forbiddenwords

[forbiddenwords]

Stranded (Chapter 5)

Written By: TheHeathenSlave Rating: Mature for plane crash, injury, survival, desert island, stranded, drug usage, drinking, alcohol, awkward flirting, voyeurism, watersports, fetish, sexual tension, extreme illness, graphic, puss, wound cleaning, surgery, vomiting, oral sex, fluff, angst, romance, drug usage, assault, near death, happy ending.  Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Hours Era But Modern Day)

She never thought that a trans Atlantic flight could end in perfect paradise with David Bowie. Well…almost perfect paradise.

Previous Chapters.

When she woke up, she was still naked so it wasn’t an issue to get out of the tent and go pee. She didn’t go as far from the tent as she actually could because she figured David was asleep, or he wouldn’t care. She didn’t know. After that, she grabbed some soap and shampoo from the supply they had found and went to the water. It was warmer than she expected it to be for that early time of day. Refreshing too. It probably wasn’t the best idea to use soap in the ocean, considering the chemicals, but she wasn’t going to walk around dirty and smelly all day. It took a while to wash her hair since it was so long but she felt so much better after doing it. Coming out of the water she saw David. The hand with the wrap had also been covered with a plastic bag she’d found to keep it from getting wet. Mostly. It was damp around the edges but it wouldn’t fall apart and it wouldn’t need to be wrapped again. He was naked too, didn’t seem he cared much about it. She certainly wasn’t going to complain. He had a very nice body.

“Morning.” She said to him and pulled the bag off of her arm. “Should I try to find some sort of breakfast before heading out to explore?” She asked him.

“Sounds good.” He said and took the soap from her.

“Be careful of your side…wait…” She stopped him and leaned in to look at it. The swelling wasn’t getting any better. “You will take those antibiotics right? I mean when we eat? They may upset your stomach and-”

“I’ve been on plenty of antibiotics in my life I know how this works. I’ll be fine.” He said then kissed the side of her head. She gave him a look but walked back onto the beach. After drying off a bit, she found some cleaner clothes that had dried and would somewhat fit her and pulled them on. She didn’t mind staying naked but they didn’t find sunscreen in any of the bags. There was some bug spray, which who knew if that would work on the freaky tropical insects here but it was worth a try. The clothing would protect most of her from the sun and the bugs. Especially if she was going to go in the area with the most habitation. She wasn’t sure how she was going to convince him to stay there. He needed to rest with that gash in his side. Walking around and risking hurting himself further would not be a good idea.

Once she was covered up she found a brush. She brushed out her hair and braided it, using a rubber band to keep it together at the bottom. It was the best she could do since her clip had fallen apart on her and there seemed to be a lot of ordinary rubber bands hanging around in their stuff. They weren’t hairties but as long as she used them while her hair was still damp nothing was going to get caught or too damaged. She found another can of soup but that was it. There were a few containers of instant noodles that hadn’t been ruined but that would require fresh water having been boiled. Because of this she got out some packs of beef jerky. They could share the soup and that, it would give them energy and at least help him heal a bit.

He didn’t take nearly as long as her to get clean and was back just as she was trying to figure out how to get the can open with a knife. Something she would have been fine doing should she have two hands. She looked at him pathetically and he smiled then took the can and the knife and opened it for her. She put it on the rock that she was heating and held out the jerky too. Which he opened and took out a piece. He started to look through the clothes as he chewed and she watched him. He still hadn’t said anything about his side hurting even though she could tell with his limited movement he had to be in a lot of pain. She went to the narcotics stash and got out one of them. She also got two of the antibiotics as she had prescribed and brought them over to him just as he was pulling on a T-shirt. The Aladdin Sane one she had found but not told him about.

“Uh…”

“I know what’s on it, I wanted to fuck with you.” He said, “Does it look good?” She laughed and nodded her head.

“Yes but you look better now than you did then. No offense.”

“None taken because I agree.” He took the pills and swallowed them one by one then pulled on some shorts. They absolutely did not match the shirt because they were neon pink. Only David Bowie would be able to find the weirdest stuff to wear on a deserted island.

“You are an interesting man.” She said.

“What?” He asked and sat by the fire.

“Those are…not shorts for a man.” She told him and sat down too. She checked the soup. It was warm enough so she quickly moved it to the sand so the can could cool to a point where they could touch it and it could be consumed.

“And?”

“I just thought that part of your life was over.” She shrugged.

“I don’t give a damn they are comfortable.” He said, “You’re wearing a shirt for a man you just…tied it to cover your tits.”

“Okay I get your point.”

“Good.” He grinned and looked back into the brush covered area. “So for the record you didn’t care that I saw you take a piss this morning.” She blushed and looked away from him.

“You implied you were into that yesterday.”

“Maybe I am.” He said still being cryptic about it. Part of her, the psychiatrist part which dealt with sexual behavior (since she worked in sex crimes) understood the psychology of the voyeurism fetish. She’d never exactly seen the appeal in her own brain, until now. Something about the way he spoke, maybe how casual he was, she didn’t know. She tested the can again and it had cooled off. Luckily the metal wasn’t thick so it didn’t take long to heat nor did it take long to cool.

“Maybe I want to watch you next time.” She said finally.

“Hell you can hold my cock for me.” He laughed.

“You think I’m your slave?” She laughed back.

“You would be if I asked you to.” He purred in a seductive voice. She looked down again and said nothing taking a sip of her soup. He was right about that and it pissed her off as much as it excited her.

“Well, let me be your slave and go exploring in those woods for you.” She said, “You stay here and rest.”

“But I-”

“I also know what antibiotics do to your stomach and…well, do you want me around for that?” She asked him.

“Everyone poops you know.”

“Not everyone wants to be around for it.” She said and handed over the soup.

“I guess that’s true…never saw the appeal in watching that myself, but I know it’s a thing. Right?”

“Why are you asking me?” She laughed.

“You seem to know a lot of things. What branch of the FBI do you work in anyway?”

“Uh…”

“Come on now, you’ll talk to me about everything else but not that? Is it classified? The X-Files? Something like…oh you know that Twin Peaks show?” He asked and took a few mouthfuls of the soup. She sighed, of course she didn’t want to tell him now, it was embarrassing now. Maybe earlier it wouldn’t have been. She drew some circles in the sand for a moment and looked back at him.

“Sex crimes.”

“Oh really?”

“Look it’s not nearly as sexy as you think it is.” She warned.

“No that’s not what I was thinking. Of course the actual crime aspect has got to be horrid. I can’t even imagine how you still get horny, however you said you are a psychiatrist and then you tell me you work in sex crimes, which means that any kink I could possibly have isn’t going to shock you, is it?” He asked. She felt her face flush and she tried to blame it on the sun, not on the fact she was getting aroused by him. Most men never reached that conclusion. In fact, a lot of men she dated only wanted to hear about the crime part because they found it interesting, like some sort of TV show. The other people she dated well they just couldn’t look at her the same after they found out because all they could think of was the crime part. It was rare for her to meet anyone who didn’t care or, well, thought like he did. In fact, she was pretty sure he was the first person, man or woman, to instantly draw that conclusion over these bits of information.

“No you really couldn’t shock me. Even if I’m not into something–”

“That’s why you are so casual about the whole voyeurism piss play thing isn’t it?”He asked, “You aren’t even into it, or at least you didn’t think you were. Not until now, but you were okay with it because you understand the psychology behind it, don’t you?”

“That’s true, yes.”

“You aren’t opposed to it either, are you?”

“I guess not, there are worse thing that–”

“I think you are going to learn a lot about yourself on this island.” He grinned and held the soup back out to her. She took it and drank a few more gulps then held it back out to him and stood up. She found a bag to pack with some water, a few snacks, and a small first aid kit. She was also going to pack some of the fishing gear just in case she found a fresh water place to fish. If not, then she would attempt to do it in the ocean but that was going to be much harder.

“I think you are going to be surprised about what I already know and what I am into and you may learn a lot about me.” She said as she packed. He watched her and she could tell he was mostly looking at her ass when she bent over. The jeans she had chosen were a bit too tight but they still fit fine enough to walk around in. All she had in way of shoes that would fit her comfortable were some sandals she found so she was going to have to be very careful about walking around out there.

“I think I can read you pretty well so far, or would I be wrong to say that?”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She said, “Maybe you should have been a profiler.”

“Maybe you should have been a singer.”

“You hit your head remember?”

“Yes but I’m David Bowie I could convince people that hitting a cat with a violin was music.” He laughed and finished the soup. She laughed a bit too hard at that, because it hit her in just the right way. He wasn’t even wrong that’s why it was so funny and it was something she could see him doing, sort of. Not actually beating a real cat but putting together sounds and other things that mimicked that effect and writing a song to it. “What?”

“It’s funny because it’s relatively true.” She said, “Now, I’m going to head off and you are only allowed to come look for me if I am not back by sunset. Okay?”

“Fine, mum.”

“Good.” She said. Once the stuff was gathered she headed off, she was going to miss him not coming along but what was best for him now was rest. Hopefully, within a few days, there would be some sort of search team and that would be the end of that. She was getting just a bit nervous that he was going to get sepsis before they could be found and she wouldn’t be able to ever treat that even with the half of a bottle of antibiotics that she had.

She walked for what she calculated was about a mile and going north according to the sun. The last thing she wanted to do was get lost. Every few yards she would make a mark on a tree with the knife she had brought to help find her way back if just going south completely failed. About an hour into this hike she definitely heard running water. It had to be a waterfall. This renewed her energy a bit and she hurried towards it, still remembering to mark her way as she did. She wasn’t disappointed when she eventually came to a clearing and saw a large waterfall. Running water. Well, moving water. It was going to be fresh too. Something that could be collected and boiled and she wouldn’t have to remember how to do the whole thing with boiling saltwater to consume it.

She rushed over to the pond area and saw fish in the water which was far more clear than she had expected it to be. This was good too, it meant it was more clean. Not that they could or should drink it as it was but after boiling it wouldn’t taste gritty or like soil. She sat by the side of the pond and splashed some of the water on her face. It was damn hot out there, she hoped David was okay where he was without her. She smiled and moved more towards the cliff where there was shade and leaned up against it to rest. Her eyes closed. She heard chimes. Just for a moment. Her eyes opened. That wasn’t right, was it?

Her hand moved to her forehead to see if she could possibly have a fever, any signs of heat stroke that would also cause her to hallucinate. No, didn’t seem to be the case. The noise had stopped though. She started to relax again but there was a breeze. There were the chimes. Those were wind chimes if she ever damn heard them. Nothing in nature made that noise. Not unless it was put there by man. She stood up but the breeze had stopped. Damn. She waited, and waited, the breeze blew again. She heard them and moved towards the noise.

This was a very long process. It took her a few more hours. Every few yards still marking trees because now she wasn’t going in a straight line, now she was trying to find the source of the noise. It was maddening. As it turned out, she was eventually led to the remains of a stone path. It was very worn and mostly covered with vines and plant life but as she followed it, it got more and more obviously a path and less and less part of the jungle. When she actually found the source of the noise it was bittersweet. The house was run down enough that it was obvious there was no human there. At least not living. There was a possibility she’d find a body in there, which made it good that she had found it alone. The house also seemed self sustaining. As in, it had to have been built because whoever wanted it out there wanted to have privacy. There were wind generators, though vines had grown over them so badly that they weren’t doing much to generate a damn thing. She moved and cut them away quickly hoping to get them going to build up power because she could see light bulbs, the problem was that it didn’t mean they worked. However, there were electronics in the bags with chargers, some of them would surely still work if they could get power to them. Maybe a phone or something to actually call for help. Once she had done that, she headed inside.

“Hello?” She called. Which was kind of stupid, but on the off chance there was a person in there she didn’t want to startle them or get shot or something. The place was in a bit of disarray. A layer of dust covered everything and if it wasn’t that, it was moss. Not too bad though. It was mostly clean. She checked every room, not that there were many, and found no sign of life anywhere. Nothing that indicated that anyone had been there in a decade or two, including the stuff in the kitchen. She went through a bunch of the cans left there, potentially some of it could be good, but it would be risky. The expiration dates were all from the 80’s and that was over 20 years ago now. Well, so what? There was a pond not too far with fish and something resembling running water. She’d have to check and see if the wind generators might power a pipe system or something. It wasn’t working now, but there were faucets in there, a bathroom, a shower and a tub and even a toilet, which thankfully was mostly clean and not backed up with shit or whatever.

The ‘backyard’ though over grown was also clear. There was a grill back there. Rusted. Could possibly be cleaned. God, this was going to save their lives for the time period that they had to be there. The one bedroom had a large bed and was stable it could support weight. She just wasn’t entirely sure she was okay with using a mattress that had been used by lord only knew who and had god only knew what on it. Whatever she could figure that out later. She started to quickly head back towards the beach camp so she could inform David. It wasn’t too far back, now that she actually knew where it was. They could have all of their stuff moved out there by sunset and stop to pick some fruits on the way. Maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad there after all, as long as David could power his way through that infection if help didn’t arrive in time.

  Next Chapters.

[forbiddenwords]

Stranded (Chapter 4)

Written By: TheHeathenSlave Rating: Mature for plane crash, injury, survival, desert island, stranded, drug usage, drinking, alcohol, awkward flirting, voyeurism, watersports, fetish, sexual tension, extreme illness, graphic, puss, wound cleaning, surgery, vomiting, oral sex, fluff, angst, romance, drug usage, assault, near death, happy ending.  Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Hours Era But Modern Day)

She never thought that a trans Atlantic flight could end in perfect paradise with David Bowie. Well…almost perfect paradise.

Previous Chapters.

Leila had finished drying out the blankets. It took a long time. Luckily, airplane blankets were never huge to begin with, nor were they thick. There were also only six of them. It took a lot of finesse. She had to stand there holding them above the fire enough that the heat was actually doing something but far enough away that the fibers didn’t singe or burn, or catch on fire. It was a delicate balancing act but at least it passed the time. There wasn’t much to do here other than survive. As much time as that did take up, it was also boring when their lives weren’t in direct danger. It was getting too late to go out and safely explore. She was also exhausted and she would never make it back before the sun set. May end up passing out in the forest or jungle or whatever one wanted to call it. So, here she stood, drying out blankets.

“What’s your favorite song?” David called from inside of the tent. By her estimation about an hour had passed. She didn’t think her watch was working right any longer even if she was still wearing it for some reason. She looked at the tent.

“My favorite song or my favorite song by you?” She called back and then chuckled. She didn’t know if he was going to sing for her or just making conversation so she wasn’t sure what he was asking for or why.

“Doesn’t matter I suppose, I run equal chance forgetting my own lyrics as much as I do some other song.” He replied. There was some rustling in the tent and then the front of it unzipped and he poked his head out. A moment later he was out there sitting in the sand by the fire still trying to pretend that his side didn’t hurt.

“You probably won’t like any of my answers.” She told him, “And I don’t know all the lyrics to all of your songs either just my favorites so if you did mess up I could either correct you or I wouldn’t know.”

“Get on with it then.”

“Well I don’t really have an all time favorite song. Kind of have a favorite song of the current moment then it changes, you know?” She asked. Since the tent was open now she tossed in the dried blankets so she wouldn’t risk them getting all sandy. Then she sat down by him. She opened the suitcase that had all the little bottle of booze in them and took one out.

“Makes sense, I’d get bored of the same music over and over myself.”

“You don’t say.” She chuckled and opened the bottle.

“Very funny, why are you stalling?”

“Okay because my all time favorite musician isn’t you it’s Bon Jovi.” She told him and took a long drink. He laughed loudly and then whined as it hurt his side. “Serves you right.”

“Calm down you just don’t look like the type.”

“Type?”

“Fat chick from New Jersey.” He said. It was her turn to laugh then. They really so seem to love Bon Jovi in Jersey but maybe it was because he was from and lived there. She looked at him and then sighed. “So I suppose you would say one of his songs is a current favorite.”

“No.” She smiled.

“You are a very tricky one you know.”

“My favorite song in the moment is Pretty Things Are Going To Hell, which I guess is fitting for the situation we are in.” She said. This seemed to get his attention. He brushed some of his hair out of his face and looked at her closely. “What?”

“That’s from my latest album.”

“And?”

“Usually when I ask people what their favorite songs are well for one, they instantly assume I mean one of my songs which you didn’t. Then I don’t know usually it’s something like Ziggy Stardust or Starman or Heroes…nothing past 1980. Usually. Sometimes I get that but…my newest album. That barely debuted. It’s been out about a month.”

“I like it.” She said, “So…is this a problem? Should I burn it and go back to Ziggy?”

“No, God no.” He said putting a hand on her arm. “I’d prefer you listened to anything new I’ve been doing over that.”

“I’ve been listening to everything new you put out since I first realized who you were, however, I’m not a…well fanatic. Not really for anyone.”

“Except Bon Jovi?”

“That’s like the one exception okay? So sue me.” She laughed and finished the small bottle of vodka that she had opened. He moved in a bit closer and put his arm around her the tow of them looking out to the ocean and over the horizon as the sun started to set. He picked a few more dead things out of her hair and flicked them aside. She leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. They were silent for a long moment but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was very peaceful, like they’d know each other for years. She enjoyed it after all that had happened that day. It was a calming moment.

“What to do, what to say, what to wear on a sunny day…” Her eyes shift towards him, was he really singing for her? Not that she was going to complain but that was so nice, cute even. She liked it. “Who to phone who to fight who to dance with on a Sunday night…”

“Reaching the very edge you know, reaching the very edge, going to the other side this time…” She sang softly. He pulled back and looked at her. “Sorry it’s your song.”

“Well it should be sung by you, your voice is beautiful.”

“Did you get hit on the head during that crash too?”

“I’m not lying.” He laughed, “But yes I also took a few knocks to the head.”

“Well there that’s why you don’t think you are lying.” She laughed loudly. He gave her a playful shove and he shoved her back. She shoved him again and he shoved her but the forced was a bit too much and this caused him to topple over and on top of her. She cried out and looked up at him as he lay there. He shifted to put more weight on his arm but he didn’t get up completely. She leaned in and kissed him softly. He kissed back for a moment. There was a pause as they looked at each other. She smiled and he pulled her into a far more hungry and passionate kiss. She kissed him back with equal passion, her hands carefully moving over his chest and the scraps of fabric he was still trying to pretend was a shirt. After a moment he rolled over and pulled her on top of him. She broke the kiss and straddled his lap.

“You’re good with that mouth in several ways.”

“Sex on the beach isn’t nearly as fun or comfortable as it looks in the movies.” She said.

“That means you’ve done it before.”

“Attempted it, then I made her move inside with me.”

“Her? Really?” He asked, “I want all of the details, right now.” She tilted her head back and laughed loudly then got to her feet. Still standing above him she struggled for a moment and got her shirt off so she was in her bra. Tossing it aside she headed for the tent.

“We doing this or what?” He didn’t answer. There was a but of a scrambled as he tried to stand in the sand which didn’t work so he crawled after her like a hungry little puppy. She snickered and brushed off as much sand as she could before going into the tent. She’d been keeping as clean as humanly possible. There was soap and other things in the bags, luckily, but she had yet to give herself a great scrub down. Something she intended to do in the morning. She tried to lean in an discretely smell her armpit.

“You smell fine I’m sure I smell worse, ignore it.” He said pulling off his rag of a shirt. She looked at him her face got hot as she began to blush but it was dark enough in there that he wouldn’t be able to see it.

“You could smell like a pile of trash and I’d still fuck you because you’re David Bowie.”

“As flattering as that is, it also kind of ruins the mood. I’m not Bowie here, I’m David Robert Jones. Or Mr. Jones…Master…Daddy…” His voice greatly deepened when he said daddy and it made her giggle like an idiot as she pulled her bra off and tossed it aside. He scrambled to get one of the flashlights then he turned it on and hung it above them in the tent. “Damn…”

“Oh calm down.” She said and shoved him back onto the pile of clothes they were pretending were a bed now.

“Professor is fine too.”

“You’re just as kinky as the internet says aren’t you?”

“Way more than that, darling.” He pulled her into him placing a mouth over one of her nipples and starting to suck on it firmly, teasing her with his tongue at the same time. She moaned and clasped her hands over the back of his head, getting comfortable in his lap and pushing him in closer. She pulled him more on top of her and arched her back up.

“If you want my pants off you have to do it.” She whispered. He looked up at her and slowly pulled his mouth back.

“And this is supposed to be a problem?” He asked and smirked. He sat up straddling her and unzipped her pants, pulling them down with her panties. He moved in again starting to kiss at her thighs, his hands running over them as well. She moaned and wiggled under him gently. He pushed his face into her cunt next and she gasped. She wasn’t expecting that, especially not after all the hard labor she’d done that day. Her good hand went to his hair and tugged on it.

“David…”

“Oh please, you think I didn’t do worse in the 70s?” He asked looking up at her. She giggled and closed her eyes allowing him to continue. There was no hesitation and he was very into it. Nuzzling his face in, his nose bumping against her clit as his tongue darted out licking her wet folds. He moaned, growling a bit almost as if he were some sort of possessive animal. She loved it. Right when she thought she was about to cum he pulled back, licking his lips.

“HEY!”

“Shhh.” He whispered and started to work his pants off. He got about half way through that then got frustrated and just pounced on her, thrusting his cock into her roughly and starting to move his hips. She moaned loudly, pulling her legs back so he could get into her as deep as possible. He really was like an animal as he plowed into her. Everything she’d ever assumed about all of his hip movements on stage came true here but even more so. It was better than she ever thought possible. Her eyes rolled back and she reached out, scratching over his back.

“Oh God…” She panted and moaned again. He leaned in, pressing his face into her neck, thrusting feverishly like he couldn’t even control it any longer. She wrapped her legs around his waist and locked on tightly. One hand in his hair, the wrapped and splinted hand trying to dig her nails into his skin as he nipped at hers. His mouth covered hers for another kiss, muffling her loud moans before dipping down to her chest, sucking on the tit that he had missed before.

“DAVID!” She screamed, she was so close but he seemed to know how to go fast and slow, keeping her right there. She had a feeling he wasn’t going to let her cum until he did and though she wanted to complain it was such an intense build up. Like nothing she had ever felt. This man clearly knew what the hell he was doing. When he finally allowed her to release he wasn’t very far after her. His body reacting to the spasms of her cunt around his cock. He let out one of the most beautiful and melodic sounds of pleasure she’d ever heard. Unfortunately her vision was somewhat blurred by that point and she couldn’t see his face clearly. She briefly hoped that she’d some how get another chance to see it before collapsing and dozing off. That had been the perfecting ending to one of the most hard days of her entire life. Totally worth it.

Next Chapters.

[forbiddenwords]

Stranded (Chapter 3)

Written By: TheHeathenSlave Rating: Mature for Plane crash, injury, survival, desert island, stranded, drug usage, drinking, alcohol, awkward flirting, voyeurism, watersports, fetish, sexual tension, extreme illness, graphic, puss, wound cleaning, surgery, vomiting, oral sex, fluff, angst, romance, drug usage, assault, near death, happy ending. Fandom:  Real Person Fiction (Hours Era But Modern Day)

She never thought that a trans Atlantic flight could end in perfect paradise with David Bowie. Well…almost perfect paradise.

Previous Chapters.

When they got back to the camp, Leila sat down near the fire. The sun had passed high noon in the sky and had started to descend. She was very much hoping that it wouldn’t get freezing there at night but there wasn’t much way to tell until they spent the night there. David moved the cans of soup from the stone where he’d had them set to heat up. They were quickly placed into the sand to cool a bit. The rock was pushed off the coals at that point and he stoked the fire up more, glancing over at her. In the morning she planned to explore as much as she could. Find food sources, fresh water, and see if by any miracle there was going to be some other human on there. Friendly of course. The problem was if they were all the way out here then they probably weren’t the kind to want guests around.

“Thanks for everything.” She said, touching the sides of the can gently to see if it had cooled enough that she could pick it up and sip at the broth inside.

“No, thank you.” David said.

“What exactly have I done that I need to be thanked for?” She asked with a bit of a chuckle. All she’d really done was pull the metal out of him (which he could have done himself) and passed out a lot. Especially after making him shift her bone back into place. He’d made a fire, helped with the tent, and some how never once muttered any sort of complaint about how his side hurt. Which she was sure it did he just wasn’t saying it.

“I think you’ve done more for me than you have realized.” He said, “A lot of it has to do with anxiety…long story.” She gave him a look and decided not to ask. It probably wasn’t her business. However, maybe he was bringing it up because he wanted her to know and wanted to talk about it. If he had anxiety he could have ended up with a worse person than a psychiatrist.

“I can probably understand, now. I’m a psychiatrist.”

“You said you were an FBI agent.” He said, “And a doctor…now a psychiatrist?”

“You are aware that I can be all three of those things at once right?” She asked with a smirk. The can had cooled enough so she picked it up. After rotating it a bit to find an edge that wasn’t sharp she took a sip of the liquid inside. She honestly hadn’t tasted anything this good in a very long time. Desperation could make a gourmet meal out of just about anything.

“Yes,” He said and picked up his can as well, “Usually people go with one specialty and, there they stay.”

“Except you who has had how many stage personas by now?”

“You get my point.”

“Sorry…” She laughed, “I’m not upset. I know that people usually don’t take this into consideration.”

“So you aren’t a clinical doctor then, are you? Or even a psychiatrist. You must be forensic, which means the most you do on a daily basis is autopsies.” He pointed out.

“Correct. You’re very knowledgeable about this.”

“I read a lot.”

“It shows.” She said and drank more of the soup. “So maybe all I do is cut up dead bodies, it doesn’t mean I lack the medical skill of a practicing doctor. Autopsies get you very intimate with human anatomy just on a dead person. I still had to get the same life saving training and do the same rotations as any other doctor you’ll meet.”

“Considering my options were being stuck here with someone who didn’t go to medical school, I won’t complain too much.” He said, “Just…try not to think of me as a cadaver before I am one.”

“Yeah, same.” She smirked. He smiled back at her and then got more relaxed in the sand to consume his soup. Rest would do both of them good. Recharge them. Tomorrow they could sort out the items they had found more. Some of it would need to be buried before bed, to ensue that if there were animals around they couldn’t get to the food. It was easy to do that in sand since a hole could be dug deeply and with relatively little effort. All they needed to do was jam it into a suitcase and shove it down in there until tomorrow.

When she had finished her soup, she got up and moved to the rest of the stuff. It was all still in the raft. She grabbed the side of it and pulled, dragging it up towards the tent. David joined her a moment later to help, and it was a great help. She cautioned him to be careful of the wound on his side, though. If she had to literally stitch it shut that would risk far more infection than the superglue method he’d used before. She did pretty badly want a chance to clean it out properly but opening again also definitely meant infection. A bad one. He’d probably get an infection now, but it would be mild. Should be. It wasn’t something she wanted to mention to him. Hopefully she’d go through all of the pills and find some antibiotics. She’d already found narcotics. It was more likely that someone was traveling with penicillin than narcotics so she felt her odds were good.

“What are we doing now?” He asked.

“We need to separate the food. Anything that has a scent or could possibly draw animals this way.” She said. “The rest of the things we can move into the tent and keep there. The last thing we want is to attract wild bears here or something.”

“Bears? On a tropical island?”

“Okay whatever then, giant birds.”

“You really don’t know much about island wildlife, do you? This isn’t Australia.” He laughed and started to go through the supplies they had. She glared at him and then smiled as she looked away. Tropical islands and the animals that lived on them was definitely not one of her ares of expertise but she didn’t think her logic was flawed despite her being correct (or incorrect) about what type of animal might come snooping around their camp.

“I know enough. At least enough to stay safe in the areas where I usually camp. When I go to a tropical island it’s usually a vacation not…this.” She said. She found a small suitcase to empty out so they could pack up some of the food. They had found some beef jerky, which would be pretty essential when it came to protein in the next few days unless they could find a way to replace it. She wouldn’t know until tomorrow. They also put the potato chips in there, someone had packed a whole bunch of weird Asian flavors only really found in Japan. They were sealed in their bags but Leila was still worried the scent could attract animals even if it was very mild.

The other things were less fragrant. Some cans of food were left over from the emergency rations off of the plane. There were still a few bottles of left and some bottles of alcohol. Really good stuff that was being transported back. Including an incredibly expensive bottle of sake. There were chocolates, cookies, and a few candy bars. That was about it. A place like this would definitely had some kind of fruit, even if it was just coconuts. The bigger problem would be figuring out how to get up the palm trees to collect them. Also opening them. A big rock may do the trick. This could work reasonably well until they were found. If they were found. No, that wasn’t the way to think. Not only was she with David Bowie, but being an heiress there would be a whole fleet after her. Rika wasn’t the type of friend to give up a search until there was a body found (alive or dead) and she had plenty of money at her disposal. It really was a matter of when they’d be rescued. Not if.

Once things were taken care of to her liking, they added a bit more fuel to the fire. That would also help keep animals away. It was only a few feet from the outside of the tent. They didn’t exactly have blankets but they did have a ton of clothes. The few blankets they did have were still soaking wet, despite them being hung over an impromptu line to dry in the sun. Who knew that airplane blankets could hold that much liquid? Maybe they needed to move them more towards the heat of the fire. They still had a bit of time until the sun was completely set, they could dry in that period. Leila folded up some of the warmer clothes she could find, and piled them into a bed shape. She did this for David as well. A large down coat was all they really would have in way of a blanket and a lot of other clothes had to be set out to dry as well.

When it came to finding other medications they came out fairly well. Another bottle of narcotics, half a bottle of amoxicillin, a bottle of nyquil, some claritin, a few different bottles of ibuprofen, and then a very tightly sealed baggy of pot. Whoever had packed that had risked some serious problems boarding a plane with it. However, she knew from the dank smell the moment she’d opened it that it couldn’t be anything other than marijuana. It had been a long time since she’d smoked any pot but it may be a better idea for a painkiller than continuing to down narcotics. At least there was a pipe also packed in that bag. Along with drug paraphernalia magazines, bumper stickers, and a bunch of hippie style clothing. Like this guy had walked right out of 1977. She’d even found an Aladdin Sane shirt but had decided not to mention it to David in the chance that it would put him in a sour mood.

“So,” She said once he was laying on his ‘bed’ in the tent. “I’m going to need to check your side and make sure it’s clean, at least as clean as it can be given the situation.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Well, there are a few options, including opening the wound again. We have fishing wire and hooks that could be used to stitch–”

“Don’t finish that sentence please.” He said, wincing heavily at the thought.

“I know that it’s not great, David, but, like it or not you’re already risking infection. I want you to take the antibiotics I found.” She said, grabbing the bottle for him. He took it and looked at her.

“You’re sure this is…okay?”

“I know what the medication is and what it does. It’s only half a course but it’s better than nothing. Unless you have a severe allergy to amoxicillin I wouldn’t worry.” She said. He nodded and opened the bottle then dumped one pill out into his palm. “Drink a lot of water with it.”

“You need water too.” He said and took the pill anyway.

“True but we may find other sources of it on this island. If not, we can rinse out those soup cans and boil it. If we can find a fresh source. If not…I’ll have to see if I can remember the weird process of making ocean water drinkable. I think you can filter it through sand or something then boil it after that.” She sighed and grabbed the emergency flashlight from the first aid kit. Getting closer to him she turned it on. The little window in the tent let in light but not nearly enough to inspect a wound. “Now, hold still.”

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“It’s not going to feel nice.” She said, “You want some codeine to help with it?”

“Yeah that would be…a…good idea.” He said laying more on his side. She got out two pills of the T3 and handed them over then one of the packets of cookies they found.

“You’ll want to eat with that.” She said.

“Two? Leila, I don’t really–”

“You are trying so hard to pretend you aren’t in pain, and if you want to keep doing that, fine, but I know you are from how you tense, gasp, sigh, and move around. If you want to be able to sleep, two is what you need. One will help but it’s really just going to relax you and you need rest if you are going to fight this.” She explained. He nodded and took the pills, opening the packet of cookies to eat them, propping himself up so he could do that while she looked at his wound.

She moved the shirt back and shone the light on him. As suspected, there were already signs of infection. Swelling, bruising, and a bit of puss there. The good news was that the seal was holding up, the superglue that was in the kit had come in handy for that, but it had also managed to seal in any sort of dirt, debris, or rust that would have been left in there that couldn’t be cleaned out before he could seal it. Had she not passed out like she had, she’d have done it for him but she hadn’t gotten that opportunity. She resisted the urge to touch the area. It was tempting, because she wanted to feel if the redness was actually swelling or if it was trapped fluid. If it got any worse she was going to have to start draining the area and that was going to not only be painful, but incredibly gross.

“The good news is, the seal is holding up.” She said, “There is some signs of infection but the antibiotics should help keep it at bay for a bit. I want you to take six within the next 48 hours then 2 every 24 hours after that until you run out.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to space them out and conserve?”

“Not really.” She said, “The faster we get the into your system the faster they will work. Normally you’d be on 4 a day, not three, but I also have to consider how many we have. Antibiotics do keep working even after you finished the course, for about two weeks. So even when you are done they should keep flowing through your system. Your stomach isn’t going to be very happy with this you know.”

“Oh I’m well aware.” He said. He got comfortable again and closed his eyes. She grabbed the large down coat and draped it over him.

“Just try to get some rest, I’ll be outside if you need me, I’m going to try to dry those blankets better and maybe dry out a book or magazine to read.” She said. “I’ll be back in here around the time the sun has completely set as we really don’t have that much light to work with and I want to keep the flashlight for emergencies. That or having to go use the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

“You’re quite the angel you know, even if you are a bit anal retentive.”

“Thanks, I think.” She said and stroked some of his hair back softly. “Call if you need anything, okay?”

“Of course.” He said and closed his eyes. She moved out of the tent and zipped it up. From the outside she opened the other two windows so that a nice breeze could pass through the tent and make sure the temperature stayed tolerable. It already wasn’t too bad in there but she needed him to stay comfortable so she wouldn’t move around a lot and risk tearing open his side. Once that was done, she got to work attempting to dry the blankets. She dreaded the first night there but at least she wasn’t going to spend it alone.

Next Chapters.

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I have a request! Candy Clark said DB had a bit of trouble with the sex scenes in TMWFTE. so my request is: Candy notices he's nervous and asks to finish the scene later, so they wrap for the day and she invites him to hang out. to ease his nerves, they sleep together, with Candy sort of taking the lead. Bonus if he goes down on her. Thank you!

[forbiddenwords]

Stranded (Chapter 2)

Written By: TheHeathenSlave Rating: M for Plane crash, injury, survival, desert island, stranded, drug usage, drinking, alcohol, awkward flirting, voyeurism, watersports, fetish, sexual tension, extreme illness, graphic, puss, wound cleaning, surgery, vomiting, oral sex, fluff, angst, romance, drug usage, assault, near death, happy ending. Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Hours Era But Modern Day)

She never thought that a trans Atlantic flight could end in perfect paradise with David Bowie. Well…almost perfect paradise.

Previous Chapter. 

When the raft was on the beach (of which she did most of the work, terrified that if she didn’t, David would open his cut even further) she fell onto the sand trying to catch her breath. David, of course, was well rested. To a point. At least more than she was. Her wrist throbbed with agony and she wanted to scream with the throbbing headache she had. Most likely it was from dehydration more than anything else. David was sitting next to her, picking seaweed out of her hair. The ridiculous long hair that she was thinking about cutting the moment she got energy. It was a nice thought but she also knew she’d never actually do that so instead she just lazily turned to look at him.

“Having fun?” She asked.

“Somewhat.” He said, “Your hair is very long.”

“Thanks?”

“Well it is nice. Well taken care of. How did you do it?”

“I guess I just didn’t cut it for…30 years.” She chuckled. It took another moment but then she was able to sit up and take in a deep breath. “Can you grab me one of the water bottles from the raft? I’m dehydrated.” He nodded and moved to the raft carefully. She could tell he was in pain but he wasn’t saying anything about it. It had to be bad. He still had what counted as a shirt on even if it was also basically ripped to shreds and barely covering him. Mostly, it was covering the wound so she couldn’t see how actually bad it was. She was going to need to get a look at it. He definitely was risking infection right now. She was too but far less than him. Maybe there was medication in some of the bags she grabbed. Painkillers, antibiotics, anything. People carried a lot of stuff with them to travel and they had a lot of luggage.

She took the bottle from him when he handed it off to her and drank from it. Still slow sips as she didn’t want to end up vomiting. That would just make things worse. David went back to the pile of stuff they’d gotten and started to sift through it. She watched him for a moment as she slowly drank. The sun was rising in the sky. Slowly, her freezing and shaking form was beginning to warm up. She wondered where they were, if they’d be found. Maybe, just maybe, they had lucked out and landed on some private island where people would be. It was possible, just not very probable. As soon as she was rested, she’d go to look. She was sure he was going to insist on joining her for that but she wasn’t sure how much she wanted him moving around.

“Find anything good?” She asked him.

“Not yet. Nothing is my color or style.” He grinned at her. She laughed and grabbed a bag to open.

“Well…I don’t know how much you want walk around here naked.”

“You have a problem with the human form?”

“Not even a little. I’m a doctor remember? However, need I explain sand in certain areas, not to mention insects, parasites, and possible things that could wiggled up your urethra?” He was wincing before she even finished that sentence. Possibly having gained and understand about what she was going to say when she started to use the word ‘wiggle’.

“Okay, point taken.” He said making a face, “Don’t say urethra like that again.”

“Like what?”

“You know what.” He insisted. She smiled and shook her head as she began to sift through the bag she had pulled onto her lap. It wasn’t easy with a broken wrist in a horrible splint that was now kind of falling apart because the bandage around it was soggy. She could hopefully direct David how to fix her up later. It wasn’t important in the moment. Mostly because she had just found what she was looking for.

“Jackpot.” She said, pulling out a bottle of pills. It was only half full but it was the best they had. At least for now. “Percocet. Find some food and you can have some.”

“I don’t think…”

“You are under supervision of a doctor, there’s not even enough here for you to get high, and trust me at most you’ll get sleepy and slightly buzzed. It has acetaminophen in it as well. You’ll want it.” She told him. He gave her a weird look, one that seemed to say he wanted to protest but wasn’t going to. Nor was he going to tell her that she was probably right. They stayed in silence for a long while as they sorted out things from each of the bags.

“Hey hey hey, look.” David said excitedly and completely out of the blue. She looked up at him from trying to figured out how they were going to open up some of the cans of food from the emergency survival kit she’d picked up from the plane. It had been part of the first aid kit. There were a few cans of food but no can opener. Other than that, she had found a few bottle of alcohol, some snack foods, some junk food, and a few candy bars. They may not have been healthy but they’d be helpful. It turned out that David was pointing to a tent. Kind of. It was a bag that held a tent. Next to it was a tackle box but there didn’t seem to be any fishing rods around. That wasn’t a huge deal. They only needed to get some strong sticks, perhaps. It would be hard to do in the ocean but maybe there’d be a stream around. They didn’t know yet. She got up and walked to him, handing the bottle of water over.

“Drink.” She told him. He muttered something that sounded like he was mocking her but started to drink from the bottle anyway. She unzipped the bag for the tent and looked inside. It would definitely take two of them to put this one up. It wasn’t small. While he rested she started to pull things out and move them far up the beach where there was more solid ground and she could actually anchor the stakes. It wasn’t long before he joined her.

“You’ll need help.”

“Yes but first of all, I’m going to need you to redo this splint.” She lifted up her arm. She’d be far less useless if her wrist was stabilized and she could work.

“Me?”

“It won’t be that hard and I’ll tell you how.” She said and started to unwrap it. Her movements gingered and slow as she winced trying to ignore the pain. He stared at her in horror and then audibly gagged when he saw how broken her wrist actually was. “Oh calm down…”

“The bone is…”

“I know.” She said, “But you are strong and can force it back into place.” She said then got up and went down to the beach. It took a bit but she managed to get a small bottle of whiskey open. After that she downed two of the percocet with the alcohol and started to binge on a bag of chips. It was the best way to keep everything down. He just stood there, watching, like she was some kind of lunatic. She headed back to him with the first aid kit in her hand and sat down.

“Are you sure I should…”

“Grab a strong branch.” She told him. “Come on, before I’m too trashed to explain this too you.” She continued to gobble down the chips until the large bag was gone. Her stomach wasn’t too happy but it was far more calm than if she had put no food in there. He came back with a thick branch and she directed the length he should snap it in two. Then she got an ace bandage from the first aid kit (she’d used gauze before).

“Uh…”

“Just shift it back into place. I’m going to scream.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He sighed and took her wrist gently. “You can’t get mad at me.”

“I’ll be more mad if you pussy out and don’t do this.”

“I’m going to blame that comment on the…various drugs you just took.” He said. She rolled her eyes and he put his hands over her feeling the bone. “On the count of three.”

“Okay.”

“One…two…” He didn’t wait for three, he did it just then and without warning. As promised she screamed bloody murder and kicked her foot into the stand. He very quickly wrapped up her wrist as she yelled at him to make sure he did it as tight as he possibly could and check her fingernails to make sure blood was still circulating. By that point she was laying on her back trying to control her breath so she wouldn’t vomit. “I fail to see how this is going to make you better with the tent construction.”

“Shut…up.” She muttered, “Just give me a moment…okay?”

“You aren’t going to…die, right?”

“Don’t be a moron.” She whispered and put a hand over her face. Everything was spinning and she knew she couldn’t throw up right now. It would be stupid and wasteful. It was possible to keep it all down. There wasn’t too much alcohol in there. Enough to take the pills and a shot more. Not nearly enough to poison her system. It was more the pills that were tumbling around in there. She needed about ten minutes for it to pass. David paced around nervously, she focused on the sounds of that and the ocean to calm her down. When she didn’t feel like she was going to puke any more she got to her feet.

“You…okay? I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t be sorry.” She said, “Really. It was going to hurt no matter who did it. I appreciate the help. We have to get this tent up. The sun is brutal and I assume the night will be freezing. We need to do this then some how start a fire. Okay? A normal one and a signal one.” He nodded still looking freaked out by all of this but they started to get to work on the tent.

It was not easy because she was mostly wasted and he had clearly never put a tent up in his life but about two hours later they had a two person tent up. It was nice. There were windows and even a divider for the different “rooms”. That was a start. Once that was done she laid down, for a very long time and passed out, more or less. She didn’t know what David went off to do and her dreams were incredibly weird thanks to the narcotics. When she finally came to, her mouth was bone dry and she was shivering. Also, she really had to pee. Fuck.

She made her way out of the tent to see David sitting near by. He had made a fire. Maybe she was wrong about her thoughts that he was useless, at least in way of survival. Not that it would be extremely hard to make a fire with the waterproof matches in the kit that they had but he knew how to build one. The tinder and fuel was all piled up exactly how it should be. Impressive. Part of her, though she admired him as an artist, also figured he wouldn’t have been able to tie his shoes by himself let alone start and maintain a fire. He was cooking some food over it. There was a stone heating on the coals and he had two of the cans open and heating up. They seemed to be soup. Chicken noodle if she had to guess. The labels had been washed off.

“Hey.” She said softly. “Sorry I um…”

“It’s understandable.” He said and picked up a bottle of water to hold out to her. He winced as he turned and she frowned but took the bottle with her good hand. Her other hand was noticeably swollen at that point but only due to the injury. The bandage was tight but still not cutting off circulation. He’d been perfect at that too. She took a few sips of water and then set the bottle down next to him in the sand.

“Have to pee.” She said, “I’ll be…” She looked down at her jeans and sighed, “Can you um…help?”

“What?”

“Look I can’t reasonably get my pants open or even down with this injury I know it’s weird but it’s either that or piss myself.” She told him. He looked her over and then nodded.

“Lets not get too far from the food or fire though.”

“Fine, not sure I can walk that far.” She said.

It was really awkward having to ask for this level of help but it was her best option, honestly. They were only going to have each other for a while, they’d have to help each other. They walked to a more grassy and brush covered area and he stepped up close to her, his hands moving to undo her pants and pulled them down for her, along with her panties.

“Usually when I’m doing this it’s not to help a woman take a piss.”

“Yeah, I figured.” She laughed nervously. Carefully she squatted down, luckily the drugs in her system made her feel a bit less self-concision about this. “You wanna watch? I mean if you are into that…”

“Maybe I am…” He grinned wickedly, “But I guess you’ll never know because I am not going to watch…this time.” He turned and then took a few steps away. Her face got hot and she blushed, she knew that’s all it could possibly be at that point. None of that really should have aroused her. Not really because she found the fetish gross, she totally could get into the whole voyeurism thing, but because this situation was so fucked and there was no reason to get horny. Plus, that was a shitty excuse for a pickup line or even some odd attempt at seduction. She watched him as she peed, which felt so amazing in that moment. When she finished she stood up carefully and somewhat pulled her panties back up, her jeans were more difficult.

“Um…”

“Need help?” He asked then turned.

“Don’t look so happy about it you…weirdo.” She said but couldn’t help but smile at this whole thing. He was very attractive and god, that voice. He sauntered back over to her and helped her with her jeans standing close and looking down into her eyes as he fastened them for her. He leaned in, getting very close like he was going to kiss her but didn’t.

“Weird is my middle name, well, one of them. If you get me drunk enough, I might tell you my others.” He whispered before stepping back and heading for the campsite. She just stood there staring at him somewhat blankly before hurrying after him. She was starving and for far more than just dinner, even if that was part of it.

Next Chapters.

[forbiddenwords]

Stranded (Chapter 1)

Written By: TheHeathenSlave Rating: M for Plane crash, injury, survival, desert island, stranded, drug usage, drinking, alcohol, awkward flirting, voyeurism, watersports, fetish, sexual tension, extreme illness, graphic, puss, wound cleaning, surgery, vomiting, oral sex, fluff, angst, romance, drug usage, assault, near death, happy ending. Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Hours Era But Modern Day)

She never thought that a trans Atlantic flight could end in perfect paradise with David Bowie. Well…almost perfect paradise.

It was going to be a long flight and she was well aware of that. Even in business class, it didn’t seem like the most appealing thing in the universe. Oh well, it would just be a few hours right? If she took a sleeping pill and helped herself to the complimentary champagne service, she’d be out for most of the 10 hours that she was going to be forced to sit in one place. By the time the plane was about to take off she’d already had two glasses of champagne and a larger dose of ativan than usually advised (but she didn’t care since she was a doctor). Just as she drifted off she was sure she saw a familiar face smiling at her from just across the row. He was kind of fuzzy. Did she know him? Whatever, she’d bought two seats here just so she could stretch out and she was damn well going to make use of them.

Suddenly she was cold, wet, soaking wet. It was freezing. What the hell happened? She let out a loud scream, or rather tried to, it was quickly filled with water. Panicked, she flailed around a bit and started to swim. It was near the break of dawn, the sun just rising on the horizon and nothing but water as far as the eye could see. At least when it came to some sort of land mass. Otherwise all around her was debris. Some of it flaming. The plane? When had any of this even happened? How? Had she honestly slept through a plane crash? That wasn’t possible, right? Okay, maybe it was since she’d been completely trashed before the plane even got in the air.

She reached out and grabbed a piece of luggage floating by and used it to keep herself up. Her wrist just had to be broken, luckily it wasn’t on her dominant hand or she would have been fucked. There were bodies around. Bodies and body parts. Her stomach lurched but she managed to hold down the vomit. She didn’t know much about sharks or other predatory sea animals but she didn’t think it would be a great idea to vomit right now. Was anyone still alive? Someone had to be. Please let someone be alive. Using the luggage to keep herself above water she began to kick her legs to move herself away from some of the more intense flames. It wasn’t long before she came across a raft. It was floating there, in it’s tiny little contained package. With quite a bit of effort she managed to pull the cord. The thing was sturdy, actually let her small frame climb into it with only a it of energy expended. That was one problem solved.

“Hello?” She called, her voice weaker than she wanted it to be. She started to cough heavily and ended up vomiting anyway, right over the side of the raft. “Dammit.” She whispered and wiped her mouth with the back of her uninjured hand. She started to paddle as much as she could with her good arm. Anything that floated by she picked up and tossed into the raft. Since the thing was meant for about twelve people, she was going to have more than enough room to carry things with her. She doubted there were even twelve people alive. Not even three. She saw no movement other than the flames coming from the wreckage. Quickly she was losing hope that she was even going to make it out of this.

Each body she passed she was sure to give a good shake, but nothing. There was no response. Just as panic was starting to inch into her mind the raft shook violently causing her to scream. She looked over across the way, scrambling back a bit to try to keep the thing from tipping as another person climbed in. A man. His shaggy hair hanging in his face. He was clutching his side, there was something sticking out of it. Seemed he was struggling for breath. He collapsed on his back in the small space left where she hadn’t been stacking bags and other supplies that might become useful in the next few days. Once the shock had subsided, she scrambled over to him and looked down at his injury.

“I’m a doctor.” She said, “Let me help.”

“I’d say it was my lucky day but I was just in a plane crash.” He muttered and let out a grim chuckle. His accent was British and his voice was deep, two things she didn’t expect at all from this tall skinny man. But, she recognized him, the face that was smiling across the isle from her? She’d seen him before right? It didn’t matter, she had to help him first.

“Well…I suppose you could call this a streak of luck during a very unlucky day.” She laughed softly. “Hang on, I picked up a large first aid kit.” It was a huge one, attached to buoys, most likely just in case of a water landing or crash. She found it and opened it, pulling a flashlight and some other materials. It had been sealed so no water had actually gotten into it. Everything inside was dry, untouched. She turned on the flashlight and shone it over his injury. There was a piece of metal stuck in him and there was no way of telling how deep it was. She’d have to make a few educated guesses.

“Is it hard to breathe?” She asked.

“I would say so.” He laughed and then winced. She smiled at him gently and pushed some hair out of his face.

“Your eye its…”

“No that was…it’s been like that for a while it didn’t happen in the crash.” He said. “Just…take the metal out.”

“Okay okay but I mean…I need to make sure it’s not in your lung.”

“Could I talk if it were?” He replied. He did have a point, and it annoyed her because she was supposed to be the doctor here. The thing was, she wasn’t a clinical doctor. She was a forensic psychiatrist for the FBI. All she ever did was autopsies which meant working on already dead people. Though she had the qualifications to work on living people and the knowledge to save lives, it was definitely not something she did every day. Especially not after a plane crash.

“Right.” she said, “So can you take in a deep breath for me and let it out slowly?” She asked him. He nodded and did as she asked, wincing a bit but he was able to get in a full breath and let it out. There was no way that thing was too deep in there, or at least hitting anything vital if that were the case.

“Take it out?”

“Alright but if you bleed out…”

“I probably would have anyway, do you think help is really going to come any time soon? Even if you leave it in out of precaution? I’m consenting to the treatment pull the fucking thing out of me.” He growled. Her mouth was dry, and the taste in there was still bitter from the vomit. She just nodded and grabbed the metal, pulling it out. Thankfully, it really was only stuck in there about two inches. She quickly grabbed some gauze and unwrapped it before pressing it over the wound and holding it there tightly.

“You might need stitches but first we are going to hope the bleeding stops on its own, mostly because I haven’t got crap to stitch you up with. Might be able to find some super glue though.”

“Are you mad?”

“That’s originally what it was invented for.” She informed him, “Or you know, you could just die. Pretty sure you’d make very nice fish bait once I get desperate.”

“Very funny.” He muttered and then coughed.

“Hold this gauze there, my wrist is broken I need to find a way to splint it.” She said, grabbing one of his hands with her uninjured hand and putting it in place. “Apply as much pressure as you can without causing yourself too much pain, okay?”

“Yes yes.” He rolled his eyes and moved onto his back. “You didn’t recognize me before.”

“Don’t really recognize you now, to be honest, then again my mind isn’t in a place where I need to be freaking out at celebrities.” She muttered and started to go through more of the first aid supplies. There wasn’t anything in there she could use as a splint, she was going to have to improvise.

“So you at least admit to knowing I am a celebrity.” He asked. “Yet somehow you don’t recognize me.”

“Look…sir…”

“Sir? That’s a new one. I’m not old enough for you to be calling sir, ma’am.”

“Okay I am not old enough to be a ma’am I’m 38.” She snapped at him.

“So how exactly do you think I feel being called sir?”

“You are at least in your 50’s.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He said, “Look the point is I’m actually kind of glad you don’t know who I am. Saves me the trouble of having to deal with some kind of fan girl in this situation.”

“Oh?” She asked, “Well, you ever consider I might be famous as well?”

“Don’t recognize you.”

“Not famous in America. Not really. More it’s my family name that is. In any case, I’ve met a lot of celebrities each less impressive than the last. I hate to break it to you…guy…but you’re still a human being. You don’t shit chocolate ice cream because the whole world knows your name.”

Finally her hands settled on a ruler. Not sure why that was among the bags and debris. Maybe an architect or school teacher was traveling with it. No matter, it would work as a splint for now. The guy started to make some weird noise and at first she thought he was choking but then realized it was just a very weak and pained laugh. Ignoring him for the moment, she broke the ruler in half, which wasn’t easy, and used the combination of that and an ace bandage to tightly splint her wrist. No help from him either. He just lay there holding his side and laughing.

“Going to tell me what’s so funny now?” She asked, finally being able to rest back against the side of the raft and take a few deep breaths.

“If I had to get stranded, I’m glad it’s with the one person who isn’t impressed with what I do.” He said, “Maybe it is my lucky day. Wonder if the world will be convinced I’m dead. Now that, that would be interesting.”

“Oh…?” She asked and looked at him, squinting her eyes a bit as the sun rose more and light became more useful. “David Bowie?”

“You guessed right. Only took you…lets see…you passed out right before the plane took off so five hours or so?” He asked, “Congratulations, thought I was going to have to tell you.”

“Okay I was passed out for…how long were we in the air?”

“About three hours. Think the engine exploded.”

“You mean one of the engines, there isn’t just one engine on a plane like that. Whatever. I was passed out for three of those hours so really it took me ten minutes, and 9 of those minutes consisted of pulling metal out of your side and splinting my wrist.”

“Fair point.” He said. “So, what do we do now?”

“Look for land and hope that maybe there’s some kind of radio or beacon that is going off that a rescue team can follow to find us.” She sighed and closed her eyes trying to ignore the agonizing pain in her wrist. “Just shut up and let me think for a moment.”

The moment was longer than she meant it to be. A lot longer. The next thing she knew she was waking up because David was pushing at her side with his foot. One of her eyes opened and she noticed the sun was high over head. They weren’t anywhere near the debris of the plane, they must have drifted. There wasn’t even luggage floating in the water, there was, however, much more luggage in the raft. A ton more. David must have grabbed some more before collapsing back in place. At least he’d thought to do that. They would need as much as they could get, especially food. Seemed to be quite a bit of that.

“What?” She muttered. God her mouth was dry. Her other eye opened and she looked around. In the large first aid kit she had grabbed and opened before passing out, there was a bottle of water. She grabbed it and without thinking too much, tried to twist open the top. Then she screamed in pain and dropped the thing.

“Hey hey, careful.” He said, and grabbed the bottle as it rolled towards him. He sat up, carefully, opened it, and held it towards her. “I see land.” She took the bottle and took a few small sips. It was tempting to gulp it down but she knew it would just make her sick if she did that.

“Where?” She asked. He pointed behind her and she turned. He wasn’t wrong. There was land there but it was very questionable if it was inhabited land. Well, civilized in-habitation. Most likely it was just some random island. It would still be better than staying in a boat. More food sources, possible fresh water. If not they could always boil some or…well it was better than what they had now. “Come on we have to try to paddle this raft towards it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Are you serious about not doing that?” She asked. He gave her a look and shifted onto his knees. Then he grabbed the bottle of water from her and took a few sips himself. While he did that, she looked around in the boat for anything that could work was somewhat of a paddle. Nothing. Damn. In desperation (and maybe a bit of stupidity, she jumped into the water and got behind the raft starting to push it as she swam in the right direction.

“You want help with that?” David asked.

“I wouldn’t advise jumping back into the water with that wound in your chest.” She called. “Did it stop bleeding?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You don’t want to risk opening it again just…navigate.” She told him.

“Alright.” He said.

This plan worked for a good while, somewhat. She was exhausted but her will to survive was overpowering her will to pass out and give up. By the time she was nearly completely out of energy they were almost to the island. It was only about a thousand yards away. David had to help her back into the raft where she collapsed again, her lungs burning and her body aching like she never thought possible before. He handed her the bottle of water then started to use his hands to paddle. Progress was slow but they were getting there. Hopefully the tide would eventually catch them and wash them onto shore instead of insisting on pushing them back out.

“T-Thank you.” She whispered.

“Thank you. I think we’d have been fucked if you didn’t do something that crazy.” He told her, shifting from one side of the raft to the other to make sure they didn’t go off course. “What was your name again?”

“Again? Did I even tell you before? Sorry, it’s Leila.” She whispered and took a few more sips of water. “Hopefully you have some idea about survival on a deserted island.”

“Really? You think that’s what David Bowie does with his time? Camping?”

“No but I guess I was hoping. I read something online about you reading every book you could ever get your hands on. The odds being what they are because of your age, one of them could have been about survival.” She said.

“Possibly, but it would also come down to how much I remember said book and I haven’t read one like that recently. What about you?” He asked.

“I’m an FBI agent.” She said, “Hunting and fishing are a hobby, hiking as well. Don’t really camp too much but I have a general idea how to survive in a situation such as this.”

“Well, we should be fine then. You do all the work and I’ll provide the entertainment.” He laughed. She smiled and pushed some hair out of her face. This was one of those times that she realized it was just too long. Down to her waist and in the way more than she needed it to be. This was what prompted her to go through the bags until she found a scrunchy to pull it into a ponytail. By that point, they were nearly there and the waves had caught them pushing them up towards the beach.

“When we get close enough, I’ll hop out and pull us the rest of the way. Don’t get out until we are on land, I don’t want that cut to open up.” She said.

“You’re bossy.” He smiled, “but, can’t complain much.”

“Better not.” She muttered and then snickered, not being able to help herself. Of all the places she never thought she’d end up, it was on an island after a plane crash alone and with David Bowie. Perhaps she’d been wrong about how unlucky this situation was. At least for herself. She could honestly use the time off. How bad could it really be?

Next Chapters.

[forbiddenwords]

Kiss Of Fire (oneshot)

Written By: TheHeathenSlave Rating: M for Smut Warnings: Objectification, Wet Dreams, Sexual Intercourse (M/F), Professor/Student, Age Difference, Sexual Fantasy  Fandom: Professor Jones

Professor Jones has been having fantasies about one of his students but finds that by the end of the semester things may leave fantasy and become reality.

Everyday she showed up in something more sexual than the last day. He was having a hard time with it, a very hard time. Especially since he was the professor and she was just a student. He also had to be at least twenty years her senior probably thirty if he was going to be far more realistic about the situation. Part of him wanted to pull her aside and accuse her of doing it on purpose. The truth was, that it was just how kids dressed these days. He wouldn’t even classify her outfits as slutty just very flattering to her body type. She didn’t exactly flirt with him either. Was a nice girl, had a beautiful name, Maria. Olive skin, long dark hair, and amazingly bright green eyes. Sometimes she would lean down to fix her shoe or shift to pull off her sweater to reveal a cute tank top underneath. Why the hell did he choose California of all places to take tenure at a professorship?

Her body was that of a dancer. Tall, slender, but very fit. She had amazing legs and was always wearing heels. On the rare occasion he heard her laugh it sent chills through his body. Who was he kidding? This wasn’t a thing that would ever happen and he knew it. She was acing the class, music history, so it wasn’t as if she’d ever try to come to him with a favor as so many other girls did. Guys had tried that one too. He was very strict on his policy about not changing grades for sex, regardless of the gender, but he felt if she asked he might end up bending the rules for her. Too bad that was not ever going to be a request she would need to make.

Today was the day of final exams. She was in a white sundress, her hair was down and hanging over her shoulders obscuring her cleavage. That was until she would flip it back over her shoulder to get it out of the way again. Normally she wore it in a braid but today was not one of those days. He found himself staring at her, his hand moving to the crotch of his pants. There were a few strokes of his bulge but he knew that he couldn’t continue this. Not in a room full of students. It was maddening how bad he wanted her and horrible because it was purely physical as an attraction. He barely knew her as a person and it was probably better that way. No way to get his heart broken finding out about a boyfriend she may have (or girlfriend) whatever she did on her off time.

He zoned out for a bit, having nothing to do other than watch these students take the test. One by one they all filed up to his desk to drop off the paper and then exit the class room once they were finished. Wasn’t like there was a need for them to stick around once they had completed it. This wasn’t high school they were all adults. Maria, she was the one who lingered. On and on. He knew she wasn’t stupid and this test should have been a breeze for her. It was like she was doing it on purpose, to mock him.

Finally, she was the only one left in the room. Her head still down and working furiously at the test, as if she were trying to catch up with the others so she could go leave. Probably hang out at the beach or something. Whatever the kids were doing these days. His thoughts strayed to how she looked in a bikini. He felt like a creep but at the same time he couldn’t help himself. This was the last day his classes would be in session anyway. Then it would be graduation and a nice long summer break. He could get away from here and spend time at the beach himself. Wishing he was 20 years old again and had a chance with a girl like her.

Then she finished her test and walked over to his desk, setting it down right in front of him. She leaned forward so he could see right down the top of her dress and reached out her perfectly manicured hand to brush his bangs back and out of his face.

“You look lost in thought. Must be very intense thoughts,” she whispered, her voice more sultry and seductive than he’d ever heard it. She spoke with a slight Hispanic accent and that only made him all the more drawn into her. Her voice eloquent and soft. Feminine but not girly, and definitely the voice of a woman who knew what she was doing and what she wanted. He swallowed hard, staring at her green eyes with his intense blues.

“Uh…yes just considering my plans for this summer. Eager to get out of here on holiday you know,” he said. “Looks as if you will make that dream come true, yes?”

“I can make more than that dream come true,” she told him then sat on his desk. Her long legs dangled off of the side, her wedge sandals arching her beautiful feet in an achingly tempting manner. His eyes traced them as he thought about them over his shoulders as he fucked into her. Right on this very same desk.

“Maria…”

“Shhh…” She whispered and put her finger to his lips. “I am no longer a student am I? Since I finished the test.”

“Well, there is a chance of failure. Then um…you’d have to take the class again.” He spoke against her finger not even attempting to move his lips away from her touch.

“No there isn’t. You know how well I do here,” she said and laid back across his desk, grabbing his tie and pulling him in closer. “I see the looks you give me, Professor. I know what you want and I know what I want. I always get what I want.” He didn’t doubt that was true, especially because he’d have handed over the keys to his house and car to her in that very moment had she asked him to.

“What is it, you want?” He whispered.

“Is it not obvious?” She asked yanking his tie down, far more assertively that time, and pulling him into a fiery kiss. He couldn’t resist her and just had to kiss back. Throwing caution to the wind he mounted the desk, straddling her body and pushing her dress up. His hands moving under the fabric to touch her tight stomach. The dress restricted access to her breasts from that direction so they moved up over top again one hand resting on each tit. He groaned into her mouth and she turned her head to break the kiss before giving him a rough slap. “You want to fuck me?”

“Oh God yes… I... I really do.”

“Good.” She grinned and ran her hands over his chest, “Fuck me on this desk, right here. Right now.” He didn’t have to be told twice. He scrambled back and stood at the edge, grabbing her hips, and pulling her forward. She giggled softly, a finger going to her mouth to suck on as they made eye contact. This only hurried him into more action getting her panties off and tossing them to the side. After fumbling with his pants for a moment his cock was out and he had thrust into her roughly, causing her to moan. A very loud moan that echoed through the teaching hall. Her legs, just long enough to pull up and rest over his shoulders as he buried his cock to the base in her magnificent body. She moaned again, so did he, and she arched her back up towards him as he started to pound into her. His hands moving back to her breasts to massage them sensually, pulling down her dress to get a better look. Not much luck there, she had a bra on. It was some what transparent and he could make out the color and shape of her nipples but not everything.

“Fuck…” He panted having to pull back to regain his balance and continue fucking into her at the pace he wanted to go. There were no objections from her, only moans and groans of pleasure. He could have sworn at some points she called him Daddy but that may have just been his imagination.

“Oh God…” She whined reaching for his hand and deftly pressing it against her clit, “Close…so close…” He was glad that was the case because he could barely contain himself. Normally he had far more willpower and stamina but not with her. She was just perfect. Everything about her. He honestly wished someone could have photographed this moment just for the wonderful aesthetics it was probably creating with the shape of her body. How it writhed in only pleasure on his desk. It was moments later when they were both crying out in ecstasy and reaching their climax.

“Professor Jones?”

“Huh?”

“Professor?” David bolted upright quickly when he heard his name like that again. Had he fallen asleep? Really? That wasn’t the only problem according to the hot wet patch he now felt on his slacks. Luckily he was sitting at his desk so his lap was hidden under it. Unfortunately the person saying his name was Maria and she was holding her test out to him. It had all been a dream. In the middle of class. A fucking wet dream like he was a teenage boy again. His face flushed but he realized there was no one else in there. She was the last. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah just…bad dream, bad back, bad everything, really.” He said, “Have you finished?”

“Yes.” She smiled, “Maybe your bad dreams will stop over the break. Has to be stressful working here.” He took the test from her hand but noticed something under it. Fabric of some sort.

“I think the summer heat and sun will do me good over the next few months.”

“You and me both,” she replied. Then she pulled her bag over her shoulder and turned to walk away. He watched her before flipping the test over to see that there was a nice pair of lace panties there, they could have only been hers because they were white and matched the dress she was wearing. Also she had handed them to her. A note on the back of the test had a phone number, a lipstick print, and the words ‘call me’. Perhaps his perverted dreams would become a reality after all. He would just have to find the courage to call her before she changed her mind.  

[forbiddenwords]

Strangers When We Meet (Chapter 5)

Written By: luvbowieluvr Rated M for Strong sex scenes Trigger Warnings: Gun references Fandom: Real Person Fiction

During a terrible storm, a unlikely friendship forms between Bowie and an amazed fan who stumbles upon the star in an unusual place. But something isn’t quite right….

Previous Chapters

The walk to Rosalyn’s home was a long one, but the path extended out to a part of town that was not quite so bustling with people. In fact, it was quite pleasant as they passed by parks with trees and ponds filled with ducks. She was growing tired, her legs starting to ache and she felt out of breath. By the time they reached her home, it was almost midnight and they were both shivering. She wasn’t sure when, but along the way Bowie had taken off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

“I think it might snow in a day or so,” Rosalyn said, as she turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. They walked inside and Rosalyn immediately set about lighting the fireplace. Bowie looked around at the clothes and other things strewn oddly about the place, Rosalyn tried to not be embarrassed by the mess.

“Sorry it’s so messy,” she looked over her shoulder at him, feeling the first warmth of the fire begin to ease her shivering.

Bowie looked at her as if she’d said something odd. “It’s just like the place where I used to live,” he smiled easily, walking over to sit with her by the fire, “reminds me of home.” He stared into the fireplace, the orange flames flickering in his eyes as they curled up together on the sofa. Rosalyn was unsure how long they stayed there for, but when she opened her eyes the next day - he hadn’t left her in the night. She smiled to herself but didn’t move, the fire was almost out and she knew she should probably get it going again but she was warm and cozy here with him on the sofa and she drifted lazily back to sleep.

She next awoke to warm, hot kisses on her neck and shoulder. A giggle escaped her and she felt him smile against her skin, which was warm and she noticed the fire was roaring away. “How long have you been up for?” she asked, turning into him and snuggling up. “About an hour,” came his soft reply, and

Rosalyn thought she could listen to that voice forever.

“What woke you?” wondered Rosalyn out loud, looking at him as he smiled again.  

“Freezing paws,” he gestured to the small cat, curled up on the rug by the fire.

Rosalyn chuckled, the little stray had always managed to find a way into her house and she had never chased it off. “Poor thing,” she watched the thin cat as it slept, “there’s no way that she’ll survive the snow.”  

“Keep her inside,” suggested Bowie.  “I can’t force her to stay,” said Rosalyn, “she’s half wild, but I’ll do my best.”  She got up and heated up some milk on her stove, then gave it to the cat in a bowl.

“It is getting quite cold,” said Bowie, shifting closer to the fire, “we should go somewhere warmer…. ” Rosalyn looked over at him.

“Like where?” she asked, seating herself beside him again.

“I don’t know yet,” replied Bowie, “but I’ll think of something.” The day had already turned into afternoon by the time they had left the house, headed back into town to see someone Bowie knew about going somewhere warmer for a while. As they passed by the park, Rosalyn slowed down and they sat on a bench together.

“I used to play here when I was little,” Rosalyn told him, “me and my brother and sister, we’d sometimes stay here until really late evening… ” She trailed off, remembering the fun times of her childhood. After a moment or two longer, she snapped back to the present.

“I’m sorry,” she blushed, “let’s go.” Bowie stood up and took her hand, Rosalyn walked with him but they were walking back the way they had come. “I thought..?” Rosalyn glanced over her shoulder.

“It’s warm inside,” replied Bowie, “we don’t need to rush off just yet.” They returned to her home and spent a while making it look tidy and lived in. After dinner, they sat on the sofa and as she lay in his arms she knew there was nowhere else she’d rather be. They drifted into a contented slumber, moving up to her large bed before they fell asleep together under the covers. Something stirred Rosalyn awake that night, she sat up and looked across the room as her heart leapt into her throat.

She gasped audibly, capturing the attention of those present. A very large and muscular man had hold of Bowie, standing behind the rockstar and pulling his arms behind his back. A woman stood facing them, but she turned when Rosalyn gasped and Rosalyn felt her blood boil with rage. She seethed with fury, it was the same waitress from days ago!  

“Let him go you bitch!” she started to get out of bed, but a short yelp from Bowie as his arms were painfully pulled harder stopped her in her tracks.

“Now, now,” said the woman smugly, “you’d best watch that temper of yours, it could get someone hurt.”  Rosalyn looked at Bowie, he seemed unhurt but looked quite confused and nervous. She was afraid for him, just what did they want?! The woman walked towards Rosalyn and Bowie started to struggle, causing her to pause and look back at him.

“Ohh how sweet,” she cooed, turning back to Rosalyn, “you’ve been a thorn in my side for quite a while now, but I’ve got him and you’re not going to spoil my plans this time.”

“No!” Bowie’s voice was desperate, but he could not get free and Rosalyn stared with big eyes at the gun pointed directly at her face.

“Sonja,” came the brute’s deep voice, “he’s getting out of control.” The woman turned to look at the brute who was holding Bowie, as big as he was - he was having trouble keeping his grip on the struggling rockstar. Sonja sighed and walked back over to them, the closer she got the less Bowie struggled until they were both still - face to face. She suddenly kissed him, Bowie’s muffled protests lost in her mouth and

Rosalyn could only watch with bubbling anger rising into her chest. Breaking off the kiss and turning to look over her shoulder, Sonja smiled almost cat-like at Rosalyn.

“Yummy,” she growled playfully, “I could do that all day!”

“Just leave us alone!” Rosalyn screamed at her, “we don’t have anything of value!”  

“Oh, but you do,” Sonja responded coldly, “do you know how much this man is worth?” She ran her fingertips down Bowie’s chest. Rosalyn saw him tense up at her touch, she was worried that he might do something to get away and be hurt. So they were going to kidnap him? Hold him for ransom? Was that the plan?  Rosalyn was silent, there had to be a way out of this, surely? Suddenly, she got an idea and she laughed.

“Him? He’s not worth anymore than I am!” she told Sonja, who glared at her suspiciously.  

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning to study Bowie carefully, “this is David Bowie…. ”  

“No,” Rosalyn said quickly, “he’s not really, I mean - He does parties and clubs, he’s an impersonator…. Not the real thing.” Sonja narrowed her eyes at the brute, who was still holding Bowie very painfully.

“How can this be!?” she growled, then looked at Rosalyn again and sneered, “I suppose I will believe you, no famous star would ever get involved with someone so … common.”

Rosalyn’s eyes lowered to the floor, but she held her tongue. Bowie’s eyes flashed with fury, but he did the same. “Come,” Sonja said after a while, “we must find him - the real him.” She walked towards the door.

“What about these two?” asked the brute, letting go of Bowie’s arms and walking after Sonja. “Leave them be,” drawled Sonja, “they are not worth time or bullets.”

A few minutes after they’d gone, Rosalyn collapsed onto the sofa and shook violently. Bowie sat slowly down with her but remained eerily silent, clearly going over things in his mind. “I suppose we should tell the police,” Rosalyn said shakily, “I’m afraid of what they might do when they find out I lied… “  

Bowie put his arm around her.  “Perhaps we should,” he agreed, “but not until I get you somewhere safer than this.” He stood up with her and led her to the bedroom.

“Pack your things,” he told her, “we’re going to my place.”

Rosalyn nodded mutely and went about, packing whatever she didn’t want to leave behind. A cab was called and they were soon on their way, including the cat who didn’t seem to mind being put into a carrier - with lots of yummy food to eat on the way. The cab driver was smiling but said not a word, Bowie and Rosalyn relaxed in the back seat and held hands as they watched the scenery pass by their windows.

After what seemed like hours, they finally arrived at Bowie’s home and Rosalyn felt safer almost instantly. There was security here and big locks, Bowie hadn’t been home in quite a while but had phoned ahead and made sure the security was all in place. Once they got inside, they both let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and unpack,” said Bowie, “let me deal with the police.” And so the day ended with statements and promises to find Sonja before she could do any real damage.

Sleep was not easy that night, but they were safe and soon were able to drift off until morning. Everything had happened in a blur, Rosalyn wished she had explored or looked around a little but they were both so tired and stressed out, perhaps a new day would be best for that sort of thing. The little cat purred by the warm vents in the floor, she was free to come and go if she wanted to but she mostly liked to be indoors when it was this cold out!

Rosalyn woke to mumbling, turning to look over at Bowie. He seemed to be having a bad dream, so she put her arm around him and he calmed back into sleep once more. When she awoke the next morning, she slid quietly out of bed and decided to make some breakfast for them both. It wasn’t easy to find any food, it seemed Bowie hadn’t been home in months! She sighed and just about gave up, what would they eat?

“We need to go shopping,” she said aloud, hearing his soft footsteps behind her.

“Oh,” Bowie glanced at the empty food storages, “so be it, then. But let’s go to a pancake shop first, I am starving!” Rosalyn smiled and ruffled his bed-hair, he looked like a sleepy toddler early on Christmas morning.

“I think showers are in order first,” she laughed. He smiled at her and tilted his head.

“Let’s conserve water,” he took her by the hand, “and just have one.” She giggled as they walked to his lovely bathroom, perhaps today would be a lot better than yesterday after all.

Next Chapters

[forbiddenwords]

Hey there So i have a request.. no, a need for Professor Jones teaching litreture ♡

[forbiddenwords]

I seem to be unable to click on any of the side links on the main page. Is there something wrong? I can't seem to click on the index.

Whoops! Thank you for telling us, it’s fixed now!

[forbiddenwords]

Strangers When We Meet (Chapter 4)

Written By: luvbowieluvr Rated M for Strong sex scenes Trigger Warnings: Drug reference Fandom: Real Person Fiction

During a terrible storm, a unlikely friendship forms between Bowie and an amazed fan who stumbles upon the star in an unusual place. But something isn’t quite right….

Previous Chapters

Rosalyn was speechless, she wanted to believe him with her whole being but she just couldn’t help that niggling feeling right in the back of her mind. He was looking at her, his eyes hopeful and his smile slowly fading the longer she remained silent. She had to say something, anything… She wanted to jump up and scream and yell with joy, she wanted to tell the world and dance around in celebration! So why didn’t she?

Why was she letting him draw away? “No you don’t,” she found herself telling him, at the same time she was internally screaming at herself!  

Bowie looked a little taken aback, he didn’t know where to look so he just stared at his hands in front of him on the table. “I’m pretty sure I do,” he said quietly, looking at her for just a moment, then returning his gaze back down to his hands.

“Just hear me out,” Rosalyn tried to explain, “I really don’t want to hurt you.“  Bowie nodded, but he still wasn’t looking at her.  Rosalyn continued. "Ever since I first heard of you,” she went on, “I’ve had this huge crush on you, I mean - who doesn’t? But that’s all I thought it was, just a crush like anyone else has… ”

She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

“When we met in person I knew it was more than that,” she told him, “suddenly I realized that I was in love with you for real.” 

Bowie’s gaze met hers again and Rosalyn admired them for a moment, they were so beautiful and right now they looked confused. “How can you tell me I don’t love you,” Bowie asked, “yet sit here and confess that you love me?” 

Rosalyn sighed.  "I know it sounds unfair,” she replied, “but I’ve got such an advantage, you’re famous - Everyone’s talking about you! It’s like I’ve known you for years and yet… “ She looked into his eyes, they had hardened somewhat.

"You’ve barely known me a day,” she said softly, “I don’t want you not to love me, I just need you to be sure. Do you understand?” 

Bowie averted his gaze and frowned. “I’m not stupid, Roz,” he said bluntly. Rosalyn bit her lip. “I know,” she answered, but he wouldn’t look at her again. Rosalyn sat in silence for a time, she wasn’t sure what she should do next. She had always known him to be outgoing, but since she met him in person she had seen more depth and now thought he should come with a sticker that read: Handle with Care.

It was so odd, he always seemed to just shrug things off in interviews and stuff. But as she sat and watched him now, the rock star in him was not shielding him. He was sitting there as David Bowie the man, not the big star who could just flip you off and have you begging for more. Rosalyn felt bad, she’d hurt his feelings by telling him he didn’t have any.

Finally, Bowie looked at her and spoke. “Do you honestly think so little of yourself?” he asked her, a little angrily. Rosalyn was shocked, she raised her gaze to meet his and opened her mouth but nothing came out. It took several moments for his words to sink in, turning her entire point of view right around. She hadn’t hurt his feelings at all… “Who are you, Roz?” came Bowie’s voice again. 

“I … I’m nobody,” came her unsure reply, a look of realization on her face suddenly, “I’m a nobody and you deserve to be with someone better.” A tear trickled down her cheek, who was she kidding anyway? She wasn’t famous, she wasn’t rich…

Bowie sat back and studied her for a moment, his lips pursed in thought. “Now you’re insulting both of us,” he told her, “why don’t you try and see it from my point of view?”  Rosalyn sniffled and brushed away the tears that kept coming every time she blinked, she had to think back from the moment they first met. He had seemed rather hostile at first and even though he didn’t speak to her much, he’d been very nice to her.

Rosalyn managed a small smile, she’d done what anyone else would’ve done in her place, hadn’t she?

That’s when she figured she was wrong, who would just sleep on Bowie’s sofa and not steal things or take photos while he slept? She could have taken such advantage of him that could’ve got her lots of money from the press, but it had never even crossed her mind! All she was capable of thinking about, was his safety and she’d done everything she could to ensure it. She looked up and Bowie was searching her eyes instantly, he seemed to find what he was looking for and he smiled a little back at her.

“I’m sorry,” Rosalyn blushed, “I’m such an ass… Here I am ruining the most perfect moment of my whole life so far, you must think I’m an idiot.” 

Bowie touched her cheek right down to her chin. “Just a bit,” he teased with a cheeky grin. Rosalyn looked at him in mock horror. “Mean!” she scolded playfully. He laughed at her quietly and moved away from the table, taking up a curled-up position on the armchair. Rosalyn sat on the sofa closest to him, her damp hair reminding her she was wearing nothing but a towel.

“Does Mike have a bathrobe?” she asked after a moment had passed.

Bowie looked unsure for a second, then his eyes lit up. “I think there’s one in his bedroom,” he recalled, “or was it the hall closet?” His brow furrowed and Rosalyn stood up with a chuckle. “I’ll go look,” she smiled, walking slowly and deliberately sexy. One glance over her shoulder and she saw him watching her, his eyes trailed slowly up and their eyes met. Rosalyn smiled seductively, then turned and continued on towards the bedroom. As she passed the hall closet, she pulled it open but saw no bathrobes. She pushed open the bedroom door and gave a squeal of surprise as someone grabbed her from behind, giggling uncontrollably as she was suddenly pinned to the bed on her back.

“You scared the crap out of me!” she laughed, as Bowie nuzzled her throat and kissed her shoulder.

Suddenly, Bowie looked up at the doorway and Rosalyn followed his gaze. 

“What’re you doing in my bed?” asked a man, who was standing there and staring at them intently.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” came Bowie’s reply, suddenly looking quite sheepish. Rosalyn thought her face was going to catch on fire, her cheeks felt so hot! “Mike?” she whispered. Mike looked at her. “That’s right,” he said, “and you are?” 

Rosalyn blushed harder.  “This is Roz,” Bowie answered him, “we were just uhm… “  Mike held up his hands.

“I don’t wanna know,” he said with a smirk, “nice to meet you Roz. Now get your skinny, white butt out here and let’s catch up - I ain’t seen you for weeks, man!”  He turned and left the doorway, Rosalyn looked back at Bowie and they both broke down laughing.

A few moments later, the three of them sat around the living room on the sofa and armchairs. Rosalyn nudged Bowie with her elbow.

“You told me he was blind!” she hissed quietly. Mike’s gaze went right to her.

“Just because I can’t see,” he said to her, “doesn’t mean I can’t hear.”  Rosalyn blushed again.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “I just thought… ” Mike waved his hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a smile, “him and me go way back, any friend of Bowie’s is a friend of mine.”  Rosalyn smiled, relieved.

It was late in the evening when Mike left, Rosalyn had dried off her clothes and was now wearing them. Bowie was seated by the window, staring out of it silently and looking very much like he did when Rosalyn had first met him. She sat down beside him and he turned to look at her, which was a good sign because he didn’t seem distracted at all. “Everything alright?” she ventured, offering him a smile. Bowie returned his gaze to the window, watching the sun set behind some buildings.  “It’s too quiet,” he finally replied, pulling the shades closed and standing up, “let’s go out.”

Rosalyn stood up with him, following him to the door. “Okay,” she shrugged happily, “where to?”  

Bowie pulled open the door and they left the building together, walking in the fading light of the city streets. “My lucky bar,” replied Bowie, placing his arm around her, “where we met… ” Rosalyn stopped walking and Bowie went ahead a few paces, then stopped and turned back to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, walking back to be beside her again.

Rosalyn felt a shudder go down her spine. “Uh, you said the drinks tasted like shit there,” she said quickly, “maybe we should go somewhere else… “

Bowie looked a little puzzled. “I said that?” he asked, not clearly remembering much of that night. Rosalyn nodded.

“Yes,” she answered him, “you did.”  Bowie looked down as his hands were taken up into hers, Rosalyn gave them a gentle squeeze. His gaze lifted to hers and she smiled at him sadly, she didn’t want to go back there. Ever. 

“Alright,” he finally relented, “how about a night club?”  Rosalyn nodded. “Sounds great!” she beamed, “let’s go!” 

Hand in hand, they walked to the noisier part of the city. Bowie’s grip on Rosalyn’s hand tightened anytime they passed an alley, so she squeezed his right back and they eventually found a popular spot and went in.

The music was deafening, which just made Bowie grin so big that he showed his teeth as he led her through the dancing crowd. They made their way to a table together, squeezing through the maze of people who were just so lost in the music that they didn’t realize David Bowie was wriggling through them!  

“This is great!” Rosalyn breathed, straightening her hair, “I love it!”  Bowie smiled proudly like a Cheshire cat and leaned back in his chair, looking for someone he could order a drink from. A shifty looking guy approached them, Rosalyn felt a little wary of him but Bowie smiled at him slightly. Probably just being polite, thought Rosalyn.

“You two having a good time?” asked the guy.  Rosalyn nodded.  “How’s about a great time?” the guy asked, showing them some things that Rosalyn was certain were drugs of some kind. She was visibly mortified and opened her mouth to refuse, the guy hid the drugs and stepped away from her.

“How about you?” he asked Bowie, who looked a little more interested than his companion. “Well I … ” Bowie looked very interested, but he kept looking at Rosalyn’s face and was suddenly quite torn, “no, thank you.” 

The guy gave Rosalyn a dirty look but left and zeroed in some other people, Rosalyn was shocked. She tried to get over it, she knew he did drugs but she’d never actually seen him do any in person.

Bowie looked a little unsettled now, but Rosalyn couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You don’t need them you know,” she said to Bowie, “drugs I mean… ” Bowie’s gaze shifted from her to the dancers on the floor.

Rosalyn stood up and walked around the table, she took his hand and he looked up into her eyes as she pulled him to his feet. “Come on!” she encouraged him, “I wanna dance!”  Bowie went with her, reluctantly at first but suddenly the music slowed down and Rosalyn put her hands on his waist. They slow danced for a while, ending up in each other’s arms and their eyes closed as they moved slowly among the other people who were doing the same thing.

“This is nice,” Rosalyn said softly. Bowie looked at her and she was drawn to his smile, their lips met slowly in a small kiss that deepened when Rosalyn opened her mouth. His tongue slipped in and she sighed, her eyes closing and her hand slipping up under his shirt. Bowie moaned into the kiss, breaking away and trailing hot kisses down her throat to her shoulder. Rosalyn’s knees felt like giving way, she could feel his tongue against her bare flesh with each open mouthed kiss he placed upon her. Moments later they weren’t even dancing, she was up against a wall and they were kissing with a heated passion.

The loud music returned and spoiled the mood, they returned to their table looking a little disheveled. “Oh, wow,” Rosalyn suddenly grew pale, “it’s so late!”  Bowie stared at her blankly.  “We’ve got nowhere to go!”

Rosalyn explained, she couldn’t go back to Mike’s - That had been a little too awkward for her. Bowie looked thoughtful for a moment and then he suddenly smiled. “I know!” he stood up and took her hand, “let’s go to your place.” 

Rosalyn let him lead her out of the club and forced a smile. “My place?” her voice trembled, casting a longing glance back towards Mike’s.  “Yeah, it’ll be fun,” said Bowie with a smile.

Rosalyn reluctantly led the way. “Sure,” she said to herself quietly, “fun… “

But she was not convincing herself, she was taking home David Bowie and she was pretty sure her place was a messy disaster area! How very, very embarrassing….

Next Chapters

[forbiddenwords]

Could i request a fic with professor Jones based on "Say you won't let go" by james arthur? Maybe they share a dance and the song comes on the radio as he drives her home or something i dunno ha

[forbiddenwords]

Strangers When We Meet (Chapter 3)

Written By: luvbowieluvr Rated M for Strong sex scenes Trigger Warnings: Gun references Fandom: Real Person Fiction

During a terrible storm, a unlikely friendship forms between Bowie and an amazed fan who stumbles upon the star in an unusual place. But something isn’t quite right….

Previous Chapters

As soon as she felt the sun warming her face, Rosalyn forgot about the little tavern and tilted her head to allow the cool breeze to run through her hair. She was still holding Bowie’s hand as they walked up the ramp and onto the street. It was a beautiful day, despite the storm’s obvious havoc of felled trees strewn about the area.

Stepping over a fallen branch, she leaned into the rock star and he put his arm around her shoulder. Rosalyn slid her arm around his waist and they walked like two lovers on their way to be married. They stopped just outside of an alley to allow a cleanup crew to drive by, there was a lot to do after such a storm.

“Hungry?” ventured Bowie.

“I could eat,” grinned Rosalyn. Bowie smiled back.

“I know this great place,” he said. Rosalyn nodded, of course he did.

“Lead the way,” she gestured to the now clear road in front of them. Bowie turned to cross it, but a sound made them both hesitate. It sounded like a woman sobbing. “Help me,” she could be heard, her voice trembling with terror. Rosalyn looked at Bowie, who had taken several steps back.

“We should make sure she’s okay,” said Rosalyn, “we can’t just go. She may need an ambulance.” But Bowie just looked more skittish than ever and turned away.

“Oh come on,” urged Rosalyn, “she’s calling for help, she’s not going to hurt us.” Bowie looked back at Rosalyn, he clearly did not want to go into the alley and his demeanor told her as much.

“Roz,” he started, “what if it’s not safe?”

“All the more reason to help the poor woman!,” Rosalyn insisted, “what if she has an ill baby? Suppose she’s pregnant?”

Bowie fidgeted with his cigarette lighter before nervously taking a few tentative steps forwards again. “Alright,” he relented, “but I really think this is a bad idea.”

Rosalyn started walking towards the sobbing sound, Bowie hung back for a moment or two more before catching up to her and taking the lead. Rosalyn didn’t mind, but he really didn’t have to be so brave - it was just a sobbing woman.

“I don’t mean to take you out of your comfort zone,” she apologized, “big star like you should never have to walk into a back alley… ” She looked at him as he glanced back to her, again she saw a brief expression of hurt in his eyes but he masked it so quickly.

“I think we’re getting close,” he said softly.

The sobbing woman gasped at the sound of his voice. “Who is there?” she cried out, almost frantic with panic, “please d-don’t hurt me!”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Rosalyn called back, catching up to Bowie, who had stopped walking by then. She followed his gaze down to some trash cans, where a pile of rags suddenly turned into a bedraggled woman. She was filthy and her clothes were torn. She was bleeding from scratches all over her body and she was soaking wet.

“Oh my goodness!,” Rosalyn slowly walked towards her, “were you out in that storm last night?”

The woman nodded. “I was,” she shivered, still crouched into a ball, “but that’s n-not why I’m calling for help.”

“Then why..?” Rosalyn started to ask, but was interrupted by the snap of a twig. They all looked around and saw a man standing in the shadows, he had come out of hiding - and he had a gun. The sobbing woman screamed as the gunman stepped closer.

“What do you want?” demanded Rosalyn, trying to be bold but her voice was as shaky as her hands.

“Anything you got,” replied the man, calm and menacing, “money, jewellery… Bitch had nothin’ ” He gestured to the sobbing woman, who had apparently lost all her valuables in the storm. Rosalyn felt herself turn pale, she didn’t wear jewels and she certainly wasn’t carrying any money! The only thing of any value here was …

“David Bowie,” the man turned now to Bowie, “I know you.” A very sinister look came across his face. Bowie was looking quite like he was about to run for it, but he kept glancing at Rosalyn and her stomach sank as she realized he wouldn’t leave her to save himself.

“I could get loads for you,” the man went on, pointing his weapon at Bowie now, “never had a hostage before.” He seemed to be thinking about it, weighing his options. Rosalyn’s mind was racing almost as fast as her heart, how were they going to get out of this?

Almost as if on cue, the man started to lower his gun to the ground. His eyes stared past Bowie, to something unknown behind them. Rosalyn watched curiously as he placed the gun slowly onto the ground and started to back away, but what could have possibly made him do such a thing?

“Yo Bowie,” came a voice that made them both start, “y’alright dude?”

They turned at the same time, only to see another gunman - only his gun was a lot bigger. Rosalyn’s eyes grew big and Bowie swallowed a lump in his throat, nodding slowly with his gaze fixed on the gun.

“Good t’know,” said the latest arrival, keeping his sights aimed at the first gunman, “now git outta here.”

Rosalyn watched, stunned as the bedraggled woman stood up instantly and ran for her life, screaming hysterically. She snapped out of it and grabbed Bowie’s arm, pulling him along as she speed-walked to the street. Bowie stumbled at first, but soon matched her pace, not bothering to look back.

Quite a crowd had gathered by now, so Rosalyn had to do some pushing and squeezing through. At last they were walking again, side by side but not touching. Rosalyn felt so guilty, it was all her fault and she wouldn’t blame him if he ditched her right now. Or if he shouted at her, or anything at all.

“Are you really okay?” she repeated the question that had been asked before, but she searched his eyes for a more honest reply from Bowie, who had remained silent throughout the entire frightening ordeal.

“Nothing some new underwear won’t fix,” came his answer, but Rosalyn saw through the crooked smile to the sheer terror in his eyes.

“I am so, so sorry,” she apologized profusely, “I should never have made you come with me into that alley, it could’ve ended so much worse!”

“Roz,” Bowie stopped walking and turned to her, stopping her in her tracks, “we’re alive, you couldn’t have known that was going to happen… ” Rosalyn shook her head, the tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.

“But you did,” she whispered, “you didn’t want to go in there, you didn’t want to and I insisted!”

Bowie put his arms around her and drew her into his perfect embrace, Rosalyn felt so safe and warm in his arms and she knew she could have stayed there forever. She felt her shaking subside and realized that he was still shaking, how selfish had she been not to notice he was still terrified? Rosalyn drew back from him and looked into his eyes, she knew a good way to calm such fragile nerves.

She took him by the hand.

“Where can we be alone?” she asked him, giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

“We could go to Mike’s place,” Bowie suggested after a moment, “he’s never home.” Rosalyn nodded and let herself be led off to some tall apartment buildings. Once inside, Bowie took to the stairs and Rosalyn followed. “Who is Mike anyway?” she questioned him.

“A good friend,” replied Bowie, scanning the numbers on the doors as they walked along a hallway, “he won’t mind me coming here.”

“What about me?” asked Rosalyn, unable to stop herself from smiling as she watched him stand in front of a certain door and search his pockets for a key, “are you allowed to have a friend over?”

Bowie found the key, but it took him a few moments to get it into the lock - his hands were still trembling. Rosalyn felt another pang of guilt. The door opened and they stepped inside, locking it shut behind them.

“Of course,” replied Bowie, “don’t worry, he’s cool.“  He set the key down onto a glass coffee table and slowly sank into the large, plush sofa. Rosalyn settled down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and rubbing his thigh with her hand.

Bowie sighed and leaned back into the sofa, his trembling seemed to have almost vanished now. Rosalyn watched as his eyes closed, her hand creeping up under his shirt and she started to draw little circles on his bare chest with her fingers. He didn’t resist, so she ventured a little more by starting to kiss his neck and shoulder softly.

“Hmm,” Bowie murmured, “that feels nice.”

Rosalyn could feel him relax, she knew all along that familiar surroundings would help him tremendously and although they had both had a very scary ordeal only an hour or two ago, she could feel the tension lifting almost instantly now. Suddenly, Bowie opened his eyes and pulled away from her.

“I have to shower,” he said shortly, standing up and rushing off into the bathroom. Rosalyn was a little puzzled, had she done something to upset him? She heard the water running and slowly stood up, making her way to the bathroom and stepping inside. Closing the door behind her, she turned and raked his naked body with her eyes as the hot water streamed over him.

A nice, hot shower was good for the nerves but she also figured he might feel a little unclean from their encounter this morning too. Rosalyn looked sadly at Bowie, he was leaning against the wall and some slight shuddering racked his body every now and then. She walked over to him and stepped into the shower, placing one hand around behind him and cupping his face with the other to draw him into a kiss.

Bowie responded and kissed her right back, they drew apart for a moment and gazed into one another’s eyes. He looked down and smiled, then he gave a little chuckle. Rosalyn grinned back, but was stumped.

“What?” she beamed, “what’s so funny?”

“Your clothes,” replied Bowie. Rosalyn looked down.

“Oh!,” she chuckled too, “oh no, they’re soaked!.”  She quickly took them off and tossed them into the laundry basket, then turned back to Bowie and slid the shower door closed. Rosalyn looked at Bowie as the hot water ran over them both and he was admiring her body, running his hand down her side and over her thighs.

She leaned back against the wall and parted her legs as he slipped his fingers down into her sensitive area. Her mouth opened and she moaned, half of it muffled by his kiss as he captured her tongue with his own. Her arms wrapped around him as he slid two fingers deep inside of her, deepening the kiss with more passion than before.

His thumb began to touch a very particular place, just on the very edge of her clit and she broke the kiss to moan and buck her hips in response. “Roz,” Bowie breathed huskily, kissing her neck and shoulder with open mouthed kisses.

“I want you,” Rosalyn almost whimpered, “oh… God, I need you!” She gasped as his fingers were replaced with his erection pressing into her, she relaxed her muscles as she had earlier and allowed him to slide deep inside of her slowly, inch by inch.

Bowie moaned a familiar way and she knew he was fully within her now, she hitched one leg around his waist and gripped onto him tightly, their bodies pressed together under the beating water of the shower. Their lips met once more in a fiery duel of their tongues, Bowie supported her with one arm wrapped around her and one hand under her backside.

As he glided his long, thick shaft in and out of her, she matched his movements and then broke the kiss to throw back her head and call his name. He responded by sucking at her throat, tonguing and kissing with heated desire for more of her moans.

Rosalyn felt a build up and her cries of pleasure grew slightly higher in pitch, then became more animalistic as she shook almost violently into orgasm. Her inner muscles clamped and massaged Bowie’s hard member as they pulsed, causing him to lose himself in his own orgasm shortly after hers.

“Roz,” he breathed, then gave a short gasp right before he came deep inside of her, “oh… uhn… ” His breathing was rapid and short, but he held onto her as Rosalyn rode his orgasm with her second one. Out of breath, they both leaned against the walls of the shower.

After a moment of catching their breath, Rosalyn looked at Bowie and just adored him so much more.

Bowie was looking at her as if he’d just done something wrong, but she knew what he was thinking.

“If you were using me,” she assured him, “I was using you too.” Bowie chewed his bottom lip and smiled at her sheepishly.

“Twice in one day,” he said to her, “I don’t want you to think I’m a horn-dog.” Rosalyn smiled at him.

“Is that why you ran off to shower?” she asked him. He nodded and averted his gaze from her.

“Oh sweetie,” Rosalyn touched his face and he looked back at her, “if you get turned on by a woman touching you like I was, that doesn’t make you a horn-dog. It makes you a healthy, normal guy!” The smile she was rewarded with just then made her heart nearly stop. David Bowie didn’t want to be called a rock star, he just wanted to be … normal.

“Problem,” Rosalyn said softly. Bowie looked at her and inclined his head, then he smirked.

“You’ll just have to walk around the apartment nude,” he told her, “until your clothes are dry again.”

Rosalyn hit him playfully. “What if Mike comes back?” she asked.

Bowie shrugged. “Mike’s blind,” he answered.

A few moments later they were both seated at the table, Bowie fully clothed and Rosalyn wrapped in a bath towel.

“You’re just loving this, aren’t you?” she teased him.

Bowie shook his head. “I’m loving you,” he corrected her, making her heart miss a beat.

“What?” Rosalyn whispered.

Bowie placed his hand over hers, looking quite unsure of her reaction but very certain in what he was saying.

“I love you” he repeated.

Next Chapters

[forbiddenwords]

Strangers When We Meet (Chapter 2)

Written By: luvbowieluvr Rated M for Strong sex scenes Trigger Warning: Drug references Fandom: Real Person Fiction

During a terrible storm, a unlikely friendship forms between Bowie and an amazed fan who stumbles upon the star in an unusual place. But something isn’t quite right….

Previous Chapter

Warm and content, Rosalyn didn’t want to ever open her eyes. How could this moment ever end? She didn’t want it to, so she remained as still and as silent as she could. She had her ear pressed to Bowie’s chest, it rose and fell steadily with his breathing.

He was still fast asleep.

Rosalyn smiled against his warm skin, closing her eyes and allowing his heartbeat to lull her back to sleep.

When she next opened her eyes, she felt a sudden chill and instinctively reached out for him, but gathered only blankets in her hands. Pulling them around her, Rosalyn slowly sat up and looked around, bewildered.

Clearly Bowie had awoken and left her asleep, but had thought of her enough to cover her with a blanket before he had gone. Rosalyn could feel the sting of threatening tears well up in her eyes, had he really just gone without even saying goodbye?

“Get a grip, Roz,” she sniffled and cast the blankets aside angrily, “he’s David Bowie for crying out loud! Probably fucks a different woman every night… ”

She stood up and went around the small room, gathering up her clothes and putting them back on. Something tickled her cheek and she hesitated, touching a finger to her face and catching a single tear that had trickled down it. Crush be damned, she was in love.

Slowly, she sank back down onto the sofa and wept into her hands. She felt used and betrayed and to make it worse, she could still smell his aftershave all around where she sat. After a moment or two, Rosalyn got to her feet and slowly took one final look around the room. It was such a simple room, yet it had borne witness to the happiest moment of her life - As well as the saddest.

With a shuddered sigh she left the room and headed back downstairs, it was time to make that long walk home. As she descended the staircase she heard the drone of many voices, but she did not look around her this time. She knew that it was well after lunchtime, David Bowie was not going to be sitting there…

She found herself staring at his booth, her hand on the railing and one foot down in front of her.

And her heart started pounding.

There, right there in that same booth! Bowie sat and read a newspaper, his brow furrowed and his lips forming a straight line. Something made Rosalyn snap out of her trance as she cast a look towards the bar. The waitress was there too, shifting nervously and glancing to Bowie from time to time.

Rosalyn found her feet and hurried over to him, seating herself across from him quietly. He looked up over the paper, took a moment to register her face and smiled at her. It was such a huge relief for Rosalyn to see that recognition in his eyes, but she couldn’t help noticing the open bottle of alcohol sitting on the table.

“Roz!” Oh God that man’s voice was so sexy, “I was waiting for you.”

“Oh!,” Rosalyn felt so guilty now, she’d thought such awful things about him, “thanks… Um, why?“  She kicked herself mentally for asking, and she immediately regretted it when she saw the brief look of hurt on his expressive features. He placed a hand on the bottle and Rosalyn noticed he hadn’t taken so much as a mouthful yet, a quick glance to the waitress confirmed her fears. The waitress was poised, waiting with baited breath and staring at Bowie as he lifted the bottle.

Rosalyn could not think of any other way to stop him from drinking that alcohol, so she silently prayed his forgiveness as she lifted her foot and suddenly pressed it right between Bowie’s thighs. As expected, Bowie was quite startled and jumped, as planned the bottle flew from his hand and went crashing to the floor.

Rosalyn heard him as he swore and cursed under his breath, but was taken aback when she realized it was not Bowie but the waitress who was cursing. Bowie simply looked a little sheepish, but his eyes silently questioned Rosalyn’s motives. As the waitress finished cleaning up and left, Rosalyn finally let out a long breath of air. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it in until now.

Her cheeks burned as she noticed that people were staring, but it didn’t last too long and her gaze finally returned his.

“Warn me next time?,” came Bowie’s gentle scolding but his eyes danced playfully and she knew he was being flirty with her.

“I’ll pay for the drink,” she said quickly, but Bowie shook his head.

“It was free,” he told her, “the waitress just over there… ” He turned to point her out but Rosalyn shifted in her seat.

“I know which one she is,” she replied, uncomfortable, “so, you said you were leaving today?”

“Yes,” Bowie turned back to her, then glanced at his watch, “I should probably go.” Rosalyn nodded and it took her a full minute to realize he hadn’t moved yet. He looked uncomfortable now too, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“You uh, you wouldn’t want to come with me, would you?” he finally managed to talk to her again, and she found it endearing how he started to chew his bottom lip nervously. It made her smile and she inclined her head. What a darling!

“I would love to,” Rosalyn answered, cherishing his relieved expression, “can we leave? Right now?”

Bowie laughed and stood up, reaching his hand towards her. She took his hand and let him lead her out of the tavern. With a quick and happy last look over her shoulder, Rosalyn felt butterflies hit her stomach as her eyes met with the angry glare of the waitress - And she thought the bartender looked quite bemused as well….

Next Chapter

[forbiddenwords]

Strangers When We Meet (Chapter 1)

Written By: luvbowieluvr Rated M for Strong sex scenes Trigger Warning: Drug references Fandom: Real Person Fiction

During a terrible storm, a unlikely friendship forms between Bowie and an amazed fan who stumbles upon the star in an unusual place. But something isn’t quite right….

It was early evening and there was a light, mist of a rain. Dark clouds promised a heavier downpour later on, while thunder rumbled it’s own promise of a threatening storm to come. So far, there was no lightning, but the wind was picking up rapidly and a nervous tension filled the air as people hurried home and barricaded their doors and windows.

The shops were closing for the night, but some of the bars and taverns would remain open for a while yet. One little bar in particular was down a flight of stairs, it looked more like a bomb shelter than a speakeasy, but it was quiet and out of the way of any oncoming storm.

Inside, it was warm and the atmosphere was friendly. The food was good and the drinks even better, the music played softly in the background and people spoke in hushed tones so as not to disturb other conversations going on around them.

It was here that a man sat in a corner booth, his left hand holding a bottle of some kind of alcohol and his right hand placed upon his forehead. His elbow was on the table as he supported his head, his eyes were closed and anyone who might have glanced his way would be forgiven for passing him off as being in a drunken slumber.

One woman cast her eyes his way and as if on cue, a loud clap of thunder suddenly took everyone by surprise. It was followed by a bright flash of lightning that stole the lights for a moment and when they flickered back on, the man’s eyes were as wide open as everyone else’s.

“Fuck,” he could be heard only by those closest to his booth, as he dried off his trousers with a napkin. He had been startled by the thunderclap and spilled his drink, much to his dismay as he examined the empty bottle with contempt. His gaze was distracted momentarily by a bedraggled figure standing in the doorway, having come in from the rain and quickly closing the door behind them.

It was a young woman, soaked to the skin and not looking too happy about it. He watched as she scanned the room, found the open fireplace and quickly made her way towards it. His gaze cast down to the wet floor, but a cleaner had already started to work on it with his mop.

The storm raged furiously outside, but soon the little tavern resumed its lulling chatter and laughter as the tempest wailed on outdoors. They were perfectly safe down here, there really was no need for alarm at this point.

Shivering, but warmed by the flames of the open fireplace, the young woman once again scanned the room. She seemed to be looking for a group of people to join, but most of the seats were taken by now as quite a few people had taken refuge from the storm.

She spied a booth with just one person sitting in it and picked her way over to the man who was still watching her, though she hadn’t noticed and he seemed a little hazy anyway. “Mind if I sit here?” she asked, not waiting for his reply, seating herself in the booth just across from him.

A heating vent blew all around the two and the woman smiled. “I can see why you chose to sit here,” she tried to engage the man in conversation, but he just frowned and eyed his empty bottle.

The woman’s smile faded slightly, but she didn’t give up. “They say it’s easier to talk to a stranger about your troubles,” she offered kindly, she felt somehow drawn to this man and felt the urge to help him forget about whatever was bothering him.

That’s when she realized who she was talking to, his eyes lifted to hers and she took in a quick breath. They were mismatched, beautiful and frightening at the same time.

David Bowie.

She tried to keep her composure, the last thing she wanted to do was start gushing like some fangirl.

He looked bemused with her offer, quite annoyed, in fact. The awkward moment of silence that followed was abruptly broken by a waitress, who had walked over to them casually. “I saw you spill your drink,” she addressed Bowie as if he were just some ordinary blow in off the street, “can I get you another?”

“No thanks,” Bowie’s gaze never left the woman seated opposite him. She noticed a look of frustration on the waitress’ face as she walked away.

Odd.

“Tasted like shit anyway,” Bowie remarked as an afterthought, but the waitress had already gone.

This comment also struck the woman as odd, this place had quite a reputation for its liquor being the best in town. Her attention was brought back to David Bowie, who was absently staring at her. She waited for a few moments, before she finally spoke.

“So,” she said softly, not wanting to startle him. But startle him she did, because she had not realized that the place had fallen eerily silent around them. He drew back with a start and his good eye focused a little, then he averted his gaze and mumbled a short apology for having stared at her for so long.

“No, it’s okay,” the woman told him quickly, “I could tell you were a million miles away.”

Her compassion was rewarded as his eyes met hers once again and he offered one of his famous, easy going smiles. It wasn’t forced nor false, just a simple crooked smile that was almost always just a little bit cheeky.

Around them the small tavern had slowly emptied as people called cabs and went home, it was getting late and the storm showed no signs of settling down anytime soon. A loud screech of tires on wet road had them both glancing out the window, watching through the torrential rain as taxi drivers struggled to keep their cabs on the road, fighting the buffering gale-force winds trying to knock them off the slippery lanes.

“You’ll have to leave soon ma’am,” a voice drew them back into the tavern and the woman looked around to see the waitress had returned, “we’re closed in five minutes.” She walked away and continued to collect the dishes from the other tables, but she was doing it very slowly.

The bartender was busy cleaning the bar with a rag, he seemed either oblivious to Bowie’s presence or was quite happy to just let him sit there for as long as he needed to. A feeling of dread suddenly washed over the woman, she hadn’t expected to stay so long. She didn’t have money for a cab, or any other way home other than walk in that terrible storm outside.

She became suddenly aware of Bowie rising to his feet, she couldn’t help feeling a little deflated as she watched him get up to leave. “See you … uhh …. ” he hesitated, searching her face as though he believed he should already know her name.

“Rosalyn,” replied the woman, offering a small smile. Bowie looked relieved. “See you, Roz,” he turned and Rosalyn couldn’t resist checking out his cute butt as he headed upstairs. Of course he would have a room here, that wasn’t so surprising. The storm had been brewing all day, he had thought ahead and she hadn’t.

Rosalyn sighed heavily and slumped back into her seat, her eyes rolled to the ceiling in despair. What was she going to do? A glimmer of light caught her attention, a reflection of something but what? Looking down she saw no glass or bottle on the table, so she got up and checked Bowie’s seat.

“Oh!,” she felt a little panicked for him, as his room key was sitting there on the seat and he had already left. She scooped up the key into her hand and headed upstairs to try and find him. It didn’t take her long, he was standing outside his door and searching his pockets for the key to his room.

Rosalyn noticed amusedly that the expression on his face was not one of confusion or worry, but of optimism. Like, he knew the key was here somewhere, he just had to find it. She approached him slowly, so as not to alert him and she slipped the room key into his jacket pocket.

His hand slid into that same pocket just seconds later and his expression turned to one of triumph as his searching fingers located the elusive key. Once he was inside, however, he left the door wide open and the key still in the lock. Rosalyn was puzzled, it wasn’t like him to be so careless. In fact, he’d been behaving a bit strangely since she walked into the tavern.

She put it down to his perhaps being drunk, though she found it just as puzzling that he didn’t stumble or stagger when he walked. He just looked … Distracted. Rosalyn pulled the key out of the lock and slowly closed the door behind her, entering his room nervously and her heart skipped a beat as she heard it click, locked shut behind her.

Placing the key onto a small hook in the wall, Rosalyn took in her surroundings. It was a simple, yet somehow lavish little room with everything in it - including a little stove to cook with. A door closed and she realized she was in luck, Bowie had gone to bed and she was free to take up residence on his sofa for the night.

She found the warmth within the small room comforting and after finding a blanket, she made herself comfortable on the sofa and closed her eyes. But her sleep was interrupted during the night, at first she thought it might have been a thunderclap or a flash of lightning and she tried to go back to sleep.

After a moment she realized something was wrong and sat up slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness around her. One glance around the room and she knew why she felt so peculiar - the door was open. She was sure she’d heard it click locked behind her, hadn’t it?

Her gaze cast to the key, still hanging on the hook, untouched. So Bowie hadn’t left, that could only mean … Someone had come in! Rosalyn’s heart began to race, what should she do? Check on him! She quickly got up but stopped short, his bedroom door was slightly ajar.

Trying to calm herself down she listened intently, her heart hammering in her ears. She heard hushed whispers coming from Bowie’s bedroom, but they didn’t sound friendly at all. Rosalyn approached the door, trying to hear what was being said. She was startled by a soft thump, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle her startled noise.

“Shh!” came an angry hiss, “I told you he didn’t finish his drink! He might not be as drugged as we planned… ”

Rosalyn recognized that voice, it was the waitress! But what was she doing in here? A moan from Bowie brought her back to the situation at hand, it sounded like he was trying to wake up. Someone swore, there was another soft thud and an angry growl.

“Who’s there?” Bowie asked, suddenly awake but still hazy, his voice a little slurred.

A moment later Rosalyn was almost knocked over, as two people ran quickly out of the room and down the hall. She peered around the doorway, she could see the confused rock star sitting up in his bed and she could tell he was completely naked as his blankets fell about him.

“Hello?” he called again, looking around a little.

Rosalyn remained silent, hoping he’d lay down and go back to sleep. Eventually, he did and Rosalyn went back to the sofa and somehow found herself fast asleep once more. The next time she woke up, it was to the sound of something spitting on the stove. It smelled like bacon and sausage.

“You like eggs?” came a question that caught her off-guard. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Huh?” she blinked and frowned, trying to process the situation.

“Do you like eggs?” came the question again, and she looked over the sofa into the small kitchen area.

David Bowie was making breakfast, his back was turned to her and he wore nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair was wet and his feet were bare, suggesting he’d just showered and hadn’t bothered to dress yet.

“Umm, no,” came her sleepy reply, “thank you.. ” She yawned and Bowie shrugged.

“Me either,” he stated simply, and continued to finish making breakfast.

Rosalyn made her way sheepishly to the table, he didn’t seem to mind her presence at all. A look of realization came across her face, had he left the key on purpose? Always thinking ahead, she smiled to herself, he felt weird and left his key with her as a precaution - in case something went wrong in the night.

“Are you okay?” she ventured.

A plate was set down in front of her. “Yes,” replied Bowie, seating himself across from her and starting to eat, his eyes meeting hers after a short time, “did we…?”

Rosalyn was lost for a moment as his eyes searched hers for an answer to his unasked question, her gaze falling upon his well-defined chest. “Oh!” her eyes flew back to his own, “no, nothing like that.. ” She felt herself blushing but he just gave her his easy smile again.

“Then I must apologize,” he said, easing himself up again, “excuse me. ”

He vanished into his bedroom and returned fully clothed.

Rosalyn tried to hide the disappointment from her face, though she noted the storm had blown itself out overnight. She was free to go home, but reluctant to leave him. Should she tell him of the plot that had been conspired against him last night? She couldn’t leave him without saying anything, he might stay another night and become a helpless victim of whatever that waitress and her accomplice had planned for him.

“So I guess you’ll be leaving this morning?” she asked him casually, perhaps she didn’t need to tell him after all.

“Yes,” he answered, “just after lunch.”   Rosalyn’s shoulders sagged with relief and she made her mind up that she would stay close to Bowie until he was safely out of this place. He rejoined her for breakfast and later they sat on opposite sofas. Rosalyn had a coffee, Bowie had some Japanese tea.

“You look uncomfortable,” Rosalyn noted, watching him shift from time to time.   

“Tension,” Bowie replied, “hurts like hell.“   

“Oh! I can help,” Rosalyn was up and standing behind him without a moment’s thought or hesitation, “I took classes a while ago, here.. ” She started to massage his shoulders, he really was very tense.

Bowie was a little rigid at first, her sudden movement had taken him by surprise but he soon started to relax and even closed his eyes. “Better?” asked Rosalyn, as his head leaned back and his eyes opened to meet hers.   

“Much better,” he said quietly, though now his expression was searching and he seemed to be asking her a question but his lips did not move.

As he gazed up at her, Rosalyn stared back down into his eyes and tried to remind herself just who this was, but oh, he looked so inviting… Before she realized it, she had leaned down and her lips were hovering at the corner of Bowie’s mouth, hesitant in her approach in case she had her signals crossed.

Again she was rewarded but this time it was with his hand cupping the back of her neck, it brought her closer and their lips met with a soft, yet fiery passion that promised more if it went on for too long. She sighed as his tongue slipped into her mouth, deepening the kiss with a soft moan that made her feel hot when she heard him.

Breathing heavily, the kiss was broken just long enough for her to join him on the sofa and their embrace was more fiery and passionate than before. She bit down on his bottom lip and was encouraged by the muffled sound he made, indicating he didn’t mind it. He lay down slowly onto his back, pulling her so that she straddled him and they lay chest to chest, kissing with lust filled moans of desire.

Rosalyn started to thrust her hips a little, feeling his hard member rub against her through their clothes. She reached down and tugged at his belt, he broke the kiss and looked at her for a moment. “Are you sure?” he asked huskily. She nodded and before long their clothes had been strewn about the place.

Now it was flesh against flesh and it felt even better, she was so wet by now that she just wanted him deep inside of her, right now! But there was a sense of doubt as she gazed at his engorged manhood, she estimated it to be somewhere between 9 and 10 inches long, and she was sure that if she wrapped her fingers around it, her fingertips wouldn’t have a hope in meeting her thumb-tip.

“It’s too big,” she worried, her breathing still heavy with desire and lust. Bowie sat up and gently pushed her down into the sofa onto her back. She arched into him as he started to tongue her hot, wet sex. She moaned and bucked as he became rhythmic and relentless, tonguing her clit before diving deep inside of her and tasting her core. She felt a build up and shook with orgasm, calling his name as the waves of pleasure washed over her repeatedly until she slowly came down and gasped for breath.

By now Bowie was so hard it almost hurt, she could see it in his face and wanted to relieve him. She pushed him back down into the sofa onto his back and mounted him, ever so slowly. Inch by inch she let him in deeper and deeper, slowly relaxing and not once did she feel him thrust into her with impatience. She gazed down at him and his eyes glittered with passion, lust, desire…. His eyes closed and he moaned, she knew then that he was all the way inside of her so she began to slide up and down his rigid member.

Bowie threw back his head, he arched into her but he was careful and didn’t hurt her. His thrusts soon matched her rhythm and she leaned down, taking one of his hard nipples into her mouth. She washed around it with her tongue, feeling his chest rise towards her as a stifled moan escaped Bowie’s lips. She bit softly and he gasped audibly, his rod throbbing inside of her as he thrust a little more convulsively. “Yess, oh … oh yess… mmm … “

A secret pleasure spot, how delicious…  She continued to bite his nipple, soothing it with a wash of her tongue every so often and then moving to the other one to do the same. “Roz… Roz!”  He grasped her hips and with a few final thrusts, he came inside of her almost violently, “ohhh… “  but it didn’t hurt, in fact it hit a certain way that made Rosalyn orgasm all over again.

She collapsed on top of him, they were both breathing quite hard now and Rosalyn could feel his heart hammering in time with hers. No words were spoken after that, she lay her head on his chest and they both dozed off into a hazy, contented slumber.

Next Chapter

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Omg. That gif. It has given me life. Whats it from?

It’s from the TV series The Hunger (not to be confused with the 1983 film The Hunger); Bowie starred as Julian Priest in the series’ second season. The gif was made by co-admin allthenobodyppl in case you want to use it and credit.

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I feel like I just found the best secret watering hole ever!

Cheers to that.