#also like 2 blocks from my work there were police lights and i got up there to see a car crashed into a fence with the cop nearby | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

latenightsimping · 1 year ago

Text

THE EDGE

“...There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who’ve gone over.” - Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels

Summary: A part of the deal to freedom included a stay at Pennhurst. It’ll take everything to keep the hope that one day the locked doors will open, the windows will no longer have bars that block the view, and that one day, the name Eddie Munson will be synonymous with the word ‘innocent’. The hope, he never realised, would also come to be synonymous with your name.

Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: angst, heavy themes of inpatient treatment/hospitalisation, heavy themes of mental health, institutional deprivation of liberties, body injuries, mentions of suicidal ideation, themes of institutional abuse, can be a dark read (continue with that in mind, look after yourselves), canon divergence, Eddie survives the demobat attack, post-S4 timeline, slow burn romance, eventual smut, 18+, eventual fluff

Chapter warnings: angst, hurt (no comfort), bittersweet feelings, it's a difficult one ngl but I'll make it better I swear lmao, reader is described as having scars but no specifics, story tags still apply

AN: Ayy another chapter done. I'll try and find time to keep updating, but bear with me as I switch between this, other oneshots, and my own personal work. To those who follow along, thank you. This is such a passion project, and I'm loving the story so far.

October, 1984

It all still feels like one horrific nightmare. You’ve still got blood in your hair, staining your skin, with no idea who it belonged to. For a while, the pain had vanished, as you clawed your way to a nearby road. Perhaps a leftover survival mechanism passed down the generations. But now, now you couldn’t ignore the agony that your wounds created. The gashes that would forever disfigure you, a reminder that would become apparent every time you looked in the mirror. For now, covered with clean white bandages. You had no idea what it looked like beneath them, and you weren’t ready to look anyway.

Everyone had looked at you with such vitriol that made you want to wither into nothing. The doctors and nurses were doing the absolute bare minimum for your care, giving you minimal pain meds and spending as least time with you as humanly possible. The steel handcuffs that clasped your wrist and secured you to the hospital bed were starting to chafe, but you knew better than to say anything. Not like anybody would care, or even do anything about it. You knew the police officer that sat outside your door from high school, someone that had graduated when you were a sophomore. Harmon, you think his last name was. Either way, he hadn’t said anything to you yet. Not even made an appearance, just sitting himself down and reading the newspaper. You couldn’t see it, but you wondered if your name was in the news yet. Unlikely, considering everything had only happened a couple of hours ago. You prayed for it never to happen, but it was unlikely anyone up there was listening anyway.

Someone came through the door and stopped by the end of your bed, a small notebook in one hand and pen in the other. Horned rimmed glasses framed eyes that bore into you, a squint that conveyed the disgust he had for you. He was dressed in a police uniform, the Hawkins P.D badge on his chest slightly glinting under the fluorescent lights. Callahan, the name badge opposite it said. You’d seen him around town, but had never crossed paths with him until tonight.

He said your name with a tone that told you he’d rather be anywhere else than here. You nodded in affirmation, as he looked down at the notepad, pen tapping against the pages.

“Wild night you’ve had,” he drawled, a slight sneer as he shook his head. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

For a moment, you said nothing. How could you possibly begin to explain it all? It was all such a blur, time doubling in rate with no hope of slowing. Your gaze lowered to the thin blanket that covered you, free hand picking at the off white fibres. “I don’t know.” Your voice was quiet, far away. You didn’t sound like yourself.

A scoff. “You expect me to believe that?”

Another pause. No, you didn’t. You expected absolutely nobody to believe you.

“We’ve found two bodies so far,” he continued. “Are we going to find any more?”

You shook your head. They’d found Cynthia and Scott. Cynthia was your friend since Kindergarten, your neighbour that you grew up with. Your best friend, who never judged you. Scott had started dating her when you were all sixteen, and you actually liked him. Thought he was good for her. Thought they’d end up the childhood sweethearts that actually stuck together through life; would get married, have 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. Get a dog, and live a boring but fulfilling life.

Where had it all gone so wrong?

“Done any drugs tonight?” Callahan asked, though he sounded like he already knew the answer, and way just testing you to see if you were going to lie about it.

“I uh, smoked some weed,” you admitted, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eye. You still felt fuzzy around the edges, but it was wearing off all too quickly. “Drank some beers.”

“Nothing else?” he asked you. “Hallucinogens, PCP, anything like that?”

“No.”

You swore you saw an eye roll, though his glance away was helping to conceal it. “We’re going to be testing your blood, you know. Easier to just admit everything now, rather than it coming up in court later. I’m tryna’ help you here.”

No, you aren’t, you wanted to say. You’ve decided I’m guilty. And you want to lock me up to rot.

You could barely remember the rest of the interview. A lot of “I don’t know,” and “I can’t remember.” You can remember being sent to the place that terrified you as a child, though. Family horror stories of a great Aunt who went in and never came back out. You remember crying every night for the first six months, only for nobody to comfort you. You remember having to clamp down on your emotions, to bury them deep and hope they never resurface.

You can’t remember your parents ever visiting you.

August, 1986

The sweltering heat of Indiana summers were finally starting to break, cooler air filtering through the iron bars of the gaps of the slightly opened windows of the dayrooms and cutting the thick scent of sweat and cleaning products. You and Eddie had engaged in small talk during the countless games of cards, and you’d learned quite a fair bit about him. You learned he liked pickles on his burgers. His favourite album was still up in the air, citing that “you just couldn’t do that, it’d be like admitting you have a favourite child.” His favourite colour was red and black, leading to a couple of hours of heated conversation about black being technically a shade, not a colour. He missed being able to play electric guitar, but there was something about the ward’s battered acoustic that he appreciated.

And in return, you’d shared the tiniest amounts that you hoped sated him. Safe little facts that couldn’t be used against you. And to his credit, he never pried. Instead, he did what he was best at. Talking enough for the both of you, when your social battery wasn’t at its fullest.

“I swear man, Miller’s got something going on at home,” he mumbled under his breath as his eyes bounced between the project in his hand and the Doctor that seemed to be in the middle of an under-the-breath argument with an orderly on the other side of the dayroom door. Time had been allotted for arts and crafts, or rather, whatever shit they could throw in a box that could vaguely be suited for the occasion. Dried up glue and mangled pipe cleaners, a box of googly eyes that Eddie had pocketed for ‘later use’, and egg cartons that were probably older than you. But you’d found some lengths of different coloured string and a pair of the bluntest craft scissors known to mankind, and had decided on weaving them together to make bracelets. Eddie had decided to join in, and after a crash course in the most basic braids you knew, you were both winging it in trying to make something that wouldn’t just fall apart.

You looked up from the strands of black, red and white that you held in your hands to follow his eyeline, shaking your head as you spared a glance at the man opposite you. “She still givin’ you shit?”

You knew full well about the meetings he had with her, from the venting he always did afterwards. Apparently, medium security was a privilege, not a right. As if Eddie was capable of doing any harm with what little means he had in here. Fuck, you saw him shed a tear when you watched Bambi together not last week. It had only been a month, but you were absolutely positive of one thing, given you’d had enough time to make your own conclusions. Eddie wasn’t capable of his charges. Not for a second.

You expected him to frown at your question, but instead, a lopsided smirk played upon his lips. “Same as always, but nah. I’m talkin’ about what I overheard one of the nurses mention about her.”

You couldn’t help but snicker as you continued braiding. “Really, Munson? What’re you, a housewife at a damn Tupperware party?”

“Hey, I’d look fuckin’ fantastic in a pair of heels and a flouncy dress, thank you very much sweetheart,” he playfully chided, pointing at you with faux accusation and making you chuckle. “But seriously. Apparently, someone found a bottle of vodka stashed in the filing cabinets in the records room. And apparently, there’s only a handful of people that have access. She’s one of them.”

Finishing the last knot of the makeshift bracelet, you looked up to give Eddie your full attention. You had to admit, he was pretty. The long hair, full lips and rounded eyes were a given, yes. But it was the way that he looked at you, how much kindness he gave you, that sealed the deal. The way he would duck his head to make eye contact with you when your eyes felt glued to the floor. When you felt like all hope was lost, stuck in your own misery with no way out, a large hand would be felt on your shoulder, a slight touch that didn’t push your comfort levels. His shit jokes that cheered you up, and the fact that he seemed to know just what to say to make you feel better. In another life, you might have asked him on a date at one point. Maybe to get milkshakes, or to see a movie. But those ideas were bitterly shoved back down, when you remembered where you were. That’d never be an option. Not again.

You rolled your eyes as you leaned back in your chair, fiddling with the length of woven bracelet as you raised an eyebrow. “So you think she’s drinking on the job?” you asked, pulling the conversation back to something nonchalant. Before you had a chance to think of him in any way other than a friend.

“I think she’s doing a lot of things on the job, and caring for people ain’t one of them,” he muttered with a slight sneer. His demeanour seemed to change with the final touches of his own craft project, a triumphant look crossing his face as he held it between his fingers. “Here, gimme your arm.”

You shot him a look of confusion as you crossed your arms instead. “Why?”

“So I can yank it out of its socket and use it as an improvised weapon,” he drawled, sarcasm heavy on the words. “Just trust me, alright?”

You did trust him. Or at least, trusted him better than anyone in the whole building. “You’re a sick puppy, y’know that?” you chuckled, holding out your arm on the table.

“So I’ve been told,” he answered, tone ever so slightly taking on an edge of bitterness that you noted. Calloused fingertips brushed the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, and it took everything within you not to shiver at the sensation. The softness averting your eyes to the window past his shoulder, your inner critic beating down whatever sticky feelings got caught in your ribs at a deep inhale. Get it the fuck together for Christ sake, he’s just-

“Aaaand done.” You looked back to see that lopsided grin of his, though his eyes betrayed him with a slight sense of panic at what you guessed to be the impending sense of rejection. “You like it?”

You finally allowed your eyes to dip down to your arm, twisting it to get a better look. Purple, blue and lilac threads had been twisted haphazardly into what could technically be considered a braid, though on every fourth or so knot, it twisted at the seams and knocked all uniformity right out of it. But a part of you hoped it was made with intention. The same intention that middle school girls gave them, when they swore up and down to be best friends forever to the other girls they’d bonded with at summer camp, only to forget their names in the next couple of years. The same that still rattled around your old jewellery box back at home, buried under tacky hoops and cheap pendants that teenage you liked wearing. You still remembered the pale pink half of a heart that you kept there, on a chain that’d seen better days. The other half at Cynthia’s house, hanging on her notice board underneath a picture of you two together, smiling at the lake five summers ago.

Friendship. A word that up until now, had lost all meaning to you. Something that was beginning to spark, though the rockiness and unease of having it for a long time was throwing you off balance. Something that was being offered, and you were so starved for it, you let yourself believe it. Even if it was fake, you’d take it.

You let the smile that graced your lips grow wide, as you nodded your approval. “Bit of a bold colour choice, but I dig it,” you shrugged, your tone taking any malice out of the words.

“Yeah well, I’m not exactly in a position to waltz on down to Hobby Lobby to get the perfect shades or anything,” he snorted, now idle fingers seeking stimulation by opening a new pack of cigarettes. “Cut it off if you don’t want it.”

And there it was. That slight drop to his smile, as his eyeline averted. No doubt already trying to soothe the sting of assumption, to protect his dignity. Laugh the pain away, don’t let anyone see into it. This was about more than a seemingly simple act of kindness, and you knew the feeling well. God, you wanted to soothe it. Make it go away for him. Because it would be a damn sight easier cheering him up than the sheer amount of effort it’d take to try and do the same to yourself.

But it needed to be carefully done. Replied to with the same jest, play the same game right back, otherwise the raw vulnerability would cause him to clam right back up again. “Nah, I’m keeping this sucker. Really makes my eyes pop, don’t ya think?”

You both shared a look of amusement, before your hand darted out before thinking. You noticed the way he flinched, and again, the inner critic was back with the whip to flagellate yourself with at the ready. You willed it away by turning your hand around, an open palm rather than a grasping claw. “My turn?” you offered, hoping the look on your face didn’t give off the desperation you felt.

You noticed the way his expression morphed, brows furrowed and lip darting out to moisten his lips, as he usually did when he was thinking in rapid motion about something. It relieved you to see his arm come into view, elbow to the deep gouges of the wooden table, an offering of his scarred wrist. You noticed the way his muscles tensed if the pads of your fingers brushed one of them, and you were careful not to make too much contact in securing the bracelet, pulling away when you were done to a respectable distance. Letting him bring his limb back to assess the new adornment, wrinkles around his eyes fading slightly and crinkling into a smirk as he picked at the fibres. A hum of acknowledgement, of endearment, rattled around his chest as he looked back up to you. “Same colours as Hellfire.”

Hellfire. You remembered that name, and you rattled your brain for the memory. “That’s the club you had, right? The one you had with your friends?”

“Yeah.” He fiddled with the smooth braids, rubbing the tip of his thumb back and forth across the length. You noticed how his voice had taken an edge to it as he shrugged, seemingly to shake off an intense emotion.

You wondered if the memories of the group was sinking him back into the realisation that he’d most likely never have a meetup with them again. Never have that sense of normalcy, of feeling a part of something. You knew full well that remembering could be a dangerous thing. Something that should be avoided, lest you fall trap to the longing of your freedom, sending yourself mad with the knowledge that things would never indeed be normal again.

You were still thinking of something to say, a distraction, when Eddie’s name was called from the hallway. His neck nearly snapping with the force of him looking over with a shocked expression, as the orderly grimaced at him as he beckoned him over with two fingers. With a glance at the clock, you noted the time, and something uncomfortable settled in your stomach as you waved the orderly in the room for a lighter. You’d seen a couple of people over the years be summoned around this time, to a part of the building you knew you’d probably never see. You didn’t want to give Eddie the heads up, just in case you were wrong, and this was all just mere coincidence. You bolted that heavy mask to your face as you swung your chair on it’s back two legs, a balancing act as you waited for your turn with the sacred lighter.

“Better hope Miller hasn’t picked up on your suspicion about the records room,” you smirked as you waggled your eyebrows, a sarcastic laugh volleyed back your way as he got up to cross the room. You spared him one last glance as his shoulders slumped, head down and eyes glued to the floor as he trailed behind the staff member. For all his bravado that he was slowly getting back, you knew that was the true Eddie. A man caged against his will, and the strength long since stripped away from him. A husk of a person, just like everyone else in here. Just like you.

You just prayed that for his sake, your assumption was correct.

In Pennhearst, knowing where you were going wasn’t exactly something that got shared often. An orderly would begrudgingly call out a last name, and with a jerk of the head, you were just expected to follow behind. At first, it had scared Eddie something fierce. Long were the days of coming and going where he pleased; in school, it was common for him to just wander out of the building for a smoke, and classes were optional in his mind. Part of the reason he could never graduate. Why bother going into a room where you’d be belittled? Where a label was instantly placed on you, and where it stuck no matter how hard you tried to shift it. He’d practically had ‘troublemaker’ stamped on his head since his Junior year. So why even bother?

A trick he learned was to look at the signs, commit them to memory. Try and figure out a map in your mind, and follow it. The orderly in front of him had passed left at the laundry room, and past the West wing bathrooms. He’d lost track of where he was since the right hand turn by the low security ward doors, and he was going down the corridor blind. Asking wouldn’t help. He wasn’t expecting an answer anyway.

The sight of a battered sign that seemed to be straining free of the plaster caught his eye, craning his head back to see it. The two words seemed foreign to him. A feeling that he knew them, knew the meaning, but hadn’t seen them put together before. The two words that both made his heart skip a beat and his stomach to churn in anticipation and excitement.

VISITOR ROOMS 1-5

It ached how much he was wanting them to stop at one of the doors. How much he needed them to. He started praying to anything and everything, things he didn’t believe in, right up until the man in front of him stopped at the door with a number three painted on the front. His hand stayed on the handle, and over his shoulder, Eddie could just make out a window that most likely let staff keep an eye on the patients without having to enter. He could just make out the fabric of a deep blue denim jacket in the bottom left corner, before it shifted and moved out of sight.

“You’ve got five minutes,” the orderly growled through gritted teeth, finally making eye contact with a venomous glare. “Any funny shit, and your ass is getting thrown into solitary so fast it’ll make your head spin. Am I clear?”

Eddie’s tongue darted out of his mouth to moisten cracked lips, nodding fervently as his hands clawed at his issued shirt to ground him. It took the raised brow of the man in front of him, a sign that he was quickly losing patience, to make him respond verbally. “Y-yessir. I understand.”

With one last glance into the room, the door opened, and Eddie was ushered inside. His breath getting stuck between his ribs as he took in the sight of two faces he thought he’d never see again.

Dark blue eyes, and a gruff face marred with wrinkles and tanned from the sun. A face with the expression that reminded him of being ten years-old, when he was just a kid with a bruise on his cheek and tears that wouldn’t stop falling. The hand of the social worker on his back doing nothing to comfort him, but the look of ‘I get it kiddo, I understand. You’re safe now’ that was worn by a man that looked so similar to his Dad but didn’t have any resemblance at the same time. And like the kid he once was, a sob bullied its way out of his throat as he rushed into the open arms of the one parental figure that never beat him, bellitled him, or expected anything more of him than trying as hard as he could.

The hug was crushing from both parties, with how Eddie clung to his Uncle Wayne, and how those solid arms around his chest added the pressure he so sorely needed. Gave him a reminder of just how much human contact he’d been starved of for five months, and how much he needed it more than oxygen. If Wayne was bothered by the way he buried his face into the older man’s neck and wracked out stifled cries, he never said anything. The large palm that cradled the back of his head seemed to encourage it, as if he knew this was what his nephew needed.

It seemed like an eternity, time suspended in the air, until firm hands carefully grasped his shoulders and tenderly pushed. Eddie relented, a hand flying up to wipe away as much snot and tears as he could. He recognised the next look that he was given, too. A look of pure worry, as Wayne’s eyes flitted from feature to feature. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he had access to some sorry excuses of polished metal as mirrors in this place. Dark circles practically tattooed onto heavy eye bags from the lack of sleep, features getting gaunt as stubble tried to force itself through the skin. Eyes no longer shining like they used to, now replaced with a soulless stare. Once, when he stomached a flash of eye contact in the mirror, he was reminded of his Mom. The way she looked after a blowout fight with his old man, when she lay in bed and cried for what seemed like hours.

“Eddie… You uh- you look good man,” another voice said quietly from his right, causing his head to snap violently towards the noise.

Dustin’s mop of curls were hard to mistake for anyone else's, the fondness in his facial features still the same as they were before. That certain look about him that occasionally glimmered underneath it all, the one that gave away that he’d grown far too fast for a kid his age. Had seen too much, and had to deal with far too much burden for a grown man to carry, let alone a fifteen year-old. The comment made Eddie gargle a sort of chuckle, hesitantly pulling away from his Uncle to wrap the kid up in an iron grip. He was happy to feel it returned with fervour, rocking his friend as he swayed with each bounce on the ball of his foot.

“I look like shit,” he weakly responded, making Dustin laugh as he squeezed even tighter. How long had he waited for this moment? To see someone from the outside, and to know that they were as happy to see him as he was to see them. That they wanted to hug him, and show him tenderness, even when he felt he didn’t deserve it.

Eddie jolted away as soon as he heard the latch of the door forced open, as if his friend was made of blistering coals. Eyes habitually returning to the faded and torn excuse for carpet, as the harsh words of the orderly that had brought him here made him flinch. “Hey, no contact in here,” the voice barked. “It’s against the rules-”

“Now you listen here,” another voice hissed, though through the venom, it sounded so much louder than it actually was. A southern drawl that Eddie was familiar with, but only when Wayne was riled up to the point of fury. Sparing a glance upwards, he could see Wayne’s finger pointing towards the door with an accusing jab. “It’s the first time I’ve seen my boy in God knows how long. If I wanna give him a damn hug, if his friend wants’ta give him one too, then we’ll do as we damn well please. Y’hear me?”

He could hear the orderly start to splutter, as if it was the first time he’d ever been refuted. Knowing that the staff around here liked to elevate themselves above all, as if they were some kind of capricious deities, it was likely to be true. “I’ll be letting my supervisor know about this,” was his answer, a thinly veiled threat. Wayne’s short burst of laughter was devoid of all humour.

“Go ahead,” Wayne replied. “I got my numbers t’ call too, if I think Eddie’s not gettin’ the help he needs. Wanna see who wins the little pissin’ contest ya got goin’ on here?”

For a second, no reply. Then two. Another look showed both men in some sort of stand off, before the orderly finally sneered his final taunt. Door slamming shut behind him, making Eddie jump out of his skin. Dustin’s gentle guidance got him to sit on one of the uncomfortable plastic armchairs, his fingertips finding the bracelet on his arm to fiddle with. Back and forth, stroking the braid and focusing on his breathing to try and even it out. He heard the two other inhabitants take a seat, Wayne’s clasped hands just in view as his elbows rested on his thighs. His voice now gentler, as if coaxing a frightened animal to come closer. “How’re you holdin’ up, son? They treatin’ ya decent in here?”

Eddie didn’t mean the bitter laugh to escape his lips, as he swiped the back of his hand across his face to try and clear his face. Finding the bracelet again, studying it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Normally, he’d make a joke about it all. Call this place a five star hotel, but make a comment about how they could use better pillows. But he couldn’t find the words, no matter how hard he tried. Resigning himself to the truth, as he shrugged. “S’fine.”

“Did uh… Did you get moved to medium security?” Dustin asked, and the puzzled look Eddie gave him in return as he looked up to see the boy must have prompted a further explanation. “Hopper put in a call. Well, several. Explained to the right people about what happened. He uh- he sends his best, by the way. Everyone does.”

Hopper? He thought the old chief of police had snuffed it in that Starcourt fire. More questions than answers given, and Dustin sighed wearily before explaining it all as best he could. As best as anyone could, given they had such a short time period to meet.

Hopper was alive, something about being in Russia for a while. El was back from California, and shit was still going south with the upside-down. Hawkins was still in trouble, but they were on the case. Some sort of higher ups were working on Eddie’s case, but it needed to go through proper channels to keep an illusion of normality. Evidence to be hidden, to be planted, to clear his name. They were waiting on Max to wake up, so she could give her statement and have all charges officially dropped. All of it barely sticking in Eddie’s brain, no doubt the meds he was on still keeping his neurons dulled.

But one thing stuck out. They were working on clearing his name. It was a shot at freedom. Not much, but it was there. In the darkness, came a small glimmer of hope. Like seeing a seam of gold in a coal mine. Something to cling onto for dear life, to keep putting one foot in front of the other for.

It was hope.

“You’re gonna get me out?” Eddie questioned, timbre cracking on every other syllable. Daring to look up to see the two people who probably cared about him more than anyone else on this Earth, and being met with a soft smile in return.

“Yeah, we’re getting you out,” Dustin echoed, voice soft as he rubbed his palms on his jeans. He reached over to retrieve a plastic bag, leaning over and placing it by Eddie’s feet. “But for now, we’re allowed to come and see you every two weeks. And we’re allowed to bring stuff, too. I mean, it’s something, right?”

Eddie felt too full of emotion, an experience he usually wasn’t fond of. A big reason he liked to get stoned, or listen to heavy metal music, or play his guitar. An outlet always helped, and right now he had nothing. Nothing but three pieces of string circling his wrist, and his leg bouncing a fast tempo. Peeking from the bag, he could see a book and a carton of Camels so far. Something he’d previously took for granted, but not any longer. He’d sworn to himself an oath during his two month mark in this place; if he ever got out of here, he’d never take the little things for granted ever again.

He nodded along to the words, unlatching the harsh grip his teeth had on his lower lip before answering. “Yeah, it’s… It’s something. Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it man,” Dustin replied. “If you need anything, just… Just tell us, alright? We’ll see what we can do.”

It took all the self restraint he had not to openly laugh, instead scrubbing his palm down the length of his face. He needed a lot of things. He needed a good night’s sleep, and a shower with water more than lukewarm and to never again smell carbolic soap. He needed to be able to take a long drive, maybe to the woods, avoiding lover’s lake to not have to remember those frightening and isolating days of hiding. He needed a good ounce of bud and his record player. Lots of things were needed. None were likely to actually be received.

“So, uh… Where’d you get that from?” Wayne asked after seconds of silence that went far too long for his liking. He knew better than anyone what a downward spiral looked like in his boy.

It took Eddie a moment to realise what he was talking about, before clicking all the pieces together when his uncle stared at his arm for too long. He said your name, softly at first. Like a secret that wasn’t meant to be shared. An eyebrow raise prompted him to clear his throat and explain. “She uh… She’s helping me out around here. Someone to talk to.”

Wayne didn’t seem impressed in the slightest, arms folding as he leaned in his chair. “You sure you can trust ‘er?” he asked, head slightly tilting.

Eddie’s head nodded erratically, sending split ends and frizz flying. “She’s like me, Wayne. Innocent.”

“And you believe her?”

“...Yeah.”

He did believe you. He couldn’t explain it, but there was a sort of gut feeling to be had around people that meant others harm. He’d felt it a couple of times in his life. Hairs on the back of his neck standing up, a nausea that couldn’t be replicated by an illness, a sense of unease paired with an urge to run. He first remembered it when his father would come home drunk, the front door slamming open and shut with heavy footfalls. He’d felt it when Jason and his lackeys were chasing after him that night on the boat. Hell, he felt it when that patient with the missing piece of his ear came a little too close for comfort, before you’d come to his rescue.

He could trust you. He had to. The only other option was doing all of this alone.

He watched the wrinkles in Wayne’s face to deepen for only a few seconds, before they relaxed to his natural frown. The Munson men had a habit of speaking without words, knowing each other well enough to be able to see slight gestures and eye contact to mean something that nobody else could pick up on. This particular eyebrow raise meant ‘I believe you’. Eddie’s slight nod was a thank you.

It was all over before it felt like it truly began. The sense of normality, of a conversation between three people who knew each other well, was cut short by an orderly opening the door and barking Eddie’s last name. With the faded grocery bag in hand - after yet another check of the contents, as if a shiv would magically appear after opening it for the fifth time - he was led back to the common room to engage in the mind-numbing routine that never changed.

But at least you were sitting there, waiting for him. Lounged in one of the threadbare sofas, flipping through a magazine that he’d seen you read at least a half dozen times. You looked up, the ghost of a smile playing on your lips as you nodded towards the other side of the couch. No judgement, no questions barraged at him as he crossed the room. Just patience and a slight eyebrow raise. Thank God that won’t change, was his first thought. The smallest bloom, like the first of springtime, got caught in his ribcage. Swallowed back down, bitter as whisky, before it could cling to his heart and not let go.

“Visitors?” you asked as he leaned over the armrest, your eyes not leaving the freshly turned page. He could sense something in your voice; something that caught his attention. It wasn’t anger. It was deeper than that, hitting at a lower emotional register. He noticed an ever so slight furrow of your brow, eyes ever so glossy. Then it hit him. Visitors.

Something that not once, he had ever seen you leave for.

He recognised that feeling. The feeling of always being left out at the playground, never allowed to join the other kids. Of being dumped at a doorstep you didn’t know by your piece of shit father, the memory of the back of his jacket exiting view through a haze of tears. It was being called names, or worse, being flat out ignored. He knew it all too well. And he’d always hated seeing it in others.

But there was no point lying about it, either. “Yeah,” he nodded, plucking the carton of cigarettes from the bag and beginning to unwrap them. “My uncle and a friend. Hadn’t seen ‘em since…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he grasped a few packets from the sleeve. If you noticed his choice of words, you weren’t showing it.

He placed them by your feet where they were half tucked underneath you with a wry smile. “For all the ones I stole when I first got here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned, finally tossing the magazine to the floor. He noticed the way you seemed touched by the gesture, though. “This place gives ‘em out like fucking candy.”

“Yeah, but you hate the brand they give out,” he chuckled, remembering how often you complained about it first thing in the morning, still half asleep and grumpy from the medications used to sedate you. “Just take ‘em. Save them for special occasions.”

For a moment, he expected more of a fight. But to your credit, you took them with grace. Opening a pack and handing him one, you motioned for the lighter as you nodded your head towards the bag. “What else you get?”

“Uhh… Good question,” he shrugged, finally taking everything out to inspect. The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett, and from the looks of it, it was secondhand. A quick inspection of the first page gave him the name of the previous owner.

D. Henderson.

“Love that little shit,” he mumbled under his breath, a fond smirk as he plucked the last item. Well, items. There were various envelopes, already torn open and no doubt already read, bundled together by a rubber band. He recognised the one on top from the character sheets he’d had handed in over countless times. Lucas’ neat handwriting spelling out his name. Already, a lump formed in his throat as he hastily shoved them back. Not here, he reminded himself.

“Good haul,” you said quietly, no doubt well aware of his sudden shift in mood. It was strange, how two people adrift could find equilibrium. He could sense your fluctuations, the small changes in behaviour, that let him know to tread carefully. And now, it was happening in reverse.

All he could do was nod. Allow the static of the silence to wash over you two, and to your credit, you never pushed.

He was thankful for that.

Small stacks of paper surrounded his silhouette on the bed, the one he was trying to read gripped tight in his fist whilst the other hand muffled his sobs. Eddie hadn’t had many good words heard about him over his short life. Words were usually spat with venom, and he flicked barbs back. But now, it was there, all in black and white, and in various calligraphy.

“Be strong man, you got this,” wrote Steve.

“We’re fighting for you as hard as we can out here, just hang tight,” Robin scrawled.

“I’ve always known you didn’t do it, son. I need you to know that.” In a font he remembered the most.

His ribcage broke with the force of how much his heart hurt. The grief, the sadness, the shame. It was washing over him like waves, threatening to drag him under for good. He grieved for Chrissy, and he grieved for himself. It just kept pouring, like molasses sticky in his throat, and he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t stop until dawn broke, when he finally managed to put a lid back on everything and shut it away. Close the door and refuse to look, for fear a monster is in the closet.

Hide it away, so it doesn’t hurt. Hide it until it’s safe to come out, if it ever does. Hide it, conceal it, consume it until it’s as dense as a neutron star. And if you did hear him crying from across the hall, you didn’t say anything. God, he was so thankful you didn’t say anything.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

40 notes · View notes

a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years ago

Text

Up in Smoke (Pure Angst Edition)

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: Rick feels terrible when he has to work late and misses dinner with you, but he is in for a deadly surprise when he gets home.

Word Count: 2318

TW: Angst, Language, Reader death, Smoke Inhalation, Heartbreak

Note: I wrote 2 different versions of this same idea. Both start the same but do take a dramatic shift after a few paragraphs so I would suggest reading both if you are interested.

This current one is extremely angsty with no happy ending.

The other one has angst, but also ends with comfort and fluff and can be found here.

Rick sighed, glancing at the clock on his dashboard as he waited for the red light to turn green. It was 11:47 pm. Shit. He had promised he would be home early tonight to take you out to dinner. Just add it to the ever growing list of ways he let you down lately. Fuck Waller for forcing him to run drills with the team all night. She must have heard him talking to Economos about his big plans for tonight. That woman was the biggest cock-block he had ever met. First with June, now with you. If she even caught the smallest hint that he had something going on in his personal life, she did everything in her power to derail it. She didn’t even give him the chance to call or text you and let you know he was going to be late. And when he finally was able to check his phone as he was leaving the prison, he had half a dozen missed calls from you. When he tried calling back, your phone had gone straight to voicemail. Fuckin’ Waller!

He finally turned down his street still muttering under his breath, but his anger quickly shifted to confusion and panic as he saw three fire trucks parked outside his apartment. Smoke was still billowing out of the top of the building, but it seemed like the firefighters had managed to get the main blaze under control.

Rick quickly pulled his truck into the first open parking spot he saw and jumped out even before the engine had shuttered to a stop. There was a large crowd of people huddled around the barriers the police had set up and Rick recognized most of them from around the building. Spying Ms. Thompson, the friendly older woman who he sometimes cat sat for, he approached her.

Her worried face softened slightly when she saw him. “Ah, Colonel! I’m so glad to see you! We were all hoping you hadn’t been left up there. But seeing as where the fire started and all, we couldn’t be too sure.”

“No, I’m fine ma’am. I actually just got off of work. Can you tell me what happened?”

Her face dropped even further as a dark shadow passed over it. “Oh… I thought you knew. I’m sorry, Colonel, I am so sorry…but the fire started in your apartment.”

Rick’s face twisted up in confusion. “My apartment? How did that happen?”

She hesitated, placing a hand softly on his arm. “Your young lady stopped by.”

Rick’s blood ran cold. “No… she wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I told her I would meet her at her place.”

Ms. Thompson saw the panic cross his face and she just shook her head. “I don’t know what happened, Rick. I haven’t seen her but…they just carried out a body a few minutes ago. They brought it over by the ambulances.”

Rick gave a quick nod of thanks then hurried up to the cops guarding the barrier. Pulling out his military id, he flashed it at the men.

“I am Colonel Richard Flag, Special Ops. This is my building, and I was just informed my girlfriend was involved in the fire. I want to see her. Now.” Rick barked the orders gruffly.

The two officers glanced over at each other hesitantly but stepped aside. Rick pushed past them and stormed over to where all the emergency vehicles were parked. But he stumbled to a stop when he saw a gurney with a body on it. The body was mostly covered in a thin white sheet, but the right arm had slipped out from under the covering, exposing it to the world.

Rick fell to his knees as he spied the familiar tattoo just recognizable through the burns on the body’s wrist. He folded over, forehead pressed tightly into the concrete as he released a wail of agony. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not to you. He had done everything he could to keep you away from the dangers in his life, yet you still had been taken from him.

A concerned looking cop approached Rick slowly. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, he asked, “Hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

Rick sat up slowly, tears still streaming down his face. He managed to ask in a gravely, hoarse grunt, “What the hell happened?”

“Um, do you mean with the building?”

“No…her.” He jerked his head in the direction of your body but was unable to look at it again.

The cop understood immediately. He tightened his grip on Rick’s shoulder, giving it a rueful squeeze. “Ah, I’m sorry, son. We’re still trying to figure out what happened but the best we can figure, it seems she had some candles lit in the apartment and one of them must have fallen over. The fire spread quickly, and we don’t know how much time she had before…” He stopped and sighed. “Are you sure you want the details?”

Rick nodded stiffly so the cop continued. “I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but I heard you say you were special ops and all… We found her curled up by the front door of the apartment. She had burns on her arms and legs, but they weren’t too serious. It appears she…died… from smoke inhalation. There was a heavy chest of things next to her that we think she must have tried to go back for. But it’s all just speculation.”

“She wasn’t even supposed to be here….I was supposed to meet her for dinner tonight, but I got stuck at work.” Rick muttered robotically.

“One of your neighbors talked to her this afternoon when she arrived.” The cop shifted uncomfortably, but Rick once again nodded for him to continue. “Apparently, she said she was planning on cooking dinner for her boyfriend to surprise him when he got home from work. I’m assuming that's you.”

Rick squeezed his eyes closed tightly. He thought back to the conversation he had with you last night just before you headed home… your last conversation.

“Rick, we don’t have to go out tomorrow. We can just stay in and I’ll cook.”

“No, darlin’. I haven’t taken you out in weeks. You deserve to be shown a good time.”

“You show me the best time when we’re right here. Plus, you’re always exhausted when you get home from work. You don’t have to drag yourself out to some restaurant just because you think that’s what I want.”

“I’ll be fine. And we’re going to do things right. We’ll get dressed up all nice, you can wear that red dress I love so much, and then when we get back, I can take it off you. How’s that sound?”

“A little like overkill. I can just wear the dress over here and then you can still take it off.”

“Can you please just humor me for once? I get off at 5 so I can pick you up around 7. Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow at 7. I love you.”

I love you. Those had been the last words you had said to him. He could tell you still weren’t happy with the situation as you left so it really didn’t surprise him that you would have snuck over to surprise him. You would have wanted to prove to him how wrong he was thinking they needed to go out to have a good time. This was all his fault….

“I need to see her.”

The cop sighed. “Son, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think. I. Need. To. See. Her. Now.” Rick practically threw the words at the other man. The cop hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

As they approached your body, the cop motioned for the other men to leave the area. Rick deserved some privacy for what came next. Rick slowly trudged toward the gurney, each step making his feet feel heavier and heavier. And then, he was at your side.

At first, Rick didn’t have the strength to look at your face. His gaze got as high as your neck before he had to stop. The sheet that had been draped over you was pulled back and was folded at your collar bone, covering everything below that point. But Rick could see just the smallest bit of red sparkling from under the cloth and his heart seized. You were wearing the dress he had asked you to. The red one that always took his breath away.

He couldn’t put it off any longer. Rick followed the beautiful curve of your throat until his eyes settled on your face. Half of him was disappointed your eyes were closed as he was desperate to see them one more time. But the other half thanked God that they were. He didn’t think he could bear to see the blank, glazed look he knew would be staring back at him. Your face was slightly red, assumedly from the heat of the fire, and soot coated your skin, but besides that, you could just be sleeping. It was the same sight that had greeted him on countless mornings as he got up for work. But this time, you wouldn’t be rolling over, begging him to come back to bed for just a few more minutes. This time, you wouldn’t be sneaking up behind him to trail kisses down his bare back as he brushed his teeth. This time….you wouldn’t be waking up.

He could just imagine what had happened in the apartment. You crawling across the floor, desperate for air. Scratching frantically at the door when you finally managed to reach it, only to discover the doorknob was too scalding hot to turn. He knew you, and he knew that even up to your last moment, part of you would have believed that he would arrive in time to save you. That the man who swore to never let anything happen to you, who would always protect you, would swoop in and carry you to safety. And it was crazy he knew, but he could almost see his name imprinted on your lips, left when you whispered it with your last breath.

He lightly cupped your cheek, tilting your head down slightly. Then he leaned over and placed a last, long, lingering kiss to your forehead. You tasted of smoke and sweat but Rick didn’t care. He put everything he felt for you into this kiss. His love, his devotion, his sorrow, his regret, his guilt. He hoped that wherever you were now, you could feel all of it.

Finally, he had no choice but to pull away. Brushing his hand across your cheek one last time as he tried to memorize every pore on your face, Rick whispered, “Goodbye, darlin’.” And he turned his back on you.

The cop from before slowly approached Rick, a large chest in his arms. “We found this on the floor next to her. We think she was trying to carry it out and that is why she didn’t get out in time. We didn’t open it, so I have no idea what is inside. But it was in your apartment, so I see no reason you shouldn’t be able to take it now.”

Rick nodded and took it from the man. He had instantly recognized it as the one he kept stored in his closet. It was normally empty so he had no idea why you would have been trying to carry it with you. But it didn’t matter. If it was important enough for you to die over, Rick wasn’t going to leave it behind.

He walked back to his truck, ignoring the words of sympathy and condolences from his neighbors as he passed. He climbed into his driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, tossing the chest on the seat next to him. He sat there in silence for a moment before his dam burst. He slammed his fists repeatedly into his steering wheel as an animalistic howl of grief tore from his lips. It wasn’t fair! You hadn’t done anything wrong! All you were trying to do was do something nice for him. If he had just called, or demanded Waller let him leave like he had considered, you would still be here. If everything had gone according to plan, by this time tonight, the two of you should have been curled around each other after a night of passion.

Instead, he was sitting here alone with just this stupid chest. What could have possibly been so important for you to not flee the apartment immediately? What in his apartment was worth your life? He pulled the chest into his lap and opened the lid. What he saw inside took his breath away.

It was everything he would have wanted to save from his place. His military medals, the flag he had been given when his father was killed in action, the photo album that contained the only picture he had of his grandparents. It was all there, perfectly protected within the sturdy case. You had known exactly which irreplaceable items he would have mourned the loss of the most. Though nothing compared to the loss of you.

The last thing he pulled out, smushed at the bottom of the box, was the stuffed monkey he won for you on your first date. The one you snuggled with every night when you stayed over. The one that still smelled like you.

Rick curled himself around the ratty toy, smashing it so deeply into his chest it felt like part of him. And sitting there in his truck in the parking lot of his apartment building, the smell of smoke and ash still filling the air, he allowed himself to fall apart.

#sfw repost #fic #rick flag #rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag #rick flag x you #rick flag x f!reader #the suicide squad #joel kinnaman #dc #dc x reader #angst #death tw #reader death tw #heartbreak tw

93 notes · View notes

thatbanditqueen · 2 years ago

Text

Against the Wall Chapter 3

Knock Me Down

A brief note: I need to go back and edit the previous chapters' posts, because this fic has taken on a life of its own. I envisioned it as this epic three-chapter story I would write over the winter holidays as a sort of sweet Christmas anti rom-com about Austin and an OC in the late 1980s/early 1990s. Then it took me twenty days to finish the third chapter. And it's pretty clear to me that I have more to write. At least one more chapter and an epilogue..... so whatever.....

I don't usually take requests, but I do appreciate input and feedback and suggestions, although I cannot guarantee how the writing process will work itself out, I will say that your feedback has kept me going and I included a few little scenes especially for @slowsweetlove although I probably didn't do him justice and completely defied his persona, I changed Keanu to suit my narrative needs and I hope it isn't too horrible to bear....

Catch up here:

Chapter 1: Bruised Bananas

Chapter 2: Red-Headed Woman

Summary: Picking up where we left off in chapter two, Hannah and Austin cope with the fallout from her arrest, and try to make the best of it, but fate gets in the way and they break up again, Austin begins to give in to some bad habits of his own while Hannah tries to forge a clean start but has some hard decisions to make on the way....

Rating: Explicit

Warning: smut, so 18+ only please, vaginal, oral, threesomes, sex with prostitutes, toxic, dark consensual sex, drugs, alcohol, pregnancy

Words: 15.4 K

IF YOU ENJOY PLEASE LIKE, REBLOG AND/OR LEAVE ME SOME FEEDBACK LETTING ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT.

so many typos sorry

Hannah's Rehab Playlist (basically grungey alt from late 80s/early 90s)

Hannah & Austin's Romantic Mixtape (get it on music from 70s - early 90s they would've liked... i don't know, it was part of my creative process...)

May 12, 1991, 7 am

Culver City Police Department

The wall greeted Hannah’s head with a thud, and she knocked her self back into it harder, wanting to absorb the cold concrete, it was awelcome relief to her warm, throbbing, anxious neck as she blocked the fluorescent glow of the overhead light with her hand. She sighed, head pounding, longing to sleep, but the adrenaline coursing through her blood made sleep impossible. That, and the general grey, dour, imprisoned atmosphere of the Los Angeles County holding cell where she found her self confined. That also made sleep impossible. So instead, she lay there, mentally flaying herself for being so stupid, so unlucky, and so utterly fucked. The severe, angry figure of Austin’s publicist Min greeted her at the discharge desk. Tall, slender, Black, with high cheekbones and an elegant, refined style, Hannah shuddered at Min’s terse smile as it led her to a white Mercedes.

“Thanks… for getting me … you didn’t have to….” Hannah looked down.

“I got a call from Austin’s agent, Brett, at 4:30 this morning informing me one of Hollywood’s hottest, highest paid actors is trying to leave an active, overseas production, one already running behind, and costing the studio hundreds of thousands of dollars a day, to rescue his girlfriend, so, um, yeah, I did have to….its going to take all my effort and connections to keep the damage to a minimum…”

Sighing as she looked out the window, Hannah realized they were going over the 101 to the valley, a direction that was decidedly not towards her apartment. About an hour later, after a shower and some coffee, Hannah sat on a bar stool in Min’s pristine kitchen trying her best to respond to a series of questions and rules.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. My job is to minimize the amount of people who know you were arrested last night. This is best for both your career and Austin’s.” Hannah nodded to Min, but reminded herself that Min gets 10% of Austin’s salary, and his career was her priority, not hers.

“Alright, Hannah. Have you ever been arrested before?” Hannah shook her head. “Good, that’s good… OK… now, be honest, has Austin been doing cocaine and heroin as much as you or Downey, or any of the other reprobates you have been running around with?”

“Um… Austin likes to party but uh … he doesn’t need to, you know? I… uh… he stopped partying when he’s working on a project … he, uh, never tried H. He doesn’t even know I’ve done it…”

“Well, he knows now. Right, ok, and how long have you had a drug problem ?”

Hannah looked down, her breathe caught in her throat before she murmured. “I don’t know if I would say I have a problem…

“Hannah, you were arrested for DRUGS, illegal ones, bad ones, coke and heroin ——”

“I’ve only done H a handful of times —”

“I wish you could hear yourself. Most people never utter those words…. If this gets connected to Austin, it can make him an insurance liability. Which is BAD. And, honestly the publicity is a career killer for you too, no director wants to hire a drug addict. So we need to contain this. And you need to sound contrite, apologetic, like you understand that all drugs are bad. Got it?” Hannah nodded again, accepting her role in this conversation: silent acquiescence.

“Right, last question - you’re on a film right now?”

“Yeah, uh … we finished the Point Break final mix Friday, that’s why I was out last night… the delivery party is next Friday …”

“You are one lucky girl.” Min put her coffee down, pointing at Hannah as she spoke. “You may actually get out of this with your reputation intact… if you do EXACTLY as I say. Rule one, no more dressing up like you’re auditioning for a Guns n’ Roses video. Think sleek, think simple, think modest. I want you to look like a PTA mom who is also an accountant. Got it?”

Hannah mumbled how she hated Guns n’ Roses, but her chin bobbed up and down with assent.

“Good. Ok, rule two, and hopefully this is obvious, but no more partying. I don’t care if you’re at the wrap party and Patrick Swayze offers you shots off his tight, perfect ass. You are now the paragon of sober, chaste behavior. I’m setting you up with an attorney, good one, Sheila, she specializes in these… sorts of…things… You need to prepare yourself. Sheila is going to tell you to start going to twelve step meetings, it will look good. She’ll ask for rehab in exchange for no jail time and a dismissal of charges.”

Hannah’s head fell into her hands, and her voice was shaking. “But I —“

“Possession of heroin, cocaine, unregistered guns, those are felonies here in California. Trust me babe, you don’t wanna fuck with prison. Rehab is the sensible choice, the choice that keeps this off your record, and then boom, clean slate…. ok, last rule: no more carbs.”

“Wait, why shouldn’t I eat carbs?”

“People always gain weight when they go to rehab, darling, and it would just make my life so much easier if you started saying no to carbs. And maybe yes to cigarettes? Now there’s a drug addiction I can get behind, keeps the appetite down, looks cool, might even help you get through all this.”

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk, Min, you make me feel horrible about myself.”

“Good, channel that when you think you want a doughnut. And smoke instead.”

Chewing sweet, glazed doughnuts in the passenger seat of her friend Robin’s car, Hannah let the gooey carbohydrates do their work comforting her as she prepared to call Austin. It was nighttime in London, and the cool, self control in his voice threw her off. Hannah could almost feel his abs tensing as he tightened up inward and put up a calm front. His timbre was steady, confident, unflappable. There was a slight British twinge to his voice, she could hear the Jagger in it, and he sounded like a bizarre version of himself. Hannah tried to lighten the mood, teasing him about his accent, but it was hard to combat every variation of his vague “the main thing is that you are ok, right Banana?” It betrayed how worried he was. Guilty for making him worry, guilty for ruining their travel plans, Hannah explained how she wouldn’t be flying over in two weeks and didn’t know when they would see each other.

“I totally get it if you want to take a break…” Hannah offered.

“What, from us?”

“Yeah,” she added, wiping her eyes, letting the word salad tossing around her mind tumble out. “I just… I … I’m a mess and its already been so long since we had sex and being with me is putting your career at risk, and I would never fuck with your money…. or your art … you are so talented … and I fucked up and I just… I would understand —if you need a break from the drama… ”

Austin paused, her comment about his talent was unnerving, raw praise was not something Hannah did, it usually was hidden in back handed mockery or laced with sarcasm. Watching Hannah struggle to admit he was good at anything made it so charming when she did, that, in those moments, he actually felt like he deserved her approval. She was perpetually the same to him since they met: brutally honesty and never obsequious, no matter his success. Or hers, for that matter. Hannah’s authenticity drove his need to have her in his life. That, and the way her feisty stubbornness provoked a subconscious desire to conquer her, she was a challenge he would surmount, and he secretly longed to marry her, fill her with children and make her his forever. But Austin never really entertained those inclinations. He couldn’t explain how he felt that, and then was also turned on by how ambitious and smart and talented Hannah was. He loved mentally sparring with her, exchanging witty barbs with each other was like foreplay. Then also, he loved catching her at work at the end of the day, still editing a scene. Her eyes lit up, biting her lip in concentration as if she was solving a complex puzzle. Then there was the way she never expected or demanded anything, never took it for granted that he would pay for dinner, concert tickets or trips, had refused to move in with him. Her plucky, unassuming self-reliance made him want to take care of her even more and give her the life she’d never had. There were moments when Hannah let down her walls and became vulnerable, moments when she let herself be raw, ask for help, or reach out to be touched, Austin lived for those moments. His favorite view of her was from between her legs, when she was completely naked, and his mouth was in her cunt, licking her, pleasing her, devouring her in ways she had always been wya too self conscious to let another man touch her. Austin lived to watch her face twist in tortured ecstasy as she writhed beneath him, moans begging him to continue, while her eyes betrayed her fear of the unbridled feelings she couldn’t control. It was sticking his tongue into a live current of lightening in the middle of velvet hurricane.

Austin had been in London for a month and he ached for Hannah’s companionship. Work was a useful distraction, his days started on the set at 6 am, and then he was often not back to the hotel, often, before 8 or 9 pm, sometimes grabbing a bite with the other cast members or crew. He told himself he was glad not to have Hannah there, it wouldn’t have been fair to leave her all day six days a week, and then giving her the worst version of himself in the evenings, exhausted and just wanting to recover and recharge. Acting demanded so much intense work, that being alone on an overseas shoot made it easier to stay in character. Which was the part of his job he loved, the magic of subsuming himself in a character that wasn’t plain, boring Austin from Anaheim.

Sundays were his only day off, and today, on this Sunday, listening to Hannah blabber on insecure and nice and completely vulnerable sparked something primal in Austin. He wanted to throw his phone down and run to Heathrow and fly too her immediately. He banged his hand on the table, frustrated at how stuck he was, and made a mental note to tell Min that money was no object for a lawyer or rehab or whatever else was needed to to take care of Hannah right now. Ashley, he needed to call his sister Ashley and ask if she could drive to LA and help out as well. Making this mental list, Austin roused himself from his reverie and returned to their conversation.

“HAN - NAH,” Austin’s voice growled in a low, husky rumble through the phone receiver slowly and surely. “Stop…. sshhhhh… baby…. you’re tired, you’re scared, it’s ok baby…. I get it… but….I. Love. You. Do you hear me Red? … I FUCKING BLOODY WELL LOVE YOU. I am not some sex crazed teen age boy. I’m a grown man. I’m not going to break up with you the day you get arrested for heroin because I need to fuck something… I would be there with you if I could, baby. It kills me that I can’t be there to take care of you -”

“But you shouldn’t have to take care of me, you should be with someone easier —”

“Banana! You were extremely easy …. that’s partly why I love you - you didn’t play hard to get, you opened up those legs the second I met you and then fucked me in an alley before you even knew my name —”

“That’s not what I meant. Plus, I knew your first name… and I could tell you were an ok guy, I saw your soul in the bathroom that night … But that’s not the kind of easy I’m talking about… I meant uncomplicated… simple… easy to live with…”

“Nothing worth having is easy, Red … look… you’re the only one I want… I don’t want anyone else. I love you. I love your messy, big beautiful…. brain… those two heaving sides of your cerebellum, working up new insults to hurl at me… I honestly don’t know how you do it… I love your big, beautiful tits…” his voice was low, husky now, slowly as he relished the mental image of Hannah the last time they’d been naked in bed together. “I love your big, beautiful Banana butt, and I really really love your sweet, little, tight —”

“Austin stop! I’m at Robin’s house, she is sitting ten feet from me —”

“MOUTH… what did you think I was gonna say? S’ides, she can’t hear what I am saying—“

“But she can see my reaction, even though she is on the couch, politely pretending to read a magazine and being very very cool about everything…”

“Wait, are you blushing? OH baby, you’re so fucKing cute when you blush…. Especially when your lips are around my—

“Austin!”

“Ok, ok. Look. I can’t help it, your voice is so sexy its distracting me… Look, I’m fine. I’m so busy with work, its probably good you aren’t flying to London, because we’re doing twelve hour shoots. I’ll just come home after we wrap, I need a break, you do too, so its good we aren’t gonna travel around Europe all summer. I need to recover…. I’ll be home in August, and until then, it’ll be just like any other long distance thing, and we’ll be fine. We’re already pretty banging at phone sex… and you can use all that free time in rehab to write me dirty love letters —”

A loud guffaw escaped from Hannah’s rough, cried-out throat.

“Oh baby, I love it when you snort. Loudly.”

“Shut up, Austin, you really are a dirty, little pervert. I swear, I can hear your hard on…. I can just tell from your goofy voice… how can snorting turn you on?”

“The world works in mystical ways, never question a hard on… just say thank you….”

Hannah chuckled, “I can’t decide if I want to punch you or make out…?’

“I wish we could do both, preferably, in that order… oh Banana, everything is gonna be ok. Maybe this is a good thing.”

Hannah paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sighing, Austin looked up and let his eyes wander, unfocus, following the rectangles of light bouncing off the crystal chandelier in his hotel room. He wondered if Hannah would be in this trouble if he had just been man enough to confront her before he left LA last month. If he really wallowed in self pity, his guilt spiraled back to their first break up, when he cheated on her. Because after getting back together, the biggest change he observed was Hannah’s new daily coke habit. It was a drug she used to hate it, and now she did it first thing in the morning. One evening before he left for England, SJP had cornered Austin at the Viper Room and confided that she was pretty sure Bob and Hannah were doing heroin with Johnny Depp, Winona Ryder and River Phoenix in the club’s back office. That Hannah had started experimenting with smack in Venice with Bob, behind her back. Austin had told her she was being paranoid, they were doing blow, like everyone else. Sure, Hannah enjoyed blow, maybe too much, but then again, coke was everywhere, e was everywhere, and everyone was doing it, including them. But heroin? No. Hannah was no junkie, she had no track marks, wasn’t passing out, or missing work, or stealing things. She was just going through a party girl phase, needed to let off steam now that she was getting better jobs, and needed to get it out of her system and find her rhythm. Now, after the arrest, he wasn’t so sure, and the prospect of Hannah being locked away in a rehab, getting rest, forced off drugs, was actually a salve comforting the overwhelming sense of powerlessness and fear running through him because he was so far away.

“Banana... I’m just saying maybe some rest and relaxation will be good….”

May 17, 1991

Hannah tried to be good while her lawyer, Sheila, sorted out her case. She wore boring clothes. She clenched her fist and powered through the week totally clean until the Point Break wrap party, when she looked down to find herself sipping on a beer and couldn’t even remember picking it up. Fuck it, its just one, you deserve it with the week you’ve had. Three beers and two shots of tequila later Hannah was smoking a joint out back with a mix of actors and crew, including Keanu Reeves, Lori Petty and others. The night went on, the atmosphere was giddy with the thrill of completing such a large-scale action movie and Hannah chased her warm buzz into a drunken fuck-it cyclone. Staggering toward her car, wondering if she should drive, she was rescued from indecision by a bounding Keanu running into her, long hair flapping behind him as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a group heading to Sunset in a limo. Hannah couldn’t see straight leaving the The Standard at 2:30 a.m., and found herself sharing a cab alone with Keanu, and his hands, one of which found its way to her knee, a glint sparkling in his eyes, his brows arched in a question. In that moment, the sheer flattery of his proposition sent a of flock butterflies fluttering through Hannah’s belly, and she looked up at Keanu’s rugged jawline through blurry eyes, focusing her eyes on the rough stubble calling out for her fingers, imagining how sweet it would be to look up at him as he fucked her softly, slowly, tenderly. No one would know. She felt like she was dancing above a ravine, daring herself to tumble in to her own demise. Hearing his velvety, warm voice, Hannah almost propelled herself forward.

“You know, Rosenfeld, you’re the cutest editor I’ve ever met…”

Hannah let out a sardonic, “ha,” taking a deep breath. It took all her will power to remove Keanu’s hand from her knee.

“Not sure if that’s a compliment… most editors are gross, nerdy, old white dudes… kinda low bar there, K-Rock… but, thanks anyway… it’s just … I have a boyfriend…”

“Still with Austin?”

She nodded, leaving with a hug before wobbling out of the cab and into Robin’s house. The base of her head was still throbbing Monday morning when Austin’s sister, Ashley, showed up to take her to lunch and help her get ready for rehab.

August 17, 1991

Golden Key Treatment Center, Half Moon Bay, CA

Hannah stood in front of the mirror, tee shirt lifted up, moving her hand over her belly and hips, stopping at the top of her grey sweatpants and snapping the elastic in frustration.

“Ughhh, I think I’ve gained 10 pounds since I got here… what the fuck can I possibly wear tomorrow?” She whined to her roommate Sonal, who looked up as she flipped through Cosmo.

“Shut up Hannah, you look healthy, I would kill for your tits…..”

Hannah shifted from side to side. “And I would kill to be 18 again, like you, with your stupid metabolism and great genes … you could be a model… I would hate you if you weren’t the only other sane person here… but you need to tell your mom tomorrow, no more bringing tubs of Indian food for us to eat at family visitation … Ok, from now on, every time I want to eat, I’m gonna smoke… coming? ” Hannah slipped on her birks and grabbed her pack of Parliament methols. Sonal followed her downstairs and outside to the ring of metal chairs and benches in the designated smoking area. Golden Key was like a jail mixed with a posh psych ward housed in a Mediterranean style villa overlooking the Pacific Ocean above levels of manicured gardens punctuated with fountains, a pool and tennis courts. The most comfortable smoking section was a deck off to one side of the lobby at the entrance, hidden from the drive by a line of tall evergreen shrubbery, but convenient for those stressful moments Sundays during family time visiting with guests in the main building.

Today, Hannah and Sonal were alone on their walk through the grounds. Saturdays were the only day patients could get a day pass to leave campus with a buddy or approved guest. It was also one of two days they got to sleep in, and Hannah and Sonal had conspired to stay in, eat cookie dough and veg out watching television, for once not having to compromise with others on what they watched in the common room. Hannah had regressed back to habits from her freshman year at UCLA, spending the day in pajamas without make up, smoking menthols and watching TV.

Sonal exhaled her cigarette, “How long did you say it’s been since you saw your boyfriend?”

“Early April… it’s been over four months ago… he’s probably boarding his flight right now … today’s actually his birthday, but he couldn’t get over until tomorrow… I’ve been trying to think where we can sneak off during visitation tomorrow … though he probably won’t want to fuck me when he sees how fat and boring I’ve become here… ”

“Hannah… if its been four months, he won’t care what you look like. Why was he in London again?”

Hannah bit her lip, “Yeah, he, uh … his company transferred him, but he’s—”

Standing, Sonal looked through the shrubs out toward the circular driveway. “Shhh, Hannah, a black convertible just pulled up front, it looks expensive… ”

Hannah bounced up, moving to peep around the shrubs. “That’s a Lamborghini….” she murmured, watching a tall white guy with shoulder length blonde hair covering his face grab a bouquet of roses and step out of the car. A shot of electricity went through her stomach as she realized who it was, and, stabbing out her cigarette butt she became a woman possessed. She scurried around the deck’s stone balustrade columns and ran down the steps towards the car, the flop of her sandals falling off didn’t phase her. The force of her body knocked Austin back onto the hood of the car as she jumped onto him, legs around his waist, a high pitched squeal escaping her mouth before it smashed against his lips.

“Hey Red…happy to see me?” Austin looked up, through a sly grin in-between kisses, blue eyes bright and twinkling at Hannah. She slide off him, panting and giggling, then realizing she was barefoot in sweatpants, she punched Austin in the shoulder.

“Asshole - I did not want to look like like this the first time you saw me…..I fucking hate you!”

Austin smirked as he rubbed his mouth, raw from Hannah’s assault on it, his hands were now on her waist as he pulled her back into his embrace. “Shut up, you look fucking hot… I might have to ravish you right here on my new car…”

“NOPE…. I know how much you like public sex… ugh, actors… consistently looking for an audience… well, the joke’s on you, babe… now you have to wait for me to shower and get some clothes on.”

“What’s the point when I’m going spend the rest of the night tryin to get them off…?”

“Hmm, we’ll see if you have a chance with that British accent… where’s the man I said goodbye to in March? Did you leave my boyfriend back in London?”

“Yeah… I … uh…” Austin ran his hand through his long hair, pushing it behind his ear, embarrassed. “I’m working on that… I’ve been speaking like Mick Jagger for almost six months… longer if you count the dialogue coach I started with last fall… at this point… I don’t even know what my real voice sounds like, I mean, this feels like my real voice… certain things trigger it and other times as well it’s, I don’t know… I can’t help it, its like a part of the fiber of my being… fuck, that sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

Hannah caressed the side of his mouth, noticing how tired he looked. “No, it doesn’t sound stupid… that’s the nature of being an empty vessel… a beautiful, tall, sexy empty vessel… sometimes it takes a while for the contents to drain out, right?” She pulled Austin’s neck forward, and stood on her toes to kiss his check. “I love you Austin Jagler…”

A kiss to his other cheek, and Austin’s face melted into a lusty haze, beaming down on her with a broad, affectionate grin. Her witty barbs and insults were an aphrodisiac. Hannah could have asked him to drive his brand new Lamborghini into the ocean and he would have. Just watching Hannah’s boobs bounce up and down (had they gotten bigger since April?) as she ran toward him without a bra on, her hair bobbing out of a messy bun, shoes falling off as she pummeled him on to his new car, tits first, smooshing him down under a mountain of soft, billowy breasts, and he was transfixed. Knocked down, figuratively and literally, He could have stayed there, on the Lamborghini’s hood, fully clothed, watching her hover above him, the outline of her nipples visible through her shirt, and he would have been content for hours. Although now that she had steadied herself, and was once again demeaning, insecure, doting and violent all at once as she slapped him, called him an empty vessel and told him she loved him, he was even more bewitched then ever.

“Austin?” Hannah snapped her fingers in his face. “You must really be jet lagged… I said, you have to fill out some forms inside while I change, I’ll be real quick.”

An hour later, Austin’s left hand was pushing up the hem of Hannah’s knee length yellow and green flowered dress, finding its way to rest on her knee, slowing moving up higher, his left hand steering them out of the Golden Key’s gates and down the hill towards the coast. She leaned on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her hair, lifting his arm to pull her in closer.

“You are such a bastard, showing up a day early … you’re lucky you’re so pretty… and that it’s your birthday…. and that I missed you …” she said, her voice becoming breathy, low, and Austin gasped at the way her hand moved to caress the top of his inner thigh. She chuckled as his cock twitched and he reached down to remove her hand.

“Mmmhmmm… you’re gonna make me crash, baby… I only just landed in San Francisco this morning, and this is a new car, and I’m not used to this windy road … so, where are we going?”

“You bought this car this morning on your way here?”

“No, Alex picked it up for me and drove it to meet me at the plane.”

“Fucking movie stars … don’t even buy your own cars… making your assistant drive nine hours from LA with a shiny new toy instead of just renting a car like a normal person… pathetic… “ Austin grinned, eyes remaining forward on the road, it made him feel powerful to hear Hannah recount his extravagance through mockery, the way her eyes widened told him she was secretly impressed.

“Ugh, Half Moon Bay is really a one horse town… there’s a fisherman’s wharf touristy area, some beaches, a square with a few shops… I just have to be back by 9, and, um, we’re not supposed to leave the town…”

“Right, but how would they know?”

“I would know… I um… I’m really trying to do this … I want to graduate sooner rather than later…”

“Graduate?”

“Yeah, remember? I wrote about it, in one of my very long, dumb rambly letters … it’s stupid, but the program length is variable here, three months to a year, based on how long it takes to complete their ‘three phases’ and ‘graduate’ from the program…”

“What phase are you on?”

“Two… I have a sponsor in NA and I’m plugging along … rah rah rah…”

“That’s good, though, I mean… right?”

Hannah squinted, looking ahead of her, and then looked down, fidgeting with her dress. “Yes.” Her voice was low, sincere. “Yes. I’m glad I’m here. I wasn’t at first….. but now I’ve been here for two months and… I … I have been able to admit that ….. the drugs were a problem for me… and… I don’t want to do them anymore … I want to be free… is that the lamest thing ever? Don’t worry, they haven’t totally brainwashed me … I’m still a devout atheist… I still like sex and rock ’n roll …but, I um… look…. we should talk tonight I guess, because if you need a girlfriend who you can get fucked up with and share that party lifestyle with I totally get it…but being clean, for me, means no booze… no recreational e and dancing at parties in the desert…”

Austin’s face grew pensive, and he drew Hannah in tighter, planting a long kiss again on the top of her head. “Shut up with that… First, we did that once because YOU wanted to… raves are not exactly my scene… and Second, You’re my girl, ok? I’m gonna take care of you. I want to….And, uh…I’m like, really proud of you, Hannah Banana, I really am… so let’s figure out more pressing issues… like,it’s 1:30, I gotta get you back by 9… that doesn’t give us much time, we should probably go straight to my hotel…”

Hannah guffawed, “Not even gonna buy me dinner first, huh?”

Austin’s heart swelled and he felt himself harden more, Hannah’s teasing lilt made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he rubbed her knee. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something to feed you,” he tried to play it straight, looking ahead, but unable to stop his deep chuckles as Hannah playfully slapped him. “I meant to talk…” he laughed, “like we should just go to my hotel, so we have somewhere private to talk… we have a lot to talk about… we don’t even have to have sex today… or even go to the super deluxe suite I got with a big, comfy king bed … we can just hang out on the hotel grounds, the lobby is nice, there’s like a path along some cliffs and an outdoor fire place, there’s a golf course somewhere…”

Hannah hummed, her hand sliding around his waist, “Ok, yeah, you know how much I love golf …”

“What the fuck, Austin… the Ritz? I didn’t even know this was here, leave it to you to find the most overpriced poncy, rich asshole place to stay.” Hannah exclaimed, as Austin led her through the lobby of the Half Moon Bay Ritz Carlton. He shrugged, walking towards the outdoor bar where a fire was indeed roaring from a large, stone pit, and you could see the Pacific Ocean churning beyond green cliffs. Hannah shook her head, and pulled him to her, standing on her toes to whisper into his ear, “I need to use the bathroom, can we go to room?” Her teeth grazing the bottom of Austin’s earlobe, and she grinned as his eye brows lifted and he nodded his chin, tapping his hand over his thigh during the elevator ride up.

Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, Hannah’s confidence faded a bit, she pulled on the waddle that had expanded under her chin, and pushed it back to up, looking at herself with both hands pulling back the excess skin around her face. Stupid fucking cow, you were almost a size 8… now you can barely get into your size 12 clothes… But Hannah’s confidence surged back when she came out to find the eager, almost innocent look of awe in Austin’s eyes glued to her from the couch where he was untying his oxfords, camel hair jacket already off. He jumped up and sauntered over, pushing his long hair to the side. She shivered at his hands closing in around her waist, savoring how the back of his index finger lightly feathered up and down her sides. His blue eyes were dark and half lidded with lust above a dopey smile.

“Hey…” his voice was husky, slow, and Hannah’s pulse quickened, quivering at his touch, the fire building in her core swelled and her chin jolted down, embarrassed of how intense her desire felt. Her breath was uneven, nervous, and Austin’s right hand moved to her soothe her cheek, cupping it and turning it towards him.

“Hey… is this ok? You ok?” Hannah nodded, her fingers moving to play and tug at the belt loops on his hips, pushing into him. Now both of Austin’s hands were cupping her face, thumbs gliding over the tops of her cheeks, his lips soft on hers, then pausing to swallow anxiously. Her eyes widened, as she nuzzled the tip of his nose, and his head bent down, the warmth from his forehead meeting hers, eyes squeezed shut, shuddering as he mumbled, “Oh god baby, sweet baby, I missed you so much… so… so much….”

A warm tingling pricked at the sides of Hannah’s eyes, she thought she might cry, but she kept it at bay, nodded, her hands tightening around him as his nose grazed her cheek and his lips were on her earlobe, then kissing the nape of her neck softly. He drew her closer to him, taking her left hand in his right palm to sway around the room, half speaking/half singing the lyrics to the song “Lady in Red” softly in her ear. Austin’s slow, gravelly, semi-British inflection pulled her in and she followed his lead, moving in harmony, their bodies softening and relaxing as they remembered how they fit together.

I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you do tonight…

I've never seen you shine so bright

You’re amazing

I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side

And when you turned to me and smiled

It took my breath away

And I have never had such a feeling

Such a feeling of complete and utter love

As I do tonight

The lady in red is dancing with me

Cheek to cheek

There's nobody here

It's just you and me

It's where I want to be

Well, I hardly know this beauty by my side

I'll never forget the way you look tonight

Austin’s voice cracked, and Hannah heard it and felt it, with her head was resting on his chest. It sent a wave of electricity up her belly. Austin paused by the window, smoothing her hair, his fingers trailing down her back.

“I love you, Red, forever and always..,”

“I love you too, Austin, always and forever.” He gripped her closer as he felt her voice reverberating through his chest.

Austin pulled back to look into Hannah’s big brown eyes, wide and vulnerable, her pupils blown with longing, and he answered it with a kiss, stroked her back with his thumb. The kisses became deeper, his mouth enclosing her upper lip, softly, then pulling on it, before their tongues collided, each beckoning the other to consume them completely. Hannah fingers worked their way down the buttons of his black, flower patterned dress shirt, slowly, biting her lip as it finally fell to the floor and her hands moved, shakily, over his smooth, firm skin. Austin grabbed her right hand, kissing the back of her palm. Her other hand brushed a lock of his long hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear.

“I like the long hair, by the way… you look like a handsome, rock star surfer.” Hannah whispered, grasping a handful and pushing it behind his right ear.

“Thanks…” Austin muttered distractedly as he pulled at her dress, exhaling with awe as he slowly raised it up over her head, shaking his head and popping his lips at the sight of Hannah’s heaving pale breasts. He bent down in reverence to kiss the line of freckles above them, grinning like a school boy at the sound of his fingers successfully pulling off the last hook of her bra clasp. Now his hands were moving slowly down her back, playing with the elastic of her panties as his lips forged a trail from her décolletage to her mouth. Feeling her tense, he looked down to see Hannah sucking in her stomach, using her arms to cover the slope of her belly and hips, and he stepped back, as if reading her mind, he pulled her hands away so her could admire her whole figure.

“You’re gorgeous, Red… really… I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

Hannah rolled her eyes, “Stop…”

“No, really…” Austin lowered himself on his quads to grab Hannah by her ass cheeks, lifting her up and carrying her under her knees and back over to the bed, then laying her down gently. Hovering over her, Austin’s eyes smoldered. “I need to tell you something baby…. you look better, you look healthy, you look like you did when we met… this is how your body is supposed to look…” his hand stroked the roundness of her hips, grabbing and rolling her soft, supple flesh, as he leaned in to kiss Hannah’s shoulder, smirking as she whimpered in response to the soft touch of his fingers tracing a line up her belly to her breasts to flick her nipple. A bolt of lightening ran down Hannah’s spine and sparked at her core, a fire building as Austin mumbled on, the arousal in his voice shuddering through. “These curves just kill me… I’ve seen you naked hundreds of times now, and every time it’s still …. a fucking revelation, I just want to sink in, explore every contour, feel every bounce, taste every inch of you…” as he said this, Austin pushed himself lower, until he was on his knees at the base of the bed, looking into Hannah’s eyes as he slowly slide her panties off, eyebrow arched in a question, then hastening to rip them off once Hannah nodded her chin in assent. Austin dragged her legs towards him until they were over his shoulder and Hannah’s rosy pink pussy met his face with a wet slap at the edge of the bed. He held her still when she twitched, responding to the intense flick of his tongue over the center her clit. Austin spoke into Hannah’s sex, his hands soothing the top of her thighs.

“Shhhh… s’ok… don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you baby…”

“Mhmmmm I know, I’m ok,” Hannah’s eyes met Austin’s, looking up at her between her legs. “ I just… I don’t think I’ve ever done this sober, not really, not like this where I’ve been clean for months…”

Austin leaned forward to lav at Hannah’s core, maintaining eye contact, and then pausing to rub her clit with his thumb, savoring the pitter patter of his finger against her slick flesh.

“I’m into it, I want to see you, the real you, I can’t wait to watch you come undone, unfiltered, knowing that I am making you feel pleasure, and not some chemicals…”

Throwing her head back, Hannah cried out when Austin returned his tongue to her nub, her fingers seizing the duvet cover to steady her through the intense waves of pleasure washing over her as the tip of his tongue rolled on her, up and down in a syncopated trance, then shifting to circle around her core, bringing his thumb to messaged her entrance and gently open it up, his tongue back home on her clit, fingers gliding inside her, calling out to her center as his rhythm intensified, responding to the thrust of Hannah’s hips now fucking into his mouth was she chased the sensation building in her belly until she screamed out a refrain of “oh gods,” her face contorting in agony through her release, hips bucking slowly as the waves crashed outward and the heat of her orgasm rippled out across her body. The sparks flew up through her nose and tingled down to the skin at the base of her feet.

“Oh god Austin… I FUCKING love you…” she cried out, her head flinging back as she panted. Austin grinned up at her, his thumb riding her through her climax over her clit, before she pulled him off by his wrist, unable to take the over stimulation. Hannah perched up on her elbows and caught her breathe, her fingers aimlessly twirliing Austin’s long hair. He smirked a self-satisfied smirk, wiping his mouth on the duvet, then lifting himself up effortlessly from his shins.

Hannah admired his bare abs, rising in a V shape to broad, muscular hard shoulders, he spoke while looking down to unbuckle his pants. “I honestly don’t know how long I’ll last today baby…. It’s been a while… unless you count jerking off to the sound of your voice…” Still panting, Hannah’s mouth turned into a bright gleam, and she sat up, making him trip over the edge of the bed as she pulled him down toward her, kicking off the last leg of his trousers and jostling to land over her with a burst of laughter. Pushing the blonde hair out of his face, Hannah looked up into his eyes with an affectionate grin, the reverence she found there made her gasp.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you’re really here with me, that it’s really you,” she whispered, pinching his arm. “I’m afraid any moment I’m going to wake up in my bed at GK and this will all be some sort of wet dream.”

Austin leaned in, meeting his lips with hers, his tip grazing her entrance as he met her eyes.

“If this is a dream, I don’t wanna wake up, I just wanna be here with you.” He started to push into her, slowly, grunting low as a he watched Hannah’s eyes widen and her breath hitch in her throat with a gasp, exhaling through the snug fit of her cunt and the way she involuntary clenched around him.

“Hey, you ok?” His eyes darted up to search hers.

“Mhmmmmm…uh huh…” she answered, moaning out, “I just… may be out of practice…”

“S’ok…” Austin slowly thrust out, and then, rocking back into her, he grabbed her hips and swiveled onto his back so that Hannah was now on top. “Take the wheel, baby, let’s go at your pace.”

Pausing to reposition her knees on either side of his hips, Hannah pushed her hands onto his chest to steady herself, her breath sharp as she lifted off of him and then slid back down, a glint in her eyes.

“I like ... uhhhh… how I tell you… I’m …ummff….. out of practice and… ahhhhh…. out of shape and that I don’t know what I’m doing…. And …o f fuck…..you put me in charge…” She grunted, her voice was playful as she began to bob up and down on Austin’s cock, biting her lips as she found the angle that made a spark jolting up through her core with each forward movement.

“Oh god, fuck I missed you so much….” Austin groaned, his hands digging into her hips as she rode him deeper and he rose to meet each thrust, his hands tightening to slow her down. “Whoo, wait, hold on…” Hannah paused, as Austin pushed himself up, his legs folding under her as he pulled her knees up on either side of him. Hannah felt his cock push deeper, as she met his body, straddling him at eye level as he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she lowered her legs on either side of his, her arms now hooked around his shoulders. Their bodies were twisted together upright in an embrace as Hannah began to grind against Austin slowly in lotus position, feeling his length glide up and down within her, the muscles in his arms tensing as they moved with her hips to support each push up and down. Face-to-face in the middle of the bed, their mouths hovered across from each other as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Austin’s breath synced with Hannah’s and she grasped the back of his neck, twirling his hair into a rope away from his face as she kissed him deeply, passionately, heaving back and forth as her pussy opened up further for him with each thrust.

“I missed you too…” Hannah murmured between low gasps, her hips dipping up and down deliberately, a loud moan escaping her mouth.

Austin’s fingers drew her in closer. “Let’s just live here in this bed and… never… uhhhh … leave… ok?” Amused, Hannah nodded, as Austin pulled her in for another kiss, his lips wet, tongue furtive, bodies pressed tightly together, Austin savored the swell of Hannah’s breasts against his heart as they fucked into each other in a slow, soulful rhythm. Austin’s hands began to move Hannah’s hips more energetically.

“I love you… Hannah Banana”

“I love you too pretty boy…” her fingers slide down to his chest and began to tweak his nipples, and Hannah bit her lip as his blue eyes met hers with an intense heat, plunging down onto him, hips rippling as he worked them with her and she felt a tension building in her core. “Fuck Austin, I think I’m gonna cum again…”

He bit his lip, nodding his forehead against hers. “Hey, that’s my girl… just relax… don’t fight it…. Uhhhh god….you feel so soft when you cum… ride me through it… FUCK I fucking love you….”

Letting loose Hannah cried out, trembling as she continued to rock back and forth over Austin until he jerked harder up into her, his abdomen tightening, her name on his lips as he convulsed and exploded deep inside her.

“Oh god...” Austin muttered, his brow bending into hers as he stilled her hips and Hannah pushed down, squeezing her arms around him until they fell sideways. She landed on his chest as they exhaled, a heaving pile of spent limbs.

The sun set over the ocean, and Hannah and Austin spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, crawling to the phone to order room service, sitting on the bed lazily drinking Pellegrino and feeding each other French fries, finding new ways for their bodies to fit together when splayed across each other. Austin murmured in her ear how he wanted Hannah to move in with him when she graduated, and she nodded, all the pride and snark and insecure stubbornness fucked out of her.

“Ok. If you mean it.”

“Let me take care of you Hannah.”

“We can take care of each other, ok? I’m not some helpless patient… I’m just… trying to get better… but… I am so, so SO grateful, lucky? For your support… it makes it so much easier to be here now that I an escape with you….” She answered, and he kissed her forehead.

“You’re right… we take care of each other… and I’ll be back next weekend, cuz I need you…. Being here with you, it’s like you fill up this empty, Hannah shaped hole in my life….”

She giggled, and slapped his shoulder. “I feel like you fill up an empty Austin-shaped hole deep inside me…”

Austin rolled his eyes. “I meant figuratively… like a part of my soul is incomplete without you.”

Hannah turned to look at him, as he spooned her from behind, their eyes met and Hannah waggled her eyebrows, leaning up to kiss Austin’s lips and then moving around so that they were once again tangled in an embrace, kissing deeply as their bodies softly heaved into one another, and before he knew it, Austin was above Hannah again, hard, looking for her nod as he spread her legs and guided himself into her once more.

“Oh gawd, baby, when I’m inside you I just feel like I’m home….”

Hannah’s big brown eyes, widened, a deep laugh burst out of her throat, followed by the sharp gasp she exhaled as Austin’s cock lunged into her.

“Austin, that is so corny, that’s like the Hallmark card for vaginas… CUM home Austin…”

“Shhh, Hannah…ughhhh” he smiled down at her, hovering above as he continued to thrust into her. “Don’t ruin the romantic mood——”

“Ok..baby… you’re right…. It’s so… ughhhh.. romantic when you tell me how my pussy is like …ahhh” their conversation was punctuated by groans of pleasure. “House….”

“Like home, like it is so comforting to be inside a familiar pussy, a homey pussy…ughhhh”

She laughed and shook her head, and then gripped his sides as Austin began to pump into her harder, and Hannah could no longer form full sentences, her whole body buzzed from the electricity generated by each pound against her g spot. Within a few more minutes, she was coming unraveled, and Austen soon followed.

Dozing off in a post coital nap, it was 8:15 when Hannah eventually rose and began to dress, looking over her shoulder with a heavy heart. Austin followed, hand through his hair, retrieving his own clothes and dropping her back at her rehab with the promise that he would be at family visitation the next day. Before she got out of the car, Hannah handed him a small jewelry box with a bow wrapped around it.

“Happy birthday, pretty boy…”

He opened the box, finding a cassette tape labeled with Hannah’s handwriting, Songs that Make Me Think of You.

“ I was planning to give it to you tomorrow… there are no cool shops in Half Moon Bay… and you have so much money and stupid things anyway…. so I thought I’d make you something… there some Cure, REM, Pixies, Elvis Costello…. some love songs… ugh, it’s stupid… I mean, you just bought yourself a Lamborghini…”

Austin grinned, shaking his head, as he cupped her face and drew her to him. “Shut up. This is perfect because you made it for me… I can’t wait to listen to it…”

Mid August though Mid September, 1991

The next few weekends would follow much the same, as Austin drove up from LA to visit and September came to call, bringing with it a cooler bite to the coastal California sea air. The mood at rehab changed perceptibly, and Hannah waltzed through her days on a pink cloud, scribbling daily journal entries, speaking openly and positively in groups, meetings, sessions with her counselor and her NA sponsor. As she started to make plans to move home, phrase three was in her sights, all she had to do was connect with a temporary NA sponsor in LA and set up a meeting, and she could start planning to graduate the first week of October.

It was a balmy, early Tuesday morning when Hannah bounded down the staircase from her dorms to the foyer, whistling REM’s “Shiny Happy People,” when a note stuck in her throat at the sight of Min waiting for her on a bench. Austin had been up to visit the previous weekend, and had said nothing about his publicist visiting her before he departed Sunday. She started to open her mouth, and Min motioned for her to follow as she led Hannah back to what was usually her counselor’s office.

“James, is it? Said I could use his office.” Hannah nodded, and watched with horror as Min unfurled several tabloids in front of Hannah with the previous days’ date on them. There, on the front, were photos of her and Austin: kissing, walking, holding hands, at the hotel and then saying goodbye at the front of the Golden Key’s main building. The headline read “Butler’s Romance with Downey’s Junkie Jailbird.”

“Fuckkkk… what the fuck Min?”

“Someone tipped off the paparazzi. Either someone who saw you at the hotel, or walking around this charming institution. Doesn’t matter who, at this point, it’s out there. And they have the whole story, your name, the details of the arrest, everything.”

Hannah gulped, flipping through the pages and gasping in horror as she found the double-page spread with photos someone had taken driving by the arrest with her and Downey, next to her mug shot and a photo of her and Austin walking down the red carpet at US premiere of his last film, David Lynch’s Crazy at Heart. Min straightened her glasses, her deep Black skin somehow radiant even first thing in the morning, when Hannah imagined she must have woken up very early in order to drive or fly up from LA.

“Austin doesn’t know I’m here. And I think we both know that boy is like a Labrador retriever. He will not do the smart thing, he will be loyal, he will not break up with you. But he must. You are a liability to his career. I cannot stress that enough. I’m sorry, I have to say it as it is. Bob is not getting any offers, and he was nominated for an Oscar, because he can not get insurance coverage until he finishes treatment and stays out of trouble for at least a year, I not more. His career may very well be over… I begged Austin, BEGGED him, not to have you walk down the carpet last year, to keep his private life private, but did he listen? No. And I, foolishly, didn’t put my foot down, because it didn’t really matter, did it? Who cares if an actor dates a random normal person, it’s not as fun to read about as two celebrities dating, so the gossip mongers have pretty much left you two alone. No one ever saw this photo from then red carpet before, it was all they cared about were pictures of him with Laura Dern or Lynch. Even with the arrest, all eyes were on Downey. You were literally cut out of the photos so the papers could get a better close up framing Downer with the cops. And with your plea deal, we managed to keep you under the radar. But now, the only way to make this go away is to stop providing them fodder and distract them with something new.”

Hannah met Min’s eyes, confused, as she sat down, and Min followed suit, perching on the edge of the chair across from Hannah.

“Just tell me what to do. Like a statement that we aren’t involved.”

“What? Actually comment on this? God no. No. It just needs to stop. You need to break it off, and then I will set him up with some very public dates. Maybe with some of his costars from Jagger, like Halle Berry, Rosie Perez, Christie Brinkley, they played his main love interests….” Hannah nodded, and then Min reached over and put her hand over Hannah’s and squeezed it. “You know, Hannah, if you want to be truly happy, though, you should just pull off the band aid and really break up with him today. While you’re in here, safe from temptation, and cared for, where you can heal. Actors should date other famous people, who know what this lifestyle is. This thing, its never going to work long term. Look at you, dear, are you better or worse off after doing this tango with Austin on and off for four years? Dating someone famous, its extremely difficult…. its like a swan dating a rat, he should be with another swan…”

Hannah pulled her hand back, brow furrowed.

“So I’m a rat now?”

Min breathed deeply.

“I was trying to emphasize difference. He’s above-the-line talent, you’re below-the-line crew. He grew up with money, you didn’t and you are always going to worry whether you are enough, no matter what he says, or how much you trust him. You and Austin different species, that’s all I’m saying. If you are honest with yourself, you already know in your heart I’m right.” Min patted her own heart. “Look, you can do whatever you want. But dear, no one was interested in a story about a young woman going to rehab after getting arrested, not until they saw Austin up here, then someone told the paps and they started poking around. You need to look out for yourself. What is going to happen to you? And your career? If you stay together, I guarantee this is not the last time you’ll be in the tabloids. It’s the first. Of many. Either way, you need to convince him to stop coming up here to visit. To have public dates with a few famous women. The paps will loose interest and it will all blow over….. Unless you keep adding fuel to the fire. If this stops, you may still be able to salvage your reputation, there will be people who didn’t read this tabloid. But if the coverage continues, week after week as he visits, or when you come back, or if you relapse… at some point, things that normal people get to keep private will come out, and it’s possible Variety or the LA Times will do a story on you guys.”

Hannah nodded, starting at her fingers in concentration. She knew what she had to do.

October 15, 1991

The drive back down to Los Angeles was long, and Avi was silent, giving his daughter the room she needed to be with her thoughts as she mentally prepared for her new life, her clean life, life after rehab. Hannah sighed. Ugh, its worse than being 18…. I’m a single, unemployed 28 year old loser. She pulled in one of Austin’s hoodies she had kept after a visit, wallowing in the melancholy that washed over her.

Austin had become irate when she broke up with him over the phone in her counselor’s office the day Min visited her three weeks ago…

“Are you fucking serious? Because of some tabloid bull shit? You know I don’t care. Fame doesn’t fucking interest me, I just want to be with you, work with great people and make art. ”

“But, Austin, being famous gives you the profile do that —“

“Sure, but so you take the good with the bad. You know that, you grew up in this business.”

“And look at how fucked up I am. Plus, its not like the paparazzi chase after editors, Austin, that is definitely a bonus from dating you …”

“You think I like them? Those people are parasites… they are the SCUM of the earth, I cannot believe you are letting them control your life—”

“Austin, I am not LETTING them do anything, I am just trying to live life on life’s terms, one day at a day—“

“Don’t you dare start throwing those AA cliches at ME, Hannah. At least be real. We love each other. Nothing else matters. You’re just hurt and scared and you’re reacting like a baby…”

“NA cliches, please, if you are gonna insult me at least be accurate… look it doesn’t matter…. You re not being fair… I AM trying to be real. You know what’s real? I don’t have a job lined up. In this business, you are only as good as your next job, and this type of stuff might make it impossible—”

“So what? You don’t need a job, Just come live with me. I’ll take care of you …”

“Do you know how demoralizing it is for you to talk to me like that? As if I haven’t been working like a dog for the last seven years to get where I am? Let alone how bad just sitting around your house waiting for you to come home and fuck me would be for my recovery? The tabloids, the paparazzi, they aren’t the problem. They’re a symptom of the real problem, which is how incompatible we are. You’re a swan, and I am a rat, we are defying the laws of nature—”

Austin growled. “Are you high right now? They should give you a drug test. You sound ridiculous. I literally don’t even know what that means with the swan and the rat. Ugh! You are being so stupid. You always do this, you get stuck on how I’m a ‘movie star,’ and then you blow it out of proportion because you are insecure and stubborn. Most woman would be overjoyed to have someone offer to support them while they figure out their shit. And work through this together.”

“Austin, you don’t get it, and I can’t do this, we’re talking in circles… look, my sponsor told me not to date anyone for my first year sober, and I completely ignored her. But clearly I was wrong, because this whole thing is a trigger for me, you are a trigger. We have too much baggage, from before, from now. I love you, I love you so much…” tears started to well up in Hannah’s eyes, and her voice wavered. “But love isn’t enough and I have to put myself first.”

The sound of her sobs made Austin even angrier. “No. The answer is NO. I’m not letting you do this. We are not breaking up, you are being hysterical.” Her sobs got louder, and Austin sighed, running his hand through his hair and tried to calm down. He could almost see Hannah’s pale face becoming blotchy and red and wet as she cried. It was beautiful and ugly and he couldn’t bear it. “Oh Banana, look, you’re upset. We can’t have this conversation over the phone. I’m gonna get in my car and drive up right now.”

“NO! No, Austin, no, don’t come up here - they took those photos of you coming here, it might even be another resident here. Please, please, don’t come up.” She sniffed, wiping her eyes, breathing deeply to steady her voice. “Look, this isn’t up to you. You don’t get to let me do anything. It’s over. Do not come up here, do not call, do not try to see me. I’m taking you off the guest list. Can’t you understand? I need to do this for…. my recovery. I just need to be single and focus on staying clean.”

“I canNOT fucking believe you are doing this, after everything. I have done nothing but support you getting sober. You can’t take me off the guest list, I PAID for that fucking rehab, did you know that? And now what do I get in return? Gratitude? NO. You’re fucking punishing me for staying with you. For getting ‘caught’ on camera being the good guy. Ugh!!!!” Austin had slammed down the phone and then paced the living room, punching the wall.

Hannah collapsed on the desk sobbing, and when she calmed down and tried to look up, she would see the corny twelve step slogans framed on the wall and start crying again. Because part of her knew he was right, that it was unfair to use recovery as an excuse. But she was also convinced this was the best thing for both of them. Definitely for him. The fact that he had ended up paying for her rehab only solidified how wrong she was for him, how he deserved better. She’d had no idea, her lawyer Sheila had told her that her health insurance had covered it, but she had left all the details to Sheila. Who Austin had probably subsidized as well, once she started to think about it, realizing how little the legal invoice had been. She hadn’t even questioned that at the time. You’re a fucking idiot. And so is he, I wish he had kept his fucking money to himself and let me go to whatever shit hole the Motion Picture Health & Welfare insurance would have covered.

Sitting n her father’s Honda, Hannah pulled the collar of Austin’s hoody tight, letting the faint smell of his cologne comfort her. The break up conversation felt so fresh it could have been yesterday instead of three weeks ago, probably because she replayed it over and over again in her head. The intervening days had gone by in a blur, going through the motions of putting on a brave face, finishing her phrase three preparations, doing whatever she had to do and saying whatever she had to say so she could leave. She’d have to be careful, she knew now that because Austin had paid for her stay, he probably knew he was out, and his house was only 15 minutes down the coast from her father’s mobile home community. That is the first thing, figure out a new place to live.

Avi gave her a soft, sweet look as he unloaded her luggage. “You look like you could use a cup of tea, Noodle. And perhaps a meeting.” Hannah smiled weakly, her heart breaking as she considered how much it probably hurt her father to see her like this, how worried he probably had been after the arrest.

“Yeah pop.” She jumped out of the car, and took the other suitcases out of the trunk, following Avi into the trailer.

October 31, 1991

Playboy Mansion Halloween Party

The sound of the waterfall broke up the cocktail chatter as Austin felt the ice cube in his glass hit his teeth, the smooth whiskey warming his throat as he gulped it down. He pulled on his white silk tie, straightening it over his pink dress shirt. He ran his fingers through his long blonde hair, and looked over at Emilio chatting with a Latinx bunny in a cute Kelly green corset with matching bunny ears. He rolled his eyes as Emilio asked her flirty questions, using is had to wave her over to him and pointing in his empty glass.

“Alma, is it? Keep ‘em coming, okay sweetheart?”

Emilio shook his head in mock disgust. They’d met on the set of Austin’s first movie in 1988, he’d played a the main villain, a frat boy that Estevez’s character was investigating for murder. The Playboy Mansion wasn’t really Austin’s scene, but Emilio and Rick, a producer they both knew, had invited him and he pushed himself to get out of his house and come mingle. It was hard to distinguish the bunnies from the starlets and aspiring actresses dressed up for the Playboy Halloween Party in some sort of costume that involved a corset with heels. There was corset Wonder Woman, corset black cat, corset witches, was that a corset cow girl?

An hour or so later, he was mindlessly nodding in conversation with his friend Rick, Rosie Perez, who had played the role of Jagger’s first wife, and a few bunnies whose names he didn’t really catch when he felt a strong hand slap his back, and turned to see Keanu Reeves behind him.

“Butler,” he said, softly, and Austin turned to shake his hand as Keanu’s arm lingered around his shoulder. His smile was open, vulnerable, but there was a mystery in his stoic eyes. “So, still knee deep in the editing bay?” Keanu grinned, then stepped aside to grab a glass of champagne from a waiter walking by.

“What?” Austin sipped his own drink, watching as Keanu lit a cigarette.

“You’re girl, I met her on Point Break, she here with you?”

“Oh right,” Austin emptied his glass and slammed it down, looking around for a waiter or bunny, suddenly very very thirsty. He had only met Keanu in passing at aa few events, and had been so preoccupied with his own film project he hadn’t really paid much thought to Hannah’s work over the last year. “Yeah, we actually just split last month…”

Keanu blew cigarette smoke up into the air, shaking his head. “There was something about her, man, those tits, am I right?”

Austin frowned, then pushed Keanu lightly in the chest. “Hey man.”

Keanu’s eyes narrowed, and a dry smirk formed across his lips. “Yeah, no I get it. Must have been some good snatch if you’re still hung up on her. Tell me, did the curtains match the drapes?” Waggling his eyebrows, his voice was dry, sincere and earnest, Keanu’s grin widened as Austin pulled back his fist and jabbed him in the face, his dark hair flopping as he staggered back, laughing, as he lunged forward and landed an uppercut in Austin’s chest. Seconds later Austin was pulling him down on the ground, and they rolled on top of each other needing, kicking each other until Austin landed over him, and was about to pummel him again when the strong arms of security guards pulled him off and escorted them both out of the party.

Standing at the front of the mansion’s gothic Tudor front building, Austin rubbed his chest as he waited for the valet to bring his car around, he looked to his side as Keanu stood there, wiping the blood from his cracked lip. Keanu laughed, and went toward a black Porsche that was being brought around.

“Hey Austin, I’m sorry man, I was just fucking with you. I’m in a weird head space tonight, c’mon, let me make it up to you. I know just what you need.”

“What about my car?”

“Leave it, it’ll be here in the morning. “

Still buzzed, even though the fight had sobered him up, Austin shrugged and thought to himself, why the fuck not, as he leaned to sit passenger seat next to Keanu and they roared off down the hills toward Sunset.

Keanu lit another cigarette, and tapped a speed dial on his car phone.

“Hey, Polly? Hey it’s Josey Wells,” he winked at Austin, and whispered, “code name,” grinning at Austin’s confusion. “Yeah, hey, yeah, I’m wondering if its too late to put in an order for the night? Yeah. Something red, and thick. Mhmmm. Yeah, that’s the one. Send it to my house.”

Austin sat back, and rolled down the window, watching as they winded down Sunset toward the ocean.

Walking towards Keanu’s front door, Austin took in the collection of motorcycles in his garage. They were in a canyon in Malibu, up above the Pacific Coast with a view of the ocean.

“You know I live just down the road, I shoulda followed you…. So, you gonna keep me in suspense or what?”

Turning on lights, Keanu walked to his bar and poured them both drinks.

“You know, I’ve been in love. I know what it is to have your heart broken. Bad. Like where it hurts just to think about her. I can see it in your eyes, amigo.”

Austin drained his glass, tilting his head back he closed his eyes as he breathed deeply, and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, loosening his tie. He took his white sport’s jacket off and draped it over a chair. Turning to Keanu, he pursed his lips, jaw tensing. “OK, so?”

“Well, the best way to get over someone is to —”

“Start seeing someone else. Yeah, I’ve heard from all my friends. Problem is, I don’t want to date anyone else.”

Keanu walked to his fridge, and grabbed a bag of frozen peas, which he placed over his face as after he lay down on his couch. Austin followed, listening to Keanu’s dry voice emanate through the peas.

“Exactly. Which is why the best way, the actual best way to get over someone, is to find a hooker who looks just like ‘em, work out all your issues through sex. It’s very cathartic, trust me.”

Austin’s sullen face transformed to a bright beaming grin, his cheeks squeezing up as he exploded in laughter.

“You cannot be serious.” Austin’s bottom lip hung down in disbelief.

Keanu looked up from the bag of peas at Austin, who was now sitting in a leather chair across from him

“Hmmm… just wait, she’ll be here any minute. Trust me, Polly Fleissman is the best madam in this town. First one’s on me.”

Austin stroked his chin with his right thumb and forefinger. “How much is it?”

Keanu grinned like a giddy school boy, “S’ $1500 a night… and worth every penny.”

It was midnight when Keanu ushered in a white, red headed woman with curly hair, about the same height as Hannah, plump and voluptuous. It distinctly was not Hannah, but he would have done a double take passing her on the street. The tell was how clean cut she looked in a simple, expensive beige drape halter dress, and her sexy, confident voice, greeting them, introducing herself as “Jacqueline, but you can call me whatever you like.” Welcomed her in, offered her a drink, and the pulled out a small bag of white pills from his pocket, and held it up, jiggling the pills.

“I got some mitsubishis, what do you guys say, wanna party?”

Jacqui smiled, and stuck out her tongue. 30 minutes later, they were rolling, Austin’s skin was tingling, sweat lined his brow, and he kept swallowing. Keanu had put some low house music on, and Jacqui came to perch on Austin’s lap, her hands caressing his face, wiping the sweat from his brow, as his hands moved down her body and under her skirt, just the touch of her skin made the blood rush to his cock, he pulled on her red curls with his other hand, telling her how she was the most beautiful girl in the world, how he loved her, as she giggled, and kissed his neck, her hand moving to his pants and finding the outline of his erection. Stroking it, she whispered, “Does that feel good baby?” Austin nodded, looking into her eyes, then looking up as Keanu joined them, his own hands settling over Jacqui’s neck. He winked at Austin.

“I think we’d be more comfortable in the bed room, eh?”

Jacqui stood up, taking Austin by the hand, they followed Keanu together into a dimly lit master bedroom, the walls were a light grey, and the bed was a dark metal, very modern, with black sheets, pillows, blankets. Shirt off, Keanu stalked to Austin, and put his bar arm around Austin’s shoulder, messaging his neck was they watched Jacqui undress. Keanu’s hands stroked the back of Austin’s neck, and he leaned into, groaning, he felt like Keanu fingers were drawing out all the negative energy in his body, in his brain, replacing it with golden light that was making his skin glow. Looking over at Keanu, it looked like his pale, white body was gleaming with an otherworldly iridescence.

“Keanu, fuck, I love you man, I think you’re my best friend.”

Keanu’s hands moved from Austin’s neck and snaked around his chest as his chin pushed into the top of Austin’s shoulder, a low chuckle on Austin’s ear as he pulled into him.

“I think the e has kicked in… so, AB, ever been to a Hawaiian pig roast?”

Austin turned to Keanu’s cheek, shaking his head.

“No? Well I’m gonna show you how to skewer a live one from both sides.” Keanu winked, and kissed Austin roughly on the cheek, thens stepping back towards the bed. Jacqui giggled as Keanu beckoned her to him, his long nose dipped down to nuzzle her bare heaving breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, just beige lacy panties, and her alabaster skin shone in the dim light. Completely uninhibited, Austin couldn’t get his clothes off soon enough. He watched with an open mouth was Keanu dipped down, slowly removing Jacqui’s underwear, then looking over at him as he unbuckled his belt, pulled down his pants to reveal his thick, stiff manhood, then jumping on the bed, scooting back towards the headboard and beckoning Jacqui to follow with his finger. She turned to look at Austin, smiling, her breasts bouncing as she climbed on the bed with Keanu.

“Coming?” She giggled.

Austin’s long, blonde hair swayed as he nodded, watching as Jacqui’s ass lifted up in the air while she leaned down to suck Keanu’s cock. In that moment, Austin eagerly followed, watching as Keanu’s raven hair hit the bed frame when the actor leaned back, eyes squeezed shut, uncontrollably biting his lower lip as Jacqui’s head bobbed up and down on his length. Austin rested his hands over the roundness of Jacqui’s bottom, kissing her right cheek as his left hand took hold of the other.

“You sure this is ok with you?” His voice wavered, his blue eyes met Keanu’s as he grinned, pulling on the mess of curls above Jacqui’s head for her to pause.

“It ok with you if my friend there roasts you from the other end?”

Jacqui grinned, and turned her head over her shoulder.

“Such a gentleman… hmmmhmmm… I think I can take it, big boy. Let me make you feel good.” Austin laughed, it was cliche, but high, every word was a sweet sensation and he went for it. Her skin was electric, and he bent his lips down below her cheeks to find her entrance, kissing at her lips, which he noted were waxed, bare, silky smooth, unlike Hannah’s wild mane, and his tongue sought out her clit easily between the soft, manicured folds, moving up and down as her body rocked with the rhythm of her mouth gliding up and down Keanu’s dick. The breathy sound of a feminine groan joined Keanu’s murmurs of “fuck” and “take it” and “oh my god this feels amazing….” Austin moved one finger, and then another inside of Jacqui, messaging her open and searching for her pleasure point as his tongue flicked over her nub, smiling into her and pulling her ass up as he felt her twitch under him. It was not long before Jacqui cried out, and Austin was pulling his lips off her, and straddling her from behind, thrusting in and out of her pussy, slowly at first, the sensation heightened by the ecstasy, the excitement of the threesome, and the way her body and the bouncing mess of red hair conjured up his intense longing to be with Hannah again.

Keanu looked at him over Jacqui’s writhing body between them, Austin’s lips puckered in an growl as he rolled in and out of her.

“Who ever whips his cream first has to pay for the pizza,” Keanu grinned, his eyes narrowing, and Austin chuckled, happy for the distraction because he was just on the edge, and Keanu’s conversation jarred his attention. He slowed down his pacing, and looked at Keanu, shaking his head.

“Man, you are crazy.” That night Keanu paid for the hooker, Austin paid for the pizza. But Polly Fleissman, the Hollywood Madam, would soon begin to get a steady stream of revenue for her services from Austin.

The next time Austin fucked Jacqui they were alone in a suite at the Chateau Marmont during what would become regular Thursday night consensual role playing sessions. Calling her Red, he would take out his frustrations with Hannah as he pummeled into the prostitute from behind, talking in a low, gravelly voice as he thrust into her, slapping her ass, pulling her shoulders, holding her head down into the pillow.

“Do you feel that? You fucking bitch. That’s how much I fucking love you… how could you do this to me. To us.” Austin groaned. The release as he came inside Jacqui was immediate. Addictive. And never fulfilling as it was with Hannah. Austin missed her brown eyes, innocently looking up at him, her voice teasing but her body and movements untrained, completely charming in how awkward or stilted she was. He missed that moment, with Hannah, when he could see her expression change, from being guarded to the moment she gave up her pretenses and opened up for him, her eyes filled with pure adoration. Austin couldn’t bare to look Jacqui in her eyes, at least not while her fucked her, especially with the degrading way he usually spoke to her. Jacqui was not shy, and she never blushed when she undressed, making sounds of approval whether Austin railed her aggressively until the sound of him slapping into her cracked through the suite, or whether he licked her soft and tenderly.

He paid double to have her visit him on Thanksgiving, having her suck his dick, and then, for a change, Austin motioned for her to get on top. Was their rocking motion increased, he put his hands around her neck, lightly choking her, calling her a selfish bitch, and then ordering Jacqui to punch him and tell him what a bastard he was.

“Tell me.” His right squeezed tighter around her neck, and his left hand pulling on her red curls and then tracing down her back to slap her ass, his biceps flexing as he grasped her up and down faster towards his chisled abdomen. “Tell me, tell me I am a spoiled, mediocre yuppie, a hack, a fraud, an empty vessel with no. creative. talent. TELL ME. Tell me you hate me!”

Jacqui’s face darkened, and then she repeated the list back to him in a condescending lilt, her performance somewhat contrived, a watered down rendition of a melodramatic scene from Dallas or Dynasty. Then she punched him, soundly smashing her right fist into his left eye socket and Austin came shortly after, groaning out like a man possessed being exorcized from his demons. As soon as he was sated, he was pushing her off him, looking ahead as he stalked off to the bathroom and dismissing Jacqui with a “You can go now,” without looking back. Sitting on the toilet, head in his hands, he wept and swore he was done with this. No more. But then the next Thursday, he would find himself back in his regular suite, fucking Jacqui into the wall from behind while he whispered all of Hannah’s character defects in her ear.

Austin spent November and December distracting himself from his the gnawing need to find Hannah, throw her over his shoulder and head for a secluded cabin somewhere remote where he could have the space and quiet and solitude to make her understand that they could be happy and good and healthy together. They needed to be together He knew it would be different if he could just talk with her in person, but he felt guilty for the way he had acted when they broke up. The way he belittled her recovery. Her career. The way he threw his payment for her rehab in her face. The only person he trusted to talk about this stuff with was his sister, Ashley, and she convinced him to leave Hannah alone for a few months, give her some space to get back on her feet, and possibly forget the way he had hurt her over the phone to retaliate for the way her decision had pierced him, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and to Austin, making no sense.

So, inside of kidnapping his ex girlfriend, Austin fucked a high-end prostitute that looked like Hannah and focused on work. He met with his agent Brett to look over scripts for his next project, finished up final voice over for Jagger and mapped out his promotion schedule for the film with his assistant, Alex. Humoring Min, Austin went out to several parties and events with dates she arranged for him, taking Halle Berry to the premiere of Cape Fear, Richard Gere and Cindy Crawford’s wedding, and planning to take her to the premiere of their film the week before it was released nationwide on Christmas.

Alex was also under a strict Hannah assignment to update Austin on her whereabouts, to the extent that he was able to. Sometimes, late at night, relaxed driving home from a meeting at the Chateau, Austin would drive by the trailer park at Point Dume, circle around the nearby grocery stores and coffee shops on the off chance that he might catch a glimpse of Hannah from afar, but he never did. So, he bided his time, checking in with Alex daily for any news.

December 26, 1991

Westwood Beach, Malibu, CA

Tide was out, and the slow rhythm of the small waves lapped up Hannah’s shins, leaving her legs cool and wet and sinking into the sand below them. She sat at the shore, hands under her thighs, looking out at the infinite expanse of the sea. The waves grew in size, and she sat there, waiting for one large enough to knock her down so her head was under the water, the salt water enveloping her. She willed the waves to wash her away into the night, staying under water until she couldn’t take it anymore, before finally jumping up and screaming at the moon. As a teenager, she would sneak down here at night to smoke pot, fantasizing that the golden reflection of the moon on the silvery waves was a faery path that would take her up into the sky, away from the dismal mortal life she inhabited on earth. Back then, the worst thing in her life was AP Bio and her unrequited crush on Rick Schlessinger, the object of much angst-ridden poetry written while sitting on the beach, smoking cloves and summoning all the pain her sixteen year old self could muster. That seemed like a cake walk compared to today.

She had quit smoking when she got home, Avi hated it. Her father was a quiet man, when he wasn’t working as a sound editor in town, she would find him on the sofa in their small trailer overlooking the bluffs, reading science fiction next to a pot of tea and a stack of chocolate dipped biscuits. However, he did turn to her two days after she moved in and explain that he would rather see her doing heroin again than smoking cigarettes. Hurt, indignant, but also humbled by the very real need to save her money and live back at home, Hannah kept her mouth shut and quit smoking. Avi’s quiet British sarcasm was all it took. Apart from that, they got along, and her father reverted to his den mothering ways, cooking dinner most nights and queuing up classic movies on the VCR for them to watch and analyze as they ate. Their love language was film criticism, it was the main vehicle for most of their meaningful conversations.

Hannah spent her days pounding the pavement, and looking for work. She visited some of her friends from college, reached out to a few directors she had worked with, saw her uncle Abe, the executive at Paramount, and the reoccurring feedback she got was to lay low for a few months, let the tabloid story recede, and then she would get some traction. In the meantime, she found a job in Vancouver, a Canadian friend from college had started a company editing for the new booming television industry up there that took advantage of those sweet sweet Canuck media tax breaks. She was set to leave for Vancouver in three days.

Hannah had flown up to Vancouver in early November, got the job, and started making her arrangements to leave. Then, a week later, she noticed that her breasts were more sensitive than usual, and gasped when she realized she hadn’t had her period in a while. Like, a while a while. Hannah was not one for tracking her cycle, she didn’t keep a calendar, she was on the pill so she didn’t worry too much. But the minute the thought crossed her mind she knew, she knew before she drove to the drug store and bought the test. She knew before she handed the test to Robin a waited for her friend to read her the result. She knew because she hadn’t bought tampons since she got home from rehab. According to her gynecologist, she was eight weeks pregnant when she found out in mid-November. Since then, Hannah had been in a holding pattern, avoiding dealing with this new reality in any meaningful way. Her sponsor had lectured her to tell Austin, no matter what her decision was, she was supposed to be living a new, honest life, and she shouldn’t try to manage his emotions or reality by keeping it from him. But she couldn’t bare to call him. The OB went over her choices with her, it was 1991, not 1961, but cautioning her that she really needed to make her decision before the end of her third trimester. Just like she had known she was pregnant, Hannah had already known what her decision was.

“So,” Robin asked, at brunch with Hannah and their other friend, Sarah the Sunday before Thanksgiving. “ I thought you were pro-choice… we just signed up to campaign for Bill Clinton….”

Theoretically, Hannah had always thought that if she got pregnant before she was ready, or not in a committed relationship, she would just have an abortion. But theory didn’t take into account how she actually felt when it actually happened in actual real life. What Hannah really wanted was a time machine to go back and not get pregnant at all. She knew she couldn’t go through with an abortion, and but she was terrified of having a baby.

“I am pro-choice. Emphasis on choice, Robin. Fuck…. You know I promised Avi when I was 15…”

Robin gasped.

“What do you mean you promised your dad when you were 15? That you would never have an abortion?”

Hannah nodded. “Yeah, it was the only sex talk we ever had. Driving a long PCH one day, he turned to me and told me if I ever got pregnant, he would raise the baby. I guess Georgie had two secret abortions when she was a teenager. The women in my family ….we are pretty fertile, I guess… I managed to somehow get knocked up on birth control…”

Robin shivered.

“Anyway,” Hannah continued. “My mom didn’t tell him until years later. She always regretted it. He always regretted it. Also, apparently a psychic once told my father she saw more children in his future…”

Sarah chimed in, “Well of course we’ll support—”

“Wait, you feel like because some psychic told your father —” Sarah slapped Robin. “I mean, yes, of course we will support you. And if you want to keep working, well, Austin just gonna have to shell out some of that movie star money for a nanny…”

Hannah sighed, picking apart the paper straw wrapper on the table. “I don’t know if that is exactly the approach I want to take when I tell him… I don’t want him to think I’m using this to get something from him… I need to be able to support myself, no matter what. I mean, obviously I need to tell him…”

But she hadn’t, and now she was at 14 weeks, and moving to Canada for work. In three days. But it was only for four months on a new TV series based on the Highlander movie. So, in theory, she could go work this job, come back at seven months pregnant and then have the baby here in LA. Maybe even pick up another job before the baby came. How hard could it be, she was already sitting down all day anyway? And what about after that? Where is your theory then? Fuck fuck fuck a duck.

“Stop being a pussy and just bite the bullet.” She said out loud. “Just call Austin.”

Wet and shivering in the cold (for California) January air, Hannah felt the nervousness in her chest tingle and move to the top of her shoulders. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Walking back up the hill from the beach to Avi’s mobile home, Hannah looked down at her waist, her swimsuit under an oversized Les Mis shirt Austin bought her in London. She didn’t really look pregnant yet, the bottom of her belly hadn’t started to bend upward and expand. Her ankles looked thicker, but if you didn’t look at them every day, you probably wouldn’t know.

The longer Hannah put off calling Austin, the more awkward the prospect came, and she found herself flying off to Vancouver without calling him.

taglist @powerofelvis @woundmetender @slowsweetlove @xstrengthxinxtragedyx @cryingabtab @whositmcwhatsit @artlover8992 @crash-and-cure @daffieapple @eliseinmemphis

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #austin butler 1980s fic #austin butler 1990s fic #austin buter x OC #banditqueenwrites

42 notes · View notes

imaginary-zero · 1 year ago

Text

Future dark worlds

So I think most people have noticed by now that the two major Dark Worlds we've been to so far in Deltarune had double-doors as their entrances from the Light World. This is also clearly significant based on the door to the computer lab being changed when chapter 2 dropped. So I decided I wanted to analyze the different double-doors I found throughout Hometown and talk about why I do or don't think they might be future Dark Worlds. (this is gonna be LOOOOONG and also I'm definitely not the first or best one to do this but I think it'll be fun lol. Also I'm going to explain things as if the reader is caught up on all the major confirmed lore, the Spamton Sweepstakes stuff, the cancelled alarm clock app, and whatnot)

So I'm analyzing these options based on a few things: -Lore significance (if a location is significant to the overall lore of the world, both known and mysterious. So basically if it has something to do with Gaster, parallels to Undertale, potential exploration of character backstories, etc.) -Narrative weight (The impact a dark world in this location would have on the story, emotional or physical impacts on characters, previous foreshadowing, and if it would be sastisfying, important, or fascinating to the player) -Known contents (Do we know what's behind those doors? If the answer is no, then the possibility of it being a future Dark World is higher. It was very deliberate that we weren't allowed to enter the computer lab in Chapter 1) -Vibes (do I feel like this is something Toby Fox would do? Do I feel like the story is going in this direction? my own opinion and nothing more) -Isekai victims (would anyone potentially get sucked into the Dark World upon its creation? If so, who?)

So let's go over the possibilities I've found.

The second-floor door in Asgore's flower shop. -Lore significance: Asgore was heavily important to UT. Comparisons between UT!Asgore and DR!Asgore have already been made via his intro. He seems to have made some mistake that got him removed from the police force, so that could be a plot point that this story explores. Narrative weight: Yes, it would harken back to Undertale's ending. This would emotionally impact Kris, as Asgore is their father. Also, depending on how Chapter 3 pans out, Toriel might get involved as well. Known contents: Nada. The door is locked and Asgore says nothing about it. Vibes: Very much feels like something that would happen. Isekai victims: Asgore himself. Probably not any customers since the door is locked and the Knight or whoever would probably shut the door behind them, as it did with the other two.

The Church. -Lore significance: Worships an Angel, quite possibly the same Angel from the Legend ("three heroes appeared to banish the Angel's Heaven"). -Narrative weight: The Dreemurr family went to Church often in the past so this may affect Kris in some way. Also a lot of Alvin's words smell like foreshadowing -Known contents: Nope. The door is blocked by NPCs in both chapters so far. This feels very deliberate; it's not just locked, access is being actively denied to you by other characters. -Vibes: Strong yes vibes -Isekai victims: Father Alvin. Monster kid? (wears a cross). Any other church goers

The graveyard by the Church. This is technically a gate and not a door, the view of it is to the side, so in order for this to work the Dark World entrance animation would have to be different, or the Dark World would have to be created with our protagonists already there. Still, I've seen a lot of talk about this one being a possibility, so I wanted to give it the time of day. -Lore significance: It's near the lore-important Church. Possibly-important dead characters who were also dead in Undertale are buried there. The idea of this does make me wonder though, is it even possible to open a dark world outside? What are the ramifications of that? -Narrative weight: It would harken back to UT's True Lab and the amalgamates. Also Noelle's Ice-E pizza box story might be foreshadowing? -Known contents: Yes. You can enter the graveyard as early as Chapter 1. However, there are some as-yet unseen things there. Namely, the things underground. -Vibes: Idk, how much do you want to lean into Oberon Smog territory? (/lh, no shade to Jaru, i like that theory even if i don't necessarily believe it whole-heartedly). I keep going back and forth on this one, but you caught me on a "maybe" day. -Isekai victims: Father Alvin, Shyren, Snowy, maybe the Wet-Nosed Bandits?

The Bunker, AKA the bane of every Gaster-denier's existence. -Lore significance: It would take five goddamn paragraphs to explain lmao -Narrative weight: see previous statement -Known contents: One of the biggest mysteries -Vibes: Mixed bag. On the one hand, it would be very Toby Fox if we never got to see the inside of the bunker. On the other hand, I don't seriously think he's THAT much of a tease. -Isekai victims: Not sure. Whoever's down there, I suppose. The thought has crossed my mind before that there might already be a fountain down there, but I'd have to seriously think on that some more.

The Hospital -Lore significance: Unsure -Narrative weight: Rudy's failing health and the impact that would have on Noelle if he got worse or died (and we know he died in UT's universe). And if our choices to matter in regards to Berdly's fate or health, that could also be impactful. Noelle villain/redemption arc? -Known contents: Yes, we can enter in both available chapters. There aren't any hidden rooms or locked doors inside as far as we know either. -Vibes: Maybe. It would expand on Noelle and her family if that's going to continue being important (which is likely because Dess). How much can be done with a hospital theme though? (says the person with infinitely less creativity than Toby) -Isekai victims: Rudy, Mouthface (idk what their actual name is), whoever is in the east wing on that particular day (might tie in with events from the previous chapter or Weird Route?)

The school's entrance/main hall -Lore significance: meh -Narrative weight: We've already had a dark world in the school, though further in. Is this necessary? -Known contents: Yes; it's literally one of the first places you see in the game -Vibes: Seems unneeded and redundant, but I wanted to consider it, however briefly, for the sake of thoroughness. -Isekai victims: All students, Alphys, Toriel (second round?)

the gates of hell Ice-E's P"E"zza -Lore significance: God I hope not but that one video by HalfBreadChaos at least got me thinking (here's a link if you don't know what I'm talking about https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftQNVAY6KeU ) -Narrative weight: Noelle's Ice-E trauma courtesy of Kris. Would also have minor connections to UT? -Known contents: Yes, it can be entered in Chapter 2. -Vibes: please no -Isekai victims: Pizzapants, all other employees, customers

The Holiday family's house. Much like the graveyard, this is a gate at an angle, so it doesn't quite fit the bill, but I still wanted to consider it. The front door to the house could also be a double-door for all we know but that's pure speculation. -Lore significance: Noelle's mother having icy vibes seems important in a deeper way. Noelle's potential status as an angel (or the Angel) also gives her lasting importance beyond chapter 2. -Narrative weight: It's important for a lot of characters. It's Noelle's home, Susie's heavily implied love interest's home, Kris' childhood friend's home. Kris has also been there in the past. It would have an impact on the player as well because a lot of players want to know more about the Holidays and Mayor Holiday's importancce and power has been heavily hinted at multiple times. -Known contents: We haven't been past the gate and know next to nothing about the house itself (I think the only thing we know is that there's a piano in there somwhere and that's not much) -Vibes: Seems plausible Isekai victims: Noelle and Mayor Holiday. Maybe Rudy if he's able to go home (unlikely).

The locked doors in the main hall of Ralsei's castle. -Lore significance: A Dark World inside a Dark World? Sounds like Roaring time to me. And consider: "But what if it could... get darker than dark?" Alternatively, this could just be Ralsei's way of entering Dark Worlds disconnected from his own (like Cyber World), and if that's the case then this would be less possible probably. -Narrative weight: We would be coming full-circle, with our adventure starting in the castle and a late-game dark world (because I think it would be late-game) being in the place where we began. It could also pose a threat to the Castle Town we've helped to create and populate (in a Mercy run). -Known contents: Nothing. It's locked for now (side-note, I'm kinda surprised Ralsei doesn't mention it or ask Ralsei why it's locked when you interact with the door. Just seems like something she would do. Or that Ralsei doesn't try to explain, like he does with the barred off staircase upstairs past the gang's rooms.) -Vibes: I can totally imagine this being the fountain that completely topples the balance of light and dark into Roaring territory. It would probably by chapter 7. However, I'm hesitant to say that I'm 100% confident in this, more like 75%. -Isekai victims: Anyone in the castle, really. And they'd probably all turn into stone pretty quickly. Which... happens to be a part of the Roaring prophecy.

Alright, so that's all of the candidates gone over. I think the two most likely candidates are Asgore's flower shop and the Church. Now it's time to discuss the most likely candidates, what order I think they'll come in, and how many more Dark Worlds we're going to visit. That last point might seem odd - there are five more chapters, so four more dark worlds not including chapter 3, right? Not necessarily. I forget who it was, but I remember a Deltarune YouTuber floating around the idea that chapter 4 might be an "intermission" of sorts. Basically a chapter where we don't get a new Dark World. Instead, we just explore and hang out in Hometown with Susie and visit Castle Town. I really like this idea, but it's pure speculation as of now (Speaking of, this is the pure speculation part of this theorycrafting session, so keep that in mind). I can also imagine chapter 7 going one of two ways. Either a particularly bad dark fountain gets opened for the climactic dark world, or there are multiple dark fountains opened and we need to deal with several smaller dark worlds in the final chapter. In the former case, the dark fountain would either have to get out of control very quickly, or it would have to be created in such a way or location that the darkness would immediately overflow. In the latter case, there being multiple dark worlds open at once would cause the balance to shift. Maybe we'd have a time limit in which we have to close them all, or maybe we're too late no matter what we do.

So, with all that out of the way, I'm going to present a few formats that I think the future chapters could take. Due to the unknown variables, I will be doing so in a convenient, hastily cobbled-together two-way table that I made in Google docs.

Which one of these do I believe the most? ...eh, take your pick, honestly.

They all have their plusses and minuses, their points and their flaws. I don't want to get attached to any of these ideas either, since any number of rogue elements could prove me wrong once we get the next three chapters.

Since I kinda need something to close out this post which is more impactful and thought-provoking than that indecisiveness, I guess I should address something I mentioned in the beginning. I posited that maybe the bunker already has a dark world inside of it. Evidence to this point includes: -it plays the Entry Number 17 music slowed down (dark, darker, yet darker) (dark world cell phone audio) -many aspects of its design and vibe are prime dark world potential -Kris seems to know something about the bunker, so if you believe Kris-Knight or that Kris has been to Dark Worlds in the past, this could have merit (I'm not sure how much I believe those theories, but still, food for thought) -It would just be really cool

However, there is a massive flaw with this idea: Ralsei. He claims that the balance of light and dark is shifted by the creation of another dark fountain, and then in chapter 2, he says that he "felt a dark presence" and came to Cyber World to help Kris and Susie. Therefore, he would almost certainly know if there was an active dark fountain in the bunker, and he would have mentioned it by now (it's not the kind of thing you can neglect to mention due to there not being a good opportunity). And I doubt he would be unable to feel the dark presence due to it being too far away or something.

The only way for the bunker to already have a dark world in it and for it to make sense for Ralsei to not bring it up is if he does know and is actively keeping it a secret. Either because he is working with the person making these dark fountains (or at least the bunker fountain), or because that one is actually good to have around... somehow?

I'm a lot more hesitant to accept "Ralsei evil" than some people are, so this doesn't really compel me. So, much like every UT/DR theory I've ever come up with by myself, it looks solid at first but falls apart if you point in its direction too assertively. Still, it made me think. Never hurts to consider this kind of thing.

And with those four hours gone, hopefully I'll be able to think about something else again. Sorry if it's bad Tumblr etiquette for my first post ever to be something so heinously long, I'm new to this lmao. To all 3 people who made it this far in this monster of a post, congratulations for surviving my ramblings.

May the hymn of the Angel sing thee to thy rest.

#deltarune theories #deltarune #probably unoriginal #dark world

15 notes · View notes

roses-adventures · 2 years ago

Photo

This is amazing advice, I studied politics not law, yet. But, from personal experience I know a few things and I'll share them so you know what I did not. Keep in mind all experiences are different but this isn't just my experience others I've talked to have had very similar experiences to mine.

1. You need to read your laws, even if you're the victim. I had a cop lie to Me about the law so I didn't try to get justice on a boy he was protecting, this is when I realized they will lie to you. They will also try to protect certain criminals so again know your rights, know your laws.

2. Do NOT sign non disclosure acts in exchange for "protection". I didn't make this mistake and I wouldn't have but unfortunately after a cop lied to me and I left he ruined any chance at a much bigger cases with multiple victims by offering that he(the cop)and the school would "protect" these victims from our abuser/stalker/rapist etc in exchange for never telling their story. They never protected these people from him, I did. Read everything you sign or better yet don't sign anything without a lawyer present even if you're a victim.

3. If something happens to you and the only people to see it happen are 4 drunk adults, 1 drunk teen from far away and a young teen who saw more because they were only 2ft away they will take the word of the drunk adults and teen. They will not talk to the young teen at all or if they do they will attempt to gaslight. They do not care, if you're under 18 your witnessing is null and void.

4. If someone is dangerous to you but police can't find a weapon, if they live in your home they tell them and you that the dangerous person will be allowed back at the house.

5. Bonus one for things you should know. If someone is going to jail and has say your phone for some reason you more than likely won't get it back Till the persons out.

I know this is mostly case by case basis but I have heard soooo many stories just like mine. People who like me didn't know that they actually did this stuff just thought it was stories my parents or their friends would tell to keep us away from police but once i started interacting it was one bad experience to another. I was always on the victim or witeness or just asking a question side of things, no record, my boyfriend suggests it may be racial profiling or because im low income, and its possible but idk if this is the case for others with similar experiences.

One time Me and a friend of mine went to do a photography shoot in Seattle, we went to pikes place, we had to go at night because I had classes and volunteering and he had work. We park in the pike place garage, it's still light out relatively when we park so everything is easy to see if you know Seattle if you find any parking you're lucky. Anyway we get walking and we head down to the piers, after taking some beautiful shots we decide to head back up towards the car because it's getting late. Now I mention on here that I'm disabled like my body doest work correctly most times but especially not in the cold. We get walking and realize the closest way back up to where the car is, is like 4 blocks in the opposite direction or 7-8 blocks in the right direction but we didn't know exactly if we could go back that way because we werent sure how we came down. me being cold and exhausted from all the walking already we keep moving forward and we get to... stairs. Now it was shortly after this that I was banned from stairs because they're dangerous for me. Anywho we climb the stairs we stop every few min this whole time because I need to catch my breath so it has taken about an hr to even get to the top of those stairs. We knew the car would need to be moved soon so I pushed myself harder and harder continuing through the pain and not being able to breathe. It was so bad just before we got by pike place my friend was offering to carry me the rest of the way because he could tell I was not doing well. I deny him because I'm stubborn. We get to the market and WE LOST THE PARKING GARAGE. So as logic would say to do we decided to ask for help. We both walked up to police in pike place and I said "excuse me officer I am so sorry to bother you but we're not used to Seattle and lost where we parked our car. Where is the parking garage for pike place?" (Mind you pike place market is closed not the garage but the market) this cop looks only at me disgusted and says "well maybe we should remember better next time" in the most condescending voice I have ever heard in my life. He then turns to my friend and Says very kindly "the parking garage is below us just Take the elevator down to two" I say thank you politely though inside I'm fuming and my friend says thank you and we go to the elevator. I proceed to talk to my friend in the elevator about the interaction he didn't notice which isn't new that friends kinda oblivious but it always left a sour taste because I figured cops were only mean to me when I was a victim or witeness but at this point I realized this treatment wasn't because a crime was involved that there's something about Me that cops who don't know my social status, don't know my history or families history don't like. The only differences between my friend and I that night were that I was reddish in my cheeks from the cold and out of breath because I had to walk several blocks with no where to sit between breaks so my hr didn't go below 112bpm the whole time. My friend is pretty fit he is skinny and tall and did roller skating as a sport so he can handle walking long distance with no issues but he never talked to the police until they talked to him and he was still a bit red in the face because it was cold. My friend is also has pretty paleish skin, red Hair and blue eyes. In contrast I am mixed and though my skin is more of a darker olive complexion, my hair is dark and long, my eyes are hazel but in the dark they're brown. I also had an expensive camera in hand both of us did so it was obvious we were doing photography. When I told my bf this story he said without a doubt it's a race thing. Do I know for sure? No. But is it clear that the only thing outwardly different between my friend and I are our race and gender? yes.

I have friends and family in the criminal justice department none are police police. I have had a total of two experiences that were good with police in my entire life my total experiences is more than 10. One of the two was my boyfriend who was in the Canadian police department in the csi department. (I don't think they call it csi but for the lack of my American knowledge i will) and honestly eventhough he worked police department he and I dont consider him police. What i do know is Police will try and screw you over no matter where you stand, criminal or not, record or not, lawyers are important.

388K notes · View notes

artzee-bee · 3 years ago

Text

Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer

Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: kidnapping, death

~~~

Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames

“Don’t start this again!”

“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”

“It was an emergency!”

“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled

“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”

“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.

“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything

~~~

When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.

Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed

“Call me when you can!”

The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.

Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.

“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration

“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”

“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”

“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”

“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!

“How long had she been missing for?”

“4...maybe 5 days…”

“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer

“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct

“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.

“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it.

Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.

That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.

“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.

I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.

You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.

I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“

~~~

It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.

Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound

“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed

“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from

“Lucifer, it's me!”

“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out

“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”

“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”

“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”

Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life

“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault Luci”

“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back

“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar angst #lucifer morningstar

925 notes · View notes

bebepac · 3 years ago

Text

Six Sentence Sunday 03.13.22 / Mood Music Monday

Now that I’m getting back into Posting Six Sentence Sundays again, I had to break out these banners again courtesy of @purpleyin

First, thank you to everyone who have been true blue to me, and have stuck by me while I’ve hit this struggling part in my life.

I feel like writing is finally coming easier to me again, that the writer’s block of my emotions is starting to clear up some, and I feel more motivated to write some things. So here’s what I’m working on this week.

Also here’s what I’ve posted in the last week, in case you missed it:

A Piece of Heaven on Earth: Part 1

Original Post 03/13/22 at 10:15AM EST

Mood Music Monday Submission

Series: A Piece of Heaven on Earth: Part 2

The Book: TRR (no royals)

The Pairing: Liam x Riley (eventually)

Status: Writing for this episode is complete.

Song Inspiration: Here With Me by Dido

Three Months Ago

LIAM

Liam checked the clock. He had taken an afternoon nap and not set his alarm, causing him to oversleep. In addition, traffic was backed up for what seemed like miles. He texted his brother's friend Maxwell to let him know he was going to be late for dinner. His blind date was running late too, Maxwell told him, which made Liam relieved. She was probably caught in the same traffic he currently was, since they were going to the same place. Liam saw the ambulance speed by him in the opposite lane with the lights flashing and the siren on, heading towards the nearest hospital, Mount Sinai. It must have been a horrible accident.

Finally after twenty more minutes he passed the wreckage. It was a Van verses an SUV, and clearly the smaller vehicle got the worst of it. The mangled BMW SUV was being put on a flatbed truck to be towed away. Liam noticed that on the back window there was a little decal that said Dog Mom.

Was she, the one in the ambulance he saw blaze by being rushed to the hospital? Or was she, the unlucky one being put into the other ambulance, by EMTs that appeared to not be in a hurry, lifting someone onto the stretcher completely covered with a white sheet? Liam was sad for a moment. Someone had died, in the accident, and would not get to where they were going tonight, and someone would have to tell their family what happened to them, and that poor family would be devastated, a feeling he knew all too well.

Oh Liv.....

Liam drove slowly around the wreckage as the police officers directed traffic by. Debris from the accident still littered the street, broken glass and taillights were being swept up. Liam arrived at Maxwell’s home, and rang the doorbell. It appeared as if no one was home. He waited for a few more moments looking for movement around the house, when he received a text.

Maxwell: Dinner canceled. An emergency came up. Sorry.

Liam stood there for a moment, still holding the flowers that even in the rain, he had stopped for to pick up for his blind date. Feeling rejected, Liam left and went back home.

Chapter 6: Unhinged

Series: The Rotten Apple 🍎

The Book: TRF and beyond

Pairings: Liam x Riley / Ellie x Nico (Ellie x M!OC)

Status: Writing for this episode is complete.

A few days later Ellie had arranged an appointment with the palace tailor without the Queen’s knowledge. Ellie knew how to command a conversation thanks to watching her mother, and the King could also enthrall an audience with a look and a few words, Ellie followed in their footsteps in that aspect with ease.

“I need to commission you for some work that only needs to come through me. I will be paying for this myself.”

“Yes of course, Your Highness. What exactly is it that you are looking for or will be needing?”

Ellie opened her closet doors, She had tried on everything in her closet, and had separated it into two categories.

“I need your assistance to make alterations to these items.”

The royal tailor looked sympathetic at Ellie.

“So none of these dresses and items currently fit?”

“No. They do not.”

“Some of these, I might not be able to alter.”

“Can they be made a size or so larger?” Ellie had decided that she wanted to keep the baby; she needed her clothes to have room for her to safely grow and have time to convince Nico, they should leave before she was showing significantly. Maybe even not tell her parents about the baby for a bit. She had made up her mind that she was going to tell Nico, when he accompanied her on the trip to the falls. He needed to know, because they needed an exit strategy that would cause the least collateral damage. Ellie planned to finish her education in Greece.

“Is weight loss not an option for you?”

Ellie glanced at the tailor in anger, and did not hold back as her face turned stern and she spoke with the authority that came with her royal status.

“I brought you here to handle a delicate situation for me. If you are not capable of handling the task at hand, I will find someone else that can do a better job than you. You witnessed how the Queen reacted to a very simple alteration job that I needed for my ballgown. I would rather not have her wrath upon me again, for such a small weight gain as you put it.”

“My apologies Your Highness, for asking that question. Some of these may not be able to be altered. I might have to remake them.”

“I can afford it.”

“I think the best way to tackle this, is not to take your whole closet at once. I’ll take a few pieces, and return them, and then pick up more. I figured when you contacted me personally, it was in reference to the previous event, so I proactively brought you several new pieces that will work for you now, that are very similar to current items in your closet.”

“I appreciate your discretion on this subject.”

"Of course, Your Highness. I live to serve the crown."

The tailor put the new dresses into her closet, swapping them out for some of the ones that were too tight.

"I will have these back to you soon."

"As you should, since I am paying you for a service."

Chapter 5: Ice Cream Social

Series: University Student Ellie

The Book: TRH and beyond

Pairings: None

Status: Still in the writing process

Ellie glanced at the time, it was late evening in Cordonia. But she had a feeling her father would still be awake. She decided to text him Thank you. And almost immediately her father responded back. You’re welcome Baby Love.

At home things were always kept in a form of a lock down so to speak for their protection. Everything was always locked, and you just couldn’t walk into a location unannounced or unprotected.

Here on her floor she lived on, everyone had their doors open so people could come visit them and talk. Ellie thought it was strange, but she wanted to be like the others, and people did come by to talk to her. Especially her next door neighbors Jayme and Jes.

“Ali, are you just about ready?”

“Yes, Jayme. I’m putting my shoes on now!”

She could already tell Jayme and Jes apart, which her new friends loved.

“You already know it’s me?”

“Growing up in the twinverse you know to look for the differences. And even though you two look alike, you’re still essentially different people. Jayme, your face, is a tiny bit rounder than your sister’s and you have a scar on your left eyebrow. You’re also right handed, and Jess is left handed.”

“You learned all that in a day? How much will you know about us in a month?”

“I’ve always been observant.”

Just like her father.

“I’ll say.”

Freshman orientation began with music and snacks. Ali stayed close to Jayme and Jess, which they didn’t seem to mind. Ali glanced around the room. Immediately she saw Mel blending in and Stephen both dressed in casual clothes. Mel was standing to the east of her and Stephen to the north. She knew if her plants were there, they would be south and west of her, as a member of the crown is always surrounded in all cardinal directions by the Kingsguard. And they would be shifting ever so often. Ellie tried to pay attention, because she wanted to know who her plants were, but she also wanted to not think about it. So Ellie relaxed.

Their itinerary for the week of freshman orientation had been handed out. Tonight they had an ice cream social at the President’s House.

“What’s an ice cream social?” Ellie asked.

“It’s like an ice cream party and you talk to people. How do you not know that Ali?”

“She’s not from here Jess. They talk in different languages and call things by different things there I’m sure. How many languages can you speak Ali?”

“Five.”

“Holy shit! I can barely speak English good, and that’s just one language.”

“You mean well Jess.” Her sister corrected her.

“Exactly.”

#bebepac writes #six sentence sunday #always more than six #a piece of heaven on earth #the rotten apple #University student ellie #choices fanfiction #cfwc sunday six #mood music monday

77 notes · View notes

a-reader-and-a-writer · 3 years ago

Text

Up in Smoke (Hurt/Comfort Edition)

Day 3: Candlelight

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Word Count: 3144

TW: language, near death situation (mentioned), smoke inhalation

Note: Angst, Hurt/Comfort prompt (happy ending)

I wrote 2 different versions of this same idea.

Both start the same but do take a dramatic shift after a few paragraphs so I would suggest reading both if you are interested.

One is extremely angsty with no happy ending and can be found here.

This current one has angst, but also ends with comfort and fluff.

@amonthofwhump, @reysorigins

Her worried face lit up when she saw him. “Ah, Colonel! I’m so glad to see you! We were all hoping you hadn’t been left up there. But seeing as where the fire started and all, we couldn’t be too sure.”

“No, I’m fine ma’am. I actually just got off of work. Can you tell me what happened?”

Her face dropped. “Oh… I thought you knew. I’m sorry, Colonel, but the fire started in your apartment.”

Rick’s face twisted up in confusion. “My apartment? How did that happen?”

She hesitated, placing a hand softly on his arm. “Your young lady stopped by.”

Rick’s blood ran cold. “No… she wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I told her I would meet her at her place.”

“I saw her this afternoon and she mentioned she was planning on surprising you with dinner when you got home.” Ms. Thompson saw the panic cross his face. “It’s okay, Rick. I saw them carry her out earlier. She looked shaken up but okay. They brought her over by the ambulances.”

Rick gave a quick nod of thanks then hurried up to the cops guarding the barrier. Pulling out his military id, he flashed it at the men.

“I am Colonel Richard Flag, Special Ops. This is my building, and I was just informed my girlfriend was caught up in the fire. I want to see her. Now.” Rick barked the orders gruffly.

The two officers glanced over at each other hesitantly but stepped aside. Rick pushed past them and stormed over to where all the emergency vehicles were parked. But he stumbled to a stop when he saw you sitting on the back step of one of the ambulances, head leaning heavily against the door, eyes closed, and chest heaving as you breathed heavily into an oxygen mask. Ash and soot clung to your face, your hair, your clothes. A blanket was wrapped tightly around your shoulders, covering most of his favorite red dress he had specifically asked you to wear for tonight’s dinner, but the parts of it he could see were barely recognizable through the grime. Heavy bandages were wrapped around both of your hands leading all the way up to your elbows, but you looked relatively unharmed besides that.

One of the EMTs asked you something and you slowly picked up your head to look at him. You nodded then glanced around. Rick saw the instant your eyes landed on him as they grew wide with recognition. You struggled to remove the oxygen mask then shakily rose to your feet, taking a few small steps forward. He dashed to your side in an instant and you collapsed sobbing into his arms. But the sobs soon turned into an intense coughing fit as you struggled to catch your breath. Rick carried you back over to where you had been when he arrived, sat you back down, and replaced the oxygen mask over your head.

Once you caught your breath enough, you cried, “Rick, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! This is all my fault!” Your voice was muffled through the mask, but he could hear how scratchy and hoarse it had become from all the smoke you had inhaled.

“No, darlin’. This wasn’t on you.”

“Yes, it was! I know you really wanted to go out tonight, but I was trying to surprise you with a romantic candlelit dinner at home instead. You’re always so tired after work and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to take me out. But when you still didn’t show up by 8, I decided to take a nap on the couch. I figured you couldn’t be much longer, so I left the food on the table and the candlesticks still lit. One of them must have fallen over or burned all the way down or something because the next thing I knew, the entire apartment was full of smoke.

“The flames were already so high! I didn’t know what to do! All your stuff…” you trailed off, as you miserably hung your head.

He grabbed your shoulders firmly, making you meet his eyes. “I don’t give a damn about any of that stuff. None of it matters. The only thing I care about is that you’re alright.” You leaned your head against his stomach as he draped his towering frame over you, holding you as you sobbed once more.

When you had regained some composure, Rick stood up. He motioned to the bandages on your arms. “How bad is it?”

“Not too bad, they just wanted to be on the safe side. My right palm is the worst. The doorknob was really hot when I tried getting out so it burned it pretty badly. But they think it should heal okay. Possibly light scaring but there shouldn’t be any motor damage. Same with my arms. The damage isn’t as bad there. It just hurts to move them too much.”

Suddenly, Rick heard a voice clearing behind him. A police officer was awkwardly standing behind him, trying to get his attention. “Uh, sir. Could I speak to you for a moment? Over here.”

Rick kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I’ll be right back.” You nodded softly and reluctantly released him from your embrace.

Once Rick and the cop were a fair distance away, the man said. “Listen, we understand she’s been through quite an ordeal, and she might not be thinking clearly. Because of that, we all agreed not to take her statement or log anything she has said. And, although there will be an investigation, you might want to have her think long and hard about what really happened here tonight. Okay?”

Rick nodded. “I understand. Thank you, officer.” He stuck out his hand and the officer took it.

“She seems like a nice girl, but she needs to be smarter when it comes to situations like this. A few more minutes and she wouldn’t be heading home with you tonight.”

Rick nodded again. “Oh, believe me, we will be having a long talk about that.”

The officer gave Rick’s hand one last shake, before heading back to his car. Rick returned to your side. Once again, your head was resting on the side of the ambulance with your eyes closed. They barely flickered open as he took your hand. “Rick, can I go home? I’m so tired.”

Rick looked to the EMT who was packing up the equipment next to you. He just shrugged. “Technically, her O2 stats are back to a reasonable level. She’s probably going to be coughing a lot for the next day or two, and she might have some trouble breathing, but it shouldn’t be too critical. We can take her to the hospital for observation if you want, but I think she should be fine to take home.”

“Okay, thank you. She’ll probably be more comfortable in her own bed tonight. I’ll keep an eye on her and bring her in if she gets worse.”

The EMT smirked and curled his eyebrow as he threw the last of the supplies into the ambulance. “I’m sure you will.”

Rick ignored his comment but the muscles in his neck and jaw twitched. He turned back to you and carefully slipped the oxygen mask off of your face. “Okay, darlin’, I’m takin’ you home. Do you have your car keys?”

You looked up at him as you thought for a minute before tears sprung to your eyes and you softly shook your head. “They were on the kitchen counter.”

“That’s alright. We can take my truck, then come back with your spare keys from your apartment tomorrow. Does that sound okay?” He ran his hand through your filthy hair, breaking up some of the ash that had clumped there.

You nodded and tried to stand, but the effort had you doubled over in a spasm-inducing cough. Rick softly rubbed your back until you were able to catch your breath again. Then, without another word, he bundled you up tightly in his arms and carried you to his truck.

Normally, he knew you would have argued and insisted on walking yourself, but instead, you curled into his chest with a ragged sigh. Once he got you situated in his truck, he headed for the driver’s door. But before he could climb in, the officer from before walked over carrying a familiar looking chest.

“Sorry, son. I forgot to give this to you. She was carrying it when the firefighters found her. We didn’t open it, so I’m not sure what’s in it. However, since it came from your apartment, I don’t see the harm in letting you take it home tonight.”

Rick nodded, “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He took the chest from the man and tossed it in the backseat. He would worry about it later, but for now, he just wanted to get you home.

Your breathing was a little more shaky than usual but not to the point it worried Rick. He still insisted on carrying you up to the apartment though, not placing you down until you both were inside. Luckily, you had given him a key to your apartment last month, so he had no problem getting in. Setting you down gently next to the dining room table, Rick quickly ran back down and retrieved the chest out of the back seat of his truck.

When he returned, you were leaning heavily against the table, your head resting in your hands. Rick walked over and began rubbing your back. You groaned miserably. “My god damn head feels like it is about to split in two. Can you get me some aspirin, please?”

“Sure, darlin’, just wait here.” He quickly went to the bathroom and grabbed the pills from the medicine cabinet before snatching a water bottle from the kitchen.

He was only gone for at most two minutes, but when he returned to your side, you were asleep in one of the dining room chairs. Rick watched as ash slowly drifted off of you as you shifted in the uncomfortable seat.

He knelt down next to you, shaking you slightly to rouse you from your sleep. “Here you go, open up.”

Without opening your eyes, you spread your lips enough for Rick to pop the pills into your mouth. He then poured some water down your throat. Once you had swallowed, you snuggled back into the chair. But Rick was having none of that.

“No, no, no. I know you’re tired, but we need to get you cleaned up, darlin’.”

“No, Rick. Sleep now, clean up later,” you mumbled slurring the words.

“I am not letting you sleep all night in this chair and there is no way you are getting in your bed covered in soot and ash. So, come on.”

Rick once again lifted you into his arms as he carried you into the bathroom. Luckily, you had a huge shower, one that the two of you had often taken advantage of. But tonight, Rick had a different goal in mind. Once he sat you down on the bathroom counter, he helped you strip off the remains of your ruined red dress. He recalled how last night he had promised he would take it off of you after your scheduled dinner, but he just never expected he would be taking it off under these circumstances.

Next, he stripped down to his underwear and lifted you into the shower. You leaned heavily against the wall but managed to stay standing without his help. As quickly but as gently as he could, he began to scrub the filth from your hair and body. The water circling the drain at the bottom of the shower immediately turned a blackish-gray as the horrors of the last few hours are washed from your hair, from your skin. Rick watched as your face relaxed softly, the tension in your frame also washing away in the soothing spray.

You turned and nuzzled your face into Rick’s bare chest, this time not out of exhaustion but out of love and affection. Rick lightly returned the gesture, burying his face into your now clean hair. The smell of ash and soot still lingered slightly but he didn’t care. He just reveled in the fact you were still here, safe and in his arms once again. The two of you just stood there holding each other softly until the hot water started to run out.

After that, Rick helped you out of the shower and began toweling you off. When you seemed dry enough, he hurried to your room to get both of you some clean clothes. Luckily, he had left some of his stuff here in case he decided to stay over at the last minute. He quickly pulled on a pair of lowriding sweats, then grabbed you some fresh pajamas out of your dresser before hurrying back to the bathroom.

Once he helped you get dressed, he led you carefully back to the bedroom. The shower had woken you up enough for you to insist on walking there by yourself. But Rick still kept one arm tight around your waist, just in case. He helped you carefully into bed, then climbed in beside you.

As the two of you laid in bed facing each other, you softly whispered, “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

“Darlin’, what is there to be mad at?”

“I burned down your apartment! All your stuff! I would be pretty mad if someone did that to me!”

“I told you before, it’s all just stuff. Does it suck? Sure, but I can always buy more stuff. But I can’t buy another you. And you are going to be okay, so that’s the only thing I care about.” Rick hesitated for a moment. “You are okay, right? You haven’t really talked about what happened. I’m sure the whole thing must have been scary.”

You ran your fingers across Rick’s cheek. “There was a moment when I didn’t know if I was going to get out or not. I should have been terrified, but I wasn’t. I was only sad.”

“Sad?”

“Yeah. I was so sad that I wasn’t going to see you again. That I was about to lose the life we had talked about having together. And I… I couldn’t let that happen. It was that thought that kept me going when I almost gave up. That I had to get back to you.”

Rick wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. “I know exactly how you feel, darlin’. I have the same thought on every mission. I refuse to be taken out because that means I’ll be losing you, and I won’t ever let that happen.”

You snuggled deeper into him as you whispered, “I love you, Rick.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

When Rick woke up the next morning, you were still unconscious to the world around you. He carefully slid out of bed and padded softly into the living room. As he grabbed the paper from outside, he noticed the chest you had saved from his apartment sitting next to the front door. He lugged it over to the couch and opened the lid. What he saw inside took his breath away.

It was everything he would have wanted to save from his place. His military medals, the flag he had been given when his father was killed in action, the photo album that contained the only picture he had of his grandparents, the stuffed monkey he won you on your first date that you snuggled with when you slept over. It was all there, perfectly protected within the sturdy chest. You had known exactly which irreplaceable items he would have mourned the loss of most.

Even though it had gone horribly wrong, everything you had done, from planning the dinner to saving the box of his possessions, had been for him. Because you loved him. And he loved you so fucking much, the thought of how close he had gotten to almost losing you last night still send shivers down his spine. He quickly stood and rushed down the hall. In that moment, he was hit with an uncontrollable need to see you. To prove to himself you had made it out safe and you were okay.

Bursting through the bedroom door, he almost collapsed in relief when he saw you still laying there. You jerked awake as the door slammed into the wall. Staring at Rick in the doorway, bare chest heaving and eyes wild, you raised a sleepy eyebrow.

“Hey, baby. Is everything okay?” Your voice was still a little hoarser than normal, but much better than last night.

Rick took one more long look at you in all of your splendor before answering, “Darlin’, it’s never been better.” He leapt onto the bed and wrapped you tightly into his arms, silently swearing he would never let you go again.

#amow twelve days of whumpmas #day 3 #candlelight #fic #rick flag #rick flag x reader #joel kinnaman #rick flag x f!reader #colonel rick flag #rick flag x you #angst #angst tw #dc #dc x reader

130 notes · View notes

goodgirlofglory · 4 years ago

Text

That which lingered on his mind / Chapter 1

Prologue - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,7k

Warnings: 18+, Non-con, dub-con, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, Graphic descriptions of violence, bondage (bound wrists), oral (f receiving), asphyxiation (choking), Cumplay, Some graphic descriptions of blood.

Chapter summary: Steve Rogers, Captain America and your former neighbor, used to harbour some secret feelings for you before he was turned into a Hydra asset. Now he’s come back to claim what he cannot rid himself of: his desire for you.

Author’s note: This one came to me a dark January night and hasn’t let me go since. This series will be about 7-8 chapters, so stay tuned! Not beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. My work is not to be distributed anywhere but my blog. Reblogs are welcome, though. And I so appreciate reading your replies and tags<3 hope you enjoy ;)

It started out as any other night. You had a cup of tea and scrolled through your phone for a while before a violent yawn told you it was time for bed.

It was a normal night.

Until you stood face to face with Captain America. Or at least, who you thought was Captain America. America’s hero and your former neighbor.

You had never really paid any attention to news about the Avengers or Mr. Rogers, and had never been one to socialize with neighbors. He lived across the hall from you and was quiet and polite, never drawing more attention to himself other than a smile and a curt greeting now and then.

That was until he disappeared off the grid about four months ago. It was all the news could talk about for a good three weeks. Gossip in the building also started flourishing. Where had he gone? What happened? Was he dead?

Apparently not, for there he stood, silent as the grave, inside your apartment, half shrouded in darkness, blocking your way to the bedroom.

You didn’t really know what his uniform used to look like either, but from what you could remember he used to have a star on his chest, and not the squid looking emblem he now bore. His face was also an unusual sight, jaw covered in a gruff beard, hair long and pushed back. But worse were the eyes; steely, cold and intent on you.

Had it only been good ol’ Captain America standing uninvited in your home you would have been scared. But this. This chilled you to the bone.

What the fuck was going on?

Your body froze as you stared at the man, who made no effort to speak nor move. Finally you found your voice.

“Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing in my apartment? Please leave before I call the police.”

You tried to sound tough, but your voice shook slightly at the last word. He must have picked up on that, for his otherwise dead eyes gained a slight glimmer.

“Please do. Their deaths will be on your shoulders.”

A small gasp caught in your throat. You were starting to become terrified. This was absolutely not the Captain America you had seen on the news nor the Steve Rogers you had greeted in the hallway.

“Actually, don’t bother, you’ll never reach your phone,” he continued, sounding far too nonchalant for the ominous aura he was putting off.

Your eyes widened when you remembered leaving your phone on the living room table, all the way across the room behind you.

What should you do? Run for it anyways? Scream for help? You opted for a seemingly less provoking approach.

“What do you want?” you asked, tears starting to involuntarily form at the corners of your eyes.

His eyes seemed to darken somehow, setting themselves on you with deadly weight, piercing your soul.

“You.”

Your fight reflex kicked in before you could think, and you lunged for the front door across the living room behind you.

But you barely got a few steps in before a thick arm snaked around your waist and janked you back to hit painfully against a hard, unrelenting body. You managed to shriek in fear before a second hand, big enough to cover both your mouth and nose slammed down on your face and muffled your cries, knocking your lips against your teeth. You tasted blood.

You kicked, hit and scratched at your assailant's body, but gained only a mocking snicker in response. His mouth came down to whisper in your ear, sending ice cold shivers down your spine.

“Please, keep fighting, it only makes this more enjoyable.”

You sobbed into his coarse hand, tears springing free from your eyes, wetting the skin of his fingers.

He tsked

“Cuing the waterworks. He wouldn’t like that,” he breathed into your ears and tightened his grip on your face, effectively cutting off your air supply. You squirmed against his arms in panic, new tears falling, not managing to move him even an inch. His grip remained as tight as iron.

As your vision blurred and you slipped into dark unconsciousness, you kept wondering what he meant by “he”.

You awoke groggily, feeling the muscles in your arms ache as they lay over your head. You usually woke up with your arms thrown over your head, so it took a few seconds to remember what had happened.

When you did, your body surged upwards, but was promptly janked back against the bed. Looking up, you registered for the first time that both of your wrists were bound to the bedpost above your head, using the bondage ropes you had gotten as a joke a few years back. Looking down you saw that you were still fully clothed, with your oversized UNI t-shirt and cotton shorts.

The knot looked intricate and a few janks told you it was secure as well.

Your breathing started to race as you understood you were stuck, and a cry ripped itself from your lungs at the realization.

“Ah-ah-ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a calm voice came from across the room.

“HELP,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, ignoring the man who sat in the chair in the corner. It felt good to defy him, if only for a split second.

He made no indication that your behaviour bothered him, his stare as even as ever.

“I will kill anyone who enters this apartment,” he said calmly. “You don’t want to endanger any of your good neighbors' lives. That’s not who he perceived you to be. I, on the other hand, have no problem killing everyone in this building if it helps you understand what is happening here.”

“And what the fuck is happening here exactly?” you snarled, still janking at the knot around your wrists, bound just a little too tightly.

He smirked at that.

“Feisty, just like I hoped. It’s more...fun if I can break you first,” he mused.

He got up from the chair and moved over to the bed. When he got close enough you kicked out at him, and you would have hit him right in the gut if he hadn’t caught your foot. Not that it would affect him, you bitterly thought after.

He looked almost amused before twisting your foot around until you shrieked in pain.

“Oh,” he cooed, “remember to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to come checking in on you, would we?”

He let go of your foot, and you recoiled in the pain that shot up through your body. A sob escaped your gritted teeth.

He snickered.

“Pathetic. But I do see the appeal.”

He leaned forward and grabbed your jaw in a harsh grip, making you look him in the eyes as he leaned in so close his breath brushed across your face. There was a slight hint of mint to it.

“What's happening here, sweetheart, is that I’m gonna get some things out of my system.”

His hand let go of your jaw and moved down to slightly encircle your throat, lingering like a taunting threat. Your throat constricted instinctively at the presence of his calloused hand. A smirk played at his lips as you squirmed under his light touch.

“I’m going to fuck you, Y/N”.

You thrashed at that, nausea setting in your stomach, your skin prickling as the words landed.

“No, no, no, please,” you started to mumble in your panicked state, janking more desperately on the knot around your bound wrists.

“Oh yes, and the more you fight, the worse it’ll be for you,” Steve smirked as he moved around the back of the bed and started to climb onto it, grabbing your kicking feet with ease, straddling your thighs.

Helpless to stop it, you watched as he took a fistful of your shirt in both his hands and ripped the fabric open, split down the middle, exposing your stomach and chest underneath. In the chilly night air your nipples hardened and goosebumps spread across your skin.

You saw the feral expression that grew behind his eyes.

He only hummed in response to your desperate whine, before letting a hand flitter up your hip.

His fingers stroked lightly up your torso, following every dent and bump, and you shivered at how soft it was in contrast to his earlier brutality.

Your breath hitched in your throat and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“Does that feel good?” he asked in a low murmur, smugness shining in his eyes, mockery dripping from his voice..

You shut your mouth and bit the inside of your cheek, tears welling in your eyes, trying to quell the impulse to scream.

You had no doubt in your mind that no one in your building could overpower the super soldier, and you were terrified he would keep his word.

You couldn’t let anyone else die.

A painful tweak of a hardened nipple brought you back to the room, and you cried out.

“Don’t disappear now, I need you present for this,” he instructed in a patient voice, almost like you were a disobedient child.

He bent down then, and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth while his hands landed on either side of your head, caging you in.

The sensation of his hot and wet mouth in contrast to the cold air of the room sent sparks flying through your body and, more horrifyingly, down between your legs. You bit your tongue out of shame, and tried to squirm away from his wanton mouth. It took only a single hand of his on your chest to effectively pin you down as he continued his ministrations on your nipple, sucking, licking and teasing with his teeth.

He radiated warmth hovering over you like that, his hand a searing presence on your skin, no doubt feeling how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage.

His smell filled your nose, musky, with hints of smoked wood and cedar, and something familiar and sweet - your own perfume. Did he go into your bathroom? Did he use your perfume on himself?

His mouth moved up your chest and to your neck, and he was so close, so overwhelming.

You squirmed slightly at his approach, but noticed that in this position, pinned under his thighs like you were, the fabric of your panties caught on your core, dragging along the awakened skin, and to your horror you could feel the slick starting to gather there. You stifled a whimper, face burning with dread and newly bloomed shame.

His beard scratched your throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply.

“There’s that smell,” he murmured with a throaty sigh, “that smell he couldn’t get out of his head”.

What was he on about? Who was “he”?

Your mind raced with questions as his tongue started to lap at your throat, leaving open mouthed and sloppy kisses to your sensitive skin.

You closed your eyes and tried to resist, tried to fight your body’s reaction to his stimulation, but as his teeth nipped at a particularly sweet spot, your whole body shuddered involuntarily and a small gasp escaped your mouth.

His face snapped up from your neck, piercing blue eyes finding yours teary and terrified - and no doubt dilated.

He straightened after a second, and shimmied off from where he was still stradling your thighs. As soon as your legs were free, you started kicking out at him, rage and defiance surging, trying and failing to hit him in the chest as he effortlessly caught both your ankles and gathered them in one hand.

He leaned forward, face smooth and emotionless, and landed an open handed slap across your face a second later.

Your head whipped to the side, and your breath left your body for a second as your head swam, a high pitched ringing filling your ears.

You gasped in shock, your whole body going stiff as pain spread from your cheek.

You had never been hit before, and especially not that hard. Tears sprang forth from your eyes as it dawned on you how utterly fucked you were.

“Let that be a warning,” he said in a calm voice, seemingly not affected in the slightest by the violence he was so willingly dishing out.

The fight was out of you for now, and you could only breathe through the sharp pain that lingered on your face as he moved in between your thighs.

Sitting back on his haunches he started to remove the tactical suit on his torso, impatiently ripping at the fastenings as his eyes never left your face, red, swollen and wet from your tears.

You averted your gaze, disgusted by him, disgusted by yourself, desperately trying not to reveal your body’s reaction to his.

When he was completely naked from the waist up, his hands turned to your sleeping shorts, removing them with deft haste and surprising softness before leaning back again, his touch leaving your body.

Several seconds went by without any action, and your curiosity gained the better of you. Turning your eyes to him, you found him studying your body. His face was as blank as ever, but his eyes betrayed some sort of sentiment you hadn’t seen before.

“He used to dream about you,” he said after a while, seemingly more to himself.

He bent forward once he realized you were watching him, caging you in again as he hovered over you, moving closer and closer.

Face still stinging from his slap, you didn’t dare move even a muscle as his lips found yours. It started slow, but soon he grew impatient, and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot, wet and dominating, moving languidly against your own.

Breathless and reeling, a small whimper left your mouth, and the responding groan that emitted from his throat rumbled through you.

While still moving his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands reached down and you felt the distinct calloused warmth of his touch to the inside of your thigh.

A small, panicked “no” croaked out of you, but he only swallowed it eagerly, not letting up his touch as it zeroed in on your core.

You could feel his fingers touching the cotton covering you, and by the breathy laughter he huffed against your mouth, he no doubt felt how wet it was.

“Oh, doll, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest,” he mocked as he leaned back again and looked down at your ruined panties.

You tried to hide your burning face in the nook of your elbow as he ripped your panties off before bunching them up in his hand and bringing them to his face. But his eyes caught yours in a steel grip as he inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second before a pleased sigh left his lips.

You watched as his tongue swiped at the wet patch of the fabric before he put the panties in his pocket.

You thrashed at his obscene actions, nausea burning hot in the pit of your stomach, mixing with your undeniable arousal.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

As your mind raced against the reality of the situation, Steve laid down on the bed between your legs. His mouth attacked your pussy.

A squeak escaped your mouth, hands janking at the knot around your wrists as he started devouring you, mouth moving between your clit and weeping wound with urgency, almost desperation.

A full on groan left his mouth as he lapped at the juices that were steadily leaking from you.

His hands found your breasts and started teasing your nipples, and you tried to squirm away.

You needed him to stop, you needed this assault on your senses to cease, because you could feel your resolve burning away as sweet, untainted pleasure started spreading through your body.

Steve’s tongue swept up and swirled around your clit, and you tried inching away. One of his hands gave your breast a sharp slap before tweaking your nipple painfully again. Another warning. You headed it.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, but in contrast to the last time it almost sounded like he cared.

You shook your head weakly.

He chuckled against your mound and gave your breast another slap, sending jolts of pain through your chest.

“Don’t lie,” he warned, but there was surprisingly little malice in his voice. “But nevermind. This pretty, swollen, soaked cunt tells me all I need to know,” he said almost fondly before giving your clit a few licks.

“Give in, Y/N, I can feel how much you want to,” he taunted in between licks and all you could do was lay still and take it, new tears streaking from your eyes and wetting the hair at your temples as you squeezed them shut.

He was right. You couldn’t deny the pleasure he was wringing from your body.

“I’m going to stay still now, and you move however you want,” he said then, before doing just that.

Somehow, having him stop was more torture than what he had been doing, and your stubborn pride, your better judgement and the stinging feeling of violation that burned in your chest fought against your body’s sudden need for stimulation - for his stimulation.

Something in you snapped, and you tentatively moved your hips so your clit could find his tongue, stretched out waiting for you.

You shivered.

It felt good.

You rolled your hips again, more firmly this time, and the resulting swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bud of nerves had your breath leaving your body in a shaky exhale.

His hands gave your breasts an encouraging squeeze, before resuming their attention on your nipples, and you moved your hips with more fervor.

Before long you were grinding yourself on his mouth, breaths coming out in puffs as your eyes stayed shut, losing yourself in the hot feel of his tongue.

Desperation grew as you could feel that distinct coil tighten in your abdomen, and every draw of breath fueled the build up.

Not thinking anymore, you bucked your hips on him in repeated motion, lingering on the edge of the abyss, searching for that which would make the coil snap.

A desperate whimper left your mouth and as a response, a rumbling groan from his throat vibrated right through you and you fell head first into your orgasm, entire body shuddering violently as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

He was on you as you came down, lapping up your release and groaning as you trembled at the overstimulation. He was frantically groping at your waist and hips, strong arms and hands grounding you as you floated on the aftershocks of your high.

The moment the orgasm faded from your foggy mind, it fell in on itself.

How could you let yourself give in like that?

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind trying to escape the whole thing, if only for a moment, go far far away, go numb, go blank.

You weren’t allowed more than a few seconds reprieve, however, as you faintly heard him rustling around before you felt pressure at your entrance.

Before you had time to protest, Steve pushed his cock into you, giving a pleased huff as your body squeezed instinctively, drawing him in even more.

Your eyes shot open and met his - wild and pleased.

“There she is,” he said with dark glee as he breathed hard.

You fought to draw breath as your body seared with pain of the intrusion. His girth was more than you could take. It was all you could do to handle the stretch of his cock bottoming out, pushed inside you to the hilt.

“Feel that? Feel how your willing cunt is swallowing me like that, inviting me in?”

He started to move a second later, not giving you any time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that sent sparks of pain up through your body.

You cried out at the agony, nails digging into your own palms.

Above you, Steve growled as he bared his teeth at you, slamming his hips against yours.

His cock was rock hard as it speared you, and he only seemed to grow harder at your pained cries.

Through the pain and your strained whimpering sounds, you faintly heard him mumble.

“- all those incessant thoughts about you….never like this….if he only fucking knew...ripe for the taking, and the bastard didn’t as much as ask you out...”

His hand seized your throat as he stuffed his face into the crook of your neck again, inhaling fervently. Hitched breaths was the only thing that escaped you at this point, as he kept up his torturing pace, abusing your pussy without halt.

“- That fucking smell in the hallway...never escaping it...fuck…gonna fuck those thoughts right out...”

Was “he” Steve? Was he rambling about himself? Or at least, who he used to be?

The pain had slowly subsided as you’d listened to the man’s crazed rambling, and a deep onslaught of pleasure was starting to make itself known with each punch of Steve’s cock. Soon your body started to tremble, and you fought against the coil starting to build again.

Steve shifted his hips to run his hands down your sides, and the new angle hit the spot deep within you that made your breathless.

Your mouth opened in a complete and utter moan, and Steve’s head snapped up from your neck, something akin to surprise in his eyes as he took in your face.

“That’s the spot, isn’t it?” he asked, and his voice was thick with pleasure.

You tried to avert your eyes, but his hand shot up and gripped your jaw, pulling your face so close that your breaths mingled. His stare locked yours in an iron grip.

His thrusts slowed, and he rolled his hips, reaching deep, so deep inside you, and a pleasured sigh left your lips to fan across his lips as he found that spot again.

“Look at you. Steve would never think of you like this - he respected you. Little did he know you were a cock hungry little masochist,” he husked, pupils deep pools of dark desire. Your cheeks burned as you clenched around him at his words.

He grunted, letting his eyes fall close for only a second, and you noticed how his long and beautiful eyelashes fanned across his cheek.

“Let’s see how much you can enjoy this, huh?” he asked in an almost mocking tone as one of his hands reached down to where his body was rutting into yours, and his thumb found your clit.

You cried out as he started an unrelenting circling of the sensitive bud, and he mouthed at your jaw as he hummed in response.

In the back of your mind a small voice was telling you to fight, to gnaw and hit and thrash until he understood that you didn’t want this. Another voice was arguing that you would only be hurt further if you fought more. There was no getting away from his intent and no overpowering him.

A louder voice was whispering that it was okay to give in. Give in to the way he felt on your skin, the way he moved in you, the way he looked at you. Give in to the pleasure.

Your orgasm washed over you like a warm wave, spasming through every muscle as they sung with exhilaration. A shuddering groan left your lips and your pussy pulsed around Steve’s cock. He growled as he crushed his lips to yours, and you opened yours willingly, moving your tongue against his in a wet and sloppy kiss.

“Good,” he praised in a groan after breaking the kiss, and to your surprise, something akin to pride bloomed deep in your chest at his praise.

You were completely lost in the pleasure now, in the drag of his cock against your trembling walls, his musky og smoky scent and those blue, lust-blown eyes piercing you.

His pace quickened again, and you could tell by the way his muscles tensed that he was closing in on his own release.

“I can feel you fluttering, doll. Listen to the sounds this pretty pussy makes. Maybe I should keep you?” he mused darkly, a small wicked grin on his lips.

For a moment terror flashed across your eyes. Keep you? In the back of your mind the pain of your still bound wrists alerted you of the implications of that notion. Your cheek was still burning hot from his earlier “warning”.

As if he read your mind, he sneered.

“Take what he never had. Continue to take what he never had. Make you mine, let you have my cock every time I want, keep this tight pussy on a leash”.

You heaved for breath as his thrusts grew frantic, and he raised himself to his haunches, hands a bruising grip on your hips as he looked down at you.

Under the dim moonlight his muscles rippled, shining in a layer of sweat, his hair disheveled and falling into his face, and those eyes, forever shaking the bones in your body.

Your name ghosted on his lips as his brows furrowed and your back arched as your third orgasm seized you by every muscle in your body, your head thrown back in a desperate, strangled whine.

“Fucking shit,” he exclaimed through gritted teeth, and as your cunt pulsed around him, you drew his orgasm right out of his body.

He gave a few stuttering thrusts before stilling, thrust to the hilt inside you. Through the blood coursing in your ears you heard his snarl as he emptied himself in you.

For a moment his face completely stilled, eyebrows raised, eyes fluttered shut, mouth slightly open. In that moment, you swore you recognised your former neighbor, Steve Rogers, Captain America in those features.

But in a moment he was gone, and this Steve, whoever he was, was leaning forward to crush his mouth on yours.

Still coming down from your high, you eagerly opened your mouth for him in a rather intimate kiss, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of your face.

You almost sighed at the softness of it all when his teeth caught your bottom lip and bit hard enough to draw blood. You yelped in pain as the iron taste filled your mouth and he let you wrench your way out of the kiss, snickering as he leaned back up and licked some of your blood off his lips. His eyes were wicked as he pulled himself out of you.

The emptiness he left behind was both a relief and a disappointment, even as your lip stung. You licked at the cut, wondering just what brand of danger had forced himself into your bed.

“God, what a sight,” he murmured above you, fingers dipping down to spread your nether lips apart as his cum dribbled out of you.

Embarrassment burned your face as he looked on, perverted astonishment painting his features.

Two fingers swiped your slit, gathering both of your releases on them before bringing them up to your mouth.

When you did nothing but stare at him, he simply whispered “open”.

You obeyed, holding his gaze, and he pushed his fingers slowly into your mouth. The mix of the iron of your blood, the salt of his cum and the tangy taste of yourself made your face scrunch up, and he hummed low in his chest.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, face emotionless but for the shining sin of his eyes.

You couldn’t help yourself, you nodded.

The corners of his mouth twitched up at that, approval coating his features.

“Oh, I’m gonna keep you, alright,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers down your torso.

As his fingers slowly caressed you, exhaustion drizzled over you, your vision blurred, and you fell into unconsciousness.

When you awoke, bright daylight was shining in through your window.

The soreness piercing your muscles was like nothing you had ever felt before, but the sleep had been even deeper, sitting like a pleasurable hum in your bones.

You remembered immediately what had happened in the night and was relieved to find that your wrists were no longer bound. The bruises, purple and pink, would probably last for weeks.

The ache deep in your core made your gut wrench in remembered dread, but somehow there was a feeling of anticipation there as well.

A quiet voice inside you whispered that you hoped he would stay true to his word, and come back.

Author’s note: Christ. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a blood kink brewing inside me.

Taglist:

@thedaughterofwandavision , @hellotvshowtrash

If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a note on any of my fics or send me an ask<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x Y/N #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #captain hydra #captain hydra x reader #captain hydra x Y/N

406 notes · View notes

randomperson351 · 3 years ago

Text

Turn them away - LD + TR

Summary: Theo adjusts to his new life with Liam, they have a few hiccups along the way, but that’s to be expected when one of them is an escaped psycho with serious attatchment problems.

Note: Read Madhouse as a prequel, this is a part 2.

Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs get blocked.

Masterlist Asks

“Theo?”

A feral grin cracked over his lips. His head tilted down so that his ear was almost touching his shoulder.

“Isn’t it getting a bit late for little wolves like you to be up and about?”

“Yeah um- yeah.”

“I’ll be waiting upstairs for you to finish up.”

Liam watched Theo turn and walk soundlessly upstairs. Perhaps more disturbingly, he could then hear how Theo walked straight into Liam’s room, with no hesitation about it’s location.

“Liam? Liam!” The sheriff was still on the phone, his voice echoed through the speakers.

Liam kept his eyes on the stairs and raised his hand to answer the Sheriff’s call. “I’m gonna need to call you back in just a second Sheriff.”

“No Liam wait-”

He ended the call and followed cautiously up the stairs and waited outside his room where light was spilling out from underneath.

“I can hear you freaking out, little Alpha. Come on, in you come.”

Liam pushed his door open to see a relaxed looking Theo led on his bed with his window flung wide open. Well that was how he got in then. Only he clearly didn’t come in alone based on the jacket that was haphazardly thrown on the corner of his bed.

“Who else is here?”

“Was here. There’s a housewarming present in the bathroom.”

What he found was no present to him. The police deputy, the one who was supposed to be on the way to Liam’s, was in his bathtub, throat slit and lifeless. Liam figured this might be a good time to call the Sheriff back.

“Baby, what’s the matter? You don’t like it?” Theo called from his bedroom.

“No no, yes it’s certainly...unique. I just need to take a quick shower while I’m in here.”

Liam turned on the shower, took out his phone and called the Sheriff’s mobile number, instantly being picked up.

“Liam! Are you okay, is the deputy there yet?”

“About that Sheriff, there’s a crazy man in my bed and a dead man in my bathtub.”

“I’m coming out there Liam, just keep him close for now and we’ll deal with it as soon as I get there.”

“No! You can’t come here now, especially not alone.” Liam hesitated, seeing tehe outcome bleeding into his bathtub. “I’ll be fine on my own for tonight and we can figure something out in the morning.”

“Little wolf?” Theo called through the door.

“Yeah, coming!”

“You will be.”

“Liam it is not safe for you in that house on your own. Parrish is coming with me-”

“Sheriff he’ll kill you before you set foot on the driveway.”

Noah was silent as Liam’s words washed over him. He knew what Raeken was capable of and while he wasn’t thrilled about having to meet him face to face, he would do it for the pack.

Liam worried that he’d somehow offended the Sheriff and scrambled to rectify his response.

“He won’t hurt me Sheriff. That I can promise you.”

The Sheriff sighed in resignation. “Alright. First thing tomorrow, Parrish and I are going to be breaking down your door.”

“Fine. Goodnight Sheriff.”

“Take care kid.”

Liam hung up and turned the shower off. He turned on the cold water and rinsed his face with his hands, taking a minute to breath.

The locked door nudged with force from the other side.

“Liam, you’ve been in there a while.”

Shit. The wolf quickly dried his hands and unlocked the door, faced with a panicked looking chimera.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was mad, but then you sent them away for me.” Theo replied, turning around and getting comfortable on Liam’s bed. He’d also changed out of his clothes and taken the liberty of borrowing some of Liam’s clothes to sleep in.

“Sent them away?” Liam tiptoed closer.

“The Sheriff and his deputy. You were right you know; I would’ve killed them before they even got here."

Liam gulped and tried to keep a calm persona about him. It wouldn't do any good to start wolfing out now.

"You're alright, little love. I told you, I was angry but then you turned them away so we could have a night together unhindered," Theo lifted a side of the duvet and patted the mattress, "Bedtime."

Turning out all the lights and cautiously making his way over to the bed, Liam changed out of his jeans and stayed as close to the edge of the bed as he could. Not that that would matter.

"I don't bite little one. Unless you ask me to."

Strong arms wound round him and pulled him further into the middle of the bed.

"Night night Li."

"Goodnight Theo."

Bring on tomorrow.

Part 3

Part 4

#randomperson351 #thiam #theo raeken x liam dunbar #liam dunbar x theo raeken #feral!theo #crazy theo #season 6 #dubcon cuddling #dangerous theo raeken #background sheriff stilinski #unaliving #descriptions of a dead body #implied violence #violence not against liam #do not repost #madhouse part 2

14 notes · View notes

a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years ago

Text

Up in Smoke (Hurt/Comfort Edition)

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: Rick feels terrible when he has to work late and misses dinner with you, but he is in for a terrible surprise when he gets home.

Word Count: 3144

TW: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Language, Near Death Experience (mentioned), Smoke Inhalation, Happy Ending

Notes: I wrote 2 different versions of this same idea. Both start the same but do take a dramatic shift after a few paragraphs so I would suggest reading both if you are interested.

One is extremely angsty with no happy ending and can be found here.

This current one has angst, but also ends with comfort and fluff.