babe!!🌸 dentist movements do hit a bit different🥺💓 i hope you like this and i’ll keep in mind to do another dentist chapter in LP too!!

Daddy Tony, +18 Little Peter, dentist, dental appointments, cavities, dental procedure, angst, nerves, fluff, comfort, or just Peter being a bit nervous till he gets gas

This has got to be the worst thing ever, Peter decides when his name is called at the dentist’s waiting room. The nurse showing him and his Daddy in is nice enough, but Peter knows they are all lying. This whole place is a lie, and Peter hates it with his guts.

They had been here a week ago, and since one visit didn’t seem to be enough, the dentist had scheduled another. Something about a hole in Peter’s tooth that needed to be fixed. But, how does making another hole in the already existing hole make in any better? That just makes even more hole. This doesn’t make any sense, and so Peter sees no point in greeting the dentist when she comes in.

“Hi, you two! Hey, Peter. How are you today?”

When Peter doesn’t respond besides pouting and keeping his arms folded still, Tony steps in from where he is sat next to Peter.

“Hi, a bit nervous, I’m afraid. Forgive us.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem. It’s very common.” The female dentist, Charlotte, assures with a smile. “So, Peter, we’re gonna fix your tooth today. Has it started hurting since last time?”

“Nuh uh.” Peter replies, and he is being honest this time. Why is he here if it’s not even hurting? “But, why?”

“Why what?” Charlotte asks kindly.

“Why you gotta fix when it doesn’t hurt?”

“Because there’s a hole in your tooth, bud. And I’m glad it hasn’t started hurting, but it will if we don’t fix it. And me nor your Daddy want you to be in any pain, so we’ll be fixing it today to prevent any pain in the future. Does that make sense? Shall I tell you more? It is kinda tricky.”

“Hmm. Will it hurt? Fixing it?” Peter asks. Seeing that Peter is scared, Tony reaches a hand forward to rub the boy’s tummy.

“Not at all. I’ll give you a numbing cream before I do anything and then-” Charlotte pauses to grab something to show Peter and Tony. “We have this. It’s a mask that I’ll put on your nose. It has some gas in it that will make you nice and relaxed. Many Littles like you use it when they come here. They really like it.”

“Is almost like that one time.” Peter says to Tony, pointing at the mask.

“Yeah! It is. And that went well too, right? And so will this.” Tony assures and gives an extra rub to the boy’s tummy. “Peter had surgery a year ago, so he is familiar with anesthesia masks.” The caregiver says to the dentist so that she’s on board too.

“It’s a bit like those, yeah, you’re right, Peter. Shall we try it then?” Charlotte suggests. Peter nods a little nervously.

Once the nose mask is on, Peter is as complient and still as one could possibly be. It is almost too effective and Tony starts to wonder what really is in that gas. Peter doesn’t make any sort of distressed or pained noise, not even during the drilling itself, nor during the numbing injections beforehand. Tony keeps rubbing his tummy still and occassionally kisses his limp hand too. Charlotte also gives Peter praise throughout, while also keeping the boy up to date on what she is doing, in short and simple terms of course.

Half an hour later, Charlotte is done filling the cavity and frees Peter’s mouth from the spreader that she had put in to keep his jaws open. Tony chuckles in sympathy for the boy when he sees his dazed and bewildered expression.

“D-aa...” Peter tries, but his swollen tongue and the side of his mouth can barely make the sound properly. Tony just shushes him and helps him to sit up, then takes him into his arms.

“You should take him home now to rest for a few hours. And he can’t eat or drink quite yet. You’ll have to wait a couple of hours for that too.” Charlotte advises and shakes Tony’s hand while the man holds Peter up to his chest with the other.

“Thanks a lot, Charlotte. I feared that this would go a lot worse, but- you managed him pretty well.” Tony admits with a chuckle. He doubts that Peter can comprehend what he is saying so no harm will be done to the boy’s pride.

“Oh, I’d say most of that was thanks to you. You were really good with him.”

Tony blushes a bit and thanks the dentist again before heading out, with Peter drooling on his shoulder.

#my prompts #little!peter #daddy!tony #starker #tony stark/peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker #tony stark #ask

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underimagines · 4 years

Text

Commission - A Time of Need

Mob/Mafiatale!Asgore, Chara, and Sans’ reaction to their human female S/O going missing for a week. Only to turn up bloody, broken, and near death in an alley, turned into a Boss monster. And what they'd do after getting them home/hospital/whichever while they where unconscious? (i.e. Stay at their side, go hunting for people who did that, etc, etc?)

Fandom: Mobtale/Mafiatale Pairings: Asgore/Reader, Sans/Reader, Chara/Reader Length: 3k (1k per Scenario) Rating: T+

For @jainwolfe! Thank you again for commissioning me!

Mob/Mafiatale-Asgore:

Asgore knew he was lucky just to have you back, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilt every time he looked at you.

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered, squeezing the hand you offered him tightly. But not too tightly. You were still healing, after all.

“It’s okay.” You replied, smiling kindly. By the stars, he loved that smile. He’d die a thousand deaths just to keep it on your face. “I’m here.”

“How are you feeling?” He asked, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes. He surveyed the bandages wrapped around your arms, waist, legs, and head. The patch over your eye taunted him, reminding him so much of Undyne.

“Better. Weird.” You shifted in the hospital bed slightly, trying not to jostle the IV in your arm too much. “It’s like, something changed inside of me. But I can’t put a finger on what.”

“It’s the magic in your system.” He explained gently. “Doctor Alphys injected you with some DT. I’m not sure what it stands for. Doing Treatments, maybe?”

You laughed, and he felt his stomach flutter. “Maybe.”

“Do they hurt?” He asked after a moment of silence, gesturing at the horns protruding from your forehead.

You touched them and winced. That was all the answer he needed, even as you furiously shook your head. “Not really.”

“Do you…remember anything that happened that night?”

You looked away, eyes growing foggy. Asgore clasped your hand between both of his. “Please, I need to know what happened.”

“It’s…foggy.” You sighed. “Like a dream. It all happened so fast. I was walking home after work. I was almost at the complex, when this car pulled up. The guy inside rolled down the window and asked me something—I can’t remember what. But next thing I knew, I was being grabbed and…”

You trailed off, biting down on your lower lip as tears built up in your eyes. “They did things to me, Asgore. Horrible things. They told me I was going to be ransom, that they were going to make you pay to get me back. They beat me, when I tried to fight back.”

You shuddered, violently, curling in on yourself at the memory. “I don’t even remember their faces. But I remember what they did to me.”

Asgore felt his brows furrow and his face set in determination. “Don’t worry, we’re going to catch them.”

“How?” You asked. It was half sob, half laugh. “How are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know.” He admitted, closing his eyes. Only to open them a moment later and give you an optimistic smile. “But we have Undyne on the case, so you can rest assured. She won’t give up until whoever did this to you is brought to justice. And I won’t either.”

“Thank you.” You sighed, squeezing his hand affectionately. “I’m…I’m tired. Is it okay if I take a nap?”

“Of course!” Asgore replied. “You must be exhausted, after everything you went through. Please, my dear, rest. I’ll be watching over you.”

“Thank you.” Your eyes grew heavy as sleep swept through you. “Asgore…”

In a matter of moments, you were out like a light. Asgore stayed by your side, clutching your hand tightly in his own. He only looked away from you when a nurse entered the room.

“How are they doing?” The bunny monster asked, her voice quiet and gentle as she crept inside, careful not to disturb you. She shifted the manila envelope tucked under her arm into her hands as she approached Asgore.

“They are suffering.” He replied. “Their soul—how did…?”

“Here are the test results.” She handed him the envelope.

He opened it, gingerly, sliding out the photos of the X-Rays they’d taken of your injuries. A few broken bones. Bruises, cuts, lacerations, gashes. The sight of them made his stomach turn.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst was your soul.

Humans weren’t made to absorb other souls. Or to absorb anything into their souls, really. But somehow, you had. Maybe it was all the time you’d spent with him, that had caused his magic to rub off on you.

But your soul was different now.

Instead of an upright heart, like most humans had, it was upside down. Only monsters had upside-down hearts. And the white glow that patched together the spiderweb of cracks decorating the surface of your soul was far too familiar for him to ignore.

Whatever you were now, it wasn’t human.

“Their readings,” the nurse explained softly, “are the most unusual part of this. They’re not normal soul readings. Even with the additional DT that was added to their system, their body is reacting like that of a monster’s. A human usually has the resilience to face situations like this. But a monster, even a Boss monster, needs a little more help.”

“So, what are they?” He asked, staring hard at the papers grasped in his paws. “Human? A monster? Or something else?”

“The closest similarities we’ve been able to find is that, whatever’s going on with them, it’s turning them into a Boss monster.” The nurse wrung her hands nervously. “The influx of magic in their system is starting to affect them physically as well.”

She gestured towards your sleeping form, and Asgore followed her gaze to the horns poking out of your forehead.

“So, what does that mean?” Asgore whispered, his voice on the verge of breaking. “What should I do?”

“For now,” the nurse laid a hand on his trembling shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, “be there for them. That’s all that you really can do.”

She turned and left the room, just as quietly as she had come, leaving Asgore clutching your files.

She was right. Whatever was happening, he had to be there for you.

Asgore sighed, gently winding his fingers with yours, watching your chest rise and fall as you slept.

“Don’t worry. I’ll always be here for you.”

And he would always mean it.

Mob/Mafiatale-Sans:

Sans didn’t like the way you were looking at him. It was like you were staring right through him.

“babe…” He mumbled, stroking a thumb over your trembling hand, “what the hell happened to ya?”

Your mouth opened, then closed again. Like a fish out of water, struggling to get the words out. “I…I don’t know.”

“something had to have happened.” He gestured at the spines rippling out of your back, thick and bony, like the scales of a dragon leading all the way down to a thin, limp bony tail. “humans don’t usually…y’know, grow tails?”

“I know.” You snapped, then squeezed your eyes shut, rubbing your temples. Your head was probably hurting like hell, and he didn’t blame you for being testy. After everything you’d went through…

“I’m sorry, Sans. I really can’t remember anything. I was just walking home. It was raining. I was at the bus stop. And then—it all goes black.”

He sighed, gripping your hand tightly between his own. “do ya remember us findin’ ya?”

“Kind of?” You shook your head, hairs plastered to your sweaty face. “It’s fuzzy. I was lying on the ground. Everything hurt. My vision was all red. And then I heard shouting. I got scared. I thought they were coming back for me. But—”

“it was papyrus.” Sans explained. “he was the one that found ya, ‘long with undyne. you wouldn’t believe how happy he was. he couldn’t stop crying.”

Neither could Sans. He cried for hours after they’d found you. It took his brother and Toriel to pry him off of you, as he’d clutched onto your unconscious body and sobbed like a total baby-bones.

He still wanted to cry, watching you sit there in the hospital bed. Looking at all the bandages wrapped around your arms and legs and torso. The gauze taped to your swollen cheek, and the patch over your purple eye. You looked like you’d been through hell and back.

You probably had.

“Do the doctors…do they know what’s happening to me?” You asked, gently pulling your hand out of his. You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring at the bony tail laying across your legs with confusion, and a hint of distaste. “What the hell is happening to me?”

“from what alphys says, it has to do with determination.” Sans scratched his skull awkwardly. He really hated explaining things. “y’know, only some humans usually have it. we have no idea how you got so much of it. but…however you did, it did, uh, this.”

Another gesture towards the tail, which curled inwards, as if shying away from his reach. It made him feel even worse than he already did.

“I think they…did something to my soul.” You admitted, finally. “I don’t know why, but I can feel it. There’s something wrong, inside of me.”

“hey, we don’t know that.” Sans placed a trembling hand on your shoulder. “the docs are still running tests, we ought to just wait to see what they can find—”

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. He looked up. You didn’t.

“Excuse me?” A tiny, fluffy mouse dressed in nurse’s scrubs poked her head into the room. “Is now a bad time?”

“nah.” Sans mumbled, though he noticed how you flinched as she stepped up close to the IV running into your arm.

“Alright.” She said softly. “I’ve got the X-Rays here. I figured you’d want to look over them.”

The nurse offered them to you. You, with shaking hands, took them. But you didn’t open the file. You just let it lay there, on your lap.

“Thanks.” You replied in a small voice. “I’ll look at them later.”

“Okay. Take your time.” Then she glanced at Sans. “Visitor hours end soon, just letting you know.”

“sure. thanks.” Sans couldn’t bear the thought of having to wait to see you again. He wanted to stay with you all night. Until you got better, and then he could bring you home. And things would be okay.

The nurse nodded, slinking out of the room.

“hey, maybe i should take a look at those.” He gestured at the files with an incline of his head. “make sure there’s no ray-son to panic.”

You cracked a tiny smile and pushed them towards him.

Sans took the files gingerly and pulled out the first X-Ray.

You were littered with broken bones. The sight of them made him angrier than he’d ever been in his entire life.

He was going to find who did this to you, and he was going to make them pay for it.

But aside from that. He put that slide back and pulled out the next one. Your soul…

For a second, Sans thought he was holding the picture upside-down. But then he realized, no, he wasn’t.

Your soul had turned upside-down.

He felt his nonexistent stomach flip inside of him. Humans didn’t have upside-down souls. And the white glow that patched all of those horrible cracks together was too bright to ignore.

There was only one answer to this, and it was one he didn’t want to accept.

You weren’t a human anymore.

“Sans? What’s wrong?” He looked up, too fast.

You were looking at him, with so much concern. He looked down at the file and realized that his grip had gone so tight that his finger-bones had blanched. He quickly slipped the papers back into their folder, then set it aside.

“s’nothing. forgeddaboutit.” He offered you a wink and a shrug.

It was obvious, from the look on your face, that you didn’t believe him.

“Is something wrong with me?” You asked, softly. Your voice trembled.

“nah.” Sans took your hand, linking your fingers together. The smile he gave you was genuine. “nothing’s wrong with you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Even if you were changing, in ways that Sans didn’t quite understand, he could still tell you that with confidence.

Nothing would ever be wrong with you, in his eyes.

Adult!Mob/Mafiatale-Chara:

You knew they didn’t mean to, but the way they were staring at you was, quite frankly, freaking you out.

“How does it feel?” They asked, pinning you down with that crimson gaze. “To lose your humanity?”

“I don’t feel like I’ve lost anything.” You sighed. “I just feel…different.”

“Differences can feel good or bad.” They continued. “How does yours feel?”

“I’m not sure.” You admitted, flexing your hands. The claws springing from your nail beds looked so wrong. “Not good or bad. Just different.”

They hummed, leaning back in their chair. Head cocked to the side like a curious child.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Just feels…y’know. Off.”

“I don’t mean those.” Now it was Chara’s turn to shake their head. They moved the finger pointed at your claws to the bandages adorning your arms. “I mean those.”

“Oh. Yeah a little bit.” You rubbed the gauze on your forearm self-consciously. “I mean, whoever got ahold of me, they sure did a number on me!”

You tried to laugh, but it just came out as a nervous wheeze. “I still don’t remember who they were, though.”

“We’ll find them.” Chara assured you. “My Family will make sure of it.”

They weren’t just referring to their adoptive family, you knew. They were referring to the entire Family. The nest of spies and gangsters who held New Ebott in an iron grip.

You clutched the blankets in your fists, staring hard at your bandaged hands.

When you looked up at them, they had their hands folded under their chin, and was surveying you like a scientist conducting an experiment. The only part that didn’t fit was the smile plastered onto their face. It was so fake. Painted on, beneath their dead, red-ringed eyes.

“You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Ah.” They closed their eyes. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I? My apologies.”

“It’s not your fault. This is weird for all of us.”

“I’m just thinking of the things I’ll do once I find the people who hurt you.”

That statement sent shivers down your spine. Though there was no emotion in their face, their eyes were burning like the fires of hell. It made you feel nervous, like a bird trapped under the gaze of a snake.

“I’m going to hurt them. Much, much worse.” Chara giggled. It sounded childish coming out of their throat. “I’m going to make them regret ever laying a hand on you.”

“Chara.” You stated firmly. “I don’t need a quest for vengeance. I just need you. Right here, right now.”

They blinked, slowly.

“I’m…sorry.” They sighed, shaking their head again. “I know I should put aside my personal hang-ups for your sake, but. It’s difficult.”

“Can you try?” You pleaded, offering them your hand.

They stared at your outstretched palm for a moment then slowly, hesitantly, placed their hand in yours. You wove your fingers together. Their hands were so cold, like they’d been holding onto ice cubes the entire time they were by your side.

“I’m scared, Chara.” You admitted. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“I’ll admit, I’m at a loss as well. This is. Extremely unexpected.”

At that moment, there was a loud knock at the door. You jumped, and Chara’s head snapped around so suddenly that you were surprised they didn’t break something.

A nurse poked her head into the room. The sight of her giant flower face, lined with teeth, reminded you of Audrey 2 from Little Shop of Horrors. Her body was enigmatic beneath the uniform that hung off her misshapen frame.

“Is this a bad time?” She asked in a gentle, soothing voice.

“No,” You said at the same time Chara said, “Yes.”

You shot them a glare and they refused to meet it. They just pouted.

“Well, I’ve got the files from the doctor here. I figured you’d like to look them over.”

She set them on the tiny table next to your hospital bed, and walked around, surveying the IV sticking out of your arm. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Better than I did when I came in.” You offered with a dry laugh.

Her smile should have comforted you, but instead, you were kind of worried she’d try to take a bite out of you instead. Feed me, Seymour.

“Let me know if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable.” She adjusted your pillow, tugged the blankets up over your chest, and left with a soft goodbye.

You waved after her, and when you looked back at Chara, they were grasping the manila envelope in their hands. They looked up at you, their eyes following your tongue as it swept over the fangs sticking out from under your top lip.

“Do you want to look through it?” You asked.

“Perhaps it would be best that I did.” They mumbled, tearing it open.

The first image was that of your body. Coated with bruises, cuts, and a few very noticeable broken bones sticking out of odd parts of your body. Just the sight of the photo made them sick. They wanted to rip it into pieces.

Next came the X-Ray of your soul.

No longer was it a right-side up solid heart, brimming with color and energy. Now it was upside-down, much like a Monster’s soul, littered with cracks like a smashed window, and stitched together again with a rich white glow.

It certainly explained the claws and fangs. From what they could guess, this was a transformation of sorts. Your body had reacted to the trauma by helping you survive in anyway that it could: which meant, apparently, turning you into a Boss Monster.

“How does it look?” You asked. They could hear the anxiety in your voice, and as much as they wanted to give you the info straight, that wasn’t what you needed right now.

They looked up at you and the smile on their face finally reached their eyes.

“Different.”

#commission #adulttale #mobtale #mafiatale #asgore dreemurr #sans #chara #x reader #scenario #romantic #angst #body horror #long post #mod mellow #queued post

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randominternetbosonignog785 · 3 years

Text

Mikans last Christmas.

So this story was something I was going to release on christmas but then i gave up on it, but then I diddnt, so here you go. Disclaimer its kinda gory n stuff has some naughty language and its a tad bit suggestive but its pretty pg bois.

Twas the night before christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Though there were no stockings by the walls, nor trees or presents to brighten up the halls, but instead were cupboards and draws blocking out the doors and half flipped scattered tables to shield a man that was barely keeping himself stable.

Every piece of furniture was stripped from their place, only to be used as blockades to keep out any new face. In normal circumstances many people would think the house was a tip but when it came to the biggest, most awful, most tragic event in human history, everyone had to get a grip.

Behind one of the half flipped tables near a cracked television, a large man wrinkled with age sat roughly on the floor with his rear resting against the desk's backside. The man had a slight beer belly, his scalp was just beginning to lose its hair and overall he just about had enough of life; what you'd expect from a fifty year old man who was down on his luck in the world, although ever since a certain wanker decided to ram a glass dagger into his right arm - ever since the world went tits up out of nowhere, his lucks been shit.

"Haaaarrgh...grrrrrr!"

The man gurgled and growled out his pain as he attempted to thrust a towel he found in one of his daughters med kits onto the red bleeding pool that flushed out of his arm. '

Apply with firm pressure? Even the fuckin manual's trying to kill me.' The squirming man thought to himself. Soon enough, he simply gave up and just decided to lie on the floor of his living room to try and get at least a wink of sleep, trying his best to ignore the niggling and nagging of the nerves in his wounded arm. It was hard finding the peace of sleep though, as the outside world he once knew had now become a hostile alien planet he might die in at any given moment and it didn't help that the air felt thicker than usual.

A few weeks.

It had only been a few weeks since he had his last pint, but now everybody started stabbing each other. It had only been a few weeks since he last relaxed watching his favorite shows on his favorite armchair, but now he was shivering on the floor, lacking the courage to go and sleep in his own bedroom. It had only been a few weeks since his worthless daughter had enrolled in some school for smart sods...

But now she was probably dead.

"Daddy?"

Almost feeling like a second after his conscience finally slipped into slumber, the rugged man abruptly snapped awake once more upon hearing a voice call out from the darkness, presumingly for him.

"Daddy? Are you still here?"

The female voice sounded so slender and savoury yet innocent and playful and it chilled the man to his bone. The man couldn't figure out how someone broke through his homemade barricade, but he couldn't feel surprised either, but it didn't matter now. He was now sharing his house with the one of many psychopaths that infested the outside world.

"Daaaddy~ where are you?"

'The sick fuck must be getting some sort of kink out of this' the man swore in his mind. Suddenly without warning, a heavy shower started to spew and spatter outside and somehow, the individual splats and taps managed to pierce through the man's ear drums, yet at this point the girl's calm yet threatening voice was able to drown out the rain itself.

That bitch was getting closer.

The man now knew he had no time left. He knew that it was do or die, he knew it was time to be a man. The voice sounded like it belonged to some kid, so why was he pissing his pants in his little time out corner? Finally, he remembered that he had one of his kitchen knives sitting around his used med kit and picked it up. He wasn't gonna let some little shit be the end of him.

"There you are daddy."

Before he could even start to gather his courage, that cold, icey siren of a voice was already singing next to him and a chilling warmth somehow caressed his ear. The man's heart skipped a beat. She was this close already.

He should have just skedaddled, the man should just have vamoosed but instead his bottom was eternally bound to the floor and all he did was instinctively turn around in complete despair. The man expected the intruder to stab his stomach or simply inject another piece of glass into his other arm, but instead, The very same second his heart refused to beat, his mouth was suddenly covered by some sort of thick tissue and then caused a sudden drowsiness to spread inside him. He felt weak. Before his very being fell into darkness he only caught a brief glimpse of his assassin's eyes, but it was enough information he had to know to effectively deduce who it was that had sealed his fate.

Out of anyone in the world that could have taken away his pointless life, it of course had to be his very own daughter. It was the same child he had neglected for so many years and if it was her out of all the other crazy fuckers ending his life; the man didn't seem to mind.

The man's muscles soon refused to twitch let alone break his fall as he plummeted, back first onto the floor. Despite the fact that his entire body was instantly shutting down though, somehow he managed to keep the dumbbells weighing upon his lids alift for a few seconds longer, just to try and see for certain if whoever stood above him really was who he thought and sure enough the thin girl that invaded his thoughts toward before the man.

Her straw-like hair was tangled and drowned in scalp snot and her usual nurse-like outfit was filthy and terribly torn. Her small speckless face though, in a way relieved the man with its familierality but at the same time horrified him with its grave difference in expression. The constant worry from her puppy-like eyes was gone, now replaced with an expression that the man couldn't possibly describe as happiness, but she was smiling; harder and more larger than she ever smiled before. 'Come to think of it', the man last thought, he had never seen his own daughter smile. He regretted that he had to think such a thought and he regretted how it came to this. He regretted everything and in his last moments of consciousness all the man could do was regret.

Why didn't he ever notice that he had such a beautiful daughter?

The saw sinks right into the leg bone~

The right arm tears off the elbow~

Apply firm pressure, don't leave the wounds open~

Don't forget to sterilise with cream~

"I did it daddy. Merry christmas."

After what seemed like an eternity, feeling as if at random, the man's eyelids finally decided to open, while at the same time his stomach felt as if it was still debating whether or not it wanted to burst open. He was on a bed and it felt impossible to get up. The man's sight invited him back to a blurry mess of a world, mangled with muddy pixels of blacks and greys that were meshed with a glowing orange that most likely represented light, and on top it all off, he was just about having the shittiest headache he ever had in his life. He wasn't dead at the very least, but dear god he might as well have been.

"Daddy, you're finally awake!"

Listening to that voice yet again...he now unmistakingly knew that it was his daughter who was talking.

"Mikan, what happened? What are you doing here?" The man's gritty growl of a voice, strained from obvious- stress finally uttered the name of his child. The pixelated colours that represented his proposed daughter were still mixed in with the blacks and greys of the room but slowly yet surely, he could already tell his sight was reorganising the world back together again.

"The outside world daddy." She purred. "It's scary out there. People who I thought were my friends started stabbing each other and some even started slicing off their hands and fingers and if it wasnt that they'd end up killing themselves. I was so scared."

She wasn't being serious. Given The context of her small speech, the man should have been able to feel some small amount of sorrow, but he felt none. All he could catch was the disguised yet painfully clear sarcasm in the girl's voice, which drained all the weight from her words.

"I came back home because I knew it would be safe."

That wasn't true, was it? She was back to kill him, just like the rest of me. It was the only thing that made sense; to get revenge on how he treated her. After thinking about it for a second though, the man probably deserved it.

"I saw you fainted on the floor when I found you daddy. So I took you to my room and took very special care of you."

Another obvious lie added to the man's paranoia and was beginning to feel iller by the second. What in God's name did mikan-

He couldn't move his right hand. No. He couldn't feel his right hand. In disbelief as well as desperation, the man worriedly wiggled every last limb that was still attached to his body, and where his lower left leg should have jolted...

Shit! He was drugged right? He must've been dreaming right? It was a dream. It had to be a dream! The meshy fog in the man's eyes finally felt like clearing and with all his inner strength he turned his head round to face his right arm; but all that was left was the arm and all that came out of its tip it was a small lump of thickly layered bandages, dyed in dry blood.

It was a fucked up dream. The man continued thinking. He couldn't feel the pain right? So it was just a fucked up dream, birthed from his newfound daily stresses. The pain from his old arm injury must have been giving him a horrific nightmare.

"It was hard patching you up when you were bleeding so heavily daddy." The bitch went on. "I had to give you a ton of painkillers and stuff to keep you from feeling the pain. I'm sorry. You must feel terrible right now. It's a good thing I saved you."

She was fucking insane. Painkillers? No- the only reason he couldn't feel the pain was because he was dreaming; This was just my mind's way of punishing him. There's no way he should still be alive like this.

"Good thing the ultimate nurse was here to save you daddy and don't worry I'll take care of you. I won't let you die like everyone else daddy. You're safe with me daddy."

"All you need now is me."

Fuck. Shit. fucking shit. This cant be fucking happning! How the hell did it come to this? The man couldn't curse enough. This was too fucked up to be a dream, but at the same time it was too fucked up to be real, but it just had to be fucking dreaming. Being drugged by his own daughter had to be a fucking dream. All of the last few weeks had to be a fucking dream. He had to believe it was. He had to for the sake of what small sanity he had left, and as if by reading his thoughts the monster smiled. Mavoilevent, vengeful and pure evil were the only words that spawned when the man's now mushy mind attempted to decipher such a grin. This was how he died: by the hands of his own fucking kid. Now accepting that, the man then realised that keeping himself aware of the living world was only going to make him fearful of the inevitable and so he let his heavy eyelids fall just so he could at least have the luxury of dying without knowing what hit him, but something out of place then uttered from Mikans small lips.

"So what do you want to do first?"

A question instead of a threat. Was it curiosity instead of bloodlust? Despite still hearing that wrongfully playful tone in his daughters still silk like voice, for whatever reason, the girl's strange question gave the man enough hair on his balls to open up his eyes to his assassin yet again. This time he was eye to eye with mikans face; her straw like hair gravitated towards him and her skin: crystal clear, causing what was left of her innocence to glow, while also horribly smudged with scars and bruises of the past, reminding the man of why he was here now. She was almost on top of him and only her slender arms held her above the man, acting as cemented pillars beside his neck. The man's response was delayed by the surprise of Mikan's random actions and all he could offer in exchange was a limp wimper of confusion.

Was she going to kill him or not?

Mikan then suddenly retreated from her pose and sat down at the end of the bed, avoiding squishing his leg. Well, the one that still had an end to it.

"Comon’ daddy, now we can play anything you want. Maybe you can try drawing on me, everyone always loved doing that back at school so you should give it a try!"

"What?" The man finally spat out.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted apologetically, while also completely out of place. "Maybe that's too weird for you. Do you want me to squeal like a pig again? You always loved doing that daddy. Roleplay was always your favorite."

Why? Why was she asking this? Did she develop a thing for fucking massicasisom while she was gone? He couldn't question everything enough, the man's mind just began to melt from stress and confusion. Despite the lingering silence the man couldn't help but create though, without any sign of permission Mikan settled onto the floor boards on all fours and simply started to squeal like a pig.

This was it. This was hell. This was God's heavenly punishment.

"@#$@%*!"

It was his fault she ended up like this. The man knew this now. Why did fate have to ram the fact down his throat?

"#$@%*^=!"

He fucking got it. He made his kid into a fucking physcopath. Big hoo-fuckin-ray! Just kill him for it already!

"Oink. €£#$@%*^=! oink oink."

But the universe thought death wasn't enough. Oh no, the sweet release of death was never enough to right this mans wrongs, experiencing the end of the world was never enough, being disected like a fucking frog was never enough. No.

"#$@%€¥₩! Oink."

He had to endure the desperate screams for attention. Take in the blood curdling cries for mere notice. He had to tolerate the broken girl's ungranted wishes for a better father.

"₩¥€*$%@! $$%£@!"

And he did...until he couldn't.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

She stopped squealing, but the animalistic screams still remained in the man's ears.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"...Daddy?" She mumbled, somehow sounding shocked at his response.

"Shut...up. please." The man begged. He couldn't take it any more.

"I'm sorry Daddy." The girl apologizes again. With her voice finally sounding more mellow than sadistic. "I forgot you liked to see me do that with all of my clothes off...give me a second."

At this point The man was truly bewildered how he raised such a sad creature.

"Mikan." The man once again called out the name of his child as his eyes began to leak. "Please, enough of this."

Mikan then climbed back onto the end of the bed and locked with my eyes; hers instantly succumbed with certain grief as if she feared those words from the start.

"Daddy I thought you liked playing with me."

I stared back into her eyes with an assertive glance. One way or another, she had to learn that tearing off people’s limbs was some fucked up shit and no way to get what she wanted. It was the only way of redeeming himself, yet not even several seconds passed before she couldn't bare the silent treatment.

"Don’t ignore me Daddy. Dont do that again, please dont ignore me! please forgive me. I know I cut off your arm and your leg but I only did that so you wouldnt leave me alone again, I only did that so we could play forever. I only did that for us Daddy, because I love you! And Daddy loves me."

....

"...right?"

The man did not deserve to admit he loved her back because now he realized that He never deserved love. Not from his daughter, not from his late wife, hell, not even from his own old folks. The man now realised that he was human shit and all he ever offered was a shitty stench to smell for everyone around him and now he had intoxicated Mikan with his vulgar stink. The least he could do now was to relive some of the fumes and stop his daughter from absorbing any more of his odour. All he had to do was ignore her and be lucky for the man: that was what he did best.

As if satan himself sent everything he had to crush every shred of the man's newfound resolve, an intense surge of pain he had never felt before, striked at the ends of the dismembered body parts the man had almost forgotten about. He already saw his arm freshly bitten off and his leg cut clean but his mind was only now reacting to his sights and now every ounce of thought he once carried was instantly drowned out by a powerful, primordial pain.

"Ahhh...ahhhhhggghha. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhh!" This time it was the man's turn to squeal like a pig. The entire world's suffering encapsulated in one single moment - all the man could do was vent all the pain out for all to hear.

"Daddy, Don't scream! Please...please stop screaming like that!"

Panic flourished in the depths of the girl's mind. The painkiller's effect wore off more quickly than she had originally calculated and it was only a matter of time before her dad died of the pain caused by his dismemberment. She knew she had to drug him back to sleep immediately and wait for his wounds to heal, but somehow, the few words that slithered out of the dying man's lips, kept her sat, frozen on the bed.

"Mikan...help me please."

Those few words changed everything.

Her legs were glued. Her heart beated faster and faster but her head paused and her sense of urgency plainly disappeared. The girl's body simply couldn't be bothered to move anymore. What was this feeling?

"Mi-kan....Mi-"

Daddy was dead.

The girl felt no grief. No regret, no remorse, not a trace of despair birthed from her mistake.

She just sat there.

The nonexistent glue still sews her short legs to the mattress of the bed. Her beating heart was still rapid, but her mind acted first.

That feeling was so close to euphoric. She might have been unusual but she always imagined the death of her only family would make her sad but she felt far from that. Then she knew why.

"Daddy...-I was the last person daddy was thinking about. I was the last person on Daddys mind."

All she wanted was attention, all she wanted was agnolegenent, all she wanted was to be loved. Her patients were always weak and broken but thanks to that they depended on her, they were grateful for her and they gave her all the attention she could ever ask for. Drugging daddy and immobilizing him was just a way to make him like one of her patients and if dismembering daddy was going to make him love her forever then that was what she should do. Instead though she ended up murdering him and now she was all alone again But still, that emotion remained. The fact that she was daddy's last thought accelerated her and the feeling of knowing that made her feel so relieved and somehow Mikan couldn't barely bring herself to regret what happened. Daddy was nothing but a corpse now, she knew that she had failed at being the so called 'ultimate nurse,' she knew she'd never see, touch or talk with her father ever again and yet the final begs and pleads for his life felt like more attention than he had ever decided to give to her.

"Daddy is dead." She sobbed. Lines of tears streamed down her skin.

"But I was his last thought. Daddy yearned for me. Daddy wanted me to save him." She giggled. She didn't know why but she went on giggling until the giggles evolved into laughter and eventually the seeds of her laughter bloomed into a savage song of sorry cackles. The conflicted emotions of depression and pleasure clashed in war inside Mikan's mind and the effects of their battle gushed out of Mikan in the form of chuckles and sobs. She didn't know what she should have felt anymore. Mikan had now truly lost her mind.

Warmth. Embrace. Love. It was all in a single moment. Her beloved.

"Jun-ko?"

"Shush now Mikan. It's okay."

Her beloved was here and for the first time in ages, Mikan felt cleansed. Her wobbling knelt legs gave way and tumbled down sideways like skyscrapers that crashed down onto the dovay, as the warmth from Junko's breasts aroused her. A Slender yet tender arm caressed the girl's hip and softly squeezed her core; while another gently stroked off the pieces of dandruff burrowed within her straw like hair, giving Mikan an inviting fuzzy feeling inside. It was pure love. If only the world could let her stay like this forever.

"Junko..." Mikan began to vent. "Your plan didn't work. D-daddy just decided to ignore me in the end." She went on. "A-and when he died he said my name, he begged me to save him and then I-I had this strange feeling."

Junko's voice then hummed in Mikan's ear. Her boiling breath was gentle and warm and just like the sun in a snowstorm, it melted every little bit of Mikans of well earnt fatigue.

"What kind of feeling was it?"

"It was a pleasure. I-I felt good. I even felt happy, even though he's dead now..."

Before a seed of panic could begin to spread in Mikan's soul, the slight sound of Junko's voice once again quelled any flames of anxiety lit within her and the words that were delivered with that voice, finally Settled the mental storm brewing within Mikan.

"You're just like me Mikan."

That was it. She was just like her beloved. It made so much sense now and with that everything was right again. Suddenly the frail girl broke free of the others hug just to turn around and dive into the cushiony breasts of her beloved and just like that she let it all out.

"Merry Christmas my little Mikan." Junko made one last whisper.

"Now get on the floor. I wanna hear you squeal like a pig again. Dont forget to strip down nude this time you little shit."

"Of course." Mikan faintly mutterd and soon did. She diddnt like it, but if it was what her beloved wanted hee to do. If it made hee beloved happy, then she was more than willing to do anything for her.

***

Hajime.

A skinny girl, dressed in a smart yet tattered nursing uniform stood anxiously outside a holiday cabin. This girl was no ordinary girl though as in the last few hours she had mercilessly murdered two of her own classmates. The girl felt no grief, no regret, nor remorse as she felt nothing but joy when being the last reflection of someone's eye before it was darkened forever. Ibuki and Hyoko were really nice friends and they just had to be her next victims to help relieve herself, as well as in helping along Junoko's killing game but for some reason, instead of covering up her tracks, her instincts brought her here. To her neighbor's beach cabin who was coincidentally investigating her crime.

It was a dumb move in the persective of a killer to randomly show themselves up to the detective but to Mikan; it was something she had to do. As expected, the door was open and just by opening the door the girl could see the boy she was looking for completely conked out on his bed. Being the ultimate nurse she could instantly tell that hajime was sleeping on the investigation due to obvious stress but despite that she couldn't help herself and without a second thought the girl dug under the boys covers and gently squeezed the slumbering life saviour to her core. Just like last time in the hospital, her hunch was correct. Hajime was just as warm, soft and comforting as her beloved.

She held the boy tight and as the emotions that came with the memories of her last Christmas came back to haunt her, she held tighter and tighter. The raging battle inside her soul was back. The truce of those emotions was not going to last forever. The fight between love and pleasure. What was more important to her? Seeing her friends free themselves from her beloved's killing game and live out the rest of their lives together? Or was it making sure that she was the last face, the last person, the last thought everyone would have minds before they finally die and witnessing all their anguish and hatred for herself? The attention she always craved was so close in her reach but the accursed emotion of guilt she thought she had repealed long ago was getting in the way again.

She then came to an ultimatum And whispered in hajimes ear

"Hajime. I did it."

...

He was still asleep.

With her internal struggle more or less settled, the girl squeezed the boy one last time and slept peacefully beside her second yet brief love.

Art credit:

Picture made by 'lil Mikan.' https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/1118770/manga

#danganronpa #fanfic

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hauntedbubblewriter · 4 years

Text

Lost in Hope Chapter 2

Summary: San fell in love but can't help the petals on the floor

Pairing: Choi San x Original Female Character

Words: 4,240

Genre: Angst

Chapter: 2/4

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Next Chapter: coming soon...

Walls of a hospital are never something nice. It’s rare for someone to take positive memories with them when leaving a hospital. It is a place of just pain and injuries. The smell of disinfectant, the generic pictures hanging in every room, the tasteless food. The worst part of it is that it can be a place of death and loss. So many people come into a hospital with not a single worry in mind. A simple surgery which has been done thousands of times before, with thousands of people coming out the other end being cured, living a happy life afterwards. Not as lucky as these thousands are the hundreds that would see the ceiling of the hospital’s building as the last thing in their life. Those that would hear the words of reassurement of the nurse, saying "Let‘s see each other after the surgery", as the last words in their life. It is a scary place to be, no question. So no matter when or why you wake up there, it’s understandable to wake up in panic.

So that was exactly what San did. He may not have exactly been scared of dying that moment, but more of what was happening to him. He woke up with a weird feeling of dizziness. He forgot what had happened during the last couple of hours, he just found himself in that scarily sterile room. After waking up, he felt an uncomfortable itch on his hand, and as soon as his vision began to clear up, he saw that the source of it was the IV connected to his hand. With every drop there was an unknown substance invading his body. He wasn’t thinking clearly when he jolted up, following his first instinct to get out. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want to have needle in his hand, he just wanted to get home. He ripped the needle out of his hand, slipping out of him smoothly, and its unknown contents dropped onto the floor, soon followed by the blood dripping out of his hand. It was like his brain was in hyper-focused. He could hear every single drop of the infusion hit the floor, as if it wanted to remind him that it’s there and still inside of him. His whole body felt like it wasn’t his, like it was being controlled by something that’s not him, and he could only watch and stare at what was happening. His actions were delayed while his mind was working in overdrive, so he just sat there staring at his hand, trying to make sense of what was happening to him, until he began to feel the uncomfortable sting in his hand. Slowly the pain brought him back to reality.

Of course he wasn’t alone in the room. His mother was waiting in here with him. She had received a call while she was at work, informing her that her son had been brought to the hospital, resulting in her rushing over to him as quickly as possible. She also informed his sister of what had happened, and she was also on her way, taking their father with her. She couldn’t even react properly as San had already ripped the needle out of himself. "Baby, what are you doing?" She stood up, pure horror written on her face before she began to collect herself. She did the only thing she could reasonably do in this situation, calling the nurse and pressing a towel onto his bleeding hand. She looked at her son like he was a stranger, with sadness and worry filling her eyes. She just couldn’t understand how she hadn’t seen this earlier. How could she just not have noticed how much her son was actually suffering? San’s heart filled up with regret looking at her scared eyes. He could only apologize quietly as he slowly began to realize where he was and what had brought him here. They weren‘t able to continue their conversation as they were interrupted by the remaining petals pushing their way back up San‘s throat, reminding him again what his reason for being here is. At the same time, the nurses came rushing in. They told his mom to stay back, and she followed their words. She watched how the nurses were rushing all around San, giving him something he could throw up into while they bandaged his hand. She couldn‘t help but think that he just looked so broken. He looked so broken with the way his make-up had been washed away by his own sweat, revealing his dry skin and the dark circles under his eyes. She couldn’t help but think its her fault. She should have paid more attention to him. Of course, he became more quiet with time, but she just told herself that that‘s what teenagers do sometimes. That‘s what her friends had told her as well. "Just let him learn on his own", "He's a child, he won’t talk to you". Those words were all just excuses for her bad parenting.

When the nurses rushed to San’s sides, he felt another explosive wave of panic in his chest, and once again his body was stunned as he watched them fumbling around him, their actions barely even recognizable to him, their words all slurred. Soon, someone who seemed to be the doctor in charge approached him. "Choi San, right? I am your doctor. There is no need to be scared, alright? We’re here to help you". You could tell he was used to patients like him. For San, he was a point to focus on, trying to follow his words, nodding along dumbly to signalize that he was somewhat accountable. "You gave us a really good scare there, Mr Choi. We saw you’ve been suffering from the Hanahaki disease for a quite while. It strained your body to the point of fainting at school, which is why you’re here now. The injection you have ripped out was there to provide your body with water and to help you stabilize. Would it be okay for you to answer some questions for me?" Something in San calmed down when he was told about the contents of the injection, yet he somehow still couldn’t relax. He followed what the doctor had explained, but there was still this uncomfortable feeling inside of him. He still agreed to answer the doctor’s questions. He didn’t take notice of his mother being brought outside to talk with the nurses in the meantime.

He didn’t feel like any of the questions were weird. They were mostly directed at finding out about his well-being, wanting to know for how long he has been throwing up these flowers, if he was taking any medication, and more. He still felt too unsure to answer them truthfully, he was way too scared of them wanting to take this away from him, so instead of saying how he has been struggling with these petals for a year, he simply said he didn’t really remember, maybe for a few months. No matter what, he tried to make sure the doctor understood he didn‘t want them to disappear, and then there it was again. The look of pity. Exactly the same look the pharmacy lady gave him every time. Although the doctor understood, he still laid out his options if he were to change his decision. He explained to him how his body wouldn’t survive this forever, he stressed that the flower would continue to grow up to his lungs and how he would end up suffocating one day if he didn’t do anything against it. No one could force him to undergo the surgery or to take the medication the doctor would give him, but if he were to faint again and even start suffocating, they would be focusing on his survival. No one wants to let it get to that point, but if that were to happen, an emergency surgery would be performed. Of course San said how that wouldn’t happen, how he got this under control, such a surgery wouldn’t need to be done. He argued that this wouldn’t happen again, but the doctor just continued looking at him with pity, proceeding to pull out an X-ray image. "We screened you while you were unconscious. The flower is very visible in here, and it shows how it already takes up way too much space in your stomach. There is barely any space for food and water left, and even more severe of a problem is that it is already blooming its way up to your lungs. If it doesn’t get any smaller soon, there’s a high chance of you suffocating in the next couple of weeks, Mr Choi. I can’t force you, but whoever that crush of yours may be, please make sure to reconsider if dying for them is really worth it". With these words, the doctor had left. He left behind the medication and the X-ray image. San couldn’t do anything but stare at it. It was funny to finally be able to see what has been torturing him for a whole year. He couldn’t help but think it was hilarious how something so pretty would grow inside of him and make him suffer like this. It was stupid. It was unfair, but he didn’t feel sad. He didn’t feel angry. He just felt numb. All he could feel was self-pity as thoughts of Serin flooded his mind again. Was she okay? Did she see what had happened to him? Before he could continue to follow that train of thought, his mom entered the room again. He instinctively hid the X-ray in the little nightstand next to him. This time, his mom was followed by his sister and his dad. Haneul didn’t stay beside their parents for long. She just ran up to him, hugging him so tightly that San thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe for a second, and soon afterwards, he could feel the arms of his mother and father around him as well. He didn’t even notice the tears that started to run down his cheek. He didn’t know how badly he needed this. He didn’t know he needed one single hug so badly, and he just broke down. His vision got blurry, and the only noises coming out of him were caged whines and heavy attempts of catching air. His noises were answered by soft whispers, reassuringly stating "We are here", but also followed by "Why are you doing this?", and frankly, he couldn’t answer that question. He himself knew why he did this. It was obvious. He had been contemplating this for so long that he knew why, but he didn’t want to tell them.

The doctor had transferred him to a new room, including a roommate he had to share the space with. He had reassured San that they just wanted to look over him for the night, and that it was no problem because his roommate was scheduled to have a surgery today, so he would be on his own for the majority of the time. It’s been hours since his family had left to go get him some fresh clothes, but he had he told them to just leave anyway. He wanted some time to himself to think about all of this. Now it was just him and his temporary roommate in the room. The other male was a slender boy with messy, black hair. His name was Seonghwa, and he suffered from the same disease as him, the only difference being that he had decided to undergo the surgery. They had been casually chatting for a while, but San couldn’t help himself and asked why or just how he managed to make such a big decision. Seonghwa predicted that he would ask that. "It’s quite funny if you think about it. I don’t want to miss this feeling, and it’s not like I wouldn’t be able to take the pain that comes with these petals, but the guy I like... I thought it won‘t be fair to him. He has a girlfriend, you know? And everytime I see them together, it just hurts, and I can’t help but get mad at her just for being the person that I want to be. But one day, I stopped looking at her, and instead took a look at him. I saw how happy he was, the spark of joy in his eyes, and I realized that if he ever found out about how much I suffer just because he is happy... What would he be supposed to do? He’s not an asshole. He would suffer, because of me, you know? Thats why I decided to remove it. So that he would be able to simply enjoy his happiness, and... Well, I can’t deny that it feels like I’m removing my only world, but I know, afterwards, I will find someone. I will find someone who looks at me like I’m their whole universe, and when that time comes... I want to be ready to just look back at them the same way".

San had never even considered such a point of view. He had never considered how Serin would feel if she were to find out about how he felt. He always told himself he was doing this for her, but now? Now he just felt selfish. Selfish for holding onto a feeling that was not meant to be. "That‘s really beautiful... I hope you‘ll be able to find that person", and then he saw him smile. His smile looked so sad and pitiful, but at the same time, it was full of hope. "I hope you can find the right path for you, San". Those were Seonghwa’s last words for him before the nurses came in and told him that all preparations for the surgery had been finished. San said his goodbye and wished him good luck, and Seonghwa just told him that he would see him later.

And with that, he was finally alone to think. So much had happened in such a short time span, and he didn’t know what to make out of it. He took the X-ray back out, taking a look at what was going on inside of him. But before he was able to get into another train of thought, the door opened again. He thought it would just be another nurse coming in, but then he saw Wooyoung and Yeosang standing in the doorframe, staring at him. He smiled upon seeing the two, but he couldn’t help the guilt he felt in the back of his mind, just feeling sorry for making all the people he cared about worry so much. Wooyoung and Yeosang didn’t stay in the doorframe for long, instead making their way over to him and hugging him. "Why didn’t you tell us anything?", Wooyoung complained, holding him close as if his life depended on it. Just having them hug him made him cry again, but he tried his best to keep his composure. Yeosang stayed quiet, just hugging the both of them and leaning his forehead against Sanie‘s, and his action spoke more than any words ever could. The two of them stayed like that for a while. Wooyoung took up the space that was left on the bed, carefully patting the top of San’s head in worry, just to assure him he is there. Yeosang decided to sit down on the end of the bed. Of course they asked who his crush was, but he just told them he didn’t want to talk about it. So instead, they started to suggest the names of different people they could think of. He denied every single one of them, even when Serin’s name fell from Yeosang‘s lips. He tried his best to react normally, and it seemed like they didn’t pick up on it. Wooyoung started to whine, begging for him to tell them, saying how they‘re his best friends and how they just wanted to help, but after an hour they had to go home again. That was when Serin entered the room.

She had been there for a while, but she had heard Wooyoung talking from outside of the room, so she didn’t want to interrupt them. Instead, she just stayed outside for half an hour, waiting until they left. As she entered the room, there was this quiet atmosphere. San didn’t even notice she was there, as she walked in through the same open door which Wooyoung and Yeosang had left through. He was staring out the window, so Serin just stood in front of the door for what felt like hours. She just didn’t really know what to say. So after silently thinking about it in her head, she simply went with the classic "Hey". It was enough to make San turn his head, registering her presence. He was speechless for multiple seconds before the panic sector in his brain pushed out a quick response, also telling him to not be obvious. "Don’t be obvious, dont make her suffer". Seonghwa’s words repeated in his head when he saw her. "He would suffer, because of me". She would suffer because of my stubborn and selfish decision to keep holding on. "I‘m sorry for what happened before... I must have scared you". He didn’t really think of the fact that his voice sounded raspy because of the constant stress put on his throat, but for Serin, it was the first time she had heard the actual condition of his real voice. It was the first time she saw the condition he was really in, and she felt so weird thinking about all the steps he had to take to really hide how he was feeling. "Why are you apologizing? I’m sorry you thought you had to hide how you felt", and that sentence made San’s mind panic more than it had ever panicked before. Did she find out? Of course she did, he was so goddamn obvious, coming over to her every damn break. It was a miracle she hadn’t found out earlier. "You shouldn’t apologize either, it’s not your fault. I just feel guilty for making all of you worry". She came closer, sitting down on the chair next to his bed.

She didn’t really know what to do. After all, she wasn’t really good at expressing feelings or just taking care of people, so she just did what felt right. She carefully took his hand in hers, and it took her all her composure to look into his eyes. "Don’t ever worry about making other people worry. I want to know if something is making you suffer. You can tell me everything. We are friends, San, and I care about you. I want to know whenever something is bothering you". Even just the sincerity in her voice made his little heart crack. She looked at him with so much worry in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty that her eyes looked so sad, just because of him. He didn’t even notice a new set of tears rolling down his cheeks, only noticing when he saw her eyes shift from worry to suprise. "I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry. Did I say something weird?" She pulled her hand away in panic and San was brought back into reality, apologizing while wiping his tears away quickly. "I‘m sorry, God, I’m such a crybaby. That was really kind of you, don’t apologize. I was just taken aback". With that, she had relaxed a bit, understanding a little more why he had reacted that way, but she still couldn’t help her heart hurting when looking at a crying San. She didn’t like seeing him sad, she didn’t like it one bit. It hurt to see him in pain. It hurt to see him cry. She wanted the happy San back, the San that made stupid jokes about her food, or made casual conversations about whatever he thought to be relevant in the moment, but even with these thoughts, she wanted to be there when he was in pain.

She didn’t want him to think he had to hide anything. She wanted him to be able to freely express himself instead, so that he wouldn’t have to feel alone in painful situations, because she knew that was the worst part about hiding your pain. The terrible feeling of loneliness. No one should ever have to suffer like that. "I don’t know if it makes you uncomfortable, but I know about your disease. You know, the petals and all... You probably wanted to hide it, but you really don’t have to. And if the person you love doesn’t love you back, it‘s just not worth it, okay? I know it sounds harsh, but you are more important, San". San was taken aback by her words. It just felt so sick that out of all people, she was the one to tell him that, unknowingly calling herself not worth it. So maybe she hadn‘t actually found out it was her, or else that would have been extremely weird, but he wanted to tell her she was wrong. He wanted to come out of hiding and just tell her how she was worth any pain. He didn’t need anyone‘s pity. He was sick of everyone looking at him with pitiful eyes. Why was no one able to understand what a beautiful feeling it is to be in love? It was sick to be tormented for such a beautiful emotion, but that didn‘t mean the feeling was wrong, but the world they lived in. This world was just unfair and gruesome to its core. He hated it, but he couldn’t change it, and yet he wanted to be the person to show the world how wrong it was. He wanter to be the person to find happiness, and just with that he would already prove them all wrong. So that was what he would do. He smiled at her. "I know my worth". He found it hard to find the right words to showcase what he meant. "It means a lot to me how much you care. I really can’t explain how much it just means to me to see you here, and to see just how much you care about me. I can’t tell you how thankful I am. I am so thankful that you want to help me, but I don’t think that’s the way I want to go. I know it’s stubborn. It’s selfish. And even though it seems to be so destructive, at the same time... That person makes me happier than anyone else ever did. I know those petals are supposed to tell me to give up, but why does it feel so good then? Why do I look at her and it just makes me feel like I‘m safe? No matter if my body likes it or not, I know that I’m doing the right thing, even if the world tells me it’s wrong". And with that, for the first time in months, he was smilling so brightly that the sun could be jealous, because he finally understood what he wanted. He was finally at peace with himself, now it was just a matter of if Serin understood.

"I see, that‘s a really brave way to look at it..." She really was taken aback by the happiness in his eyes, and she couldn’t just tell him that what he was doing was wrong, that it was killing him, why wasn‘t he seeing that? He had such a beautiful and hopeful worldview, but she could only see how his body was dying, so she wouldn’t let him push her away. "If you don’t want to move on, then I’ll help you to be healthy again". Serin really wasn’t the person to force herself onto anyone, and she didn’t know where this determination came from, but she wanted to make sure he would be fine. She wrote down her number on a scrap of paper laying around. "Text me if you want to take me up on the offer. I mean, I can’t force you", and with these words, she had left as well.

The rest of the day, San was contemplating what her words had meant. She just didn’t make sense to him, he just didn’t understand. He had saved her number and was now looking at her profile picture. She didn’t have herself in the picture, but a really pretty picture of the sunset. The sky was colored in a beautiful red, at the bottom of it were the last rays of sunlight lighting up the sky with the rest of its strength. It had something really cute for her to choose that as a profile picture. Did she take that picture herself or had she found it on the internet? Maybe a friend or a family member had taken it, and she just decided it shouldnbe the first thing people would see after saving her up. And now, just as the sun decided to leave, he stared at the setting sun, truly paying attention to it for the first time as the sky painted itself in red just like it did in her picture, and he just smile, enjoying the shift from day to night, and slowly drifting off to sleep along with it.

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