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hyperfixated-gvf · 1 year

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Blame It on the Mistletoe

On the first day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A jealousy fic with mutual pining and friends to lovers too!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Mistletoe" by Justin Bieber

Trope: Jealousy

~~~

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, semi-public sex, possessive/jealous themes

Words: 5.2k

Author's Note: Let's start with a big one and end with a big one - here's a toast to the start of another 12 Days of Tropemas! 🥂 You can find the Tropemas 2022 masterlist underneath the 'Series' section at the bottom of my pinned Masterlist!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

There were three facts about the night that contributed to bringing you to where you were currently. And where you were just happened to be lip-locked with Danny Wagner in the middle of a corporate party.

Fact #1: You came here as Josh’s plus one.

Fact #2: You were tired of waiting for Josh to give you an indication (literally anything would have sufficed) that he saw you as more than a friend.

Fact #3: Despite it being a major health risk around the talent that had already proven being sick wasn’t going to help anybody, there were plenty of mistletoe sprigs planted in the most inconvenient of places.

Like here, at the end of the bar where you picked up your poison of choice. You were already a couple of Amaretto sours deep, and Josh had gone off to schmooze with an older gentleman that you vaguely recognized as one of the senior sound tech guys, which left you a little lonely, a little bitter, and wanting another drink. So, in the spirit of the open bar, you got one.

And then, long story short, Danny had bumped into you, winked, made a crude joke before pointing up at the decoration in bad taste, and then kissed you.

And you kissed him back, because why the hell wouldn’t you?

It was over all too soon, and he pulled back chuckling, a drunken flush settled high on his cheeks. “Now don’t go falling in love with me,” he warned jokingly, already starting to drift away, back to where he had been listening to an old gramophone with Jake. “I’ve been told I have magic lips!”

Already in a better mood than before, you laughed and shook your head. “Sure you do,” you called back to him, taking a rather long sip from your newly poured drink.

It wasn’t a minute later that Josh wandered up to you, standing closer than he normally did. “Having fun?” he asked lightly, only maintaining eye contact for a second before he looked down to where he was swirling his liquor against the sides of his glass.

You dipped your head with a raise of your brows. “Always,” you said dryly. “Although the bar has been a considerable player in that evaluation.”

Josh mumbled something that you were a little slow to catch; you were settling into a nice buzz, and it was loosening the lock on the box that kept your feelings of insecurity and resentment that developed as a result of you somehow tricking yourself into thinking that Josh would ever see you as more than what you were now.

Just friends.

“You what?” you asked, bringing your ear closer. Josh took a deep breath through his nose, and then looked away.

“Nothing.”

You were glad that perhaps your allusion to not having a good time when he wouldn’t pay you any attention caused him to stick close for a while. You weren’t familiar with the people here, and having Josh to talk to and laugh with, once he loosened up a little bit (which, considering you hadn’t even yelled at him, you weren’t sure why he seemed so uptight in the first place) was a blessing.

But even fun events like these were still work functions, and Josh was pulled into another dull conversation with one of the few journalists that had been invited eventually, leaving your eyes to wander and attention to stray towards something – anything – that would be more fun than listening to Josh tell the same story you’d heard six times over the course of the night.

And, like a beacon of light, you just so happened to catch sight of Sam through the doorway where a live band was playing soft, jazzy Christmas tunes.

Sam was always a fun time.

You drifted away from Josh and followed the call of music. “You look a little lonely,” you teased once you got close enough, and Sam tore his eyes away from the band to smile at you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, moving over so that you could both watch from the center. “Yeah, Mom and Dad just left with Ronnie, but I just really like this song. I wanted to hear it before getting back to work.”

You scoffed at his loose terminology, but listened closely and finally picked out the melancholy melody of I’ll Be Home For Christmas. “It’s a good song,” you agreed.

Watching the musicians play, you caught the eye of a trombone player, and she smirked from behind her instrument before nodding her head upwards. At first, you thought that it was a part of the showmanship, but then she did it again, even more pronounced, and you looked up.

Mistletoe.

You were already one down on the list, what was the harm in making it two?

“Hey, Sammy, look,” you said, drawing his attention to the same spot. “Give me a little sugar, Sugar.”

He chuckled and hesitated just a bit, brow furrowing, but just as the song ended and you were about to pull away and laugh the rejection off, softly gave you a platonic peck, drawing a small cheer from the band, who cried out that you were couple #4 of the night that had been caught under the lover’s décor.

Sam tilted his head when you looked back at him from laughing along with the band. “Where’s Josh?”

“Here! Sorry, got caught up in a little business. Y/N is just…on a streak tonight, aren’t you?” Josh chuckled tightly, catching you by the hand as he approached from behind. “I can’t let you out of my sight for even one minute, can I?”

You deadpanned. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem for you,” you said petulantly as Josh dragged you away, back towards the party again. “You said this would be a party, but it’s not. This is a black tie event, Josh,” you lamented, trying not to complain but unable to hold it back. “There’s a big difference.”

Josh didn’t look at you. “I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I know that I didn’t give you a whole lot of details and that it was last minute, but Y/N—” He finally turned on his heel and came face to face with you, eyes softening at your stumble to stop before you collided. “I really do appreciate you coming here with me.”

Were you a little less focused on his features up close, you might have noticed the small amount of emphasis on the last two words that Josh slipped in. But you didn’t. His apology did make you smile a bit, though. “I know,” you sighed, flipping your hair out of your face. “What would you do without me?”

“Waste away in sorrow and boredom,” he assured you, patting you on the arm as you looped it through his. “And, uh, just so you know, you don’t have to kiss everyone you end up under the mistletoe with,” he said quietly, so as not to draw attention amongst the murmurs of conversation.

You shrugged against him. “I know. But it was fun. And I was the one who initiated that one,” you laughed. “It would have been in bad taste to reject him after I told him to.”

Josh didn’t laugh with you. Instead, he steered you around the room for a leisurely stroll - a tour of the paintings that hung for the event.

But, once again, your companionship wasn’t fated to last, and you’d only made half a loop around the perimeter, pointing out funny details in the art fastened to the wall all the while, when a woman locked her eyes on you both and started making a beeline towards you.

“Incoming,” you sighed, ready to let go of Josh’s arm.

But he didn’t let it go; he tightened his hold, instead. “That’s just one of the studio execs. She’s probably just going to go over a couple of details for next week.”

Josh was wrong, though, and the studio exec grimaced at you apologetically before admitting that Josh had missed a piece of paperwork and needed to come cross his t’s and dot his i’s.

“It’s fine,” you said, waving her silent apology off. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw Jake and Lori mingling over there – I’ll just go join them.” Without much of a second thought about it, the exec stepped away and you again attempted to pull away from Josh, but he caught your arm.

“Wait.”

You glanced back at him, tilting your head in concern when you saw his jumpy, restless mannerisms. “Are you okay?”

He licked his lips and then let them pop open in a way that had you absolutely entranced. “Can you just…stay here? This won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just gonna go say hi to Jake and Mrs. Wagner, Josh. I’m not rushing out to my pumpkin now that it’s midnight or anything,” you teased.

“Please, Y/N?” Two minutes, and then I’ll be all yours, I promise. Just stay here for me,” he implored, looking serious as all was.

He wasn’t able to wait for an answer, not with the exec looking back and calling his name when she realized he wasn’t following. His gaze lingered, but he left with her, and you were stuck wondering what his sudden weird behavior was all about.

In the end, you did wait for two minutes. Five, actually, and you knew because you timed it. But it was weird being a loner lingering around some precious art with no one to laugh at it with, so eventually you disregarded Josh’s strange demeanor and sidled up next to Jake and Lori, who were just finishing up laughing about one thing or another.

“Hey guys, mind if I join your ranks?” you asked softly, knowing that the answer would be yes.

Lori’s eyes lit up, and she donned a slightly mischievous smile on her normally sweet-as-pie face that was more fitting of her son than it was on her. “Only,” she said dramatically, a sure sign that Big Dan was out there somewhere completely sober so that his drunk wife would have a safe ride home, “if you give Jakey a little kiss.”

The coincidence of it all. Out of everyone in the band, you’d gotten propositioned (indirectly) by each member except the one you wanted to. “Oh, is that right?” you teased, crooking a brow up at Jake, who rolled his eyes with a small smirk. “Is this a new band initiation thing?”

“No. Lori has been trying to get me to kiss every single person in this room because of the damn mistletoe,” he teased, smiling softly at Lori’s resounding giggle. It was nice to see her having fun.

You looked up, and sure enough, there was a small sprig hanging from a strand on the chandelier. “Well, I’ve managed to get caught under one with both of your little brothers,” you sighed, playing into Lori’s game. “Want to cross off another box on my BINGO sheet?”

“Do it, do it, do it,” Lori chanted gleefully, and Jake sighed overdramatically.

He held out his hand to you, amusement shining in his eyes. He reminded you so much of Josh in these moments, and it sent a rush of affection through you. “Well, if it has to be someone, I suppose you’re probably my best option.”

“Oh gee,” you snarked facetiously, “you really know how to flatter a girl.”

But you went anyway, meeting him in a kiss that was half-smile as Lori did a small happy dance, clapping softly and grinning so wide her eyes scrunched up and disappeared. “Christmas joy!” she cheered, and you broke away giggling.

It really was more reminiscent of the joy you felt when you were around the boys, and you were a little bummed that Josh hadn’t really been around most of the evening, but you had enough good company otherwise that you were beginning not to care.

But not caring was apprently not in the cards for you, since every time you began to settle into a group, Josh would come around and alienate you again. And that's exactly what happened when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“I thought I asked you to wait over there,” Josh whispered into your ear so that the others couldn’t hear him. His fingers were digging slightly into your skin, and it made your stomach flip-flop.

You shrugged. “Got bored.”

He didn’t answer you; instead, he sidled up and wrapped an arm around your waist, something he always did but, in a way that felt different this time. Almost…possessive if you didn’t know any better. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had quite the night, so I’m gonna get the car,” he said with a smile towards his brother and Lori. “Wasn’t expecting so much work this evening. You good to round the other two up?” That was directed purely at Jake.

He’d been the DD for the evening, and since they all had their stuff at Josh’s house, had decided to have an old-fashioned sleepover, putting more finishing touches on the album they were planning on going to the studio for the next week.

He got the confirmation he was looking for and you barely had time to say goodbye before Josh physically pulled you away from them, now grasping your hand as if you’d try to run. “You know, between the freezing cold and the warm party,” you said in confusion, trying to tug your coat on, “I’d much rather be in there. Do you need me to get the car with you?”

It came off slightly pissy, you were aware. But Josh's behavior was confusing and you were sobering up so nothing was as lighthearted anymore. You were out in the parking lot already, though, where you noticed that it had started snowing at some point during the party, and there was a light dusting covering all the cars now. Josh made it to his car without saying anything, but as soon as you hit him lightly to get him to stop ignoring you, he turned around as the car beeped unlocked.

Josh had never been angry with you. You’d gotten in teasing little spats and had run annoyed with each other, but never bona fide angry. And that’s what Josh looked at the moment.

“I had to get out of there,” he said, an edge in his voice. “Sorry, let me rephrase: I had to get you out of there.”

His bitterness wasn’t lost on you, and standing out in the cold with Josh angry at you wasn't how you’d envisioned the night ending. “Why? What was I doing? And why are you angry all of the sudden?”

He looked at you, disbelief written out comically plain on his face. “All of the sudden?” he said patronizingly, stepping closer to you. “Y/N, I’ve been…god, you don’t even see it, do you?”

“See what?” His vagueness was wearing on you, and you began to shiver.

“Ever since you decided you wanted to kiss all my fucking brothers right in front of me when I invited you,” he emphasized, growing agitated which, at the proximity you were standing together, made your heart rate pick up a little. “You don’t think that I might be a little bit angry?”

You blinked at him owlishly, eyes wide as you finally realized what he was saying. “You’re…jealous?”

He closed his eyes and ruffled a hand through his hair, muttering, “Hopeless,” before grabbing your waist abruptly and pressing you to his snowy car door. “So incredibly jealous. But I don’t want to have to be jealous anymore, Y/N, and I-- just...stop me if you don't want this, okay?”

It was all he got out before he slammed his lips to yours. He didn’t give you time to think, only react as he pushed forward on all accounts and began to overwhelm your senses.

It was out of character for Josh, this reckless carelessness. In all your daydreams, the first time he kissed you was like him: sweet, gentle, soft, and joyful. Not this erratic culmination of a frustrating night, sloppy and cold and rigid.

But you weren’t pushing him away. The 'erratic culmination of a frustrating night' applied to the both of you and, well, this was certainly a sign that he saw you as more than a friend. And either way - soft and sweet or rough and passionate - you weren’t complaining about the kiss, not when it came to Josh. You were sure it showed in how enthusiastically you kissed him back, pressing your hand to the back of his neck and clutching his coat with your other one, or hopes so, at least.

To finally get what you wanted after waiting for so long – it was quickly becoming a drug that you didn’t want to stop, but Josh eventually pulled away after a minute.

“Get in the car,” he murmured softly, the demand clear but with room for you to say no.

There was absolutely no hesitation in your actions, though, as you threw the door open and climbed in, immediately crowded against the seat by Josh, who’d slammed the door as soon as his feet cleared it. The way he grasped your thighs and manhandled them apart so that he could slot himself between them had your legs trembling, and you were certain that he felt it.

The action also, however, made your dress ruch up around your hips, exposing your panties and making you intimately aware of the dull pulse that had started when Josh pushed you against the car grow into a full flutter of tightening muscles between your legs.

“Look at you now,” he whispered, hands smoothing up your thighs until his thumbs pressed into the crease where your underwear stopped. “All spread out for…who, Y/N?”

The question caught you off-guard and made you reel back, immediately pushing back at his attempt to get you to submit. “Who the fuck else would I be spread out for?” you snarked breathily, watching in interest as his eyes, cast in shadows from the outside street lamps trying to break through the layer of snow covering you. “The ghost of Christmas past?”

If someone asked you to relay the events that happened next, you’d be unable to recall just how Josh got your panties off without knocking either of you to the floor or losing the moment. But he was just as intense now, staring intently at the burgeoning wetness that he dipped his thumb into before staring you down and bringing the digit to his lips.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I was understanding tonight,” he said quietly, the low noise in the car just adding to the atmosphere. “When you kissed Danny, it was no big deal. A funny little coincidence, I thought.”

“I didn’t go around meaning to kiss your brothers,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like Josh was around to know that, anyways. He just happened to show up at the wrong times.

He didn’t agree, apparently, and his hand shot up to your throat with a gentle pressure that was only there to warn you. From there, those same fingers slid up to grip your chin. “I wasn’t finished,” he said shortly, molten eyes burning into yours. You were frozen - pitifully turned on at his display of desire and the discrepancy from his usual demeanor (not that you didn’t want to jump his bones either way). “I was a little pissed when you decided to suggest it to Sam; the poor boy was just trying to enjoy the music,” he tsked, and your face burned even though you knew he wasn’t really insinuating anything humiliating.

But it was enough to loosen your lips again. “Sam kissed me back,” you pointed out, expression melting into wanton desire as he leaned down to interrupt you with another kiss.

“I said not another word,” he said into your ear afterwards, right before he straightened up. His hand tore at his belt buckle and snapped it through the loops in a way that had you much wetter than you already had been. “See, even Sam wasn’t such a big deal, because it was mistletoe. But then?” he scoffed, pulling back to rip his fitted dress pants off. Following it up with a blunt drag of his fingers across your clit so that you arched your back and squirmed underneath him, his voice faltered in arousal. “Then you went and kissed my twin brother right in front of me when I asked you so nicely to stay where you fucking were for once. And that–” he chuckled, looking for consent that you gave immediately, if a little breathily, “–that was just the cherry on top.”

His middle finger slid into you suddenly, slender and tough and skilled. You whined at the sudden intrusion, gripping the bottom of the seat as Josh used his limited space to pump his hand into you. It was quite evident how much your little game had excited you– the wet noises that sounded out when Josh added another one gave you away and seemed louder in the enclosed space of the car.

“Is this what you wanted?” Josh asked, his entire body tense as his forearms flexed with the ‘come hither’ motion he’d begun in fervor. “Kissing my brothers– do you know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but all that escaped was a half cut-off moan, shaking with the rhythm that Josh was making. Each thrust pushed you higher and higher, and you were surprised that the heat wasn’t melting the snow right off his windows.

Josh’s thumb met your clit, and the sensations were enough to make you whine. Against his cloth seats, your dress rode further and further up, until you used one hand to push it down again. It was getting in the way, obscuring your view of where Josh was taking his pleasure in yours, his eyes hooded and watching you – always watching you – while his other hand had brought his cock out to play. Or…for him to play with.

“What, you wanna be shy now?” he drawled, taking his fingers out and fisting his cock, warming it up with your slick before nudging himself between your lips and against your entrance. “Take your tits out, sweet girl. I wanna see them. I am the one you wanna show them to, right?”

“Yes, Josh,” you gasped, bucking your hips to try and slip him inside. It perhaps wasn’t the first time you’d imagined – it was better. It was raw (whoops) and validating in a way you didn’t know you needed after so long of just being the friend. “I want you,” you assured, peeling the stretchier material up until your breasts spilled out, having been tightly bound to you for the entire evening by the dress. It was on the few times you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and it was paying off, just to see Josh’s face drop slack as he drank them in, going so far to turn on an overhead light.

But that caused you to look nervously at the windows. What if someone saw?

As if he could read your mind, Josh ran his hands up your body to cup you and tease your nipples, already pebbled from the cold. “Don’t worry, Y/N, nobody can see through the snow and the tint. I promise.”

The peek of the Josh you knew made your heart clench, and with a pull of his shirt, he attached his lips to yours and guided himself into your body with a groan that echoed in your mouth.

“Oh, god, Josh,” you gasped, face screwing up as he stretched you out. Your toes curled and you clenched your thighs around his hips, fingers digging into his back while you brought him closer to you. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to feel you inside me,” you whispered, and Josh let out a soft moan at that.

“Well, you didn’t have to kiss my brothers to get me to fuck you,” he responded with a distracted grin, once he pulled up enough to brace himself.

You were about to roll your eyes and object when he finally rolled his hips forward, nudging his cock even deeper into you before pulling out and sheathing himself once again, beginning to fuck you in a rhythm that was short and powerful to match the minimal space he had.

The way he filled you up was nothing short of euphoric. He lit up the nerves everywhere he touched, and after fantasizing about it all those times, your body seemed to suck Josh in with the intent never to let him go.

“You’re so wet, Y/N, damn,” Josh panted, eyes hooded and glancing down to where the wet noises of each thrust were coming from. “Kissing Jake didn’t get you all soaked and ready for my cock, right?”

You knew your hair would look like a rat’s nest from how much you were squirming and thrashing your head back and forth against the seats. “No. I didn’t kiss them like I wanted to kiss you.”

Josh’s response was interrupted by his phone ringing, and speak of the devil, Jake’s contact popped up on his screen, and you suddenly remembered where you were and what you’d been doing before Josh decided to give it to you in his back seat. Josh didn’t care, though, and the phone rang out as he upped his efforts and snapped his hips into you as deeply as he could, snaking his fingers down to play with your clit.

Your back arched at the stimulation, and any comment you had was preceded with a whine. “Josh, we’re supposed to pick up your brothers.”

Josh hauled you up, and you repositioned with him, letting him plant his feet on the ground as you straddled him with your breasts in his face. If anything, the change made him care even less about what he was supposed to be doing.

“I don’t care,” he chuckled breathlessly, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he grunted and shoved his hips up into you.

You were fast approaching your high, quicker than usual, and Josh was doing everything he could to get you there, it seemed: angling his hips, mouthing over your tits, and still slipping those damn fingers around your clit and where he was still moving inside of you. “They might come looking for us,” you said, your hips twitching and bearing down to help get him to where you wanted.

“Let them,” Josh grunted again. “You made me watch you kiss them, they can watch me fuck you. Fair trade.”

You would have laughed if you weren’t working your hips like a bitch in heat, desperately climbing a ladder upward, but not fast enough. You knew Josh was joking, but he seemed hell-bent on keeping up the narrative just for shits and giggles, and you wondered if it was part of his punishment when his fingers stopped dancing around your bundle of nerves.

You saw him wipe his hand on the seat, and that distracted you enough that when he leaned forward, you were pitched with him, which forced you to wrap yourself around him even more as he desperately grasped the seat in front of him and used it to anchor himself as his rhythm faltered and all he could do was recklessly push his hips into you, deep and hard and without much finesse anymore.

Your noises grew in frequency and volume; you were right there, all it would take would be a couple more thrusts at this exact angle and— and—-

“I’m cumming!” you sobbed into Josh’s neck, jolting with each powerful thrust into you.

Feeling you cum around him, Josh groaned and pitched up once more, and then warmth exploded inside you. He hugged you to him as he leaned back against the seats to catch his breath, and you whimpered as he shifted in you.

“Was that better than kissing my brothers?” he asked jokingly, stroking your hair with one hand while the other drew lines up your bare back.

Now that you were cooling down, you felt the consequence of not turning the heat on, and the sweat on your body quickly made you shiver, so Josh grabbed his coat and covered you while you nodded. “Josh,” you deadpanned, “If you have to ask that question, you need to gain a little more confidence in your abilities.”

He snorted as his phone went off again. “Ah, shit. They really are going to come looking for us soon if we don’t…” He trailed off, obviously not wanting to leave the warmth of your body, or give off the impression that he wasn’t going to participate in any aftercare at all, but you hadn’t exactly picked the perfect time and place for that, so you understood.

“It’s fine. Just…bring me back to yours and make me hot chocolate, and we’ll call it even.”

Josh looked scandalized, and he vigorously shook his head in dissent. “Uh-uh. You’re getting more than hot chocolate– who have you been fucking that your standards are so low?” You smiled, but as soon as you opened your mouth, Josh’s face scrunched up and he kissed you to interrupt. “Actually, don’t answer that. That’s gonna change when we get back to my house,” he promised, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “I’ll show you as many times as you want,” he grinned, finally dislodging himself as he waited for you to get off his lap.

You colored as you found and pulled up your panties as quickly as you could, not wanting to drip in Josh’s car. “I…might just take you up on that,” you said quietly, watching for Josh’s reaction.

His features softened and he smiled, which was a little off-putting since he was tucking his dick away simultaneously, then wiped his hand again on his nice, cloth seats. He must have seen your expression, because he cocked his head. “What?” he queried, moving to get out of the backseat.

“You just…wiped my cum on your seats,” you laughed. “Your brothers are going to have to sit back here, and they might–”

Josh tugged you out of the seat and pressed you up against the side of the car for the second time that night. “What? Feel you? Smell you? I bet their mouths would water,” he murmured lasciviously. “But I don’t care.”

You blushed but chuckled lightly. “You know, for someone who made such a big deal about me kissing his brothers, you’re sure making a 180 here with all the 'not caring'.”

“You wanna know why I don’t care, then?” he asked, lips by your ear as he fished for his keys.

“Enlighten me.”

“Because those are my seats, and I made you cum in my car. If that’s where I have available to clean your sweet slick off my fingers every fucking time I touch you from now on, so be it—“ and that was a promise if you’d ever heard one, one that had you squirming and refocusing on the desire you held for Josh, tucked away and safe in your body, “—and my brothers will know that there’ll be no more of this mistletoe shit.”

You ran your tongue across the roof of your mouth, ducking under Josh’s arm to escape the newly-grown tension and into the front passenger seat. You wouldn’t be held liable for anything that transpired when he was talking like that and making vows that sounded a lot like a commitment— at the very least, like this would happen again, maybe even several times.

“Watch out, Josh,” you sang playfully, catching his gaze at your ass before you disappeared around the back of the car. You reconvened inside, this time fully dressed and going to pick up his brothers for real this time. “Your jealousy is showing.”

~~~

Taglist:

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maccreadysbaby · 22 days

Text

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: gore, contemplated su*cide, more gore

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

so the big chapter is here… bentleys plan goes about as good as you’d expect

part forty-two

❝ REALITY CHECK ❞

SATURDAY — SEPTEMBER 12 — 8:01 PM

ONE THING BENTLEY HAD NEVER, EVER, EVER IMAGINED, IN HIS WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE, WAS FOR HIM TO ACTUALLY HAVE SUPERPOWERS AND ACTUALLY BE SUITED UP AS ROBIN. (But he was! And he did! And he had no idea what he was doing!)

It only took him about fifteen or twenty minutes to make it to the heat of battle with his water for transport. Most of downtown Gotham was a disaster. Everything was burning — literally, on fire, with flames licking out of piles of rubble that used to be buildings, and especially in the pitch black of night, everything was glowing. Two dozen buildings had to have been flattened, probably more — the destruction was moving and swirling in a circle around a tall, untouched building in central Gotham (the same one Asten tried to jump off of), which had a huge dome of fire on top of it. Bentley assumed that’s where he was. Every sound, the crackling of the fire, the crumbling of buildings, the shouting of metahumans — it all meshed together into one insanely loud, menacing rumble that never seemed to end.

Bentley stood (hovered) off to the side for a few moments, out of the radius of the chaos, kind of terrified. Firstly, Damian’s armor didn’t fit him right, especially on his arms and legs, so a nicely placed blow could probably knock it straight off. And his cape kept getting all in the way and whipping around, and while it looked cool, he wasn’t sure how much he liked it. (The answer was he didn’t. He didn’t like it.)

Secondly, he had no idea where anybody was. He was simply hovering on water a whole lot of feet in the air, high enough to be above the crumbling buildings, and he could hardly see down far enough through the smoke and fire to make out people on the ground. So he had no clue where his family or any metahumans were.

Thirdly… he was about to, like, fight people, for real. The only people he’d ever, quote-on-quote, fought, were Dick and Damian and occasionally Jason and Tim when they were training him in self-defense. Y’know, people without superpowers who weren’t actually trying to kill him.

But… there’s always a first patrol, right? Robin always had a first patrol. He just guessed this would be his. (He couldn’t back out now.)

As he drew ever-closer to the epicenter of the destruction (slower than Christmas, because he was pretty horrified), he turned his earpiece on so he could hear what everybody was saying. His line of sight was slowly getting clearer, so he was starting to see all the multicolored metahumans moving around on the ground through the smoke (and in the sky, in a few cases), with flashes of light and so many different… colors, and sounds, and things. He could see what he was pretty sure was Mandy Todryk flying through the air with her massive raven wings, and he knew exactly where The Void was due to the blinding flashes of purple.

“Robin,” Bruce’s Batman voice came through his earpiece, gruff and serious and not happy sounding in the slightest. The tone was just sour and flat enough that Bentley knew he meant him and not the real Robin. “You are not permitted to be on the field.”

Bentley looked around from his spot in the sky, levitating on water, until he spotted the big black blob that was Bruce on the ground, fighting against a metahuman with blue hair.

“Sorry, B! Please don’t be mad!” He replied shortly, his eyes darting every which way. Bentley wasn’t sure how good he’d do in an actual fight against any of these metahumans, but he was pretty sure he could help his family when they needed it. So that’s what he would focus on — helping them. When they needed it. “I just want to help!”

“You need to return to the cave immediately!”

Bentley cringed. “I’m sorry!” And then he clicked the earpiece back off.

Bentley didn’t have time for a lecture just then — he was too busy trying to figure out who the little figure was flying in repetitive circles around the giant glowing bubble of fire on the center building. It was a small person, with no wings or anything, and it only took another second for him to realize that… he was pretty sure it was… Nico, trying to get to Asten.

“I found him, Charlie!”

Bentley shouted in terror when someone grabbed him by the arms and violently ripped his feet out of the water that’d been holding him up. The beating of loud wings filled his ears — Mandy Todryk’s wings.

She laughed maniacally, and Bentley nearly threw up on queue as he watched all of the destruction move under his feet. The feet in question were dangling uselessly hundreds of yards in the air, and the far-off ground was moving at least sixty or seventy miles per hour below him. “Let go of me!”

“You’re choice!” Mandy chided. She let go of Bentley and, before he could react any more than another shout of horror, dove down and grabbed him by his feet instead, so he was dangling upside down. His cape whipped around and covered his face, making it impossible to see. (Seriously, how did they wear those things?)

Bentley only narrowly missed slamming his head into the top of a building (that Mandy had to have dipped toward on purpose.) He couldn’t seem to think, couldn’t seem to breathe — the water he’d been standing on was following them, but he could only see half of the time and it wasn’t fast enough to catch up.

“Let’s test if little bluebirds can fly!” Mandy chorused, waving Bentley back and forth as she flew in a way that made him so very nauseous.

“It’s a Robin, loser!” Bentley looked up just enough to see a blob fly into his vision from the other direction, going at least the same speed as them. It and Mandy collided in the middle, and the little figure latched onto Mandy’s wings and jerked them with all of their might, twisting her entire body and sending her veering off-course like a broken plane. Bentley slid from her grip and was suddenly freefalling.

And then he was very suddenly not, but someone was holding onto his torso very, very tight. (Which also made him want to hurl.)

“Jesus, your suit doesn’t even have blue on it,”

Bentley was only halfway breathing, watching the ground move what seemed to be miles beneath them, but much slower. “Nico?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,”

They hovered around in the sky for a few moments before Nico found a suitable, not-falling-apart or burning rooftop to set Bentley down on. It was on the outskirts of the circle of destruction where Asten’s power hadn’t reached yet.

He sat Bentley down (mostly) on his feet, and the redhead immediately sat down on the tar rooftop, relieved to be on something solid again. He was sucking in air like he’d never breathed in his life. “I’ve only been here five minutes and I already want to hurl.”

Nico landed next to him, panting like he’d been running a marathon. His t-shirt and sweatpants were both soaked through with sweat, and his hair was a floppy wet mess, probably from flying so close to the fire. He held up three fingers. “Three times already.”

Bentley furrowed his brow, pushing himself off the rooftop and peering off the building at the destruction around them. “You’ve thrown up three times?”

“These powers are trying to kill me, I think,” Nico stated, waving Bentley off. “It’s fine. It happens every time I use them.”

“You can go to the cave if you need to,” Bentley replied, watching a few metahumans move around on the ground, a couple losing a fight pretty badly to who Bentley was pretty sure was Red Hood. “Have you been able to get to Asten?”

“Nope,” Nico started, drifting up by his side and peering off the edge of the building. “The dome thing he has going on is way too hot to get close to. Air only makes it hotter. But you know what definitely doesn’t make fire hotter?”

Bentley looked over at Nico, who had a dorky look on his face. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“Maybe you could get us in there so we can talk to him,”

Bentley looked over at the dome of flame that was spitting and spinning like some kind of lava. “I could try. It looks pretty hot, though.”

“It is insanely hot, yes,” Nico agreed. “But getting through it is pretty much our only way to him.”

Bentley nodded, peering over the edge of the rooftop toward the dome. He could feel the water sloshing and moving in the pipes below them, and not a second later, there was a small pop, and water began to seep from the cracks and crevices in the tar roofing and slither over toward his feet.

“That’ll never look normal,” Nico muttered, and Bentley shook his head as the water wrapped around his feet and began to lift him up.

Get to the dome. Put water on the dome. Calm Asten down. A foolproof plan. (Mediocre at best, really.)

“Ready?”

With a heavy sigh, Nico shook his hands out by his sides and began to levitate. “As ever.”

Bentley looked at the ground below to find his family. It didn’t take long — Dick was the first he found, fighting hand-to-hand with a metahuman who kept throwing bolts of electricity at him. (It wasn’t the metal controlling guy, which was good.) Jason was still fighting a group of metahumans that were losing very badly. (No vines.) The Secret Keeper was standing on top of a turned-over car, doing nothing but watching and tugging on Davis and Titus’s collars every now and then. (Which meant she wasn’t with Tim or Bruce.) Damian was sword fighting a girl that had a sword made of green light coming out of her hand?

With an exhale, Bentley let the water carry him off the edge of the building and over the deafening chaos and destruction again. Buildings that hadn’t been touched yet were starting to fall now, the circle of terror was getting bigger. Bentley knelt down on the little surfboard-like oval of liquid and tried to focus really hard on the dome and not the war going on beneath him that was all his fault. All his fault. All his fault.

As he and Nico drew nearer to the dome of fire, the temperature raised exponentially, and a sound like a blowtorch grew ever-louder. It went from bearable to magma in a split second, and he still had to be at least half a soccer field away.

Suddenly, a strange, shrill thunder-like noise sent them both whirling in the complete opposite direction of their objective. Bentley’s eyes darted around wildly, combing through the fire and rubble and fighting until he spotted a swirling purple portal high in the sky above them, in the center of the destruction with no buildings around it at all.

Not three seconds later, Damian fell out of it.

There weren’t any buildings for him to grapple to. At the bottom of the drop waited nothing but concrete and rubble and ash.

She wasn’t lying.

Bentley didn’t even hear his own shrill “No!” Before his instincts took over. And his first instinct was to absolutely throttle himself in that direction as fast as his water would let him move.

By that direction, he meant toward the ground. Damian was far away, falling really fast, and the only way Bentley would be able to reach him was if he somehow went even faster. But closer to the ground meant closer to all the metahumans. And that meant…

That something really tight grabbed Bentley’s ankle before he could make it to Damian’s landing spot, ripping him off of the water with enough force to make his ankle pop and spike with pain. He only felt air for a split second before he hit the concrete and rubble, back-first, with a dull thud and an embarrassing noise.

With a groan at the sudden dull pain that was radiating through every bone of his body (had he really been that high?) he looked up (why was he seeing two of everything?) just enough to catch a glimpse of some gnarly looking, deep green vines wrapped around his ankle.

He didn’t even get to turn over before they pulled on him again. They drug him through the rubble and debris without remorse, scraping up his exposed skin and tugging at his Robin suit until the vines decided to pull him off the ground and dangle him in the air, upside down. (Again.)

He could see Damian falling. He could see buildings cracking. He could see a random, bright red fire hydrant, jutting out of the ground.

With as much power as he could muster (even with his whole body being in a state of pain, and being upside down, again.) he willed the water up and out with such force that the entire fire hydrant was ripped from the concrete and shot into the air with a dull thunk.

Hundreds of gallons of water came spewing out, straight up into the night sky, and Bentley used them to make a massive pyramid-shaped cone of water what he was pretty sure was beneath Damian.

But he didn’t have time to see if it worked. Instead, the vines around his ankle moved and crawled up his whole body in a split second, curling around him like ropes and tying his legs and arms down so they couldn’t move. The vines continued to move, to wrap around his face, his eyes, his mouth, like a blindfold and gag. He tried to make a sound, but all that came out with a muffled mmm.

“I’ve got the little runt, Charlie. He ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Said a guy’s voice, only a little ways away from Bentley. He could feel himself moving, but he couldn’t tell what direction. He couldn’t shout, couldn’t see, and couldn’t hear anything but roaring destruction.

He felt Damian moving in the water. But he couldn’t see it, which meant he didn’t know what it looked like, which meant he couldn’t imagine it doing something else, which meant his powers were pretty much useless.

Amidst all the chaos, he heard something akin to a shnnk.

Three seconds later, there was a shout of pain, and the vines loosened around Bentley, sending him crashing onto the concrete again. Head first, of course, and so hard that for a minute, he couldn’t see anything but stars or hear anything but a skull-piercing ring.

A moment (or a few? He couldn’t tell.) later, someone pulled him until he was sitting up. They were talking, but he couldn’t hear good, and he was pretty sure it was Damian, but it looked more like two Damians.

Finally, as his vision and hearing started to come back fully, he forced himself onto his feet with a groan. His ankle (the same ankle he’d hurt by jumping out the window last year, by the way.) gave out halfway and he fell forward into Damian, who was literally Robin, (which wasn’t embarrassing at all.)

(Yes, it was.)

(Being a superhero was so freaking hard.)

Thankfully, Damian didn’t do anything like shove him or scoff at him. Instead, he helped him stand, and as Bentley’s cognitive abilities returned, he realized that Damian was squinting at him through his domino lenses. “It is absolutely idiotic for you to be here.”

A beat passed. Bentley’s eyes flicked down to the bloody katana in Damian’s hand.

“I suppose I should not have expected anything less,” Damian muttered, and he brought his empty hand up and touched Bentley’s forehead, which twinged with a sharp pain. “Your head is bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” Bentley stated, looking back at the bloody sword, and Damian did, too. Bentley then scoured the nearby rubble for bodies, but the burning debris came up empty. There were no vines and no metahumans.

“I only cut some of his fingers off. Then The Void took him away,”

“Oh,” Bentley muttered, blinking twice. “…Thanks.”

“You kept me from hitting the ground. I believe we are even,” Damian replied. “You-“

Before he could speak again, a purple portal opened right over Damian’s head, and The Void fell out of it right on top of him, pinning him to the rubble below. Her purple hair was cut weirdly, shorter on one side like Damian had gotten it with his katana. “Got you, you little rat!”

In one quick movement that Bentley could barely comprehend, she ripped a batarang from Damian’s belt and lifted it over her head.

“No!”

In another quick movement that Bentley could hardly comprehend, a massive column of water flew over like a battering ram, whamming into The Void and literally sending her flying at least a few yards away from them. She kept the batarang dutifully clasped in her right hand until she stopped tumbling and settled in the debris.

“You’re a little nightmare!” She screeched. A portal appeared beneath her, and she fell into it and disappeared.

Bentley didn’t even have time to make it to Damian before a portal appeared right in his face, an arm came out, and something pinched Bentley’s chest. The portal disappeared.

It took him a solid five seconds to look down and realize what had happened.

She’d stabbed him instead.

One half of the shiny batarang was protruding from the center of his abdomen, and his red suit was getting suspiciously redder. It didn’t even hurt that bad. Why didn’t it hurt that bad? It only felt like when Damian kicked him during a spar, but he could clearly see that half of the batarang was inside of him. He was stabbed. He’d been stabbed.

(Superheroing sucked!)

“Batman, Robin is compromised. I repeat, Robin is compromised,” He could’ve sworn that was Damain talking, but he couldn’t exactly hear right. His blood was pumping too loud.

He lifted a shaky hand and grabbed the batarang, jerking it out with a nearly inaudible whine. “It's okay. I’m okay.”

Bentley vaguely heard Damian giving Bruce a location, but he couldn’t hear very well over his own blood. Did blood have water in it? Bentley looked down at his own abdomen and focused really hard on the blood that was leaking out. Blood had water in it, didn’t it?

The bloodstain started getting smaller. Going away. Going… back in?

It was a strange sensation -- although, so was being stabbed -- that wasn’t exactly painful but definitely wasn’t comfortable. Bentley’s heart was pounding in his ears and he could hardly believe what was happening, even though it was literally happening.

“It… it's okay. I can keep myself from bleeding,”

Damian looked at him like he was stupid. “You have been stabbed in an area that houses many vital organs.”

In the distance, Bentley saw Batman coming.

If he went back to the cave now, they could still die.

What had he been doing? Trying to put out the dome of fire? To get in it, if possible? To stop this? To save his family?

He had to do this.

Water came up and around Bentley’s feet and picked him up, bloody batarang still in his hand.

“Don’t you dare,” Damian threatened, but Bentley was already off the ground and floating toward the dome.

…Sort of. His floating wasn’t all it used to be since he was having to focus so hard to keep his blood in his body. It was taking double the focus it usually took to keep himself in the air, and the punched feeling was starting to turn into searing pain, which made the focusing even worse.

Damian yelled. Bentley ignored it.

“You’re psychotic!”

Bentley turned until his eyes met Nico’s wide blue ones. He was flying down from the building with the dome, face panicked, gaze locked on Bentley’s abdomen. “You were stabbed!”

“I’ll be fine,” The redhead replied, floating past Nico at a glacial pace. “I just need to get to the dome.”

“I don’t think you’re comprehending the severity of this situation correctly. You were stabbed,”

“I know,”

“Stabbed,”

“I know!” Bentley replied, wincing at the pain caused by the effort. “I’ve been shot. That was worse.”

“You’re losing your mind!”

Bentley said nothing as he grew close to the dome of fire, the heat washing over him and making him feel ten times closer to dying. He held the batarang out just a little farther when he got as close as he dared. He had to be here to save them.

“You need to- wha… what are you doing? Oh, God, don’t tell me you’re…”

Bentley kept the batarang out there until it started to turn red hot (which took an alarmingly short amount of time, during which he was very thankful for the fireproof gloves.) and as soon as it was ready, he tore the Robin suit a little more at the hole and pressed the metal against his skin with no hesitation.

He wasn’t sure who screamed first — him or Nico.

Everything was a blur of white-hot agony, and for a second, he couldn’t see, the next second, someone was holding him under the armpits. The water wasn’t under him anymore. “Stop, no, no, I forbid you from passing out while we’re in the air. Absolutely forbid.”

A second (hour?) later, he was laid down on a rooftop.

“Bentley, dude, buddy, stay awake. How do I work your earpiece? How can I talk to them without leaving you here?”

Bentley’s senses vaguely started to come back to him for a second time. “I’m okay.”

“Shut up,”

“I’m-“

“Shut up! Just tell me how to talk to your dad!” Nico ordered. His face was hovering above Bentley, along with a smoky, starry sky, but there were about three Nicos at the moment.

“Am I bleeding?”

Nico looked down at Bentley’s stomach. “I-I… guess not, but-“

Bentley pushed himself upright.

And it was a horrendous idea. A wave of pain so absolutely devastating seared through his abdomen like he had gasoline for blood. It reverberated through every bone in his body, and the world went dark. He didn’t hear himself scream.

—

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he came to, but when he did, he was still on that rooftop, and Nico was crying next to him.

He blinked and let out a groggy groan.

“Bentley? God, dude, stop passing out! You’ve done it, like, five times!”

Bentley blinked some more. Five times? He’d woken up and passed out five different times and he couldn’t even remember it?

Everything was starting to feel like a mixture of pain, pain, and more pain. His whole body was sore from being thrown around, his head was throbbing, his stab wound was still blazing with a fiery agony, and he was really tired.

Nico sniffled. Bentley was pretty sure his head was on Nico’s lap, because his face was upside down and right over Bentley’s own. “Jason has been talking to Asten. I think the dome is cooling down a little bit, if you think you can-“

Someone thudded on the rooftop next to them.

“So close, yet so… far, Whittaker. You really thought you could change the future I put in place,”

Bentley pulled himself upright with a grunt of pain, just so he could get a good look at The Secret Keeper. She looked giddy as ever, her bright, excited amber eyes making her twisted stitched smile look even more twisted. She no longer had Davis and Titus with her.

“You’re so… naive. I show you one little lie and you move forward without question. You don’t understand, Bentley, that I control you,” The Secret Keeper held out her hand, and Bentley felt something in his mind change. He started to move, but his brain wasn’t telling him to move, her’s was. “It’s all been games until now. Watch what Bentley picks, it’ll be fun. But now is the time that I get to win.”

Bentley watched Nico’s eyes turn amber, and not a second later, his nose began to bleed. “I have dominion over everything. I can control you. I can control your thoughts. I can control your powers.”

Water started seeping out of the tar roofing of the building they were on without Bentley telling it to. It floated into the air in a stream, like a rope, and began tying itself in a knot. Bentley tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. She couldn’t just… control him like that. There was no way.

“I’m going to kill you… and then I’m going to kill everyone you love. I’m going to watch this city burn,” The water rope twisted and swirled itself into a noose. “And you’re not.”

As hard as Bentley tried to fight, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t control the water. The noose came and went over his head, and then he walked to the ledge of the building even though he was telling his body to stop, even though his agony just got worse with every movement.

This could not be how it ended.

He was facing the building with the dome in the center, overlooking all of the destruction. He could see faint figures moving below. He saw The Void appear behind Damian and kick him in the head, sending him thudding into the rubble. He saw the guy with half-white-half-black hair shove Dick into some debris. He saw Tim and Bruce, back to back, with at least twelve metahumans around them. Duke and Steph and Cass were doing something similar with even more metahumans around them, far off.

The dome of fire flickered, then went away.

“Aw, pity. They were so close,” The Secret Keeper muttered, running a hand through Bentley’s hair from behind in a very creepy manner that he wasn’t allowed to move away from.

Asten and Jason were the only two on the center building’s rooftop, talking, but Bentley couldn’t hear them. Asten fell on his knees and more buildings shook, one in particular right next to them collapsing from the bottom up with plumes of smoke and a deafeningly loud crash.

The Secret Keeper’s breath brushed against Bentley’s face when she whispered: “Listen.”

Time seemed to move slower than normal, and Bentley could suddenly hear Asten and Jason even over the massive distance between them.

“-this out,” Was the tail end of Red Hood’s sentence that Bentley caught. Asten shook his head, his eyes still glowing a bright orange and overflowing with waves after waves of tears.

“I-I can’t control it. I can't make it stop,”

“You can, I know you can,” Jason tried. He stepped forward and, ever so slowly, took off his helmet. “I believe in you.”

Asten’s eyes widened, but only for a second, because he flinched again when another building fell, looking off the roof. “I can’t. I can’t, Jason, I’m killing people.”

“You can,”

Asten’s eyes flicked up to Jason, and in one sharp movement, he jumped off of his knees and ripped one of Red Hood’s pistols out of a hip holster, pressing the barrel against his own blue hair.

“I’m murdering people and I can’t make it stop!” Asten shouted, a few violent sobs wracking his body.

“Your death is not the answer. It’s never been the answer,” Jason shouted, moving closer, one hand out. “You’ve lost so much, but you still have so much to live for.”

“I’m killing people that have so much more to live for than that,” Asten replied, the gun shaking against his temple, tears streaming down his face. “I deserve it.”

“Asten, please, listen to me. I know how bad this world can hurt you, but giving up isn’t the answer. Kicking it's ass is,” Jason explained, stepping closer. “Please, give me the gun.”

Asten didn’t move. He just stood there.

“We’ll help you through this, but please… please don’t give up,” Jason moved his hand closer. “Give me the gun, kid.”

Instead of handing it over, Asten passed out. His eyes rolled back into his head, and the gun clattered on the rooftop. Thankfully, Jason managed to catch Asten before he hit.

“Poor little thing. It’s a real shame he won’t make it,”

Won't make it? The Secret Keeper was a dirty liar. How on earth would Asten not make it? His powers couldn’t kill him, could they?

Bentley watched Jason perform a few procedures that grew more and more frantic. Then he reached up and turned on his comm. “B, this kid isn’t breathing!”

And suddenly, Bentley couldn’t hear them anymore. All of the fire in the city died down, the destructive roar fading to a dull hum now that the source was gone. Everything seemed to still in a very eerie way, even the metahumans on the ground, who all looked around in confusion.

There Bentley was, stood on the edge of a building with a noose of water around his neck, and the Secret Keeper’s hands on his shoulders. Strangely numb, feeling rage and desperation and vengeance that he couldn’t display, not even in a scowl, because his body wasn’t his own. It was her’s.

“Forward,”

Bentley’s foot moved closer to the edge, tauntingly. He closed his eyes and focused hard on the Secret Keeper, but he couldn’t — he couldn’t sense her, or any water, or anything. He was blind.

“Go on,”

He stepped closer.

In the back of his mind, he heard something so softly he could’ve missed it. Something moving. Blood pumping. Bum, bum, bum, over and over, moving through veins. The Secret Keeper’s blood.

“Over the edge,”

Bentley, mustering up every tiny bit of willpower he had left, muttered through clenched teeth: “No.”

The Secret Keeper shoved him anyways.

Bentley wasn’t sure what he expected it to feel like, but he didn’t exactly expect it to feel like his whole head was going to explode. He very suddenly couldn’t breathe, and it was difficult to move his arms to try and tug at the noose. The whole thing spun around with him in it so he was facing the Secret Keeper, who was smiling maniacally.

Bentley was about to die.

Bentley Whittaker was about to die.

With one last push of energy, he channeled everything he had into her. Every little drop of rage he could muster from anywhere in his mind, from the pesky nightmares, to this, to chasing Asten the first night, for tormenting his family — every ounce of raw emotion and power he could force his body to give, he focused it all on her, on the blood in her veins, for one last, final hoorah.

(If he was dying, he wasn’t doing it alone.)

The Secret Keeper doubled over and vomited crimson all over the rooftop. But Bentley kept pushing. He kept going until

it was pouring out of her nose, dripping from her ears, running from her eyes like tears. The world was getting darker. He could feel her heart pounding, pounding, pounding well over double or triple the speed it was supposed to, but he didn’t stop. She hit her knees and started screaming. Nico’s eyes turned blue again, and he fell unconscious behind her.

“You’re going to kill me!”

The screaming got loud and torturous then. Like someone was cutting her up piece by piece, as every once of blood was drained from her body, she screamed and she screamed and eventually… she stopped.

The water went slack, and Bentley started freefalling.

With whatever he had left, he formed a bubble of water beneath him that he could land in.

When he hit, everything was black. He couldn’t think. He was only just remembering how to breathe, and his head was throbbing like nothing he’d ever experienced. The water he landed in went slack around him and left him laying on a pile of wet rubble.

His body was in so much pain at the same time that it was so numb. He could feel everything and nothing, all at once. He felt that his stab wound had reopened, and was now pouring a warm liquid all over him that he didn’t have the willpower to stop. His neck was sore, maybe even bleeding, too. He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t really feel it. He wanted to yell for Bruce but he couldn’t.

“You killed her,”

Bentley peeled his eyes open just enough for a hazy, tilting, doubling picture of a metahuman to come into view. It was the guy with half-white-half-black hair. There were metahumans behind him, looking around strangely, like they didn’t know where they were. Was Charlie really dead? Did that mean the mind control wasn’t working anymore?

The rubble beneath him shifted, and a large, mangled piece of metal began floating out of it.

“You killed Charlie,” The metahuman repeated. The mangled metal made it's way to Bentley, hovering in the air straight above him. “You’ll pay for that.”

Was the Secret Keeper really dead?

The mangled piece of metal was thrusted into Bentley’s chest with force so strong that he felt it hit the rubble on the other side.

It was only then that he realized, this was what she showed him.

Him and Jason, in the lazarus pit, him dressed as Robin. Dead, impaled by a piece of metal debris.

This…

This was the reality where Bentley Whittaker died.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

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eureka-its-zico · 1 year

Text

Winterfall

Synopsis: When you thought of your life, Glenview Psychiatric Hospital was the last place you thought you’d end up. What could be weirder than calling a place like this home? Finding people who remind you that, sometimes, the messiest parts of who we are can be the best parts of us too.

Pairings: Christian Yu x Reader x Jay B x Reader (It’s a love triangle, y’all)

Series: ongoing

Word Count: 5186

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mental health issues, mental disorders, slight violence, sexual themes

A/N: This is a hard one to post. I’ve had this in my WIPs for over seven years. I’ve rewritten it multiple times. Consider if this was a series, I was willing to share. As someone who suffers from BPD II and PTSD, it felt strange to dive into mental health. In a way, I felt like I needed a safe place to get it out. To share. This fic isn’t meant to be sad. It’s meant to be about growth. The journey of mental health can be a messy one, but it doesn’t have to hinder our own growth. Our sadness does not define us. If I ever miss anything in the warnings for chapters, please let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP! This fic is loosely based off of one of my favorite films, Girl, Interrupted. And remember, if you you ever need to talk: Im here.

Shout out to my bestie @deadneverlander for always being the better half in our clownery. I wouldn't be able to do half of this without you.

There was something about the bleakness of winter that seemed to make countless people’s bones ache for the warmth of summer. Their loneliness is somehow made more apparent by rain clouds and negative degrees, turning thoughts into reminiscent scenes of a doomsday film.

You’d always claimed that fall was your favorite season because the vast spectrum of your sadness didn't match the heat of summer. Sure, you loved the possibilities of hot cocoa, warm fires, ridiculous horror, Christmas films, and the first sight of snow. Somewhere along the way, however, came the anxiety of holiday dinners. Where the comfort you’d found in overcast skies turned sinister with repeated looks that reminded you that you were the black sheep; the odd man out with another year of nothing to show.

Fall no longer meant binges on shows and breaks from the endless routine that was work and school. It meant laying in the snow until your body heat forced it to melt underneath you, seeping into the fabric of your clothes to leave your nerves numb and transparent like ice. Your mind silently hoped it would be enough to extinguish the agony that blossomed in your chest.

Jackets were no longer marked for warmth, but strictly to hide your struggle to feel anything past the chasm that’d grown in the past couple of months: to bleed out the parts of you that didn't belong. It wasn't a surprise it's what landed you a one-way ticket to the cozy room inside a psychiatric hospital. Maybe that's just what happens when you're found unresponsive with a belly housing a fifth of rum. The marks on your skin lay like a map to follow on how you got there; only being found like a frantic afterthought.

Glenview Psychiatric Hospital, or GSH that was strategically labeled in bright crimson above the pocket of your prison-inspired sweatshirt, had been home for three months now. It was meant to be a place of healing, among the basic mood stabilizing and therapy sessions everyone held in a day. You felt further away from that concept with every group activity the doctors forced you to take part in. Your social anxiety becoming apparent each time it lands on you to speak, either to close the circle, or to be a part of the ridiculous game activities. The last time you played volleyball your face saw more action with the pleather ball than your arms ever did.

It was currently 12:47 p.m. The clock giving you a false sense of hope that the time wouldn’t just creep by to leave you stranded the last thirteen minutes until you’d earned your freedom. There was, however, the off chance if Dr. Thompson wasn't hearing what he wanted; the hour-long group activity would be extended.

You scanned the other six faces that made up your group: the huddled mess of piled sweaters and huddled blanket of Soomi a fleeting moment of comfort. It only took your eyes adjusting on her figure to know she didn’t have one. Her tiny body composed of thick layers of clothes to portray a false sense of shape. Her anorexia becoming so severe her family had no other option but to put her here, or watch her die. Jason’s endless finger taps on every surface he could touch the only giveaway to his OCD until he removed himself from his chair. Sejun with his alcoholism and Yuna with her acidic imagination that the wind whispered her deepest secrets out into the world.

All this ending with your gaze narrowed on the statuesque figure of Jaebum who comically sat opposite of your current position. The two suicidal inmates that shared in the anxiousness of sadness but little else, and the usual reason why your group never seemed to end on time.

You couldn't say it was a shame to be stuck sitting dead center of someone so attractive; as shallow of an observation as it was there was no denying how ungodly true that statement was. He held a silent attractiveness that resonated in the solitude he kept around himself, and Jaebum was indeed a solitary creature.

He preferred books over people. Usually moving away from anyone who got close to his latest reading perch without ever glancing up from his current book. Jaebum’s favorite place he’d reserved to get lost inside his fiction the seal of the window that looked out the expanse of the institute’s backyard. The entire estate currently covered in the dead burgundy and gold of a forest of oak tree leaves.

It wasn't like you were laying avid amounts of your attention on him or anything. You didn't pay attention to how broad his shoulders looked in his old man sweaters that you could've bet money smells like mothballs. How his features seemed sharpened to match the fierceness that lived inside his eyes. The only thing that exposed his softness was the speck of a mole that dusted itself on his left eyelid.

Jaebum just held a presence that demanded to be noticed. Whether he himself liked it or not.

“Jaebum: do you have anything you’d like to add to the session?”

Dr. Thompson’s question made the both of you jolt in your seats. Youwere too busy staring down at your nails while you plucked away at the cuticles. Jaebum's head turned, unbeknownst to you, from looking at you to the good doctor. It was enough to make your cheeks flush hot.

His crossed arms gave a soft shrug, and you hated how your eyes stayed captivated by the movement. You were willing to blame it on the charcoal-worn cable knit sweater he favored. It really did smell like moth balls and age making you willing to bet it wasn't his to begin with.

“We talked about this guys. Shrugging is not an adequate substitute for an answer.”

His tone showing his frustration more than anger at his need to repeatedly inform the group. Dr. Thompson looked at each of you individually until he stopped on Jaebum, who didn’t seem the least bit moved.

“I have nothing to say.”

A sigh escaped from Dr. Thompson’s lips as his head shook softly. His eyes averted down to the tin clipboard momentarily before they resumed their previous position.

“And what is it exactly you would like me to add, huh?” You felt your body tense against the chair. Your hands grasping at its edges like it would be the only thing to keep you stable against the oncoming rage that was Jaebum’s agitation. “We do these pointless sessions over and over: again and again. For what? Do you think it “saves” anyone?”

Your eyes diverted from the safety of your knees; counting every frayed piece of cloth on your jeans that hung loose from torn holes. No part of you needed to acknowledge that he was standing. The room did that well enough with the tension his power caused. The room itself swelling with anxiety that made fidgety Sera begin to rock violently against the back of her chair. Her head shaking hair into her face, like a curtain to hide what she feared was coming her way like the abusive hands of her father.

The orderlies were already beginning to circle his chair, but Dr. Thompson held up a hand of warding. He reminded you too much of an irresponsible ring handler at a circus. Unwilling to recognize his own tiger was about to maim him.

“No, no that’s fair enough. I see you have an issue with the way we try and help our patients.”

“Help?!” Jaebum snarled. “Is that what you call it? Like you helped Simon remember all the things he wanted to forget! Is that what you call endless therapies until he killed himself! You consider being helpful with the way you handled Ian?”

Dr. Thompson regarded Jaebum quietly, but his eyes were focused and searching the young man’s face. You watched in helpless awe as one stood like a calm in a blazing storm, while the other raged so furiously you thought the walls would come down. No longer was his voice a strong current, but now thunderous words that hurled like lightning bolts were being directed at the man before him.

Jaebum was right. Sometimes, the doctors picked and picked a part at you until you were left bare and raw. And if their words didn’t do it their physical methods picked up where they lacked. His anger was justified, because deep down so were you. But you didn’t have the towering strength like he did to stand up to anyone. Your fear of the seclusion rooms kept you prisoner: locked in your chair as a simple flick of Dr. Thompson’s hand sent the orderlies rushing to Jaebum’s side.

“I think that’s enough for today’s session.”

In the back of your mind you knew that Jaebum was right. In part. Who were counselors and psychologists to tell the broken mirrors of people how to put their pieces back together? Only to end up with more blood on their hands from struggling to put sharp pieces in place. They studied people like you, Jaebum...people like Ian who were features in their college books. They themselves barely ever one to experience it themselves.

Healing, even if unconventional, was still healing in the end. There was no right or wrong way to get there, but here, with people like Dr. Thompson, their textbook solutions were the only solutions. Maybe that’s why it backfired so terribly with Ian.

So for once, you wanted to stand up with Jaebum. To call out the injustices of treatments forced on patients, like Ian. Treatments they’d placed on patients that only wanted to forget, because no one wants to remember traumas and everything that makes them feel like failures.

You knew, however, if you took that chance to be brave for once you would end up like Jaebum. Uselessly struggling against orderlies who came prepared with syringes to make you complacent and an endless day being locked for god knew how long inside seclusion.

It was cowardice that kept your mouth shut. All of you stayed quiet as an orderly you aptly nicknamed, “The Bull,” grabbed at the neck of Jaebum’s sweater. That was all it took for him to react violently. Jaebum’s elbow flew back with such force it dislodged The Bull’s grip, which only seemed to make it worse.

“Jaebum, please do not struggle.” Dr. Thompson’s voice didn’t sound as soothing as he probably imagined. Obvious agitation outlined every word; the struggle forcing all of you up from your chairs and away from the fighting. “Everyone out. Now.”

A part of you hated listening. For not firmly digging your feet in to stand for something you agreed wasn’t right. It was an odd thought. Since Ian was the usual instigator of the chaos of how these ended. Never Jaebum. Maybe he just felt like in Ian’s absence he needed to take over for him.

“You play god with everyone’s emotions and leave them to drown alone in the aftermath. You are the reason Christian keeps escaping and Hyujin is gone! It’s you! It’s all of you!”

Jaebum’s rage became more apparent with each sentence and broke as his throat formed the words of his former friend. Former because he’d found himself as one of Dr. Thompson’s experimental new treatments. A treatment that brought back too much Hyujin couldn’t cope with - was forced to confront - before he was ready.

The ward still felt hollow - missing in the sound of Hyujin’s laugh.

You would’ve been impressed with the way Jaebum was laying into the doctor. He was holding his own against the orderly at his arms until the Bull snuck behind him and brought him falling down to the cold concrete floor.

That was the last you saw of Jaebum as you were ushered outside the doors. You faced them for a long time. No one questioned why you stood at the entrance as Jaebum’s yelling dulled to nothing. It was too late for you to run back and play the role of knight in shining armor and standing in front of the door would only make the staff assume you were waiting to cause a scene.

Turning on your heel you headed towards the living area. Your mind racing heavily with indecision and not paying attention to the overcrowded chairs and couches. You bypassed them all to head to your favorite window seat. It was opposite to the one everyone knew as Jaebum’s; reading a new book every week during free time. It was so engrained to the fabric of the facility that no one tried to take it from him. Not even Ian.

You folded into yourself as soon as you sat down on the window seat. Your chin pressed into your shoulder so you could get a better look outside. The vibrant colors of changing leaves reminding you that fall was coming. Maybe they would let you work outside if you were good? You were tired of doing bathroom and kitchen duties, but because of Ian’s latest stunt no one was allowed outside. Not until the fences were made higher with wire curled along the top.

If thoughts could be breathed into existence, you were positive you alone would be deemed responsible for Ian walking, right then and there, through the facility's double doors. Of course, Ian could never simply enter a room quietly.

Christian entered every room like a force. Wild and unpredictable. Mother Nature couldn’t compete with his massive hurricane personality. No one could come close, because underneath all that unhinged nature was a magmatism that far outreached just good looks.

Was Christian good looking? Devilishly so. It was his way with words, however, that left many people reeling. Not just fellow patients, but staff as well. He was painfully charming and, if you weren’t prepared for his wide-set smile directed in your direction, you were going to find yourself in trouble. Deep, deep Christian-flavored trouble. The staff had even labeled him with a warning of “verbal jujitsu” - you had to stay miles ahead of the conversation or you’d find yourself like the recently fired psych tech who’d handed over the ward keys without a second thought.

Seriously. That’s how Christian escaped this time. All the other times, well, the man could be considered the second coming of Houdini.

“How have you been, Bob? Are your feet still giving you grief, Margo?”

It was impressive how he acted like it wasn’t a big deal he’d magically reappeared. The guard and orderlies awkwardly keep watch over the double doors he’d come through like he’d disappear back into thin air.

You hated how happy you became hearing the richness of his voice. The way his accent reminded you of the battle of wills on what was the proper way to say, “water,” and the teasing you gave him about constantly saying, “Naurr”.

“It’s Margaret, jackass,” the older psych tech mumbled in reply. She didn’t even bother to look up from putting a new bandage on Bob’s hands.

“Missed you too, babe.”

You watched his reflection in the safety of the glass of the window. You didn’t want to show how eager you were to see him - or to find out that every time he left the ward became almost too much to bear alone.

In the safety of the window, you could pretend the call to freedom was what kept your eyes hypnotized. Not the sleeveless tee he’d tucked inside the waist of skinny jeans that hugged to the muscles like paint or the layers of tattoos that covered honey skin. He wasn’t tan when he’d left. Where had Ian’s adventures taken him this time?

You would get the chance to ask him yourself.

When his eyes caught sight of your huddled frame curled in the window seat his trajectory changed completely. He didn’t think you’d noticed him yet, but it didn’t stop his infamous megawatt smile from brightening up his features and the butterflies he’d left trapped in your gut instantly springing back to life.

The only downside? You were more than positive Ian saw you only as a sister. If he’d thought of you in the past as anything else you would’ve definitely known by now. As much as Ian was known for his charisma and whirlwind energy, he was also known for slipping into the janitor’s closet with more than a few now-fired staff members.

In a matter of seconds, he left the mirage of the window to become real beside you. The smell of cigarettes and his preferred cologne enveloped you, instantly turning the space intimate. You tried your best to ignore him. Ian would receive nothing but the side eye from you after the latest shit he’d pulled.

He let out a heavy sigh as a finger playfully poked into your side. He wiggled the digit in a weak attempt to tickle you thinking it would be enough for you to finally look at him. Fat chance. Using your elbow, you pushed down with just enough force to dislodge him from your side. The act forced a heavy sigh to flare his nostrils as he leaned back against the window.

“Come on, ‘Roo. You can’t be that mad at me?”

Of course, he would use your nickname. The nickname you earned one night when he’d tried to tickle you until you couldn’t breathe. To be honest, he thinks you’d kicked him accidentally in the chest because you might wet yourself. The truth? Ian had gotten dangerously close. A few times it felt like his lips were just a few sharp breaths away from landing on yours, and that night you’d felt hollow. So hollow. All you wanted was to burn and Ian…he was so full of fire and life and for once you wanted to know what it felt like to be filled with something other than emptiness.

You wanted to catch fire too.

So you’d kicked out at him in panic. Hence how you became his Kangaroo. His ‘Roo.

“Actually,” you began, biting out the world with each syllable. “I can be upset with you and I most definitely am.”

“Don’t be like that, ‘Roo. I know you missed me.”

“No, I didn’t. It was rather peaceful while you were off on whatever antics you decided to get into.”

A tsk sent his bottom lip into a pout as he crossed his arms. His shoulders lean further down the window and slightly into your view.

God, why did he have to be so heartbreakingly handsome?

You refused to make eye contact with him. Don’t do it. It’s a trick. You knew it was a trick. A sneaky ploy and yet…you looked. One look was all it took and Ian knew he had you.

“I missed you.” His voice caressed your skin like velvet causing it to erupt in goosebumps. “So, I know if I missed you that can only mean that you missed me.”

A snort of disbelief left you as you finally gave him what he’d been asking: your full and undivided attention.

“Is that how it works, Ian?”

“Ah!” He beamed. “She finally looks at me.”

You couldn’t keep your eyes from rolling as you tried to face away from him, but Ian wasn’t having it.

“I shouldn’t even do that.”

“Where is all this hostility coming from?” He pouted. “Did you experience another one of Dr. Thompson’s riveting group circles?”

“It’s not funny, Ian. You always leave.” You hated how your voice betrayed you. The way it cracked before you could glue it back together. “You go and leave me here, without you, all the time. One of these days you may not come back.”

All the playfulness slowly drained from his features. The sly smile wilted to a grimace as deep brown eyes scanned over your face. Calculating your words with the body language of guarded arms and saddened eyes. His hands gently grabbed at your elbows to loosen your arms before turning you to him. His head dipped down just a bit to make sure he had you at eye level.

“Hey, ‘Roo. I’m sorry. I come back for you, you know that right?” You knew he was lying, but try telling that to the butterflies fluttering around like crazy in your gut. “These assholes could never catch me if I didn’t turn myself in, and I only turned myself in to get back to you.”

You didn’t know what you would’ve said at that moment. Maybe something he wanted to hear or maybe - finally - you’d have the guts to call him out on his bullshit. Luckily for you, the muffled sound of Jaebum’s screaming slowly grew louder until his struggling body was brought through the double doors from therapy.

“Let me go, you assholes!”

You’d never seen Jaebum fight so fiercely before. The way he flailed his arms to find a way to get them released along with his legs kicking out like a madman. They practically dragged him down the hall towards seclusion. For a split second, in his struggle, his eyes landed on you. His gaze held yours for what felt like a lifetime until the spell was broken. It felt like slow motion as his face turned to see Ian on your right and all the fight drained from his body.

Did he think he was fighting for Ian? Himself? Jaebum was never much for acting out. That was usually Ian who created trouble. Maybe that was why he looked so shocked seeing Jaebum being dragged down to seclusion.

“Oi! What the fuck is this?”

Ian was up off the window seat in seconds. A couple of orderlies were already coming out from behind the nursing station to meet him halfway. Whatever they were saying, you weren’t all too sure. Ian was doing his usual of screaming and shoving causing the orderlies to prepare for a fight. The patients closest to all the commotion desperately trying to get out of the way.

It was all chaos. All classic Ian. The only non-classic thing was Jaebum looking at you in a way you’d never noticed before. It created a row of questions that sat heavily on your tongue and ones you weren’t sure he would ever be willing to answer.

It wasn’t until everything had settled down again that you snuck inside the room that held group therapy. Your eyes instantly homing in on Jaebum’s chair and underneath it one of his grandfather’s books.

Before you dared to push all the way through into the room you gave one last cautious glance to the recreation room and slipped inside. You made sure to hold the door so it didn’t click into place. There was no denying if you were caught sneaking in somewhere you weren’t meant to be you’d be joining Jaebum in your own seclusion room.

The sterile room with its egg-white walls was most definitely not your favorite. The only way to add your own source of color to its walls was to display your thoughts - projecting them out like a fucked up home movie that you’d rather forget.

You made sure to cut across the room silently. Your legs bending at the knee to swoop down to grab the worn-down cover and secure it to your chest.

You couldn’t explain why as you made your way out of the room towards the upper floor that held the seclusion rooms what made you want to do this for him. It’s not like he would thank you, but you weren’t looking for that.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way Jaebum cared for his late grandfather's things. From the sweater he wore daily that was meticulously cleaned and laundered to the few books Jaebum was able to keep from his collection. He coveted them the way others valued trophies but it wasn’t praise that Jaebum found secluded inside their pages: it was peace.

You didn’t know much about him. Jaebum wasn’t much of a sharer. He was reserved. The only way to know him was by the pages you held close to your chest. So, you weren’t terribly sure why you were doing this for him except for the fact you believed no one should go without something that they loved.

Just as you were about to round the last corner to the hallway that held seclusion rooms 1 through 3, you caught a flash of an orderly speaking to a nurse. From the brief moment you’d caught before you found the safety of the opposite wall, they were more than likely flirting.

Ted. That was the name written on his uniform. He’d called Ian a “Psycho,” a handful of times. You wondered if Ted knew the nurse he worshiped spent the same handful of nights sneaking inside Ian’s dorm.

“Do you maybe want to go get breakfast in the morning?”

Breakfast?! You mouthed to yourself before you snuck another peek around the corner.

“Oh, I don’t know, Ted. I might have plans later.”

If your eyes could roll back any harder you would’ve seen brain cells. You knew exactly what her supposed plans were. You could already hear the moans that echoed down the halls like a haunting. The only thing haunted here would be you.

You didn’t have to see Ted’s expression to know he was defeated. He was probably wondering how someone could refuse breakfast or maybe he was finally growing tired of being told no. The mystery of the unknown in this love triangle would sadly (not really) remain a mystery. You didn’t really care if they had breakfast together or hunted Easter eggs. You just wanted them to finish their awkward conversation and leave the damn hallway.

A few more strangled pieces of conversation later and you could hear the shuffling of feet. Quickly, you moved inside a linen closet and quietly shut the door. Your ears straining - waiting - to hear a pair of feet move past your location so you could finish what you came to do.

Every second you were out here and not inside your own dorm waiting for the nurses to come in and check you were there was one second too many in a chance at punishment. After a few more minutes went by and the coast sounded relatively clear, you creeped out from the linen closet and dashed towards the seclusion rooms.

“Jaebum!?” You half whispered half yelled. “Jay!”

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

Ah, there was that condescending voice you’d grown accustomed to. Following the sound of his voice, and with the help of his fingers hanging out of the small seclusion window, you darted towards the back of the hall. Your arms still securely held onto his grandfather’s book and only began to loosen as you got closer to the door.

“I wanted to bring you something before they placed it in lost and found.”

With another cautious glance down the hall, your fingers wrapped around the edges of the book's spine. You offered it up to him and gently started to push it through the small window. Jaebum hadn’t spoken since he noticed what you held in your hands. His fingers overlapped yours as he took it from you. His arms immediately brought it inside with him with the sound of pages flipping while he made sure each page was still accounted for.

“How did you-“ he began, but his words quickly died out.

“Can you believe it ladies and gentlemen? For once, he was too stunned to speak,” you teased.

Jaebum’s eyes narrowed in on your face. His hands wagged the book as if he was going to hit you over the head with it. Who knows, he might have if there wasn’t a 30-pound door stationed between you.

“I’m serious. You came all this way to give me this?”

You shrugged his words off like what you’d done wasn’t a big deal. Both of you knew it was. So many factors that could lead you to where he was, or worse, if they believed you were trying to steal someone else’s property. Which, they one hundred percent would even though kleptomania wasn’t part of your conga line list of disorders.

“I remember how much his things matter to you. I didn’t want Bull or Kojak The Great Dick to get a hold of it. I know they wouldn’t have respected it after today.”

You’d expected a lot of things to come out of this exchange. The main one? At least a thank you. All you were getting now felt like the cold shoulder that featured a very unnerving stare. With every second you were feeling more self-conscious and it took everything in you not to shout, “Boo!” in an attempt to get him to blink.

You couldn’t take the awkwardness of the exchange any longer. Your feet were already backpedaling as your arms swung, thumb extended out, to indicate your exit before you spoke.

“Great well, this was a fun chat-“

“He lies to you, you know.”

Jaebum’s words took you by surprise. You were sure that was the point. His face was set in deep lines of determination as if what he needed to say was something you needed to adhere to like the gospel from the Bible.

“Okay, Jay I’ll bite: who is he?”

“You know who I’m talking about. Ian. It’s who he is. He doesn’t know how to tell the truth, and you always set yourself up for failure with him.”

Maybe Jaebum thought he was being helpful - calling to light all things you were aware of but couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. You must have seemed too weak - gullible - in his eyes for him to believe he needed to say these things.

You eyed him coolly through the window. Your tongue rolled around inside your cheek trying to decide what exactly you should say at this moment. Did he want recognition that you knew you were an idiot? What did it matter to him if you knew Ian didn’t give two fucks about you.

So, the only thing you could settle on was the beginning of a long sigh before you spoke: “I know I might look like a love-sick puppy to you, Jay, but I know my place.”

He tried saying your name to stop you. You just ignored him as you shook your head and allowed yourself to begin to move back down the hall towards the safety of your own dorm.

“It’s alright, Jay I get it. Take care of your grandfather’s things better, okay?”

You didn’t wait to finish your sentence before you were already turning to head down the hallway. The bottom of your feet itching for you to sprint in the opposite direction. Your mind raced over Jaebum’s words and matched them with the growing chasm in your chest.

So lost in your head, you barely caught the sound of his parting, “Thank you,” as you bolted around the corner.

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nerdieforpedro · 6 months

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12/10/2023 - Weekend Update

Nerdie! Look at you staying on a schedule.

I know! Being half-way organized. It's kinda nice.

We'd never thought we'd see the day. So what's new?

I made some fic posts this week:

Sard'ika Sessions - Session Two (Din Djarin x plus size female reader)

Christmas List (Robbie Reyes x reader)

The Brave, The Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore (Volume 3)

A New Tradition with Frankie (Frankie Morales x GN reader)

We also spread positivity though everyone's ask boxes and exchanged lovely messages with each other and loved on each other.

Read anything this week?

I did. A large portion of it is in my Fanfic appreciation post volume 3 which the link is above. I also started a volume 4 because I love highlighting different author's works that I've enjoyed. 😀

I'm just going to pick my top three for the week:

Don't Drink the Punch by @wildemaven (Soft Dave and female reader. I'm a fan of soft Dave. He can be soft and sweet. He and the reader are married and they're at a work event. It's lovely.)

Exposed by @maggiemayhemnj (Ezra and female reader. Turns out this is her first fic. I was flabbergasted. The Imagery, word flow and cadence are all from someone who's pen name is one word, like Cher or Homer or Ms. PayDay.)

Insatiable by @pedge-page (Frankie Morales and female reader. Part three of their three part emotional sexual odyssey with Frankie and the female reader. There's big feelings and lots of smut abound. But there is a sweet end to it.)

What happened outside of fanfics this week?

I was sick most of the week. I ended up in the ED at work and was out for the week. Thankfully I'm on the mend and should be ready this upcoming week for work and beyond! I caught up on different FBI shows, watched Loki with my mom (she wonders if he's going to be at a convention - I'm hoping not so she won't bum rush the man,) and bought a book on flowers. I've also been starting back up on learning Spanish again.

What's coming up this week?

I'm working on another Robbie Reyes fic - likely to be a one shot but dark because the Rider is dark. Gabriel Luna had a birthday this past week, @musings-of-a-rose sent me all the pictures so this is where we are in life right now. All Luna��ed down and what not.

I'm gonna try for some more fluff, maybe with Dieter, Frankie or Benny. Not sure who. We'll see.

I could, possibly, be working on one of my other series that I started and dropped like a hot potato. Maybe they'll have new chapters. People were reading them, which was the weirdest thing.

Session Three of Sard'ika Sessions will be up on Wednesday. The Way is paved with Space Smut according to the Maker. 🫡 We'll be at the mid-point so we're in for a shift, but no worries. Session four, five and six took up a lot of pages in my notebook and it was all outlined with a lot of things. Maybe some more improper beskar use? Might need to touch base with The Armorer on that. 👀 Didn't know that was included in the ancient ways either.

Nerdie, don't be messing with The Creed like that.

To be fair, I did mention in Session one that there would be liberties taken with both The Creed and The Way so the latter sessions are where more of those liberties are taken. Maybe a lot, maybe a little. You'll have to read and see. Different Mandalorians see The Creed differently, why can’t I?

I am curious about what liberties my Space Sister @linzels-blog would make with The Creed. 🤔

Wait, why is it weird that people were reading your other series?

Since I haven't updated them for months, I didn't expect them to get any comments, then they did. It was very sweet and got me thinking, maybe I should finish that at some point, or at least add to it. I'm trying to focus on one at a time. Can't be crossing streams.

We get it, but that joke though? Could have done without that. Any last thoughts?

I need to work more on the pickled Peña project. Haven't finished that yet. Stay safe and hydrated. There are nasty bugs that are wreaking havoc on people's noses and sinuses. We’re very happy that @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @for-a-longlongtime have lived to tell their stories.

Also check your knives and watch your tips. I guess you can palm the tips or take them and do whatever as long as you're safe about it.

Nerdie, what are you talking about...? Do we want to know?

If you know, you know and if you don't, find some hot tips. 😘

Stay safe and don't get any in your eye,

Love Nerdie 💜

(escapes to a certain moodboard 🍆)

Nerdie! You can't just say that and leave! 😠

#fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #gabriel luna #weekend update #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #din djarin #the mandalorian #dieter bravo #robbie reyes #fic recs #watch out for those tips #don’t poke an eye out #Nerdie will always go for the dirty joke #it’s a sure bet

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sunnyseungup · 2 years

Text

Bang Chan fic recs

stray kids | Bang Chan

masterlist

[ last update 231213 ]

hot chocolate { f2l; f } 4,4k @sulfurcosmos

Scintilla Masterlist (series) { red queen au; f, a, s } @mintymiknow chan thoughts… { f } @ppiri-bahng

Wolf Song { werewolf au; a, f, s } @juleswolverton-hyde

christmas with you { f, s } 3,1k @binniesthighs

lungs { s } 886

a love song and a confession { f2l; a,f } @lotus-dly

if you were mine and i was yours { f, a } @/lotus-dly

you reveal how you truly feel about the the thought of being with Chan when the boys talk about what it would be like if you dated each other but your answer leads to an unplanned confession

be honest with me { a, f } @/lotus-dly

when day breaks { sub chan; s,f }

better or worse { marriage au; a, s, f } 4,7k @jl-micasea-fics

Married life is tough, and you’re approaching your limit. Can you rekindle the flames you once had with your distant husband? Or is it already too late?

Wolfsbane { historical au, arranged marriage; f, a, s } 16,7k @healinghyunjin

3 steps back { CEO au; f, c } 5,8k @formidxble

the 2 times bang chan tried to confess and the 1 time he almost did.

my house { CEO au; f ,s } 13k @/formidxble

fixing ties is a part of your job, so why is your boss acting like it isn’t?

parasitic { roomates au, e2l; a, f } 11,8k @luvknow

your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well.

blanket buddies { husband channie, f } @thevampywolf

illicit & priceless { mafia au; a, f } 26k @missinghan

as the leader of the most notorious outlaw organization, chan should have known better than to spare the life of a thief who stole his mother’s ring—the same thief who didn’t just take something as simple as a piece of sentiment.

saturday { f } @/thevampywolf

[2.57] { greaser au, stoner; s, f } Part One | Part Two @lettersfromaphrodite

[8.58] { vampire au, medieval, soulmates, a, f, s } 6,4k @/lettersfromaphrodite

instinct { abo, roomates; f, s, a } ( series ) @fizzydrink698

fate { hogwarts au; f } @themoreleeknow

priceless { rich kid bc, e2l; f, a } 14,3k @chaoticminhos

between the lines { arranged marriage; f, a, s } 12,5k @straylightdream

After being used a nothing more then a pawn to gain the upper hand on Chan. They’re left in a strained marriage and only one way out.

6:26pm { f } 0,4k @daydreaminskz

8:17 pm { f } @minniesvenus

[ 4:57 am ] { f } @/thevampywolf

Weighted blanked { husband Chan, f } @/thevampywolf

Sweet { s, f} 4,1k @tasteleeknow

you're his best friend’s little sister. he's obsessed with you, and you him. he has very good self control—until he’s forced to share a tent with you. forced proximity with corruption kink.

21:12 { f } 0.261k @softiejoon

Untie the knot { f, s } @seospicybin

You finally, finally get to sleep with someone you’ve been secretly crushing on, the popular employee at work, Chris. Everything was perfect until all of a sudden, your father comes barging in and trap him in a family affair.

Koala { roommates2l; f, s } 4,3k @/tasteleeknow

your roommate is a very physically affectionate person, you're not. after brushing him off over and over it takes him going on a successful date for you to realise maybe the thought of him touching someone else like he did you was worse than anything. clashing love languages, jealousy and mutual pining.

5:51pm { sleepy grumpy channie; f }

Drabble { a, f } @rachalixie

Bite my ass { hybrids, roommates; s, f } 4,7k @snow-pegasus

Puppy love { f } 1,9k @gimmeurtmi

embrace { cuddles, f } @kae-art-writes

runaway princess { knight!chan, princess!yn; a, f, s }16,8k @therhythmafterthesummer

Your best friend has sent her most trusted knight to help you escape your abusive home, an intriguing man with many facets you can’t wait to uncover.

Royal Guard!Bangchan x Princess!reader with voyeurism and edging { s } 1,5k @mint-yooxgi

Drunk with Chan { f2l; s } 2,7k @ballelino

No but november (loser 5# ) { f, s } 3,2k @sluttywonwoo

have me { s } 0,6k @bngpxw

Just bang chan being needy

Lean On Me Today { s, f } 1,4k @oceanlix

[10:02AM] { a, f } 1,1k @changsbin

the blankets envelop your tangled limbs in a hug that almost rivals the warmth emanating from chan’s body, and your boy needs a not so quiet reminder of how much you care about him.

Pack sharing { s } @planet-dusk

warmth { slight angst, f } @jeongintwenty3

bangchan, being the clingy boyfriend he is, needs your warmth in order for him to sleep; he’ll do anything, to get that.

01 sharing a bed series { f2l; s } @skzdarlings

Maniac #1 - Chris Bang: WOLF BY THE TAIL { psychological, crime; a, s } 13.5k @cb97percent

HOST REQUESTED: Chris Bang { s } 8,2k @/cb97percent

for real this time { f } 3k @linorachas

The three times you realize why the whole school thinks you and Chan are dating, and the one time the truth is revealed.

Mafia boss Chan and you are his queen @hardstraykidshours

Stupid Cupid { college; f } 2,4k @skzsauce01

Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves, but you and everyone else at this party wears them on their cheeks. Thanks, Lia. Thanks, Felix. Thanks, Chan. College AU.

The King of the Forrest { fantasy, royalty, medieval setting, werewolf Channie; s } 3k @/therhytmafterthesummer

As a Princess, all you’d ever been deemed good for was doing what you were told and keeping to your role, something that frustrated you beyond belief. It wasn’t until you met that young wolf in the forest that you finally realised there was more out there for you.

the chance of love { e2l, rich kids, troublemaker yn, student council president Chan; a, f } 13,8k @maatryoshkaa

The one where you’re determined to find one flaw about your seemingly picture-perfect class president, and he’s determined to make sure you pass the class—no matter how hard you’re trying to fail.

of floral lace { wedding planner, strangers2l; f, s } 11,2k @setsugekka

Wedding planning is a stressful enough job as it is, without the added trouble of a handsome best man who can't seem to take his attention off of you. But when it comes to 'meant to be,' maybe he knows something that you just don't quite know yet.

A Sticky Situation { f2l; f, c } @thevampywolf

Chan’s questions { f } @cbini

Channie vs a bill @scorpioracha

get up { mob boss Channie, hurt, comfort; f } 3,4k @miirohs

Marital Duties { s } 9,4k @ch4nb4ng

Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.

Day six—corruption with Chan { mafia; s, f } 3,2k @/tasteleeknow

eager to please Chan eating you out { frat boy Chan; s } 3k @seungminheart

Death by a thousand cuts { a, s } 4,2k @straylightdream

One bad fight leads to you breaking up. What happens when you can't stay away from the one person you truly love.

Series

WereRoomies { werewolves; f, a, s } @/therhythmafterthesummer

It’s Cold Out { roomies2l; s } 7k

Rut { s, f } 4k

Alpha Dog { s } 17k

It’s warm in { s, f } 4k

Love is Easy { ; f, s } 10k

Surprise { s, f } 2k

Headcanon

Afraid to Love You { a, s } 9k

DON’T LET ME LOVE YOU {forbidden romance, cheating; a, s } @/cb97percent

Chapter 1. 9,9k

TOO HOT TO HANDLE { s } @/seospicybin

You and Chan become contestants in a reality dating show

Part 1

Part 2

Texts

Random texts with bf Chan @abcdefgiwsmcty

Note: please let me know if the links are not working ! I’ll try to fix them as soon as possible ^^

#bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #stray kids #stray kids recs

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sequinsmile-x · 5 months

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Fifty Eight

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

As ever, thank you so so much for your love on this fic. It means so much.

Sorry for the two week gap on this. My anniversary fic and the holidays kind of got in the way, but we will now be back to weekly SGW updates. As long as you keep reading and enjoying - I will keep writing them!!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily chuckles as she picks Lily up from where she’d been sitting, grabbing her just before she put a rouge Christmas tree decoration in her mouth.

“I don’t think so, sweet girl,” Emily says, kissing the side of her head as she settles her on her hip. She tickles Lily’s belly and smiles when the little girl giggles. It was one of her favourite sounds in the world, something that could always cheer her up no matter what, “You trying to help Daddy and Jack take down the decorations?”

“No one is helping Daddy,” Aaron chips in, raising his eyebrow at his wife as he carefully puts the lights from the tree back in the box. He tilts his head towards Jack who had gotten bored helping Aaron put everything away and was now playing his new video game.

Emily winks at him before she turns her attention back to Lily, “He says that like he doesn’t get annoyed if we help and ‘put things back wrong.’”

Aaron walks over and shakes his head at Emily, leaning in to press a kiss against her lips before he kisses Lily’s head, “Mommy isn’t the one who had to untangle the lights after she just threw them into the box last year.”

She playfully narrows her eyes and looks past him to make sure Jack isn’t paying attention and then leans in closer to her husband, “I apologised. In your favourite way.”

He can’t help but smile, any pretend irritation at her lack of help, something he knew would be more of a hindrance than anything, long gone. The holidays had been hard. He’d watched as his wife did her very best to be happy and present for Lily and Jack, desperate to make their little girl’s first Christmas a good one, but he’d been able to see past the facade she’d put on for their children.

She was still grieving the miscarriage - they both were. The emotions around it made more complicated by the fact they hadn’t known she was pregnant and the comments from her doctor.

It was hard. She’d smiled and laughed and helped Lily open all her presents and then helped Jack figure out his game when he asked, his palm on her knee as he leaned in close to her whilst she read the instructions. After the kids went to bed she’d collapse in on herself, her shoulders physically sagging as she finally let herself feel the weight of everything. He’d held her in their bed more than once as she cried, her tears something she would only allow herself in the dark safety of their bedroom, and he wouldn’t mention it in the morning. He knew her well enough to understand she had to do this her way, that he could support her by simply being there.

It was the main reason he was taking down the decorations on January 1st. Usually, she liked to take them down when the 12 Days of Christmas were over, the holidays the only time she would ever even think about sticking to tradition, but he knew this year she wanted it over with. He’d been worried he’d made the wrong when she first stepped into the living room that morning, the decorations already partially down, but the relief that had flashed in her eyes, the way she’d kissed him a little fiercer than she usually would with the kids around, let him know he’d done exactly the right thing.

Aaron kisses her and then pulls back, smiling at the sight of Lily snuggling into Emily’s side, her cheek against her chest. Seeing them together never failed to make his chest swell with joy. He wished Emily could see herself as he did, could see how she was Lily’s safe space, and Jack’s too when he was here. He wished he could go back to when she was pregnant with Lily and worried about her skills as a mother and tell her how good she was at this. How Lily would only really go to sleep for her, how she’d seek her out if she wasn’t around.

“I think someone is ready for her nap.”

Emily tilts her head to look down at Lily and she nods, “I’ll go put her down,” she says, kissing the top of Lily’s head as she runs a hand up and down her back, “Come on Lils,” she says, turning to leave the room, her voice fading as she gets further away, “Let’s leave Daddy to his tidying.”

He shakes his head lovingly as she goes, but before he can get back to taking the tree down the doorbell rings and he checks his watch.

“That will be your mom, buddy,” he says, smiling at his son as he scrambles up off of his place on the floor, his game abandoned. He was excited to see Haley, just like he was always excited to come here when it was time too, and Aaron was pleased they’d been able to work this out, that Jack was happy despite everything, “Go get your stuff from your room, and say goodbye to Emily and your sister.”

“Ok, Daddy,” Jack says, already running out of the room, taking the stairs a little too loudly considering Emily was trying to get Lily to sleep.

Aaron walks quickly to the front door, knowing if the bell rang again it also wouldn’t help in getting the 5-month-old to sleep. He smiles at Haley as he opens the door and steps back so she can walk into the house.

“Hi Haley,” he says, “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” she replies, smiling as she looks around, “Where is everyone else?”

“Emily is trying to get Lily down,” he says, closing the door behind them, “And Jack is just getting his things.”

Haley nods and smiles politely, “Did he make it to midnight?” She asks, “He told me on the phone last night that he was going to try.”

Aaron chuckles as he shakes his head, “Not even close,” he says, leading her towards the kitchen, “He was asleep by his normal bedtime, even Lily outlasted him because we couldn’t get her to sleep last night,” he smiles as he turns to the coffee machine, “Coffee?”

She nods, “Yes please,” she watches as he starts to make the coffee, “I’m glad you’re all feeling better,” she says as she takes a seat at the breakfast bar, “It would have sucked if you’d all been sick for Lily’s first Christmas and New Year.”

He frowns, stepping towards the pantry to reach for the Splenda, “Feeling better?” He asks, tilting his head in confusion as he turns back to her, “What do you mean?”

Haley narrows her eyes and clicks her tongue, her hands clasped on the counter, “You said you had the flu,” she says, pressing her lips together, “That’s why you couldn’t have Jack a couple of weeks ago and ended up having him the whole of this week to make up for it.”

He curses himself internally for forgetting the lie he’d told his ex-wife when Emily had lost the baby, and he sighs, clearing his throat as he steps back towards the counter, hoping he can cover up his mistake.

“Oh, of course,” he says, smiling tightly at her as he passes her a cup of coffee, “We all recovered quickly.”

There’s a moment of silence as she stares at him, and he knows she’s seen through the lie, that she’d likely always doubted whether it was the truth. They’d known each other too long to lie to each other.

“Why are you lying to me?” She asks, her frown deepening as she shakes her head at him, “Why didn’t you want Jack that week?”

He sighs, his palms flat against the kitchen counter, “It’s not that we didn’t want him, Haley,” he says, “You know that. We just couldn’t that week.”

She clenches her teeth, irritation licking at her insides as she glares at her ex-husband, “Why not?”

He knows he could solve this by telling her the truth, that any anger she felt would disappear in a second, but he won’t. Emily wouldn’t want him to, which was why he’d lied in the first place.

“Can’t we just leave it at we couldn’t have him that week,” he says, pressing his lips together as he looks at her, “You have to trust me.”

She scoffs, “I have to trust my ex-husband who just admitted that he lied to me?” she shakes her head and blows out a shaky breath, “I knew this was going to happen.”

“Knew what was going to happen?”

“I knew as soon as you and Emily had your own family my son would be left behind-”

“He is our son,” Aaron seethes, cutting her off, “And he is not being left behind. How can you-”

“What are you two doing?” Emily says as she walks in, baby monitor in hand, as she interrupts them, closing the kitchen door behind her, “Jack is upstairs, I gave him his game to distract him. I could hear you from the nursery,” she stands next to Aaron and places the baby monitor down on the counter. She sighs as she looks at Haley, “I asked Aaron to lie to you.”

“Sweetheart,” Aaron says, his usual attempts to be careful around Haley, to not show off his relationship with Emily, nowhere to be found. He was more worried about his wife than anything else, he places his hand on her back and catches her gaze as she looks at him, “You don’t have to.”

She knows she doesn’t have to, and she doesn’t really want to, but she knows Haley won’t stop unless she gets to the truth. That this would escalate more than it already had, and the person who would end up getting hurt was the little boy trapped in the middle of it.

She smiles tightly at her husband before she looks at Haley. She reaches for Aaron’s hand and squeezes it, a silent request for support, and she blows out a shaky breath, “I had a miscarriage. I was in pain and I was grieving and I didn’t want him to see me like that,” she says, her voice cracking slightly, saying it outloud something she still struggled with, “That’s why we couldn’t have Jack.”

Haley’s eyes go wide, all of her fight draining out of her in a second, “Oh,” she breathes out, stuttering before she clears her throat, “I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” she presses her lips together, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Emily chokes on a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh and she shakes her head, her jaw tight as she tries to keep her cool, all of the frustration she’d felt for always having to consider Haley’s feelings, even with something like this, bubbling up in her gut, burning its way up into her chest as it finally escapes.

“Because it’s none of your business, Haley. It’s mine and Aaron’s. No one else's,” she says, blowing out a breath as she lowers her voice, reminding herself the kids were upstairs, “I know this is complicated, but this is not your thing to be upset about,” she swallows thickly, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. “And we both know Aaron is an excellent dad, it’s one of the reasons we both had children with him, so don’t ever try and imply otherwise,” she squeezes Aaron’s hand before she steps away, “I’ll go tell Jack you’re ready to go.”

Aaron and Haley fall into silence as she leaves the room, the quiet almost deafening as he looks at his ex-wife, her eyes fixed on the counter.

“It’s impressive that she’s able to defend you whilst she’s also upset,” Haley says, her smile fading when her comment falls flat, “I’m sorry, Aaron,” she says, clearing her throat as she looks up at him, “I never should have said what I said, I know you love Jack.”

He shrugs, “It’s fine.”

“Were you…trying for another baby?” She asks, “Lily is only 5 months…” She drifts off as he raises his eyebrows, and she chuckles mirthlessly, “Right, not my business,” she stands up and smiles tightly at him, “I am sorry, Aaron. Please tell Emily I am too.”

He nods, “I will,” he says, smiling when he hears Jack’s thundering footsteps on the hardwood floor, “Incoming.”

“Mommy!”

Aaron watches as his son enthusiastically tells his mom about his Christmas and New Year, even though they’d spoken on the phone every evening, and he’s grateful that even if things were hard sometimes, his son was happy and loved.

___

Aaron picks up his clothes, and the ones Emily had left on the bathroom floor, and dumps them in the hamper, shaking his head lovingly at his wife. She was predictable in her messiness sometimes, a walking contradiction in the fact she loved the kitchen to be clean and the bedrooms to be organised but seemingly didn’t care about the bathrooms. He didn’t mind, he knew he had his faults too, his vacuuming something that left a lot to be desired, and he’d happily pick up after her for the rest of his life.

He walks out into the bedroom and frowns when he sees the bed is empty, the covers on Emily’s side askew when she’d only been lying there a few minutes ago when he walked into the bathroom. The bedroom door is open, and it only takes a few steps towards it for him to realise that the nursery door is too, light filtering out into the hallway. As he gets closer he hears Emily singing, her voice quiet and soft as it draws him in.

“Dans la forêt, il fait nuit, les animaux sont endormis

Dans leur maison, les petits cochons partagent le même lit.

Le petit chaperon rouge a fait des bisous à maman

Elle n’a plus peur du méchant loup et dort paisiblement.”

He smiles as enters the nursery. Emily was on the loveseat, Lily fast asleep against her chest, her cheek squished against her t-shirt, a small patch of drool forming beneath her open mouth.

“She okay?”

Emily looks up at him and nods, tilting her head to look down at Lily, “I saw that she was awake on the monitor” she says, kissing their daughter’s forehead, “I think she just wanted a cuddle,” she smiles sadly at him, “I think I did too.”

He knows it’s the closest she’ll come to asking for comfort, at least right now, so he walks over and sits next to her. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her closer, careful not to disturb Lily, and he kisses Emily’s temple. He wished he could take all the pain she’d ever felt away, physical and emotional, but he knows he can’t. He knows she wouldn’t want him to, even though she’d do the same for him if she was given the chance, so he does what he can do - he sits there and holds her close, happy to provide the support they both knew she wanted, even if she didn’t need it.

“It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?” She says, pressing her lips together as she tilts her head to look at him, “No matter what, she’s always going to be involved.”

It’s a conversation they’d have countless times, one that never got any easier. They’d spoken about this when they got engaged, when they found out they were having Lily, and he knew they’d have it again. He feels guilt fill his chest, making it momentarily hard to breathe until he gets a whiff of her shampoo, and something uniquely her that lay beneath it, her presence a balm to him no matter what.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, stamping a kiss against her lips, “I wish it was simpler.”

She hums, “I know,” she says, kissing him before she pulls back, “Me too. But it’s our life, and I wouldn’t change it for anything,” she blows out a steady breath, “I…I didn’t want her to know.”

“I know you didn’t,” he says, an apology imprinted into every word, the guilt flooding his chest again, “I’m sorry I didn’t remember what I’d said to her,” he shakes his head at himself, “If I had this wouldn’t have happened.”

She chuckles softly and shakes her head at him, “Well, I’m not about to be angry that my husband is a shitty liar,” she says moving one hand from Lily’s back and cupping his cheek. She moves her thumb back and forth on his stubbled skin, “We’ll move past it. We always do,” she kisses him before she rests her head on his shoulder, “I want to sit here for a while. I don’t want to put her down.”

“We can stay here as long as you want,” he says, running his hand up and down her arm, “Shall I sing a lullaby?”

She raises her eyebrow at him, “Lily is asleep.”

“I meant for you,” he says seriously, the glint in his eyes giving him away, “Although unlike some people I can’t sing in French.”

She hums, “I guess I can accept English,” she says, and he playfully rolls his eyes at her before he clears his throat to start.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are grey

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away.”

She presses her lips together, tears she doesn’t expect pressing at the back of her eyes as he sings, and she closes her eyes, letting the rumble of his voice wash over her, bringing her a sense of peace she had never known existed before him.

When he finishes the song the room falls into silence, and for a moment he thinks she’s fallen asleep.

“Aaron?” She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, baby,” he replies, his lips pressed against her temple.

“You really can’t sing.”

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss

24 notes · View notes

calunalilly · 2 months

Text

Questions for Writers

Haven't done one of these ever so... here we go :D Thanks for the tag @riversofmars

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

128

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,815,281

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Last Tango in Halifax

Doctor Who

Happy Valley

Collateral

As long as we have Nicola Walker and/or Sarah Lancashire I'm there!

Some of the others include:

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

These Are The Days Of Our Lives - a series of Last Tango in Halifax fics based on prompts from Tumblr, these were meant to be one shots but found myself weaving it all together int oa bigger story!

The Story - my canon companion to Last Tango - weaving things around the canon with no divergence to make it a love story - this was bloody hard!!!

More Time, More Life, More Feeling - another Last Tango, and probably one of my favourites - I still read this fairly often like a little comfort blanket haha.

The Big L. - my very first outing with Last Tango. I still love this story even though I look back at it and cringe a little giving it was the first thing I ever wrote, but it means a lot to me.

Fall On Me - a collab that I did with @question-of-perception that explores things from a different perspective for Last Tango!

I've actually written far more for DW than LTIH but you wouldn't know it!

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course! Each and every one, it's so lovely when I get them and I get so excited!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm definitely a happy endings girl and I can't stand it when things don't work out, so this is hard... Maybe

Between the Eyes because it wasn't an immediate resolution?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hahah all of them have happy endings! I would probably have to say

New Day Coming for DW, perhaps, although love the one for What Christmas Means To Me as well. In terms of Last Tango in Halifax, probably The Big L. because I was so determined to give them their happy ending, its fluffy mcfluff.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully no, I would definitely cry hahah.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Um. Yes. Probably too much, but its a public service, right? RIGHT?!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes, all the time! My maddest one is probably Call It Dreaming which is a crossover between DW/Last Tango/Happy Valley/Collateral and also has some Stranger Things elements... That was madness, haha.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of! Hope it stays that way...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I feel like I'm some kind of co-writing slut, hahaha. Yes. With @riversofmars, @question-of-perception, @mrskeeleyhawes, @meluisart, @pocketofpencils and also with some of the folks over at the Hebden Bridge Discord Server. I really enjoy it!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

It's a close toss up between Caroline Mckenzie Dawson/Gillian Greenwood and Liv Chenka/Helen Sinclair <3

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hmm... I've got a lot of ideas for different things that I make notes on and a few WIPS, but I'm sure I will come back to them eventually!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Maybe dialogue? To be honest I don't really know, I just go for it and hope for the best hahaha.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel that sometimes I fall back on the same language/phrasing for things and I annoy myself, and always think it's super noticeable in my writing!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I have the odd bit where there is a point but otherwise CBA. I don't speak any other languages haha.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Last Tango in Halifax.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Whyyyyy do I have to choose just one?! I love More Time, More Life, More Feeling for Last Tango, Interstellar for DW (the middle section is probably, in my head, one of the better bits of writing I've done), Danger Zone because Top Gun AU makes me die, and also Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost with @riversofmars because Lord of the Rings was the first fic that I ever read way back when I was an angsty teen fangirl. Hah.

Tagging some people I think might be interested but anyone who sees this and fancies it, please fell free! @katiedingo @meluisart @ultramassivecollectorcupcakeblr @pocketofpencils @darkbloomiana

#questions #fic writers #fic writing

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hauntingcryptids · 1 year

Text

And His Heart Grew Three Sizes That Day

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary - After everything that happened in the universe, you just wanted a calm Christmas with everyone you cared about, including The Master.

Based On This Request -

Warnings - The Doctor and The Extended Fam being a bit rude, The Master feeling depressed, some suggestive bits, some references to season 12 canon. This is a canon divergent fic - let’s forget that The Power of The Doctor happened for a bit.

Word Count - 4593

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Requested by @sessa23. Thank you so much for this request! I really enjoyed writing it, even though it made me emotional. I hope that you enjoy this and have a great Christmas!

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It was almost time for everyone to arrive, and you were dreading the decisions you had made leading up to this day. Even How The Grinch Stole Christmas playing in your living room couldn’t calm you down!

A couple of weeks ago, after The Doctor had brought you, Dan, and Yaz home for the beginning of the holiday season, you had the brilliant idea to host a Christmas dinner for everyone. And your tired, adrenaline and adventure-muddled brain meant everyone, including The Master.

You had plenty of opportunities to change your mind and not invite The Master or uninvite him even, but you could never bring yourself to do it. Despite how The Master treated The Doctor and The Extended Fam, he tried to treat you with the utmost respect, always.

You don’t think The Doctor knew, or if she did, she didn’t tell you, but you had texted and written to The Master many times. He initiated contact first. He was supercilious and threatening, with an undertone of flirting, during his first message to you. You knew that he meant to scare you, even though he was probably joking. You didn’t respond to his threat, though. Instead, you asked him where he had found his coat; you declared your desire to have a coat like that, seeing how warm it looked on him. This began a series of communications between the two of you. You talked about everything, including your shared pain of being ignored by The Doctor.

It was probably dangerous for you to share such personal information with an intergalactic criminal, but you couldn’t stop. The Master just seemed to understand you on a deeper level than The Fam and definitely more than The Doctor ever could.

Things became serious between the two of you, though, when the two of you began calling and face-timing each other. Again, he called you first. You were having a panic attack over something minor in retrospect, and somehow The Master knew and called you to help you. He took your panic very seriously and quickly calmed you down. Now, on top of your regular texts and letters, you and The Master called nearly every night before you, at least, went to bed and sometimes in the morning or throughout the day.

It never seemed to cross your mind why The Master was so attached to you until today. Finally, you realised that he was lonely. You obviously couldn’t assume everything, but after all the conversations you had with The Master, you came to the conclusion that he was, at least, a bit remorseful for the things he did and he just wanted, or needed, someone to want him in return. Maybe he was only remorseful because he had accidentally hurt you in the past because of your closeness with The Doctor. Either way, The Doctor was wrong about him; The Master wasn’t an irredeemable monster. You just hoped that putting The Master in this environment today wouldn’t trigger him. For his sake, you hoped that this Christmas dinner went smoothly.

You were setting up your dining room table for the fourth time when Graham and Ryan arrived at your flat. You were glad that they arrived first. Graham especially always managed to calm you down. He was probably the person you opened up to the most other than The Master. Your relationships between the two obviously weren’t comparable, but Graham was definitely a support person for you.

After placing some presents under your Christmas tree and putting some food away, Graham helped you organise the table to where it wasn’t so cluttered and busy while Ryan prepared the three of you some drinks.

Dan arrived next, with a bundle of presents under one arm and a stack of tin boxes filled to the brim with homemade cookies in the other. A bag filled with Christmas crackers hung precariously from one of his pinkies.

Yaz arrived with The Doctor, which didn’t surprise you. It seemed to not surprise Dan, Graham and Ryan either, so you were happy to not be the only one to see the obvious connection between the two. The Doctor had brought some alien dish that you were frankly scared to eat, while Yaz made up for that by bringing two large dishes that looked delicious.

You still hadn’t told any of your friends of the other suspected guest, however, The Master still wasn’t there, and it had been about half an hour since he was supposed to arrive. Maybe he wasn’t going to come. If he wasn’t, there was no need to tell your friends that you had invited someone that tried to murder them on multiple occasions to Christmas dinner. You could just enjoy the day with them and stop stressing about losing them as long as they didn’t ask any questions.

“Why do you have an extra seat set up, Y/n?” Yaz asked after the current conversation the six of you were having dried up.

“Oh, I just think that the table looks better that way. If I don’t set up that seat, then it just feels weird.” You lied, but you hoped that no one would question you too much.

“That makes sense. One of my previous regenerations was like that! You would've gotten along well with him.” The Doctor stated before slurping up the neon green, spindly food of the alien dish she brought.

You were going to ask about The Doctor’s previous regeneration because you loved hearing about her past even though she rarely talked about it, but then there was a knock on your door. You thought it was a neighbour at first, but then three more knocks followed. It was him. The Master actually showed up.

“Who’s that?” Yaz questioned.

“Maybe carolers?” Dan pondered out loud.

“I’ll get the door! Everyone stay here. Enjoy the meal.” You jumped up from your seat and ran to the door of your apartment. You opened it frantically to see an anxious-looking Master. You had never seen him like that before and worry instantly washed over you.

“Happy Christmas.” You commented in the hope that it might ease his worry, but it did not.

“Yeah, happy Christmas.”

“Are you alright?” You were about to reach out to hold his arm reassuringly, but you decided against it.

“Everyone else is here, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. I didn’t tell them that you were coming, just in case …”

“Just in case I backed out. I’m not The Doctor, love. I don’t do that to the people I care about.”

“Are you ready to meet them or … ?” You cut yourself off when you heard The Doctor shout about what was taking so long.

“I think we should just get the confrontational bit over with. I am starving and I heard that you Humans eat loads at Christmas!” The Master bumped your shoulder reassuringly as he showed himself into your flat. He wanted to try and seem calm for you so as to not worry you more than you clearly already were. He looked around for a bit, fascinated by being in your space and finally seeing how you live. After closing your apartment door and pulling The Master away from sneaking away to look into your bedroom or break into The Doctor’s TARDIS, you lead The Master to your kitchen and to all of your other guests.

“Who was at the door, Y/n? Are we expecting someone else?” You stuttered for a moment, unsure really of what to say. You had not prepared enough for this part of the day. You felt The Master walk up behind you and into the kitchen. You then saw the faces of your friends contort into various forms of fear, disgust, anger and confusion.

“Hello. Happy Christmas, everyone.” The Master gave an awkward wave to your friends as he anxiously shifted back and forth on his feet.

“Y/n, can I speak with you for a moment?” The Doctor asked, but it wasn’t a question. She was already beginning to stand from her chair and walk out of the kitchen.

“Of course, Doctor. Master, you can sit in the open seat next to mine.” The Doctor and the Master glared at each other when they passed. The Doctor felt betrayed that you would invite him here. The Master was just upset that The Doctor was choosing to ruin your holidays with bickering.

“Why did you invite him here, Y/n?” The Doctor asked angrily once the two of you were alone and as far away from your kitchen as possible.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Y/n?”

“Isn’t Christmas a time for forgiveness, Doctor? And besides, no one should be alone on Christmas, including him.” The Doctor sighed as if she were trapped. She understood your position, but she continued to be sceptical of The Master’s motives. But it was Christmas, so maybe he deserved one more chance.

“I don’t like that you’ve done this.”

“Fine, but can we yell at each other later and just enjoy ourselves today?” The Doctor nodded defeatedly. Then you and The Doctor walked back into the kitchen in silence. You could tell from the faces of The Master and your friends that they all heard your conversation, and frankly, you didn’t care. The Master was there for you when you needed him, probably more than The Doctor and The Fam had, and you didn’t care who knew about it.

It was uncomfortably silent while the seven of you ate. This isn’t what you wanted. You don't know why, but every time you imagined today, the seven of you were happy and joking around. No one would be mentioning the Kasaavin or Gallifrey or the Timeless Child; it would just be a fun day between unlikely friends. It was just seven people with a lot of trauma having a bit of fun. But you now thought that to be a naive daydream and you cursed yourself for setting this whole dinner up.

You felt The Master bump the side of your leg with his knee. You looked over at him. The Master, you could tell, was trying to ask you if you were alright without using telepathy. He knew that The Doctor would have called him out for doing that if he had. You smiled at him before returning to stare at your food. You didn’t want him to know how upset you were.

The atmosphere was still incredibly tense. You racked your brain for a moment about how to salvage the day because the food wasn’t working. But nothing popped into your head. You couldn’t take it anymore. You felt like the day was ruined, that all of your friends were disappointed in you, and that you had forced The Master into a difficult situation for no reason. You needed to get out of this suffocating environment. You stood up abruptly and left the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What are you doing here?” The Doctor immediately sneered at her best enemy as soon as you had left the room.

“Y/n invited me.”

“You are planning something! I know it! You’ve hypnotised Y/n in order to get closer to us and you are planning something horrible and deadly!”

“I just want to be here because Y/n invited me.”

“No. It’s got to be more than that. Everything you have ever done in your life alludes to you doing something colossal! You would never do anything out of the kindness of your hearts!” The Doctor pointed her finger accusingly before slamming her hand down on the table.

The Master took a deep breath in order to calm himself down after withstanding to The Doctor’s tirade. He wanted to explode on The Doctor; to pull out his TCE and shoot his best enemy in each one of her hearts, but he wouldn’t ruin your Christmas like that. The Master took another deep breath before responding.

“As I stated before, Doctor, if you ever listen, I am here because Y/n invited me. And I didn’t want to disappoint them on Christmas. I’ve heard that holidays during this season of the year are fairly important in Human culture.”

An awkward silence fell over the table. The Doctor was glaring at her companions to back her up for support, but they remained silent. Even though they had been hurt by The Master in the past, and they were currently sceptical of him, but it was Christmas. They just wanted to have a calm and loving holiday season with their friends and families. The Master hung his head low and was wishing for your swift return.

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You initially left the freakishly silent table to just have a breath alone, just in case the tears you were fighting won the battle. You spun around your living room, looking for where you had placed your tissues, and then you caught a glimpse of your Christmas tree, which had many presents beneath it. You grabbed the lot and returned to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to open them now. I just wanted to give them to you before I forgot. Not to mention that this might defuse some of the tension.”

You handed each person their presents. The Master did a double take when you initially handed him his present. He didn’t think that he would be included in the majority of the holiday festivities, let alone this one. He held the present carefully, delicately in his lap. He couldn’t stop staring at it as if it were his most prized possession.

The Doctor almost instantaneously seemed to forget her anger towards The Master and immediately opened her present, which didn’t surprise you. But you breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing The Doctor return to her usual childlike self.

“Oh! It’s present time! Amazing. I’ll get my gifts for everyone! Do you want me to get yours, Yaz?” Dan jovially questioned.

“I’ll get mine and The Doctor’s. Ryan? Graham? What about you two?” Yaz responded.

“I’ll get the presents from the both of us, son.” Graham sounded as he joined in the present retrieving.

Once everyone exchanged presents, Graham and Yaz thanked you and tucked their presents away to open up once they got home. You did similarly to them and put your presents under your chair for later. Ryan and Dan, however, followed The Doctor’s lead and opened their presents as soon as their hands were on them, Ryan more rambunctiously so. The Master just continued to stare down at his present in disbelief. He couldn’t remember the last time someone gifted him something. The Master was going to refuse the present and give it back to you because he didn’t deserve it, but then Dan gave a raucous cheer upon opening Graham’s present to him. It was a brand new and expensive wok.

“Y/n relayed your handiwork with a wok.” Graham said, causing Dan to chuckle in response. But unfortunately, silence quickly returned to the table once the gift exchange was over. To your surprise, The Master was the first to speak up.

“I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to give any of you. I’m not particularly knowledgeable about Christmas and its specific traditions, or any holidays around this time of the year really.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Master. I’m just happy that you’re here with all of us.” You smiled at him genuinely.

“Yeah, you not leaving us on a crashing plane is present enough.”

“Graham!”

“I’m sorry. I-”

“There’s no need to apologise. I haven’t exactly been a joy to be around for the majority of you. So, I’m not going to be petty about just retaliation.” The Master spoke sullenly, and it broke your heart. Yes, he hurt The Fam and The Doctor and threatened them, but you could see that he was trying. You just wished that your friends could see that, too. You laid a hopefully reassuring hand on The Master’s shoulder, but then you felt him tense beneath you and saw that all of your friends gave you pointed looks. So, you removed your hand.

Dan then coughed awkwardly. He didn’t know much about The Master’s antics, mostly just what Yaz had told him, and he just wanted to have a good day with his friends. Despite The Doctor’s trepidation and Yaz’s ice-cold stare, Dan saw The Master as a friend because The Master was a friend of yours. Dan also noticed all the trouble you were putting into the event, and he just wanted to try and help you in cheering everyone up.

“I brought some homemade cookies from my parents and some crackers, too.”

“May I join in this festivity?” The Master asked politely as Dan retrieved a tin of cookies for the table.

“Of course, mate. They’re for everyone.” Dan clapped The Master on the back. You gave The Master a look to not comment and thankfully he just enjoyed the cookies while Dan and Yaz began handing out some Christmas crackers.

Maybe it was the presents or maybe the crackers, or even the cookies, or maybe it was just Dan being friendly and nice as always that helped lighten the general mood of the room. All of you ended up talking about fun things and laughing at random stories. Everyone even enjoyed the stories The Master told. And there was no talk of the bad things that The Master had done in the past, only the fun and funny things.

Yaz and Ryan opened a couple of bottles of wine, everyone pulled some Christmas crackers. You exchanged prizes and paper crowns and all of you seemed to be thoroughly enjoying yourselves. Everyone in attendance had wide smiles and full stomachs and so many presents and knickknacks to take home. But unfortunately, the day had to end.

“Despite the … surprises … I had a brilliant time! Absolutely brilliant.” The Doctor said before giving you a ‘goodbye’ hug.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“I can’t wait to do this next year!” Ryan excitedly shouted.

“Well, I don’t know about that …” The Doctor muttered softly, but you and The Master both heard.

“Oh, come on, Doc, you just said that you had a good time.” Graham countered as your friends clambered into the TARDIS and said their final goodbyes. The Master, though, hung behind in your apartment for a moment to have a quiet conversation alone with you.

“Thank you for inviting me. You obviously didn’t have to. But I very much appreciate it.” The Master handed you the present you have given him.

“Do you not want it?” You were hurt. You put so much effort into the day and the present. You wanted him to enjoy it and to see how much you cared for him.

“Of course I want it. I just don’t deserve it, Y/n.” You sighed at The Master’s self-deprecation. Thankfully he wasn’t rejecting you, but you hated seeing him this sad. That was part of the point of the present, to cheer The Master up during the holiday season.

“Just take it, Master, please. It’s Christmas.” You forced the present back into The Master’s hands and then tackled him into a hug.

“And take care of yourself, Master.” You kissed The Master's cheek and with that, the two of you said your goodbyes for the day.

The Master walked away from your flat bittersweetly. He didn’t know how to process the event that just occurred to him. He felt like he experienced a fever dream of a day filled with his wildest dreams and his deepest fears. And he still had a present to open, so the turmoil of emotions he experienced today were likely not finished turning in his brain.

When he arrived in his TARDIS, The Master brought your present out of his bigger-on-the-inside pocket and stared at it again. You were too sweet for your own good. First, you invited him to join you in your Christmas celebrations, then you got him a gift. Unbelievable! It was as if you were begging for The Master to become obsessed with you.

The Master carefully untied the purple bow and carefully unwrapped the wrapping paper in an attempt to not rip it. The Master wouldn’t describe himself as a hoarder, even though other people had, but he wanted to keep every part of this gift to remember it, and your effort and kindness, properly.

You got him a couple of sets of purple and orange socks. He smiled at this. You noticed his proclivity for statement socks. He took one pair out of the box and observed how heavy it was, not like any pair of socks he had before. He wondered if these were some new Human inventions, weighted socks, maybe made for anxiety havers. The Master then looked inside the socks and saw that there was an item inside them. Before discovering what you had hidden inside the pair of socks he first held, he looked into the other pairs you had given him and, like the first pair, you had hidden more gifts in those socks.

Upon unrolling each pair of socks, The Master found that you had also gifted him a pair of expensive-looking cufflinks, a quaint key chain with a Spotify code of one of his favourite Human songs, “Rasputin”, and a small rubber ducky wearing an “I raided Area 51” shirt. He rolled his eyes at the last gift. He never should have told you that he was actually responsible for that “meme”. Under all of the socks was an illustrated copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. If the socks were anything to go by, you hid something in the book. And The Master was correct. In the section where Dorothy’s house flies up into the air because of the tornado, The Master found a letter addressed to him.

Just like the box, he opened the letter with care. In your handwriting, written by a purple inked pen, you wrote:

Master,

I never want to intrude when it comes to you and your personal space and needs, but I want you to know that you are always welcome at my flat and in my life. I’m not going to judge you or pressure you or rat you out to The Doctor in any way. I just want you to have someone, and I hope that I could be that someone for you.

I know that things are complicated because of your long history with The Doctor and, more recently, everything revolving around the Kasaavin and Gallifrey. But I have really appreciated all of our communications with each other. I actually felt seen and heard by you, and I hope I made you feel the same way. Maybe I could one day get everyone else to see the softer, more caring and more protective side of yourself that you so often hide. You probably wouldn’t like that, though. But thank you for allowing me to see that side of you. I really do love talking with you, and I appreciate everything you have done for me.

I hope to see you again, preferably in a non-threatening environment. :)

Happy Holidays

Y/n

The Master sighed deeply trying to hold back his tears, but apparently, his emotions won over his resolve. The Master burst into tears. Emotions from decades and centuries that he had pushed down now rose up and flowed through him; his loneliness and isolation all becoming painfully aware to him as he read your letter. You really were the only person he had at this moment, maybe in his entire life. The Master would have to prove his worth to you properly. Get you a coat like his, at the very least.

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You stumbled out of your room, still dizzy from sleep, to answer your door. An incessant knocking woke you up from where you had fallen asleep while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Despite being incredibly drained from the anxiety of the day, you tried to cheer yourself up with some Christmas spirit. You grew incredibly annoyed, however, when there was no one behind your front door. You looked around; no one was down the hall, no one left anything for you, not even a note on the door!

You shut your door, disgruntled, but made your way back to your room. You stopped suddenly in your path, though, upon seeing something previously not there out of the corner of your eye. Under your Christmas tree sat a square, purple box tied up securely in gold ribbon.

You strode up to the box and investigated it curiously. It looked safe, but you were still cautious. Before opening the box, you opened the letter, addressed to you, which was placed on top.

My Darling Y/n,

If I had more time to plan, I would gift you something more sufficient in order to repay you for your overly caring nature. Though, I hope that this will make do for the time being. You may find some extra goodies hidden throughout, but I intend to spoil you greatly with many more gifts in the future.

With love,

Your caring Master

Of course, it was The Master! You smiled from ear to ear both because he got you a gift and because he reciprocated your feelings, but also because he opened your present and enjoyed Christmas dinner.

You carefully, but quickly and excitedly, opened the present The Master had given you. To your wonderment, The Master had gifted you either his purple coat or a coat that looked incredibly similar. You quickly threw the beautifully crafted coat around you, and it instantly warmed you.

You couldn’t help yourself; you were so excited that you had to jump up and down and squeal in pure joy. You then skipped to your full-body mirror and snapped a photo of yourself modelling your Christmas gift.

You sent the picture to The Master, along with the text: ‘I look quite dashing, doncha think? ;)’

The Master instantly peered down at his Human phone, which he kept in order to communicate with you, as soon as he received your message. He smirked and then sent back a reply.

‘Incredibly so! Dare I say, dashing enough to conquer the Universe?’

‘I wouldn’t go that far. I was thinking more of a sexy stranger at a cosy bar…’ You removed your sleep shirt before putting the coat back on, revealing a good portion of your chest. You also moved to take the picture in your bathroom mirror instead in order to hide your Christmas pyjama pants.

‘You absolutely fit that role to a T, love! I hope to see you in that environment and in that coat in the future.’

‘Oh, you will, Master.’

‘Good. ;) Now be a good little Human and get to bed. It might be Christmas, but you must go to bed at a reasonable time.’ You rolled your eyes at his protective nature, but you knew that he was right.

‘Only if you get a good night’s sleep, too, Master.’

‘That coat must have given you my talent for finagling and manipulation, love.’

‘Nope! That was all you!’

‘The Doctor would be horrified’

‘Let her be.’ The Master genuinely smiled down at his phone and the conversation he was having with you. You were so special to him. He didn’t need gifts or Christmas dinner or flirty texts, even, The Master just needed you in his life. You were the best Christmas present The Master could have asked for.

‘Happy Christmas, Y/n!’

‘Happy Christmas, Master!’

#ghost's posts #my writing #fanfiction #x reader #@sessa23 #doctor who #doctor who x reader #the master #the master x reader #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #christmas fic

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ilyasorokinn · 1 year

Text

taylor's very merry christmas series

welcome back to another christmas series! this series, unlike last years, will only go on for 12 days. it will start on the 14th as opposed to it going on all december.

these are probably going to be short because i can’t write long things lol so they’re probably very short. hope you enjoy it :)

a new fic will drop every day from the 14th all the way to the 25th. a few of these will be dad fics. i will make it known in the description below, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read it.

day one (december 14): something blue (nico hischier)

one of the stories nico learned about y/n early on was the story of the lost ring. it was a ring given to y/n when she was 17, but during a move, it was lost. so, nico decides to track it down and give it to her for chirstmas.

day two (december 15): christmas pup (nick blankenburg)

nick knows the only thing y/n wants is a dog, so he decides to surprise her with a dog for christmas.

day three (december 16): disney getaway (freddie andersen)

due to freddie being injured, he was given time off, so what does one do with time off? go on vacation. and where did alma and elias decide they wanted to go for their christmas getaway? disneyland. (part of the "andersen adventures" series)

day four (december 17): not so alone (sidney crosby)

y/n and sid are staying in pittsburgh for christmas this year, with their families coming out to visit instead. y/n heard through the grapevine that some of the guys weren’t going home, so she decided to welcome them over so they weren’t so alone.

day five (december 18): pictures with santa (jamie drysdale)

after seeing kids taking pictures with santa, y/n brings up the idea of taking a family picture with santa. so, y/n and jamie take their little family of dogs to take pictures with santa.

day six (december 19): bee's on ice (joel farabee)

the flyers are hosting a family skate for all their families, players, staff, etc. when joel first heard about it, he was immediately ordering lincoln a pair of skates. so to say he was excited was an understatement. (part of "the four bees" series)

day seven (december 20): coming home for christmas (pyotr kochetkov)

y/n and pyotr were on opposite sides of the country and when pyotr heard y/n couldn’t get a flight home, he was heartbroken. what he didn’t know was his teammates had secretly gotten y/n a ticket home and planned to surprise him and she was, in fact, coming home.

day eight (december 21): perfect time (artturi lehkonen)

artturi had been planning on proposing for months, but could never find the right time. that perfect time finally presents itself when they're both covered in snow.

day nine (december 22): the tree party (colton parayko)

picking out a christmas tree was always a ceremonious day for the parayko family. and this year, they had a new addition, winnie, so that made the whole thing all the more special. (part of "the parayko posse")

day ten (december 23): beans, chicken, corn, and leafs? (william nylander)

when y/n hears about a homeless shelter serving food a couple of days before christmas, she immediately signs up. when will hears she signed up, he signs up. and gets practically the entire leafs roster (plus their partners) to sign up.

day eleven (december 24): under the mistletoe (tyson jost)

for years, people have watched y/n and tyson dance around their feelings until they finally have enough. at the annual avs christmas party, the guys put a plan in motion to finally get them to finally admit their feelings for each other. and of course, mistletoe is involved.

day twelve (december 25): lit up like a kid on christmas (quinn hughes)

all the hughes come home for christmas, and christmas with the hughes family is always a blast. (part of "the hughes gang" series)

there, once again, is no taglist, but each of these pieces will drop at 12pm pst, so keep an eye out for that. the taglist in the fics is my regular taglist for my regular writing.

tagging some friends: @2manytabsopen @kolsmikaelson @miracleonice87 @boqvistsbabe @fallinallincurls @typical-simplelove @senditcolton @rosesvioletshardy @iwantahockeyhimbo @jostystyles @islesnucks @raysofcrosby @laurenairay @sydnikov @nylwnder @alextturcotte @quietblues @youngbeezer @fiveminutesforfarabee @lam-ila @sebbyaho @drei-mrssvechii @lucasraymonds @sorryjustafangirl @boeswhore @hugheshugs @bitchinbarzal @harlowhockeystick @oleksiak-pettersson (sorry if i missed you)

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl series #nhl #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey series #hockey #taylor's very merry christmas series!

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typical-simplelove · 1 year

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Christmas Isn't Christmas -> Tyson Jost

Author's Note: Happy Holidays, everyone! Unlike last year, I won't be doing a strict 12 Days of December/Holiday series because I've just been really out of it recently, but I have this one! This one is both a holiday fic and a trade fic. Ultimately, though, I hope that you and your families have a lovely holiday season, regardless of what holiday you celebrate. I'm sending prayers and love to all of you!

Word Count: implied!female reader; reader celebrates Christmas (but it's a semi-undertone); heartbreak; pain; sadness; Tyson's trade to Buffalo

Word Count: 2.3k

“So, Buffalo?”

He nods. There wasn’t anything else left to say. There wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway. It was Buffalo or permanent retirement. “They have a good young core.”

“But they’re losing,” you point out.

“When you’re young, don’t have a lot of experience, and the other teams are more experienced and bigger, then you’re going to be losing,” Tyson defends his new team. “I really think I can find my role and footing in Buffalo.”

“It’s going to be cold.”

“It’s cold here, too.”

“Where does that leave us, Tyson?”

He just looks at you, fear and sadness in his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Growing up with Tyson, you knew he was the best person you’ve ever met in your entire life. He had this smile, this laugh, this presence, and this persona that made every cell in your body light up. The neurons in your body loved to transmit messages about him. He was the air that made you breathe.

But then you moved to Minnesota for school and work, and Tyson went to Colorado, and things just stopped there. Tyson was still the essence of your life, and the feelings you had for him never left, but there wasn’t much either of you could do when you were both at opposite ends of the country.

Then, in the biggest heartbreak of Tyson’s career, he was traded to Minnesota, closer to you. As upset as you knew Tyson was, you were deep down happy. Tyson, your best friend, the light (and love) of your life was just a ten-minute drive, without traffic. He was right there.

And then, he kissed you. He kissed you as if his life depended on it—because it did. He kissed you like he probably should have back in high school. He kissed you like he should have when you were both home for the summers during your college years. He kissed you like he should have when you visited Denver. Tyson put all the emotion from the past twenty years of his life into one kiss, and it made all the difference. There were no more hidden emotions. There were no more longing touches between hugs and passing cups. It was all out there, and finally, it seemed, the universe wanted to let you and Tyson love each other not in secret.

That was a lie. One month later, Tyson’s moving to Buffalo.

“You don’t have to move to Buffalo,” Tyson says. He’s quick to add, “do it for yourself, not for me.”

“What if I want to move to Buffalo?” At this moment, you really only wanted to be with Tyson. If he were traded to a team on Pluto, you’d be joining him. Wherever he went, you wanted to go.

“Make sure it’s what you want and not what you’re doing because I’m going there.”

How are you supposed to tell Tyson that the reason you continued to breathe was because of him? He was the entire essence of your soul, the source of life. But, he wasn’t going to take that. You knew what he was heavily implying.

Tyson didn’t want you to go to Buffalo because he didn’t want you to be chasing a life that wasn’t fully yours. He didn’t want you to hate your life and the choices you made because of him. He wanted you to live the best life possible, and if that was without him, then it would be that way.

You didn’t have to say it out loud. You both knew that you were staying in Minnesota. It was easier this way, you both silently told yourself. It would be easier to pretend that it would be easier to pretend the last month happened than to try to do long-distance or start over in a new city.

Well, Tyson thought that. You wanted to follow him, but you knew it would hurt Tyson for you to follow him.

“Does this means we’re breaking up?” you ask, your voice cracking. Tyson immediately pulls you into a hug and holds you close.

“No,” he murmurs into the top of your head. “It’s a ‘we’ll always love each other, and when we’re in the same place, I’ll show you just how much I love you, but we can’t be apart from each other and show the same love.’”

It didn’t make sense. How could you both love each other so much but not be able to be together? The point of loving someone the way you loved Tyson and vice versa was so that you could both be there with each other and for each other.

You knew, though, that this was the only way. There was no other version of this story that ends with you and Tyson happily together. It could only be this way.

“I’m not going to stop thinking about you,” you tell him.

Tyson snorts. “If you think I ever stop thinking about you—even when we’re six inches away from each other—then you’re ridiculous. You will forever be the first and last thought on my mind. You will forever be the reason why I wake up in the morning. You will always be the reason why I work to be one of the best at what I do. You are the reason why everything makes sense, even if we aren’t together.”

“Even if you find someone else?”

That was the whole point, right? Letting each other go this way was better because it would hurt too much to have an actual breakup because long-distance didn’t work or moving to a different city together wouldn’t work. Letting each other go right now and still hopelessly and ridiculously in love meant that all the good memories would be good and happy and positive memories.

But it also meant that you were opening up your heart to love someone else, to spend your life with someone else, and to grow in love with someone else. It meant that Tyson might end up spending the rest of his life with someone else who wasn’t you.

Even if you both know that it’d be impossible to find someone who means what you mean to each other.

“Yes,” Tyson says, assertive. Although it breaks your heart to hear, you’re glad he said it the way he did. If he had any shred of doubt, then you know you’d be on the next flight out, and you couldn’t do that. It just wouldn’t end well for either of you. “But you have to open your heart, too, okay?”

You nod, not wanting to tell him that it’s only ever been Tyson and it’ll only ever be him.

Tyson kisses you for the last time, right there. It was the only way to do it. It was the only way to ensure that your hearts remained intact.

. . .

As American Thanksgiving came and went, your heart shattered a little more each day. You both had plans to celebrate and make a big dinner together. That didn’t end up happening. You opted just to donate all the food you bought to a local shelter and had a frozen pizza for dinner. What was the point of celebrating something that meant so much to you and Tyson?

As the days got closer and closer to Christmas, your heart was still breaking, but seeing the multi-weekly social media content of Tyson on the Sabres’ Instagram healed your heart just a little bit. It felt refreshing to see that he was doing so well and that he was so happy.

Tyson still texted you each morning and night. He still texted you before and after practice. He still texted you, asking what you were watching that night. He asked what you were eating, what you were reading, what you were wearing, and what you were doing. You did the same.

Tyson still texted you and told you that he loves you.

It was never over the phone; that would hurt too much for the both of you.

If you thought about it long enough, you’d get to the conclusion that the constant communication with Tyson probably wasn’t the best idea. You could probably heal and feel better if you stopped the constant communication, but how could you? How could you start to feel better about Tyson being gone when talking to him was the one thing that made you feel better?

It was a twisted explanation, but ultimately, you couldn’t stop communication. The minute you stopped talking to Tyson was the day you died.

. . .

As the days inched closer and closer to Christmas, your coworkers were filled with immense holiday spirit. You tried, You wore red and green. You put up a Christmas tree, and you placed light all across your apartment. You listened to Christmas music, but it wasn’t enough to make you feel better.

The questions about your holiday plans didn’t help either.

Are you traveling home for Christmas? No. Tyson was your home, and he was in Buffalo, and you couldn’t go to Buffalo because then you weren’t going to go back to Minnesota.

Do you have any family in the area? Are they visiting? No. Your family isn’t nearby. Tyson isn’t nearby, and he can’t visit. It just doesn’t make sense.

Are you traveling to visit any family? No. You couldn’t possibly go to see Tyson and then expect to return to New York.

That question was repeating in your mind. What was stopping you from going to Buffalo? Sure, it would hurt, but it would do you so much good, right?

As you kept thinking about visiting Tyson for Christmas, the more it consumed your mind. Whatever you were doing now wasn’t working, and you needed to see Tyson. You needed to see him more than on your Instagram feed.

Maybe going to Buffalo and seeing Tyson would be the one thing that would help you let him go. Maybe it would help you heal and move on.

Without thinking, you booked a flight to Buffalo.

Maybe this would help you move on with your life.

. . .

After getting his address from his mom, you take a taxi to Tyson’s apartment. It had to be a surprise because you know that if you told him you were visiting, he’d talk you out of it, and you don’t blame him. After being able to spend three days together and get a glimpse at what your lives could be like, it would be too painful for you to leave. It would ruin you both.

He opens the door within two seconds after you knock.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he whispers. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he pinches himself. When he winces, you can’t help but burst into laughter.

“What was that for?” you say, amidst giggles, the ice is finally broken.

“I just wanted to make sure you were actually here and that I wasn’t dreaming,” Tyson says, grabbing your bad and ushering you into his apartment. “How long are you here?”

“I leave the twenty-sixth,” you say. “It works better with your schedule.” And my heart.

With the knowing look he gives you, Tyson knows the part unsaid. It would break his heart as much as yours.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to come, but I couldn’t spend the holidays without you, Tys,” you say. “If you want me to leave, I—”

“Don’t leave,” Tyson pleads. “And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t want you around. I always want you around, and I wish you visited sooner, but—”

It would be too hard to say goodbye.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Never,” Tyson says, firmly. He takes two strides towards you and pulls you in with a kiss. It’s the scariest and fullest kiss you’ve ever had. With a single kiss, it’s like your entire heart is healed. There is no more pain or hardship or sorrow or loss; you’re healed. But now that you’ve kissed him again, you know that it’s going to be the most painful goodbye you’ve ever had.

“Please never let me go,” Tyson whispers, needy, against your lips.

“I won’t,” you promise. It’s the most heartbreaking promise you’ve ever made, yet it finally feels like the holidays and Christmas.

You’ve found your Christmas spirit.

. . .

As the next two days pass by, they show you what life could be like if you lived in Buffalo with Tyson. Every moment of your life was leading up to these two days—the best two days of your life.

Your flight home leaves in six hours, and Tyson is set to drive you to the airport. Currently, you’re sitting on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with your arms wound tightly around his body. Tyson's head is resting on the crook where your shoulder meets your neck; his arms, too, are tight around your body. You and Tyson keep pulling and squeezing the other closer. You have to get closer to each other. That minute, nonexistent space between you two is too much.

How are you supposed to go home and continue your life? How is Tyson supposed to go to practice tomorrow and be okay? The minute you walk through security, your lives will fall apart.

“Hey, are you awake?” Tyson asks, murmuring into your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Move to Buffalo?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply, everything suddenly making sense.

Later that evening, you rescheduled your flight for after the New Year. You need some more time with Tyson before you left and moved everything to Buffalo from Minnesota.

Wherever Tyson goes, you go. You’re not sure why either of you thought it would ever be any other way.

Taglist: @sorryjustafangirl @ilyasorokinn @kolsmikaelson @shinyfalcon4 @jostystyles @besthockeyfics @fallinallincurls @cinnamoncowboy @ch-ristiane @owenpowerstapejob @barzyblogbabe @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby @drei-mrssvechii @rosesvioletshardy @laurenairay @jamiedryssdale @assmanselke @lam-ila @2manytabsopen @corneliaskates @robindrake13 @boqvistsbabe @beccaiscold (Join the taglist here!)

#tyson jost #claudia writes #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl writing #hockey writing #hockey #op: 2022

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year

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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.

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