Stuff I Like Damnit (NSFW, 18+)

Old enough to know better, too old to give a shit.🤷‍♀️

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Ten.

The second of the double update, besties :)

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 3,839

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI!

The beautiful, pale-yellow homestead bordered on the edge of a lake, a thick of tall trees lining the perimeter of the property, offering a vast expanse of much needed shade from the scorching summer sun.  

With his driving licence arriving via post the morning before, he’d asked Erika if he could drop her at work and then use her car to get to his mother’s house, else resort to taking the two trains required to reach Västerås, where Agneta now resided.  

He knew it was because of him, that she’d left Solna, the stigma of her son’s crime haunting her every waking moment. After moving initially to the suburbs, she had met Sigurd a year after Lucas’s incarceration, initially moving in with him to a house they now gained their income from as an Airbnb rental.  

The house they now resided in they had built themselves, Lucas pulling into the driveway and seeing his mother’s taste all around. From the white roses growing plentifully to the macrame hangings adorning the porch, it screamed Agneta.  

Getting out of the car, it was from behind one of those plentiful rose bushes that a head popped up, a bald man with wire framed glasses rising to his feet. 

“Ahh, can I help you, young man?” he asked, dusting soil from his hands as he walked around to greet him upon the gravelled drive. 

“Yeah, I’m here to see my mom. You must be Sigurd, right?” 

Surprise hit the elder man squarely in the chest. “My! You’re certainly different to how you look in your photos!” he began, his quiet tone and jovial nature setting Lucas at ease. “And yes, I am Sigurd. Pleased to finally meet you, Lucas.” They shook hands, Sigurd pointing towards the house. “Your mother is expecting you, just go up and knock. I will leave you both to it a while.” 

Alighting the steps to the side of the porch, he walked towards the door, gently tapping the frame of the screen door. His heart hammered while he waited, the inner door finally opening, Agneta reaching to push the screen door. She looked on at him in something close to bewilderment for a few moments, her face suddenly crumpling as she sobbed.  

“Don’t cry, mom,” he spoke softly, Agneta’s tears only coming further as she held her arms wide, pulling him into a hug and breaking down completely. She hadn’t truly known how she would react at seeing her son for the first time since his trial. 

Just to view him in the flesh again had stirred her in a way she hadn’t expected. With him being out of sight for so long, it was almost as if a little reality had been removed for her. It also made it easier to distance herself as much as she could from her pain, the pain of losing her beautiful son.  

Agneta pulled back, her eyes scanning his face intently, studying every detail, every line that had shifted with the passage of time. He’d been a boy still, really, when he was taken from her. Now here stood before her a fully grown man.  

In turn, Lucas could see the years of worry etched into her soft, pretty features, yet there was undeniable relief mingled with the bittersweetness of their reunion. The weight of absence had lifted, albeit slowly, revealing the fragile remnants of their tested, tentative bond. 

“You... when I last saw you, you looked like me,” she sobbed, “and now you look just like your dad.” He let her cry it out as she held him closely once more and wept against his shoulder, his own eyes filling with tears as he hugged her gently. He felt her hand at the back of his head, stroking fondly over the shortly shaven hairs. “Your hair is gone.” 

“Never thought you’d see that, did you?” 

“No!” she cried, pulling away again as she dried her eyes. “The tantrum you threw when you were two and I took you for a haircut. Never bothered again after that!” Her hand continued to smooth over his head. “It suits you, though.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment, Agneta wiping his tears away with the back of her fingers. “Come on. Come in. I got you some of that Blue Mountain coffee you always liked. I have cake too, if you’re hungry?” 

“Thanks, and just a small piece would be great. I’m not really supposed to eat it. Doesn’t lend well to looking like this,” he explained, Agneta raising her eyebrows and cocking her head. 

“Literally can’t have your cake and eat it then, hmm?” He laughed at her assessment, following her through to the kitchen. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’d become a gym convert. The only lifting you did before was beer bottles to your mouth, my son.”  

True enough, he supposed. Taking a seat, he waited for it, for her to become frosty with him over something, knowing well how rapidly her demeanour could take a U turn. For that moment, though, it seemed all she wanted was to fuss over him, a stark contrast from their heated words month’s prior over the telephone.  

Placing a coffee in front of him, she paused a moment, her lips thinning into a slightly wobbly smile. “You look so well.” 

“Thanks, I feel it,” he replied, reaching to pick at the little flaw on the handle of the mug with his thumb. It was one of the same set she’d had for years, and that little detail always drew his focus. It sent a feeling of familiarity softly lapping through him. “How have you been, since we last spoke?” 

Placing down a plate with a small slice of carrot cake upon it before him, she took a seat opposite, putting her mug of tea down onto a wooden coaster. Yet more familiarity, since he remembered they were the ones he had made for her many years ago at school.  

He could make her a matching table now, since woodwork was something he’d chosen as one of his prison jobs, thriving on the machinations of measuring, cutting, sanding and hammering together to assemble something of use as well as ornament. 

“I’ve been okay, yes,” she began, “my back is getting worse, so I’m going to begin my hydrotherapy again.”  

Pointing out towards the door, he smiled. “There’s a perfectly good lake you can swim in out there,” he began, taking a bite of cake.  

She looked playfully aghast at his suggestion. “Swimming out there, at my age?” she cried, chuckling softly. “I’d give the tourists a heart attack!”  

“Only if you swam naked, mom.” Her glare had him in soft fits, Agneta muttering under her breath. “I bet it’s nice out there now it’s summer. Wouldn’t like to try so much in the winter.” 

She reached for him then, her eyes widening. “Alex, and the ice!” 

Oh, god. He’d forgotten all about that, him and his friend negotiating an ill-fated crossing over a frozen lake one winter, not realising that the ice wasn’t quite as thick and weight bearing on the opposite side from the one they’d ventured over from. Lucas had been rapid in his traversing the thin section, Alex not quite so lucky.  

“Two hours in front of my fireplace and he still shivered!” she laughed, her smile fond. “How is he? I haven’t seen him for so long.”  

“He’s great, yeah. Still a huge man whore who refuses to settle, but that’s Alex right to his damned bones,” he spoke, holding a hand over his mouth while finishing the last of his cake. “You spoke to him recently, didn’t you?” Feeling like they were tiptoeing around the lingering hostility that lurked beneath the surface, Lucas couldn’t deal with the discomfort of it any longer. 

Agneta nodded, sighing. “Briefly, I did. And you know why I did.” She paused, running a hand through her pale hair. “I didn’t want us to see one another again in a room full of people. Especially since our last conversation did not end so well.”  

“I’m still getting the band back together, mom,” he spoke, answering the silent question that lingered in her eyes. “It’s who I am, music is what I do.”  

She stiffened a little, but her face remained soft. “It took you on a path that I wish to god you’d never tread upon, though, my son.”  

He knew he had to be careful in how he worded his reply, lest spark her famously short fuse. “No, that was the drugs. And this.” Pointing to the inverted pentagram upon his inner elbow, he rested his arm back down to the table, picking up his coffee mug. “Soon to be covered. Not that I have an issue with the teachings I once subscribed to, but I want to be free of it all, y’know? That’s what I want to put behind me, not the career that had nothing to do with it.” 

He watched her carefully, her face crinkled in a frown, softening again, Agneta trying to see it from his point of view. “Drugs warped my mind beyond recognition and had a lasting effect upon me for the months that followed, too. It was only after I’d been free of them for many, many months that I began to see exactly what a hold they’d had on me.” 

“They made you a monster,” she choked, eyes filling with tears once again, Lucas reaching for her hand across the table. “But would you have found your way to them, had you been working any other job? I don’t think so.” 

“Mom, you can try and reason it away all you like, but it doesn’t change the fact, does it?” he spoke, his words calm and measured. “I could have been working in a fucking bar and still ended up on the same path. Music was never the catalyst. It was a mix of factors, y’know?”  

“The perfect storm,” she replied, her eyes sad. “One I hope never, ever crashes over your head again.” 

“It won’t,” he assured her, “because I’m clean, grown and in the best place I’ve been mentally in a long, long time.” 

“But I cannot see how it can’t, when you are putting yourself back in that environment. The drugs and excess, the parties, all of that.” While her argument was delivered with much more gentleness than he was used to, Lucas still felt irritated that she wasn’t listening to him.  

“You’ll have to trust me, won’t you?” he spoke, squeezing her hand before returning it to his cup. “And I think that’s where the issue is. You don’t trust fully that I’ve changed, do you?” 

There it was. The cold, hard truth of it. Agneta rested her forehead against the heel of her palm, frowning, swallowing hard. “No. I don’t. I just cannot see it, how you can come back from such darkness.” 

“Mom,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“No, please hear me out, Lucas,” she spoke, “please listen to me. When I say I cannot see it, it is because I haven’t seen it, I suppose. That part of our fracture is on me, never coming to see you, never witnessing this change in you myself with my own eyes. I was heartbroken for so long, and I still am now. I am so, so scared, that you putting yourself in that environment again is you going back to placing yourself in harm’s way. I suppose I will need to find the faith, though, to at least try and trust that you are a changed man.”  

It hurt him that she didn’t believe it, that she thought the choice of darkness was still an option to him. She was right though, when she’d stated she hadn’t been there to see the change in him.  

“So, you need time, is what you’re telling me?” 

“Yes.” Getting up, she moved around the table, wrapping him in a hug, her lips pressing kisses upon his head. “I still love you with all my heart, my son. We have a long way to go together, though, before we are rebuilt.”  

It was a clear indicator to him there, how people handled their feelings towards him so differently. With he and Jacob, they had found their old, familiar stride with one another immediately. Lucas saw how it was vastly different for Agneta, though, no matter how much it stung at his heart. 

She’d carried him, birthed him. She’d supported, loved and nurtured him for twenty-two years before he’d turned into somebody she didn’t recognise as her son. He had to factor that into the equation, too.  

Moving back to her seat, she smiled, reaching to gently prod his arm with her index finger. “Now, I hear there is a girl. Tell me about her.” 

He had to give her credit, witnessing how hard she was trying. He revealed everything about Erika, their years of written correspondence and phone calls before finally meeting in the flesh, her support of him, how she had made his world a happier place while he’d been incarcerated.  

“I’m going to see her later today, actually,” he began, pointing to his neck. “She’s adding to my collection.” 

“Oh, Christ,” Agneta signed, “not more! I know you love them, but please, my son. Not your neck!”  

“Sorry, mom,” he offered, “but it’s happening.” 

“Why must my children insist on vandalising themselves?” she cried, shaking her hands to the heavens above. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Svea only has two tattoos, though? And Ivar none at all, as far as I know.” 

“I mean all of the piercings!” Agneta exclaimed, shaking her head. “She’s like a sieve!” 

That was where she and Lucas differed vastly, him only ever having the small ring he wore in his right nostril. Svea had many in each ear, all adorned with dainty silver jewellery, both nostrils and her septum and an entire collection beneath her clothes.  

“How is my brother, by the way?” he then asked, sipping his coffee.  

“He’s fine, yes. Still wants nothing to do with you, though, I’m afraid,” she confirmed, Lucas nodding dejectedly. “I take it you haven’t tried to contact him?” 

“Nope,” he spoke, stretching his arms above his head. “I want to respect his wishes. I doubt he’ll ever come round now, but he knows where I am if he does.” 

“Actually, he doesn’t,” his mom pointed out. She was right, of course. “If he does ever ask, though, am I okay to pass your number onto him?” 

It wouldn’t ever happen, but Lucas okayed it all the same.  

After sitting talking for another hour or so, they were then joined by Sigurd, a smell of charcoal following him into the house. 

“I’ve put on the barbecue, going to do a chicken for lunch. Will you stay, Lucas?”  

He didn’t have to leave until 3pm, so gladly accepted the invitation. It was the perfect opportunity to get to know his stepfather, too. While standing out in the garden with him, enjoying a very cold, non-alcoholic beer, the first thing he learned about Sigurd was that he’d been sober for thirty-eight years.  

The catalyst to that sobriety had been an accident where he’d hit a telegraph pole, totalling his car but miraculously managing to escape the incident unscathed. It had given him the kind of pause to realise, even at twenty-five, that his reliance upon alcohol had become a problem. 

“After so long without, do you think you’ll partake again once your six months is up?” the elder man inquired, Lucas skimming a dandelion upon the lawn with his foot.  

“I will, yeah,” he replied, “I’ve missed it. Not so much the regularity of getting wasted, I think I’ve outgrown that. It’d be nice to just sit and enjoy a few beers with my girlfriend and suchlike, though.” 

Oh, he’d G-worded her. Without even thinking. He supposed she was, though, but as adults neither needed to come out and say it in as many words.  

“Your mother tells me you had a big problem with substances, also,” Sigurd began, lifting the barbecue lid to examine the charcoal. “I truly know little about your case. I don’t have the same fascination as most with scandal, so thus tend to steer myself away from the news.”  

“I did, but that’s something I can categorically say I’m leaving in the past, y’know? I’ve no interest in annihilation. I’m grown, I don’t need it, although she worries to the contrary.” 

Sigurd smiled kindly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “I know, Lucas. She told me.” 

“It’s hard to explain to her, when she hasn’t been around to see my growth while in prison,” he began, swigging his beer. “She thinks I’m putting myself in danger of a slippery slope by going back to my music, being in the same environment, yadda, yadda, yadda.” 

Agneta being hardheaded. Oh, he knew it well. “Your mother, she is very much the type of person who needs to see things to believe them.” Pointing behind them, he then touched a hand to Lucas’s shoulder.  

“See the fishpond over there? She couldn’t picture the space with anything other than raised beds that used to occupy it, which I moved to the side. Argued me to death over it for weeks until she saw it. “Oh, that’s actually lovely,” is what I got eventually. She cannot visualise so easily, my darling wife. Now you are free and she will see you, see your change, she will come around.”  

It hit him like a small bolt of lightning, just how right his stepfather was in his assessment. His mom always did have a problem with visualisation, imagining anything contrary to what her own mind conjured.  

“Time is what she needs,” Sigurd continued, “and while one might argue she’s had ample already, I mean time with you here, now she is ready. Over the years, she hasn’t really been ready, hence the fact you guys have been so strained.” 

Lucas nodded thoughtfully, understanding that trust and acceptance were not instantaneous gifts, but ones earned over time. “Here, take these and put the bird on. Those coals are perfect now.”  

With two sets of tongs, he lifted the spatchcocked chicken from the plate, Sigurd opening the barbecue ready for it to be laid upon the rack. As the smoky aroma of marinated chicken wafted through the garden, he felt a burgeoning appreciation for Sigurd’s wisdom and patience, qualities that had perhaps grown from years of clarity and sobriety.  

It was a reminder that change wasn’t just a destination but a continuous journey, one that Lucas was committed to navigating with the same resilience that had brought him this far. Just because he was out of prison did not mean his journey was at an end. He had paid for his crime, now he had to work on the damage it had done to those who loved him the most.  

He supposed he couldn’t really ask for more, if he was honest. Being able to sit across from his mother and have a conversation that hadn’t descended into chaos and shouting had been good enough, no matter the hurt that her lack of trust had left him with. He would, as ever, overcome it one day at a time. 

“I think you have the right attitude about it, knowing there’s trust work there that has to be done,” Erika spoke a few hours later, her and her marker pen aligning the proportions for the design upon his neck. Since she was doing most of it freehand and large amounts of it were dotwork, she hadn’t bothered with a stencil. “For you two to have a talk like that and not end up fighting was huge, though, honey! Don’t discount that.” 

“Yeah, that part was good. I suppose I just feel uncomfortable with it because it’s mixed in with my guilt for hurting her so badly in the first place,” he spoke, looking over to the door to see Nina and another blonde come in. “Oh, before I forget, Sigurd sent me back with a motherfucking tonne of fruit and vegetables, so take what you want from the bag in your car as I won’t eat it all.” 

“Cool, saves me having to go buy something to go with my chicken later!”  

Just then they were joined by the other women, Nina coming right over to lean around Erika and drop a kiss on Lucas’s cheek. 

“How you doing, big man? All ready for your pain?” 

“I’m good, and I’m one of those freaks that finds it soothing, getting tattooed. How are you?”  

“Not handling my own impending pain quite as much as you, mate,” she revealed, jerking her head in the direction on the other woman. “This one here is about to give me a really sore thigh.” 

Smiling, the second of the blondes waved. “Hi, Lucas. I’m Britt. I’ll try and be gentle with her for the sake of your ears, but just to forewarn, she’s shit at getting tattooed and will complain. Loudly.” 

Immediately she received an elbow to her arm. “Shaming me before we’ve even begun!” she huffed, taking an aggressive bite out of the apple she pulled from her bag.  

Her mild ire was met with a shrug. “You do that well enough all by yourself.” Sure enough, as soon as Britt had begun a short time later, the air was filled with swearing and gritting, Lucas sitting there without the slightest care in the world that he was having a needle dragged into his flesh.  

“Did you put on numbing cream and not tell me?” Erika asked, perplexed. Even the most hardened collectors of tattoos often had a little tick, some sort of reaction, especially in a delicate area like the neck. Lucas? Nothing. 

“You’d know if I had, wouldn’t you?” 

“Not if you’d applied it a few hours ago, but fresh applications I can always spot because the skin is too supple,” she revealed, reloading black ink. “You aren’t even twitching!”  

“Like I said, I find it soothing.” 

She snorted laughing, shaking her head. “My boyfriend is weird.” 

Oh, she’d B-worded him. Without even thinking. “I’ll scream if it makes you feel more comfortable?” 

His joke was met by more laughter. “No, thank you. I don’t think my eardrums could take it.”  

“Fucking wanky, bastard, bollocks!” 

Pointing at Nina, he grinned. “Ole’ Bennett over there is making enough noise for the both of us, I think.”  

“Shit off, you bloody show off!” she called, Lucas laughing. That was the last noise he made for a while, too, Erika realising from the couple of snores he let out that he’d actually fallen asleep.  

Out of the two things that had hurt him that day, the second was a pain he was much more adept at dealing with, it seemed. The one caused by his mom’s admission would, just like his fresh tattoo, heal in time, too.  

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

Next Chapter

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Nine.

I need the distraction from my life falling apart, so here, you guys get a double update to make up for my lack of posting. I hope you enjoy them :)

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 3,909

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI!

Before taking a seat at the table, Lucas quickly moved around it to talk with everyone, catching up, thanking them for coming. It had to be said, though, it was Jacob he enjoyed reconnecting with the most. 

“Tell me about your life now, I want to hear it all,” he requested, wondering if he was as quiet and concise as he’d always been. 

The tall, handsome blonde sipped his wine, placing the glass down. “I work as a rock-climbing instructor, married, two kids.”  

Yes, he certainly was. You had to practically drag information out of the man via a hook. It wasn’t because he was rude at all, merely introverted unless he was in company of people he’d known for a long time. Then, his head poked out of his shell just a little further. With many people he didn’t know well there, Lucas knew he’d probably remain somewhat concealed.  

“Tell me about them, your wife and kids,” he asked with interest. His answer was paused until the waitress had taken their food orders, but to his surprise, Jacob did offer further embellishment.  

“Ginika is the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” he began, his face lighting up to mention his wife. “She was sex trafficked here from Nigeria when she was fifteen. After escaping her captors, within five years she’d gone from the streets to getting her high school diploma, then to beauty school, too. She now owns her own hair salon. We’ve been together for ten years, married for eight. As for the kids, Magnus is five and Rayowa is three.” 

He then took out his phone and found a picture, turning it to show his stunning wife and two beautiful children. With a Swedish dad and a Nigerian mother, it certainly made for some beautiful blending of genes, the children fairly dark skinned but both with the most intense blue eyes. 

“How the hell did you get a knockout like her?” Lucas joked, bursting into laugher when Jacob gave him a discreet middle finger.  

“Charm. And I’ve got a nice ass, apparently,” he replied succinctly, taking his phone back. “Can’t bend over around the woman. She’s predatory.” 

Lucas raised an eyebrow, looking at Erika. “I have one of those, too.”  

It was true. He’d bent to grab his boots earlier and received her hand in a hard slap. Of course, he’d gotten her back immediately. 

“You gotta meet her, Lucas,” Alex spoke, sipping his beer. “She’s the fucking polar opposite of him. You hear Gin five minutes before she arrives.” 

Jacob laughed softly, scratching his goatee. “Yeah, she’s very loud. Very joyous. She’ll be here soon; Ray won’t go to bed for the babysitter.” 

Sure enough, the noise of a strangely blended Nigerian/Swedish accent became audible after a short time, a towering knockout of a woman entering the room.  

“I have arrived!”  

Oh, god yes. She was loud. “Hello, everyone, hello!” Waving around the table, her eyes scanned everyone. “You are Lucas, yes?” He didn’t even get chance to confirm. “Stand, give me a hug! Jacob says you were like a brother to him, so now you are my brother, too!”  

After that greeting, the storm that was Ginika continued. “You are Lucas's sister, yes?” she then directed to Svea, who confirmed. “I see it! You look like a little version of him in a wig!”  

“She means that as a compliment, Svea,” Jacob spoke, although she was laughing hard. “I think.” 

“You have beautiful hair, such gorgeous curls!” she continued at volume, seating herself beside her husband. “You need a new hairdresser? I am your woman. I give good discounts for friends!” Turning to Jacob, she continued. “You ordered me the steak, yes? And rare, yes?” 

“I did, babe.” 

“But with salad instead of fries? I have to lose a kilogram, I’m getting chubby.” 

He tsked, shaking his head. “Bullshit, you’re perfect.” Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles, Lucas noting how perfectly content he looked. It was lovely to see. 

While the guys fell into talk about the band, it was Gin who Erika found herself enjoying conversation with, the latter swapping seats with Alex so they could chatter beside one another.  

“Tell me, Erika. How has Lucas been since his release? Is he coping well with the outside world?”  

She made a shaky hand gesture. “Umhm, mostly. Don’t get me wrong, he’s enjoying his freedom. He’s been recognised more than I ever anticipated he would be, though. Especially with him looking so different. Stockholm is a big city, I did think he’d perhaps blend in a little more.” 

Gin finished her mouthful of food before replying, looking thoughtful. “The case was very famous; I remember it well although I doubt I could have personally picked him out of a crowd. How many times now, has he been recognised?” 

“Five,” Erika confirmed, thanking Jacob when he reached to top up her wine glass from across the table. “Four by appearance and once by his name.”  

“Five is not so bad, considering how many hundreds of people he must have encountered since his release if he has been out and about, I suppose,” Gin commented, cocking her head a little, her mane of silky curls gliding over her dark, shiny skin. “If we were in Nigeria, trust me, if he had not been hung for it, then he would likely have been chased out of the area by the locals with machetes by now.”  

Her eyes widened. “Oh ,my fuck.” 

“Yes indeed!” Gin enthused. “Life in Lagos was lawless, trust me. I might have been taken from there under false pretences, but I am happier here in Stockholm. Safer, too. I want to move my parents out here, but they will not leave. Anyway, anyway, back to you and Lucas. I must ask of you, but I do hope you will not take offense,” she began, suddenly looking over at her husband when he caught her eye.  

“Gin,” he warned, raising his eyebrows. 

“I will be respectful!” she assured him, waving an elegantly manicured hand. “He worries because at times, I have all the tact of a wrecking ball.” She paused, Erika laughing softly. She liked her already, but could certainly believe that assertion. “What it is that I wanted to ask is what drew you to contact Lucas in the first place? Alex mentioned to me that is how you both met, communications for some years while he was in prison.” 

“Well,” she began, clearing her throat and placing her knife and fork down upon her empty plate. “I had an interest in him pre-prison, being a fan of The Hanged. I then didn’t, for obvious reasons until I read an interview he did while he was still incarcerated.  

“The sincerity and remorse within him shone through so much that I felt compelled to reach out to him. I dunno, I felt like he deserved somebody to believe him, and I did.” 

Gin lifted her chin, viewing her admiringly. “It takes a strong mind and heart to see the person behind that kind of crime.” 

She smiled at the compliment, reaching beneath the table to rest her hand on his thigh while continuing her conversation. “I barely even saw the person back then, just the intention. It was the three years that followed where I really saw who Lucas was.” 

“And now you get the person. A very fascinating, unique way to become connected, I have to say.” Gin grinned. “When Alex broached with my husband to perhaps mend fences with Lucas, I was not so strong of mind or heart. I will be honest there. My life, it had been steeped in criminality in my youth, but even for someone such as I, what happened was shocking.  

“My husband and I sat together and discussed it, his feelings, my feelings, and then he showed me lots of footage of the band he once so loved. I saw it in him, the way his eyes filled with such love as he watched old footage of them on stage, of interviews, of their DVD from the world tour. I also saw Lucas as such a warm, kind, funny man. It shows just how much hard drugs can change a person, up here.” 

She paused then, pointing to the side of her head. “He said to me in the end that the brotherhood they had shared was worth a second chance, that he couldn’t hate him for it any longer. If he came out, went back to drugs and all of the darkness, then he could hate him, but he wanted to see whether the rehabilitation had worked.” Looking around Erika to where the three guys all laughed, sharing stories of times gone by, she pointed with a smile. “I think it has.” 

Erika felt a spark within, that other people saw so clearly what she did in him, too. “It has, you’re right. He isn’t that messed up young man any longer.” 

“Now,” Gin then broached, opening her hands towards her. “I would like to learn all about you. I work so hard that I seldom have time to make new friends, but I feel a kinship between us. You have a lovely essence.” 

Another little spark flared bright; this one borne of congeniality, meeting a person Erika felt would eventually become a good friend. While they enjoyed easy conversation, to their side Lucas, Alex and Jacob continued to reconnect as a three, naturally the subject of their still incarcerated fourth coming up. 

“I don’t know how I feel about Nils,” Jacob confessed, rubbing his neck with a look of trepidation. “I blame him still, for what happened with you.” 

As did many, many others. “Jacob, I wasn’t stupid. Out of my skull on drugs half the time, yes. I still had my own mind. I had a choice, and I chose wrongly.” 

“That’s the thing, though,” Jacob countered, tapping the table lightly before him with his index finger. “I would see you say no, tell him you needed to recover, and he would push.” He signed, his mouth thinning. “You don’t remember a lot of it, but me, never taking any other drug than occasionally smoking weed in my life, I saw it. I remember.” 

He witnessed it much too many times, Lucas retreated to his bunk on tour, and a freshly high Nils hassling him to go do a line or smoke a bowl of PCP with him. “We need it, brother. It is our sacrament to speak with him. He guides us through his messages when we are on this level. We have to receive his teachings.” 

The “he” Nils referred to was Satan, so convinced by that point that while high and subject to hallucinations borne of PCP that they were receiving messages and guidance from their dark lord.  

“He isn’t on that path any longer, so Alex tells me,” Lucas began, not wanting to discount Jacob’s feelings on it but equally, knowing that if he deserved a second chance, then so did Nils. “I’ve been given a chance at redemption, and he should be, too. Ultimately, though, I can’t and won’t tell you how to feel about it.”  

“I think I’ll need to see him again, be in his company,” Jacob spoke, gesturing towards him. “It was easier for you because I knew you better, before the band, even. It feels different with him.” 

Lucas could understand that. Jacob and Nils, while in the same band had never been particularly close. It was more of a workmates relationship they had, rather than a deeply bonded friendship.  

“You can count me in for getting the band back together, though,” he then revealed, the news exactly what both Alex and Lucas had been hoping for as they’d sat talking. “I’m in, just let me know when and where for jam sessions.” 

“Our place,” Alex spoke, nodding with enthusiasm. “The lounge is fucking massive, after all. Means we don’t have to think of hiring rehearsal space as yet either, save a bit of cash.” 

“You’ll have to bear with me,” Jacob then added, “because I haven’t picked up my guitar all too much over the past decade. I might be shit.” 

“You were never that good in the first place,” Alex joked, guffawing at the look and silently mouthed ‘fuck you’ he received from Jacob, Lucas booming at his side. “I’m kidding, god! You were the fucking best, pretty boy.” 

“At least you acknowledge that I’m pretty,” he smirked.  

“Still look like puberty bypassed you, man.” 

Jacob pointed at him, looking at Lucas. “This asshole, still such a fucking shit, huh?” 

“It’d feel weird if he wasn’t though, wouldn’t it?” 

Indeed, it would. It was the marker of Alex’s affection, though. If he liked you, he usually insulted you on a regular basis. 

The remainder of the night passed by in a whirl of happiness, merriment (all bar Lucas in his stipulated sobriety) and talk of both the past and the future to come, he and Erika walking back to the apartment hand in hand at midnight. Since Alex was going to meet with a girl who he enjoyed a casual hookup with every now and then, it was just them arriving back there.  

It was probably best, since he had his hands up Erika’s dress before they were even properly through the door.  

“Someone’s handsy,” she commented, finding herself steered against the hallway wall. 

“I can’t fucking drink, so I have to get my kicks where I can find ‘em.” His hand pushed into her underwear, a smile broadening his handsome face in an instant. “Found ‘em.”  

He certainly had, gently teasing her folds until he felt her slick for him. His mouth pressed against her neck, delicate kisses full of promise dropping like embers, fingers finally pushing within. They sank into the soft wet of her, his breath hitching, a hint of teeth sending a flay of sparks skittering over her nerves.  

“Take me to bed,” she purred, Lucas looking down at her with a smirk. 

“Think I’ll take you right here.”  

He sank to crouch before her, Erika shrinking a little after kicking off her shoes, her underwear slid down before he pushed her dress up to bunch at her waist. His mouth joined his fingers, delving into the velvet of her sex, eyes full of blue fire as he looked up at her, watching her enjoying him.  

His tongue moved her clit with the kind of intent that had her shuddering, the radiating warmth of it sun soaked as her walls clenched around his fingers. His other hand moved to clasp on her breast, fingers plucking at her nipple, the clothing covering it dulling the sensation somewhat until she undressed herself.  

Her hands moved to clutch at him, one at the back of his head, the other clasped upon his forearm as he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, little pinpricks of pleasure pooling and trickling down her spine. It wound quick and tightly within her, gasping hard as her hips began to rock against his mouth and fingers, keening for more pressure.  

Receiving it, she cried out, his mouth sucking hard upon her until a bolt hit her spine and rocketed up, making her brain fuzzy as she flooded his fingers. He’d have fucked her there and then, pushed his cock into her deeply and felt the aftershocks of her orgasm clasp around him, but his bedroom was where he chose. After all, no condoms resided in the hallway.  

He carried her over his shoulder to his room, depositing her on the bed with a soft thud. A joint effort had him stripped, Erika taking the condom from him and impressively rolling it over his cock with her mouth. A few sucks and she sent him mindless, Lucas pushing her back and sinking into her cunt with a softly gritted groan.  

There was no gentle build to his hunger for her, fucking her mightily from the start, rutting against her with sinful rolls of his hips, fixated on the way she stared up at him. That woman, fuck. He could easily fall hard for her. In fact, he knew he already had, but it felt too soon to tell her. 

The heat of his shaft dragged tight, her sopping, tender walls flexing around him, each deep thrust accompanied by a baritone groan of pure erotic want. Driving into her with burning ferocity, he bottomed out so deeply and furiously that Erika felt the tingles of another release on her rapidly, sensations skittering through her veins, his cock offering the perfect pressure to have her glimmering around him. 

She was reduced to a panting mess as her embers glowed, her dewy centre practically dripping around him as his hips snapped wildly, Lucas folding at the waist to kiss the little mewls that poured from her mouth like wine.  

He slowed then, mouth gilding her neck with heated kisses, the feel of him still hitting her deep, yet slow electrifying right to her very marrow. His pubic bone nudged against her clit with perfect precision, keeping her simmering, wild heat snapping between them.  

Pulling from her, he turned her onto her side, pushing her leg up until her knee bent at a right angle before plunging himself back inside her. It offered the kind of tightness that had them both blooming like spring flowers craning towards the light, the speed he added sending her mindless from the incredible power of his fuck.  

She whined, a throaty, almost pitiful little sound, surrendered to him entirely, shivers racing up her spine. One of his hands clenched on her thigh, the other weaving into her hair, closing at the roots, gentle pressure applied. The way he fucked her was rough, but how he held her there was softly dominant, and it was a mix no man before him had mastered with quite that level of finesse.  

Their moans poured in breathless tandem, their releases coiling around them and ascending like vines, the noise of him driving into her echoing lewdly through the room.  

She felt so full, hit at every depth from the thick of his cock, every contour of it scraping the soaked plush of her cunt as she began to constrict around him, hands gripping onto the bedclothes as she wailed in complete abandon. 

Her release charged swiftly and arrived rapidly, booming through her body like a seismic wave, bright colours illuminating behind her tightly closed eyelids, feeling his hands clutching at her hard as he gritted on the word fuck several times, spilling hot and thick within her fluttering walls.  

Pulling from her, he disposed of the condom before settling at her back, curling around her, her back the canvas he painted his affection in kisses, hands roaming her skin. They were silent for a while, basking in the afterglow, Lucas the first to speak.  

“Thank you again for tonight,” he murmured, Erika turning in his arms and tucking her head beneath his chin, weaving her long legs with his. “It was really restoring, to see all those people there who’ve supported me. Jacob especially. Fuck, he looks so well, so happy. Ginika is great, isn’t she?” 

She’d truly loved seeing him there in amongst his people. Her only regret was that according to Alex, his mother refused to attend. From what Erika had heard of Agneta thus far, anything her son had done aside, she seemed very much to be a “my way or the highway” type of personality. Her unwillingness hadn’t been a surprise at all.  

“Yeah, yeah I can see myself becoming friends with Gin. She’s such a remarkable woman, so fierce but with a sweetness there that’s really infectious. I didn’t realise either, how much older she is than Jacob, with how ageless she looks.” 

“How old is she?” he asked. 

“Forty-one.” Emerging from beneath his chin, it was at just the right moment to witness his jaw drop. 

“Fucking hell!” If he’d had to, he’d have placed her at around thirty-three, only two years older than Jacob opposed to the ten she actually was. “I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Jacob always had a thing for older women. She doesn’t look it, though.” 

“She doesn’t, you’re right.” Thinking on it a moment, she toyed with whether or not to broach the subject of Agneta, Lucas obviously seeing the indecision in her.  

“Why are you chewing your lip? You always do that when you’re mentally wrestling with something.” Just four months of spending an hour every other week with her, and four days free and he already knew her little tells. “Talk to me.” 

She sighed, propping her head on her hand. “I wish your mom would have come tonight. Alex extended an invite to her and Sigurd. Apparently, he was all for it, said he wanted to meet you, but your mom was reluctant.” 

Scratching his beard, he raised his eyebrows. “I know, baby. Svea told me. I was pleased that my stepdad I’ve never met sounded keen, but I get why mom wasn’t. I think the first time she sees me she’ll want it to be without an audience. I’ll text her tomorrow, see when I can head over.” 

“That sounds good. Did you think about maybe reaching out to Ivar?” 

He widened his eyes a fraction. “That door is firmly closed. He won’t even have my name mentioned in his house. Svea has been trying, in the weeks prior to my release, but he shut her down every time. I’m not pushing it with him. It’s up to him.” 

That was fair enough, she supposed. Sad but fair.  

They fell asleep not long after, Erika waking late and pulling on one of Lucas’s t shirts that drowned her, padding through the apartment. She found him in the kitchen, brewing coffee. 

“I missed that, seeing a cute chick in my clothes, looking even cuter for it,” he spoke, winding an arm around her shoulders as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Like the dead, it was great. I’m so glad I let myself have a Sunday off rather than taking on extra work,” she replied, smoothing her hand over his bare chest a few times.  

Opening the packet of coffee in front of him, he shook a plentiful amount into the top of the machine. He liked very much that Alex had a proper set up, the machine similar to the type used in coffee shops, only much smaller. “You work too hard, beautiful. I admire that about you, though. You’re definitely making a name for yourself, especially with the dotwork styles.” 

He’d spent a little time Googling her and reading what people thought of her work, smiling with a glow of pride to see so many people speak of her with such reverence. In her field, she was beginning to stand head and shoulders above many of her contemporaries. It explained well why her waiting list was currently at eleven months.  

Except for him, who she was squeezing in that coming Tuesday evening to begin the work he wanted on his neck.  

“Oh, I sent mom a message not long ago. She actually replied pretty quickly, told me she’s free Tuesday so I’m going over there in the morning.”  

Erika could only hope for the best, but just like Lucas himself, prepared for the worst. 

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Seven.

Big thanks to the little Sanctuary book club for your continued support :)

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 3,236

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI!

Stirring to the sound of birdsong, the sunlight of the early morning streaming in through the window, Lucas felt out of place for a few moments. Glass panes with no bars, a comfortable bed, no sounds of wardens or other inmates going about their morning. Plus, a beautiful woman by his side, still sleeping soundly.  

Freedom was truly sweet.  

“Hmm, mm.” Stirring, she stretched, turning over and rubbing her eyes a few times, beaming when she looked up at him. “Cool, it wasn’t a dream. You are really here.” 

He laughed quietly through his nose, wrapping an arm around her when she moved herself to rest her head on his chest. “Definitely not a dream, no. It’s still surreal, though, waking up in a bed with you next to me, no bars on the window, all of that.”  

It would likely take him some time to adjust to his freedom, Erika thought, her hand moving to begin stroking over the soft, dark blonde hair between his pecs. “It must be amazing for you, and I’m so happy you decided to stay. I’m not ready to let you go just yet.”  

She’d have to eventually, though, checking the time and seeing it was 5:54am. She had to get him to Alex’s by seven thirty before he left for work, then go and pick up everyone’s breakfast order before getting in at the shop. For then, though, they had time to lie there and bask in the quiet of the morning and the comfort of one another.  

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked after a few silent minutes, Lucas shifting. 

He smiled, moving atop her, mouth pressing a kiss between her breasts. “I do. Not food just yet though.” 

He sank beneath the sheet, Erika sighing softly at the sensation of his mouth connecting with her apex, more than happy to remain in bed a little while longer. Ahh, morning sex. She’d been looking forward to it with him very much, their session slow and heated, leaving them not much time to quickly shower and get ready. 

They made plans to see one another again that coming Saturday, Erika wanting to give him his space to get situated at Alex’s, visit with family and friends and begin getting his life back in order. Silently, she fizzed with excitement, though, since unbeknownst to him Saturday was when she and Alex had organised a small gathering for him.  

She’d booked a private room at a restaurant not far from his and Alex’s place, wanting him to be able to relax without worrying about being recognised by anyone. After seeing his tension the previous morning while they sat outside eating breakfast, she was glad of the seeming foresight she’d had there.  

“I think it’s just here, I need to drop you,” she spoke, pulling her car over to the side of a completely pedestrianised street next to the bollard barricade preventing vehicular access. “Okay, have a good day and I’ll see you on Saturday.” 

Leaning over, he gave her a kiss, smiling fondly. “Yeah, but I’ll call you later on. Have a good day, too. Hope it all goes alright with Nina.” 

God, she’d forgotten about the little crossed words event from the evening before, thanks to the utter bliss of her morning with him. “Yeah, me too! Bye, bye, big, sexy man.” 

He laughed softly at that, kissing her again before climbing out and retrieving his possessions. Alex had of course sent him his address, Lucas not overly familiar with the area of Östermalm. Reaching his destination, he was pleasantly surprised. 

“Man, this place is better than I was expecting.” he spoke quietly, taking in the exterior of Alex’s apartment for the first time, the contrast stark compared to the home he had once shared with him so long ago.  

Situated above an independent furniture store, it spanned the length of the first floor, accessible by a side door that took him directly up a set of stairs to a heavy, black wood door.  

Pressing the bell, it sounded loudly, a round light flashing. It was something called a Ring doorbell, attached to a camera feed, as he’d newly learned since Erika had one. Technology had certainly advanced well over the past twelve years. 

The door opened to reveal Alex, who somewhat tried at least to bite back his grin. “Morning.” 

Lucas could see it brewing in him, snorting with laughter. “Stop looking at me like that.” 

“What? I’m not looking at you in any way, man.” The mirth continued to rise in him, leaning against his doorframe. “Just wondering if Erika can stand up at all, the poor woman.” 

“She can,” Lucas confirmed, “but it’s on bowed legs.” 

They both erupted then, Alex opening his arms, giving him a big hug. “Well, I’m glad to hear you enjoyed the first day of freedom so much. Tell me, when’s the requiem for your girl’s vagina? I feel I should send flowers.”  

Oh, Alex and his hilarity. How he’d missed it, booming with laughter as he stepped inside. “This is a great place you’ve got yourself, bro. I really like it.”  

His eyes toured the surroundings, placing his bag and guitar case down, the hold all stuffed with possessions heavy even for him. It was all he had though, after twelve years, save the items his sister had kept for him in her garage and spare bedroom. 

“It’s way bigger than I expected, no offense or anything,” he spoke as they walked into the huge living room, Alex gesturing to the couches. 

“None taken. Look, I can’t be long as I have to leave for work, but I’ve got time for another coffee before I go, show you around, too? It’s basic, though. Kitchen is there, my room is next to it and yours is at the opposite end next to the bathroom. Svea dropped off your stuff, too, so you’re all set in there.” 

Agreeing, he leaned back against the soft, brown leather while Alex jumped up again, lighting a cigarette. “Still almost black and two sugars’, right?” 

“Yeah, thanks, man.”  

He returned in a flash, placing the two large stonewear mugs down either side of the table, just staring at him for a second. “Sorry, it’s surreal is all, seeing you sitting there. You look both out of place and like you never left, if that makes sense?”  

It did. It might have been a different apartment, but the couch was the same, the very one he’d spent so much time sat upon in his youth, his place of rest until he’d moved in with Alex properly and furnished himself with an actual bed.  

“Trust me, it felt surreal to wake up this morning and look out of a window with no bars on it,” he replied as Alex sat down again. 

He had no idea, only ever spending one night in a jail cell for being drunk and obnoxious, the officers throwing him in until he’d sobered up before releasing him the following morning. “Can’t say I can relate, but I can imagine. Must’ve felt amazing.”  

They chatted for a short time before Alex had to leave, heading across town to his job as an IT co-ordinator for a large printing company. While an office-based career was his idea of hell, he was allowed to wear his own casual clothes and had his own room away from the main floor where he ran all the computerised systems, from the printing machines themselves to the network of PC’s.  

Finishing his coffee, Lucas then moved from the lounge down to his room, entering the space to find it much larger than he’d expected. It was around eight times the size of his cell, the large windows offering an abundance of light through the off-white painted room.  

Looking to the side of the wardrobe, he smiled to see a large, framed poster from their first festival headline slot hung on the wall, Download festival in the UK. Fifteen years ago, and he remembered the day like it was yesterday. One day, he hoped to headline it again. 

Taking his clothes, he began putting things away before moving to the boxes dropped off by his sister. His entire life at twenty-two had been neatly condensed down to six large heavy duty plastic containers. A lot of things he’d instructed her to sell and keep the cash herself.  

Opening the first box, he saw his beloved record collection, smiling as he pulled out a few treasured volumes that had belonged to his father. Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Pink Floyd, he’d definitely inherited his early tastes straight from him. It was a pity he had no turntable to play them on, or so he thought.  

“Moomin, you adorable motherfucker.” he chuckled, opening another box to see a brand new one in there, along with a card from her and Karin.  

‘Welcome home, big brother! We thought you could use this, give all that vinyl a damned good airing! Love you, Svea & Karin xx’ 

Taking it out and placing it on the table in the corner, he got it set up, positioning the speakers at perfect vantage points and making a mental note to wall mount them at a later time. With the sound of Guns N’ Roses Appetite for Destruction as an accompaniment, he continued sorting through the boxes, finding the one that contained his many and varied old band t shirts.  

Holding one up, it seemed almost child sized compared to his current stature. Had he really been that skinny? “Yeah, these are all Erika’s now!”  

Two hours of work saw his room fully unpacked, Lucas making a mental note of a few things he needed, before realising he had an app for that on his phone. He then located the folder he needed in order to open a bank account, renew his driving licence and passport, pulling out his birth certificate and transferring it to the back pocket of his jeans.  

Transport agency, bank and then a few stores to buy the things he needed. His morning had a plan, Lucas grabbing the keys Alex had left on the coffee table for him and heading off to catch his first train.  

After queuing for ten minutes at the transport agency, he handed his paperwork across the desk along with the licence renewal fee, the woman studying it for a while curiously before looking back up at him over her glasses.  

“Are you him, the Lucas Borgström?” she asked, her face stony. Oh, lord. Already?  

He nodded. “I am, yes.” 

“Hmph. I see.” Scanning the paperwork, she checked his birth certificate, handing him a receipt for the cash paid. “Move to the side, mister Borgström, so I can take your photograph.” 

While the fact she had to remain professional obviously held her tongue, what she thought of him was etched all over her face. He felt the chill of her cold demeanour like a Siberian breeze. “Your new licence will arrive by post within the next ten days.”  

After that, another train was caught, this time over to the bank so he could set up an account.  

“You haven’t had an active bank account in twelve years,” the man he met with noted, filling in his details on the computer. “Why is that, sir?” 

“I was incarcerated,” he explained succinctly, waiting for a similar reaction to that of the woman at the transport agency.  

The man merely nodded, continuing to tap away at the keys before him. “Oh, okay. Well, there we are, you have one again now, mister Borgström. Your card will be with you in a couple of days. Is there anything else I can help you with this morning?”  

There wasn’t, Lucas thanking him for his time before leaving. Visting a few stores, he bought everything he needed, taking another train back home to unload and throw the new bedding he’d bought into the washing machine, leaving again to go and purchase some food. Where nutrition was concerned, he and Alex had vastly differing ideas over what constituted a good diet. For Lucas, that didn’t include an abundance of pork products, packet soups and noodle cups.  

It was mundane, but there was something quite satisfying about the task of simply walking around a supermarket to purchase food, lost to his own thoughts until he was aware of a set of eyes following him.  

Turning to the two middle aged woman staring at him across the aisle, he smiled, returning to browsing the shelves of dried goods. While he moved along, whispers followed.  

“It’s him, isn’t it?” one spoke to the other. “That’s the crazy Satanist guy who murdered that poor kid. I recognise his tattoos.”  

“I think so, yes,” the other verified, tutting. “And there he is, just living his life again. It’s shameful, how lenient our sentencing is. If we were in America, he’d be locked away for life, or on death row. As he deserves to be. Scumbag.” 

Her words caused a chill to prickle through his chest, but he didn’t say anything to either of them. To him, it was to be expected. After all, he was one of Sweden’s most notorious criminals, the coverage of the case huge and in the forefront of the media for a long time. It was natural that he would be remembered.  

It did surprise him, though, how easily he was recognised. Then again, the tattoos were a very distinguishable marker, no matter how physically different he now looked. Moving around the store at speed, he picked out the rest of what he needed before paying and heading home, the apartment luckily only a five-minute walk away.  

After unpacking everything, he made himself lunch and then sat down, contemplating his afternoon. Being a free man now, he had exchanged the complications of prison life for an entirely new set, now being released back into a society that would only see him as the person he had once been.  

To them, there was no way around it, no avoidance. He was his crime. 

Of course, there had been a few exceptions so far, the girl who’d approached him the previous morning, and the man at the bank hadn’t cared less that he was sitting across from a convicted criminal, his name seeming to mean little to him.  

It was something he would further have to negotiate, and he understood that completely. He’d prepared for it prior to his release, spoken at length about it to his therapist and how to tackle such challenges. While he contemplated the morning he’d had, Erika had her own instance of what people thought about him to deal with. Hers, though, it had to be said, went with much greater success.  

With a dentist appointment to attend, Nina didn’t arrive at the shop until around 1pm, and when she did finally enter the shop just as Erika was about to take her break, she wasn’t altogether sure it was Nina at all.  

The huge mixed bouquet of flowers in various shades of pink, purple and green seemed to be walking upon its own legs, Nina’s head popping around from behind the blooms as she held them forward.  

Her face was a picture of sincerity, her bottom lip protruded a touch. “These are for you, a peace offering with another apology for being such a twat to you yesterday, mate. I’m so sorry.”  

Taking them with a smile, she examined the beautiful bouquet she shuddered to wonder the cost of, their scent fresh and sweet. Placing them down on the counter carefully so as not to tip the water bag they were secured in, she opened her arms, wrapping Nina in a hug.  

She was her best friend; she couldn’t stay angry at her forever. No matter how inappropriate her words had been, Lucas had been right; her concern only came from a place of love. “Apology accepted. The flowers are gorgeous, thank you so much!”  

“You’re so welcome!” she hummed, kissing her cheek a couple of times while gently rubbing her back. “Now, tell me all about your first day with the man, then!”  

Ahh, the Nina she knew and loved had truly returned, the women moving to the back of the shop to take a seat in the staff room, Erika taking her lunch from the fridge while Nina prepared herself a chamomile tea. She couldn’t help but smile widely at the dreamy look on her face, reaching to softly pinch Erika’s shoulder.  

“Ahh, doll. It was so, so great,” she began, her eyes doe, full of sparkle. “He’s such a nice guy, so laid back and grounded. He has this enlightenment to him, I dunno. Think like a buddha, but really sexy and with a great body.”  

Snorting on her laugh, Nina poured her tea. “A sexy buddha, oh girly, you come out with some right crackers!” Joining her, she set her tea down, leaning forward in her seat. “So... how was the sex? Were you at it all night long? I’m a horny, single person. I need deets!” 

She knew she had that question coming. “Not all night, but most of the afternoon. As for how it was... to use one of your British-isms, bloody hell.” Pausing, she widened her eyes, Nina squeaking a little while flapping her hands gently. “Let’s just say twelve years on pause didn’t hamper the man’s skills any. He fucking made me come from penetration alone! No one’s ever done that to me before! Not even me and a dildo have done that to me!” 

The hand flapping and squeaking amped up, the blonde bouncing in her seat excitedly. “We love a man with decent dick game, girly! So, when am I getting to meet him? Are you bringing him to the shop soon? When are you seeing him again?” 

“I think I’ll let him settle for a little while first, before I introduce him to friends.” A sharp toothed little gnaw nibbled at her guts then, thinking about the only people so far who didn’t know about him. Her family. There was always a customary wait with meeting relatives, though, she reasoned.  

Even if Lucas was simply a musician with no dark past, she wouldn’t rush bringing him home to her mom and dad, so it was a worry for later on. “I’m seeing him again on Saturday, for the surprise get together me and Alex have arranged for him.” 

“Oh,” Nina announced, looking surprised. “Three days away, hmm? I thought you’d be welded to his hip now he’s free, you know with you both waiting for this time with all the anticipation.” 

“No, no. When you told me not to go all in with him, I did listen to you,” she stated, winking. “My life doesn’t revolve around a man, and Lucas is no different. No matter how amazing he is, and he is.”  

Her words acted as a reassuring balm to Nina’s lingering fears. While she knew she’d have to meet the man before her concern would be truly dampened (or not, but she hoped this wasn’t the case) she had to admit that her friend was giddily happy, and Lucas was very much the cause of it.  

Sometimes, an opinion over somebody just because you believe it doesn’t make it true. If only everyone could have had the same outlook as Nina Bennett.  

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

Next Chapter

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Eight.

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 3,404

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI!

“Can I get a bottle of Stigberts and a Coke, please?”  

Looking over Alex’s shoulder, the barman and proprietor of the small bar they’d just walked into shook his head. “No, sorry. I saw who you arrived with and I don’t want him in my bar. Out. Now.” 

Alex snorted, shaking his head. “You’re a rude asshole, man.” 

“And he’s a murderer,” he fired back, pointing at the exit. “Out.” 

It seemed to be very hit and miss, whether Lucas would be recognised or not from bar to bar as he and Alex enjoyed a night out, three days following his release. While he’d said he wanted to keep a low profile, equally being cooped up in the apartment bored him senseless, so had compromised and decided to venture out to a few smaller establishments.  

“We gotta go, man.”  

Turning to see Alex looking at him with a thin smile, Lucas rose from his seat without fuss. “Yeah, I get it.”  

“You shouldn’t fucking have to, bro,” he spoke, the men walking out of the bar and heading into one right across from it. “You paid your fucking debt to society. Isn’t anyone’s job to further punish you.”  

“I don’t blame them for it, though. I expected this would happen, it’s fine.” 

How could he be so accepting of it? Alex wished he’d have more of a reaction to being judged so hard, but it wasn’t really in Lucas’s nature to make complaint. Unless it was something that had built and built, then he blew up.  

“It isn’t fine, though. It isn’t. I’m pissed off, you should be, too,” he spoke, moving to the bar and ordering the drinks. There, they were treated as anyone else would be, no fuss, no protest. Yes. Very hit and miss.  

Lucas sighed, scratching his beard with a small frown. “Alex, if I get pissed off then they’re right, aren’t they? It’s like, “oh look, see! The murderer is getting angry, see? We were right. He shouldn’t be allowed out, he hasn’t changed” yadda, yadda, yadda. If I’m calm, they can’t say shit.” 

He supposed he made a point, but still, he hated the fact he was having to suffer it at all. Pre-prison Lucas would have laughed and told the person to go fuck themselves in the face of adversity. He had to concede though that over the last twelve years, of course, his dear friend had changed considerably.  

“I see your point, man. I do.” Paying for the drinks, he turned around, scanning the bar and seeing it was pretty packed, his eyes moving back to a familiar sight sitting a few tables from where he stood. Catching her eye, he waved with a wink. “Nina’s here!”  

“Nina who?” Lucas replied, his eyes suddenly widening. “Oh, you mean Erika’s Nina?”  

“I do,” he confirmed, placing his bottle of IPA down, “and she’s on her way over.” 

Suddenly, Lucas felt a little apprehensive. He knew Nina’s opinion of him was one of caution, and he was about to meet her out there in the wild, as it were, with no Erika beside him for support.  

“Hello, darling,” Alex greeted her with, offering a hug and kiss to her cheek. “How are you?” 

“I’m good, how are you? Nice to run into you again,” she replied casually, looking to Lucas. There wasn’t a flicker of recognition at all. “Hi! I’m Nina,” she offered, thrusting her hand forward.  

“Lucas. Hi, Nina,” he spoke, shaking it.  

Immediately, her eyes widened, mouth dropping open. “You’re Lucas? Get the fuck out!” He laughed quietly at her reaction, the pretty Brit continuing. “What the flaming hell did they feed you in prison? Bloody whole cow’s every meal?” She then pointed at him, turning the Alex, “Fucking size of the bloke!”  

The guys laughed, Lucas immediately enjoying her humour. “Not quite. Oh, is your date an angry looking guy with black dreads? Because if he is, he’s on his way over.” 

She turned just in time to be met by a small tirade. 

“So, you just get up and walk off to go hang with two other guys? I’m outta here, bye.” 

She snorted, Alex pointing in his wake. “And the red flag waves himself out of the bar.” 

“Eh, easy come, easy go. Taxi for Nina Bennett!” she joked, finishing her vodka soda. 

“You want another in there?” Lucas offered.  

She’d planned to leave the bad date behind and get an Uber home, but well, why not? She was out, and now she had a chance to actually get to know the man her best friend was so enamoured with, too. 

“I would, yes please! Absolut and soda, thank you.”  

While he ordered her drink, Alex engaged her in conversation. Not knowing her more than speaking to her briefly at the shop, he asked after her day at work, Nina pulling out her phone and showing him the progress she was making on a large, full leg piece for somebody.  

“That’s insane! Fuck, I really love that!”  

Nina’s speciality was solid black work, something she was in very good demand for with blackout coverings becoming as popular as they were. She liked to stylise them more, though, offering a technique called blast over, which saw the original design peeking through over a new blackwork design.  

“Your bestie is doing a little of that for me,” Lucas revealed, handing her a fresh drink and pointing to his inner elbow. “I’m having this blacked out.” 

“Not so much on board with the Satanism these days, huh?” she inquired, the three moving over to the table she and her former date had occupied.  

“Definitely not.” Taking a seat, he continued. “I have no problem with the type of Satanism I was into prior to what happened. I just want to be free of it all, though, y’know?” 

Sipping her drink, she turned to face him. “What’s the difference between that kind of Satanism, and the one you were into at the time of the... the incident?” she asked, choosing her words carefully. 

Lucas was touched at her respect. The verbal recklessness she’d shown Erika a few days previously no longer existed, it seemed. “The clearest distinction is that The Satanic Temple, my former subscribed set of beliefs, don’t believe Satan to be a deity and don’t worship him. Theistic Satanism does.” 

“So, if you were happy with that,” she spoke picking up her phone, “excuse me, just calling up a page on The Satanic Temple so I can have a little mooch.” 

“Go to the tenets,” he advised, “explains the beliefs clearly and concisely.” 

Nodding, she went to that very page on the site. “So, if you were happy with that,” she reiterated, “why did you choose something so different?” Quickly reading the page while he gulped from his glass of Coke, she couldn’t see anything there concerning. “This all seems very fair, by the way. Very moral, actually.” 

“It is, yeah,” he replied. “As for the different path, well, that’d be the drugs. I still don’t know how I’m even alive, the amount Nils and I were literally blowing through a day. PCP especially is a hell of a drug.” 

She looked a little nonplussed. “Sorry, what’s PCP?” 

“Angel dust,” Alex chipped in with, remembering the time with a small shudder. Bent out of shape was an understatement for how his band mates had ended up. 

Her face lightened in recognition for the explanation. “Shit the fucking bed, no wonder with that stuff. It makes you hallucinate, doesn’t it?” 

“Very much so,” he spoke on a hissed breath. “We basically thought Satan was communicating with us, appearing to us as well.” 

She gaped, eyes widening. “Blimey.” She could see in his face he felt a little tense, teetering that close to what he’d actually done, Nina veering it away a smidgen. “Do you have any long-term damage from using it? I ask because my dad used to drop acid like fucking Skittles in the seventies and he gets flashbacks even now. He’ll be going along fine and suddenly, boom! He’s seventeen and back in the middle of Woodstock tripping balls!”  

“Seriously, your dad was at Woodstock?” Lucas asked, amazed. "And very luckily, no, I don't."

“He was, yeah! He was a roadie for The Who in his mid-teens, spent most of his life on the road until he started his own haulage company moving music gear.” 

Immediately, the two men stared at each other before gaping at her, Lucas reaching to gently grasp her arm. “Is your dad Dave Bennett?” 

Her eyes almost fell out of her head. “Yes!” 

Holy hell, the world was officially too small. “We know him!” Alex shouted excitedly, hardly able to believe his ears. “DKB Haulage moved our equipment for us around Europe on our first headline tour. He almost killed Lucas, too!” 

Nina couldn’t believe it, holding her hands out. “Wait, what? How?” 

“We were in London, and he came out to visit a few of his guys on the tour and so met us at same time. He got a round in and gave me a Jager Bomb, which quickly established my allergy to the food colouring in Red Bull when my blood pressure dropped through the motherfucking floor and I collapsed, unable to breathe. He was great, though. Somehow managed to find an epi pen and then carried me out to an ambulance,” he explained, Nina’s mouth dropping open. 

“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed, laughing as Alex began to guffaw.  

“Didn’t stop him from fucking a nurse before he left the hospital, though!” 

Lucas turned to him, smacking his arm. “Yeah, thanks for that, revealing my previous man whore ways to Erika’s best friend!” 

Nina was in soft fits, loving their energy. “Just as long as you aren’t now, is all that matters.” 

“Definitely not.” he assured her. Speaking of Erika, after around an hour the lady herself, while just about to leave the shop after a late appointment had been fulfilled, received a picture message from Nina.  

“Stop it!” she cried, seeing the faces of both Alex and Lucas looking back at her in the picture with Nina, reading the accompanying text. 

“My date was shit, but running into these two was the silver lining. Your guy seems pretty awesome so far, I have to say! We’re at Oxid Bar. Get a taxi here NOW! Xxx"  

She didn’t need to be asked twice, buzzing with excitement as well as the sheen of joy that Nina had referred to Lucas as awesome.  

Fifteen minutes later and she was entering the bar, receiving a whistle from the man himself, who held up a beer glass.  

“You’re a babe, thank you,” she spoke, taking it and glugging back a big mouthful. It had been a long day. She then leaned to give him a kiss, looking around for a spare seat. At finding none, she was pulled onto his lap. “I can’t believe you all ran into each other! Fucking uncanny as hell.” 

“You’ll never guess what, either,” Nina began, pointing between Alex and Lucas. “They know my dad!”  

Erika’s jaw almost unhinged itself. “What?” 

“And he nearly killed Lucas!” 

“Wait... he what?”  

The story was told again, along with many others from the guy’s life on tour, the women enthralled as much as they were entertained by stories from the road. 

“Bro, Jacob and the damned fence,” Alex spoke at the beginning of one of such stories, Lucas snorting into his glass. They both began hissing with laughter, Alex eventually composing himself enough to share the memory with Erika and Nina.  

“We were travelling through the night, and – where even were we?” 

“Bulgaria,” Lucas confirmed. 

“Right, that’s where we were. Okay, so we didn’t have a working toilet at the time because Nils, fuck head that he is, broke the damned flush. It was full of piss already and we couldn’t use it until we stopped in Greece and could get someone out to repair it. We’re all pissing into bottles, but Jacob and his damned fire hose masquerading as a penis couldn’t aim it right, so we had to keep pulling over for him to go take a piss.  

“Anyway, we pulled over, middle of nowhere, just farms and stuff all around and he jumps out to go. A few seconds pass and suddenly, he screams so loudly he could wake the damned dead. I ran off the bus and he’s there, doubled over, still screaming. Turns out he’d pissed on an electric fence!” 

“And it only kept on getting funnier,” Lucas chimed in with, laughing hard as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nils laughed so hard, he fell out of his bunk, knocked himself out and then came around, kept on laughing and ended up giving himself an asthma attack. He’s at the back huffing his inhaler and breathing into a paper bag, and Jacob’s at the front with a towel full of ice on his crotch!” 

It was funny enough to have them in fits, but Alex’s shriek laughs about Nils’s misfortune really tipped them into hysterics. “I’m reminding him of that, next time he calls.”  

“I hope I’m home when he does, it’ll be good to talk to him again after so long,” Lucas spoke, sipping his drink. 

“Do you know if he’ll be released at time soon?” Nina asked, Alex covering the answer. 

“He’s been told he has a hearing about it in the coming months, so hopefully he could be looking at September or October.” 

It was nice, Erika thought, that his name wasn’t spoken with reserve or shadow, the drummer just as missed and still revered as Lucas had been, even though many thought Nils to be the worse of the two.  

Further stories of hilarity were shared, Nina and Erika contributing a few of their own as the group all settled contentedly into getting to know one another better. It was a shame it had to be negatively disrupted.  

“You’re him, aren’t you? Solna Satanic murders, you’re one of them.” A man suddenly spoke, appearing in front of Lucas.  

He stiffened immediately, noting the demeanour of hostility radiating from him. His first instinct was to protect Erika, still there present on his lap. 

“I am,” he replied simply, his shoulders tightening. He could handle it when it was just him, the looks, the whispers, but something about Erika being there made him suddenly less inclined to take the hostility lying down. 

“Just sitting there, laughing, no cares! After what you did? You’re evil, a fucking disgrace!”  

He was just about to ask exactly what business it was of his, but somebody beat him to it. 

“So, you were a friend of Pieter’s, or his family, perhaps?” Erika asked, fixing him with a sharp look, her tone cool.  

“No, but I -” 

“And you aren’t a family member of Lucas or Nils, are you?” 

“I’m not, but-” 

“Then why, when he’s served his sentence, been deemed fit for release by the prison system, do you presume he answers to you?” 

The man looked flustered, like he could believe he was the one suddenly being put under the spotlight. “Because he’s a murderer!” 

“Umhm. He is, correct. He didn’t get away with it either. He paid his debt to society and now he’s free. He knows what he did was wrong, abhorrent even, and he’s already been judged for it. You judging him now does nothing other than give you a nice feeling inside for being a virtue signalling dickhead.” 

“But-” 

She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t make me get up. He isn’t the one you have to worry about, I am. He isn’t hostile, I am. Now, fuck off.”  

Much to Lucas’s surprise, the man, blushed rouge in the face, dropped his head and walked away. Even more to his surprise, the tables closest to theirs who had witnessed Erika’s quiet, yet stern tirade all began to softly applaud.  

One of them, a woman Lucas estimated to be in her early sixties rose from her seat, approaching them. “You did something awful a long time ago, but not everyone will judge you like he did. Personally, I think you’re very brave to be living your life and facing your doubters with such calmness,” she spoke, then pointing at Erika. “And you! What a woman! Have a great night, guys.” 

“Thanks,” Lucas spoke, beaming at Erika. “We will.” 

“Oh, Lucas?” Nina chimed, her lips broadened by her smile. “In case you didn’t know, she’s a straight up savage, this one here.” 

“I think I’m learning,” he replied, unable to look away from the pull of Erika’s eyes, leaning to kiss her softly. “You’re amazing.”  

“Glad you think so.” she murmured, kissing him again.  

The notion of her amazingness only continued to grow over the weekend, too, Erika arriving at his apartment the following evening and doing the quickest getting ready of her life (much to Lucas’s delight, when she said fifteen minutes, she meant fifteen minutes) before they headed out on foot.  

She’d booked them a table at a restaurant not far away, Lucas only wondering how many reactions he’d receive to his presence, or if he’d have a quiet day and encounter none at all. Friday had been good until he and Alex had gone out, so he quietly hoped tonight would be the same.  

Stockholm was a big place, and he’d been surprised, really, with just how many people remembered and recognised him. Then again, the case had been huge and so he’d learned during his incarceration, the general public the world over seemed to thrive on a good true crime story.  

He blamed Netflix. It still didn’t stop him from enjoying a good documentary, though. He’d even been the subject of a couple, not that he wanted to watch them.  

“Hi, reservation for Erika Lestander?”  

The hostess smiled in greeting. “Right this way, madam.” They were lead through restaurant and down a long corridor before she stopped, gesturing through the door with an outstretched arm. As soon as Lucas stepped inside... 

“Wheeeeey!”  

The resounding cheer almost deafened him. Smiling, he closed his eyes, shaking his head before turning to Erika. “You didn’t.” 

“Nope, me and Alex did,” she replied, squeezing his hand as he leaned to kiss his shoulder, Lucas quickly receiving a very rapid moving Svea and Karin into his arms, the women hugging him tightly.  

“Surprise!” Svea beamed, kissing his cheek. Indeed it was, too. Also present were a few other musicians he’d been friends with prior to his incarceration, three of his cousins, and, well... 

“There’s another surprise behind you.” Alex spoke, nodding over his shoulder as the women took their seats. Turning, he couldn’t believe his eyes at who emerged from behind the door, clasping his hand over his mouth momentarily. 

There stood the biggest surprise of all. Jacob.  

“Come here,” he spoke warmly, opening his arms and pulling him into a huge hug, a few soft noises going around the table at the reunion, one Lucas never thought would ever happen. He’d been so hurt, so angry with him, cutting contact completely after his arrest.  

“I can’t believe it,” Lucas spoke, pulling away to look at him. “You still look twenty, fucking pretty boy.” Cupping the side of his face as he laughed, he was stunned right to his bones. “Fuck, I can’t.” 

He trailed off then his voice pinched as he shed tears, being pulled back into a hug. 

“Hey, hey, come on. Don’t cry, stupid,” Jacob wavered, choked by his own emotion. “I fucking love you.” He kissed the side of Lucas’s head, tightening his arms around him further. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I just, I...” 

“No, brother,” he began, sniffing, rapidly drying his eyes on the heel of his palm. “You don’t have to explain it. I get it, y’know? I get it.”  

It was the reunion he could have only dreamed of, but never, ever expected, and it was all down to Alex and Erika. Turning to her, he kissed her forehead, still feeling a little overcome.  

“Thank you for all of this. You’re incredible.” 

His life was stitching itself back together, and the wonderful woman by his side was the strong thread that formed each connection. While some might have still doubted him, he was elated that the people important to him were not counted among them.  

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[saltyunicorn079]

Sorry, it took so long to read! Been a little MIA! But this was another great chapter! Go, Erika!! And that reunion actually had me getting a little choked up.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Six.

Thank you so much for your support on this, guys. And now, after being the meanest queen of the cliffhanger last week, I will deliver what you've been patiently waiting for!

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 3,990

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI!

“Alright, man. You have to think about every unsexy thing you can here, save blowing your load before you’re even inside her. Shit, this isn’t easy. She’s too fucking sexy.” 

The staunch words Lucas had with himself as they continued to kiss, Erika seating him at the foot of her bed before stripping to nothing before him were very much needed. A woman with that kind of confidence had always been a huge allure; coupled with the fact that it had been twelve years since his last sexual encounter, and it made for an extremely potent alchemy. 

In order to hold himself in some kind of control, he attempted to make it very much about her, hands roaming her curves, only leaving her skin when she pulled his vest over his head. Pushing him back on the bed, her tongue swiping up the centre of his defined chest, it seemed Erika’s need to please him was a powerful force to battle against.  

As was the lust that wound tightly through him because of it.  

His brain became foggy, desire consuming him, the touch of a beautiful woman returned to his body leaving him powerless to fight against it. A low, hissing breath escaped his throat at the feel of her mouth closing to suck his nipple until it pebbled, a soft bite sending waves of pleasure skipping over his nerves.  

Sitting up, she smoothed her hands over his pecs, down onto the chiselled planes of his abs, her eyes stormy with desire. “You have to be about the sexiest man I have ever fucking seen. Wow.”  

The desire lit in him had caught at her edges, both of them burning in the same wanton inferno, Erika biting her lip with a soft gasp as he gently groped her tits, folding to begin laying kisses over his magnificently ripped physique. Undoing his jeans, she slid them down, taking his tight, black boxers with them.  

Having him there before her, naked upon her bed had been a fantasy that had played in her mind for years, and now there he was. The object of her lustful teenage fantasies, looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing on earth.  

Parting his thighs, she knelt down on the floor, the sheepskin rug at the bottom of her bed cushioning her knees, wrapping her hand around his cock. It was truly perfect, not overly long but very thick, Erika feeling her insides slick further at imagining being parted around such girth.  

Keeping her grip gentle, she began to stroke him, watching his eyes fall shut as he groaned, deep and lust soaked. “Ahhh, fuck.” he hissed on a breath, his abs tightening, bouncing hard when her tongue met the crease of his left hip. Soft kisses peppered over his lower abdomen, her hand continuing to move in steady rhythm on his shaft, eventually taking those kisses to the head of his cock.  

His entire body stiffened, eyes scrunching shut as she fed him slowly into her mouth, feeling him twitch against her tongue as she took her hand away, gently scraping her nails down his heavy thighs. Her mouth was stretched to capacity to take him, her lips sinking to the base, his dark blonde pubes tickling her nose before she slowly slid her mouth back up, softly pulsing her lips along his shaft as she ascended.  

It was hard to keep her hunger for him in check, letting him pop from her mouth, tongue running down the vein thickening the underside of his hardness, his groan making her walls clench with want. Oh, to simply move astride him and sink down. It was an urge she fought hard against, returning her mouth to him again though and repeating the same slow, sensuous action of making him disappear into her throat.  

For Lucas, though, with his heart hammering like a war drum, on the receiving end of probably one of the most skilfully administered blowjobs he could remember having, it was too much. With his nerves frayed on the pleasure that ripped through them like a sweet knife edge, chest rising and falling rapidly, he grasped her upper arms and hauled her up until she was astride him again. 

“Feels too good,” he murmured, kissing her blindingly. “Let’s concentrate on you for a while, yeah?”  

Humming into the kiss, her nails stroked swirls at the sides of his neck, his hands gliding down her back, one moving to slip between her legs. His insides tightened to feel how wet she was already, her soft little moan as his fingers delved between the petals of her cunt making his cock pulse hot.  

To touch a woman again intimately; he knew he’d missed it, but it wasn’t until that moment as he began to stroke her, fingertips rotating a light circle of her clit, that he truly realised how much. Her kisses went to blaze, tongues rolling together as she felt the heat of it skip over her bones, panting into his mouth. Twelve years had done little to hamper what was very obviously an impressive aptitude for arousing a woman out of her mind. 

Those talented fingers then slipped down, dipping into her hole, just enough to make the stretch of them shoot up her spine like a shockwave, settling in her brain, the sensation dizzying. Breaching her further, she mewled against his tongue, a slight crook raking against endless paths of nerve endings, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit.  

Fuck... fuck... 

Each slide of his fingers back and forth in her heat fractured lightning beneath her skin, her hips purling against his hand, mouth moving to his neck. She cried out, all soft heat, teeth softly marking the side of his throat with a little bite, Lucas moving her onto her back, arranging himself to lie flat between her legs.  

His pupils blew out rapidly as he watched the trawl of his fingers, glossy wet as they raked at her puffy cunt, wasting no time in replacing them for his mouth. Oh... oh gods above him. How he’d missed the way a woman felt against his tongue.  

The rolling groan that reverberated through his throat threshed heat straight to her chest, the feel of his mouth all over her cunt eating her greedily – yet not sloppily at all – intensifying the golden glow of ecstasy. Those groans only loudened, a continuous sound rich and full of indulgence, sucking upon her hungrily as he suddenly began to chuckle.  

“Sorry,” he spoke, releasing her folds with a little slurp. “I’m not usually this noisy, but fuck, I missed pussy.” 

Reaching for him, she stroked his shortly shaven hair, nails raking over the flecks of stubble. “Don’t apologise! Unless you couldn’t tell by the fact I’m probably drowning you a little, I’m having a damned good time.” she assured him through her soft laughter, Lucas going right back to what he was so enjoying.  

The press of his tongue against her little bud had her panting, the stimulation perfect, her legs quivering as he held them firmly splayed in each big hand. Pushing against her opening, he tongue fucked her, his cock so rigid it throbbed with sinful pulses, the feel and taste of her exquisite. 

Pleasure roared down her spine, pooling at his tongue, his groan at feeling her dampen his mouth so deep and gritty, it made her stomach roll over. It only intensified when he returned his licks to her clit, thumbing the hood, making it stand out to each careful beat of his tongue. Using the tip to flicker rapidly, he then alternated, sliding in a gentle circle, her legs tensing rigid, her wail making him smile against her soaked folds.   

“Oh, my fuck. You’re so good!” She whispered, eyes fluttering shut, nails trailing his scalp as she writhed against the heavenly ministrations of his mouth. He licked at her with all the precision and skill she’d touch herself with, her body humming with ecstasy, hardly able to believe how good he was.  

Twelve years had not diminished his skills as a lover, it would seem, although Erika had no idea just how tightly the nerves were gnawing at his insides at that moment. He knew she’d be understanding, but all the same, he didn’t want to disappoint the woman who’d been there waiting for him, for that very moment.  

It flowed fluidly between them, though, Lucas emerging from between her legs to kiss her heatedly, murmuring something about condoms as his hands stroked her breasts. She didn’t break away from those sinfully hot kisses while reaching for the drawer beside her bed, pulling one out and handing it to him.  

His look of trepidation as he pulled it out had her in soft fits. “Stop being so nervous!” 

“I can’t!” he cringed, laughing awkwardly. He had to admit, though, her good humour was dissolving the tension a little as he pulled the condom on. “Okay, are you ready for the best twenty seconds of your life?” 

She arched an eyebrow. “I was promised twenty-five.”  

He smiled, a little grimaced, shaking his head as he sat back on his heels, pushing her legs apart to splay her and with a fluid push, sinking in.  

Lightning forked his spine immediately, feeling the hug of wet velvet clutch around him, the way her mouth dropped open and the little blissful sob that fluttered out only intensifying it. The way she looked at him made little storms rage through his chest, falling to her, mouth meeting hers in a kiss of swirling, burning desire as he began to move back and forth steadily.  

“Fuck,” she whimpered, “oh, fuck, your cock feels so good!” 

Immediately, it sent a bolt through him, the tangency lost as he slipped out with a burst of laughter. “And you just nearly turned me into a ten second wonder. Stop it.” 

At least he could laugh about it, Erika giggling hard, exploding when he emerged from the side of her neck at the pained look on his face. “Just take it slow and pull out if it gets too much.” Stroking his face, she kissed him, nails tickling his beard. “It’s fine, don’t stress.” 

Arrowing into her again, he dragged her walls slowly, his hands grasping the beautiful orbs of her breasts, her little gasps making his insides sizzle. The heat of her had him melting right to his very marrow, kissing from one side of her neck to the other, Erika juddering with delight beneath him, turning her head to receive a kiss of scorching lust.    

Her nails clawed his back as he filled and emptied her deliciously slowly, wailing as she was speared so deeply, she felt his balls press into her with every thrust, her back curving in response to ruinous way in which he fucked her. It was scalding, the way his body slid against hers, moving one of her legs up and somehow, managing to hit her deeper.   

Clutching him, her hands were everywhere, panting against the smoky kisses they shared as she was arrowed into repeatedly. He stared down at her, nuzzling her softly, watching the way her bright green eyes danced in flames of pure sin, his heart skipping on a couple of beats.  

How had he gotten so lucky, to be free at last and there with her? The moment had kept him going for so long, resting his forehead to hers, fingers trailing her cheeks as he kissed her deeply.  

“Oh, shit, oh! You feel so fucking good, gonna make me come so hard!”  

Those wails pulled him headlong out of any kind of control, hips pounding against her as tingles surged sharp beneath his skin. The fluttering of her walls around him as she came apart had him cresting, the force of his orgasm knocking him sideways.   

Looking down at her, he smiled, chuckling softly at her blissed-out face. “A solid two minutes. Better than I thought.” She didn’t reply, gaping, looking a little out of it. “You okay?” 

“I’ve never come from penetration alone before,” she panted, “or that fucking quickly. Fuck, if that’s what you can do to me in two minutes, I think I’m about to have a really, really good afternoon.” 

Oh, how she wasn’t wrong at all. Once the man found his stride, he was boundless. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ohhh!”  

She’d never been with a man physically strong enough to literally hold her on his forearms as he fucked her against a wall with such ease, but there she was, being pounded to the beat of Rein Raus by Rammstein blaring from her speakers. Fitting, given the subject of the song itself.  

His fingers dug in at her hips, slowing, daggering her slow as his teeth gently nipped at the side of her neck, both sweat soaked and panting hard. The slow punch of his cock hit her deep, sent sparks flaring through her blood with the rolling rhythm of it, her nails dragging down his wide back.  

Speeding up again, he set the kind of unforgiving pace that drove thoughts from her mind, anything else other than how it felt to have him inside her, his body pressed tightly to hers completely eclipsed. Staring at her, she felt entranced by the flashfire blue of his eyes, his teeth gently tugging a bite at her lower lip, moving her from the wall and taking her to the bed.  

Lying back, he happily let her take control, hands touring her tattooed curves as she rolled her hips against him, glimmers suffusing every nerve ending as soft moans dripped from her mouth like honey. 

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, reaching to push his fingers between her full lips. “Give me all those pretty little noises while you ride me hard.” 

Sharp, hard thrusts met each of her downward movements, the thick of him spreading her wide, remaking her around him as the pleasure skittered over her bones, loving the feel of his hand gently gripping her neck as she stared at him alluringly.  

The deep grind of him had her aching with tension, his other hand moving to her, thumb rubbing at her clit, evoking the kind of wails that made him throb as he dragged her sweet spot. “Come on, beautiful. I wanna feel you come on my cock.” 

Rubbing his thumb harder, he felt her tense around him, Erika throwing her head back as her release fractured beneath her skin and rushed through her like a torrent. Pulling her down against his chest, he held her clasped to him, driving up into her so hard, she screamed in his ear. 

“Fuck, I’m coming again, fuck, Lucas!” It hit her in unabating waves, left trembling against him as he pounded every wave of his release into her soaking core, both rendered completely breathless. 

“You’re such a fucking good fuck!” she finally panted, kissing the side of his neck, feeling his cock still gently twitching within her. 

He grinned, easing her onto her back and pulling off the condom, knotting it and throwing it into the bin. “I didn’t want to say anything before, because I wasn’t sure I still would be. But yeah, I am.” 

She grinned at the wink he gave her, tickling the side of his back with her toes. “Those skills aren’t the type someone forgets, not even after twelve years.” 

Moving onto his front beside her, he kissed her shoulder a few times, chasing the pink flush over her chest with his fingertips. “Well, I wasn’t sure. It pays to be humble.”  

Truly, he had no need to be. Not after what she’d been receiving on and off for the last few hours.  

They lay together kissing and talking, their tired bodies illuminated in the afternoon light casting long shadows across her bedroom, Erika watching as his eyes began to grow heavy. When the rhythmic stroking at her waist ceased, she turned to see his face shuttered in sleep. 

“I think you earned that rest.” she whispered, throwing the sheet over him and creeping from the bed, grabbing her sweats and a small, clean tube top before heading out for a shower.  

She was mid-way through applying body lotion after getting out when her phone began to trill at the side of the sink. 

“Just making sure you’re not dead!” 

Nina. Because of course, it was Nina. 

“That joke is in poor taste, doll.”  

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself!” It seemed not. “Look, I have to make light of it somehow. I’ve been so bloody worried about you all day.”  

Erika softened then, hearing the concern in her voice. While she might have trusted Lucas, Nina didn’t, and that was fine. She didn’t know him, after all, didn’t see the change in him. “No need to worry, but I get why you did. I’m absolutely fine, alive and well, as you can hear. To use one of your famous British-isms, though, my fanny is absolutely knackered.” 

There was a pause. “Oh, oh so you did go all in?” 

She loved Nina to death but wasn’t in the mood for being chastised in a motherly, “that isn’t what I advised you to do” way. “Having sex with the man I’m dating isn’t going all in. I can still be getting to know him while I do. In fact, sex is an important part of that process.”  

Again, there was a pause, the sound of air being huffed out audible down the line. “You’re right, you’re right. Sorry, mate. I need to start trusting you a little bit, don’t I? It's like what Carrie said, you do you.” 

“Apology accepted,” she replied, keeping her voice light while underneath, she felt a little needled.  

“So, where are you, his place or yours? How was your day with him? I’m done being a twat now, back to supportive Nina.”  

Erika liked that she saw the folly of her opening statements, feeling herself unclench a little as she began to dress. “It’s been wonderful, yeah. He’s been wonderful, we’ve had a great day together. And we’re at my place. I just got out of the shower, and he’s passed out in bed.” 

Nina sighed, hearing it clearly. “I’ve pissed you off, haven’t I?” 

“Little bit.” Honesty was always the best policy. 

“Look, can we start afresh tomorrow? I’m sorry, I understand that me and my big mouth probably took the sheen off things for you. I need to work on that.” 

Yes, she really did. “Okay, see you tomorrow. Love you.” 

“Love you too, girly.” 

While the sentiment was genuine, it was delivered crisply, Erika hanging up and leaving the bathroom, heading into the kitchen. It was while she was pulling a cold can of soda from the fridge that she heard her bedroom door open, Lucas’s voice following. 

“Mind if I use your shower, beautiful?” 

“Go for it,” she replied, “there’s fresh towels in the cupboard under the sink.” 

“Thanks, won’t be long.” 

While he showered, she stewed in her fury, muttering to herself while sipping on ice cold soda. A few minutes passed before she saw him approach in the kitchen window reflection; Lucas able to see that hers was not a face of happiness until he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek.  

“What’s the matter?”  

“Nina,” she sighed, leaning back against his bare chest. With the heat still high, she didn’t blame him for only re-dressing in his jeans. “She called while you were sleeping and made a couple of comments that pissed me off to be honest.” 

His arms tightened a fraction before he turned her to face him. “Talk to me, tell me what she said.” 

While he moved to seat himself up on the counter, she leaned back against the fridge opposite. “Well, she began the phone call with “just making sure you’re not dead!” which was fucking disgraceful if I’m honest,” she began, Lucas interjecting. 

“Can’t say I blame her, I mean, she’s your best friend and I’m a murderer. I understand why it pissed you off, though. What else?” 

Not even a flicker of anger in him. God, she wished she had some of his emotional maturity. Not that she was particularly immature, but it didn’t take much to spark her temper. “So we talk a little and yeah, obviously I told her we had sex, and she’s all like, “oh, so you did go all in, then?” and taking to me like I’m a fucking teenager, not a woman of thirty who can make up her own fucking mind about a person. A person she doesn’t even know!” 

Seeing her spiral into anger, he reached for her, pulling her between his legs and hugging her. “Baby, calm down,” he soothed, stroking her back. “You need to expect she’s going to be protective over you, y’know? What kind of friend would she be if she wasn’t, hmm? I’d be, if I was her. Did she apologise?” 

“Yes, but she shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was poor taste!” 

His hand continued stroking, her muscles remaining clenched tight. “It was, I’ll give you that. I can see it from both sides here, though. If she apologised too then that’s something, right?”  

“Lucas, how can you be this nice and accepting over someone who only sees you as a murderer?” she cried, her frown deepening, beginning to gesture with her hands before bringing them to rest against his thick shoulders.  

His reply was simple. “Because to Nina, that really is all I am. She doesn’t know me, but she will eventually. Give her a little grace, baby. She’ll come round when she does get to spend some time with me and see for herself I’m not just the crime I committed. Some people handle what they’re not comfortable with using dark humour, too. I bet she’s the same, right?” 

She was, actually. He’d hit the nail on the head. “How are you so fucking perfect, hmm? How?” she exclaimed, watching him shake his head. 

“I think it’s very well established that I'm far from it,” he began, widening his eyes a little, taking the can of soda from her hand and swigging back a sip. She moved away for a second, delving into the fridge and grabbing one for him, Lucas taking it with thanks. “Prison gives you a lot of time and patience, patience with other people and all their flaws as well as yourself and your own. Don't be too harsh on her. She just loves you is all.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed, resting her forehead against his chest, “I guess you’re right.” 

Hooking his fingers beneath her chin, he lifted it, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I am. It’ll be fine, you’ll see. Now, do you want to order us some dinner in and I’ll pay, or shall I just take you back to bed?” 

Her smile grew in an instant. “Both? First then second?” 

“Done.” 

God, he was so, so lovely. Such a patient, level-headed man. Erika was determined not to let anybody take the sheen of that for her either, although she knew inevitably someone likely would further down the line. For that moment, it was just about them, though. Them, a Thai takeaway, and then him indeed taking her back to bed. 

“I just text Alex,” he told her later that night, climbing back into bed after using the bathroom. “Said I’d see him in the morning if you can give me a ride over there before work?”  

“Yeah, of course I can.” 

“Good, because I don’t want my first night falling asleep as a free man without you in my arms.” 

She was certain she’d discover plenty of things to the contrary eventually, little quirks about him that would bug her to death, but for then she was firmly sticking to the notion that Lucas Borgström was indeed perfect.  

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[saltyunicorn079]

Read this entire thing and then realized I had teeth marks in my finger from biting my fist! 🥵😆 So hot!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary Masterlist

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Cast of characters (Face claims)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Five.

Are you ready for Lucas as a free man? Because here he comes! :)

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 4,070

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

She’d set her alarm for six, but had been awake since 5am, much too excited to sleep. Doing a quick bodyweight exercise workout (a little of Lucas’s influence rubbing off on here there) she took a long, cool shower, tidying her bedroom nicely and then preparing to get ready. Even though she didn’t have to be at the prison until 8am, she planned to leave early.  

“No, not the dress. Too sexy. Casual. I need casual but oh my fuck, the heat already!” she muttered, rifling further through the depths of her wardrobe. Settling on comfy yet cute, she chose Lycra shorts and a vest top both in black, with a plaid shirt knotted at the waist over the top. She pinned her hair up in a cute, messy bun before applying her makeup.  

There, she wouldn’t be quite so casual in her choices, deciding on a nice set of feathery false eyelashes and giving herself a dark, bronze-brown smoky eye with lots of kohl, a little blush and highlighter too before finishing her look with a slick of tinted lip balm.  

Lipstick would be pointless, for as soon as she saw him, the first thing she wanted was the kind of kiss that would ruin even the most smudge proof of cosmetics. The little ritual of her getting ready routine acted like a calming tonic, but every so often she’d picture his face in her mind and her tummy would somersault.  

Checking her reflection once finished, she added a few pieces of jewellery, happy with how she looked, spritzing herself with perfume before jamming her feet into her Vans and taking a few deep breaths. 7:15am. It was time to leave, with her excited little heart thundering away in her chest.  

With every kilometre that passed along her journey, the internal butterflies only grew wilder in their merry flutter. She could hardly believe that the letter she’d sent to him three years before had led to this, her being the one to fetch him from prison as a free man at last.  

Her. She was the one he couldn’t wait to be with. Her. God, she was lucky.  

As she approached the prison, the imposing structure and barbed wire fences seemed less threatening and more symbolic of the freedom that awaited Lucas beyond them. The sun was already beating down hard, making the tarmac shimmer, but Erika barely noticed as she parked her car and walked up to wait at the main entrance for him.  

Even with a little traffic to contend with, she was still ten minutes early, pacing around while nervously twirling a loose tendril of her hair. Her heart raced with anticipation, every second bringing her closer to the moment she had been dreaming of.  

“Oh, my fuck!” she squeaked, seeing him through the reinforced glass panes of the large doors emerging from within, those heavy security doors then buzzing open.  

There he was. Tall, strong, and unmistakably different from the man who had first entered there twelve years prior. Their eyes met, and a thousand emotions passed between them. With a smile that could rival the sun, Lucas walked towards her, the burden of years behind bars melting away with each stride. 

Placing the bag and bass guitar case he carried down on the floor, he opened his arms wide. “Fucking come here, then!” 

She squealed softly with utter delight, running into his arms, clinging onto him as they shared elated laughter, Erika burying her face against his neck as he swung her around. Turning to him, finally, she received exactly what she’d been craving; the kind of kiss that knocked the wind right out of her.  

Their mouths didn’t break apart at all as his hands glided down to the back of her thighs, lifting her neatly and cleanly from the ground again, Erika wrapping her legs around his waist as their tongues continued to roll together sensually. 

Holy hell, the man could kiss. 

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and grinning, she leaned her forehead against his, feeling the reality of his presence wash over her in a wave of overwhelming relief and joy.  

“Hiya!” she finally chirped brightly, making him chuckle. 

“Hi yourself, beautiful,” he beamed, kissing her again. “I guess I should put you down and let you drive me away from this place, but I kinda don’t want to right now.” 

“How about you give me another of those kisses until you do?” 

Her suggestion was accepted, their mouths pressing together again. Inside, the glow he felt was unsurpassed. He was free, with the woman who’d shown him such unwavering support clung on against him, the heat from her body so closely pressed to his having the kind of effect that he’d expected. His heart raced even more rapidly than just her presence alone had caused, happily lost to the gentle, yet heated kisses they shared.  

“Oh, so I’m not being put down any time soon, then?” she asked when they parted, Lucas shifting her around to his hip before reaching for his bag. Swinging it over his shoulder, he then picked up his guitar case, looking at her adoringly. 

“Not just yet, no.” 

“But I’m heavy!” she exclaimed. 

Immediately, he scoffed at such a notion. “Bullshit, you’re not at all.”  

For a man who lifted the kind of weights he did, she probably wasn’t. He carried her with complete ease, Erika feeling tiny in his grasp, which for a girl of 1.75 metres tall was virtually unheard of. She’d always been as tall or taller than any other man she’d previously been involved with, and none of them had been strong enough to carry her like she was a small doll. 

Lucas, at a towering 1.93 metres tall, and what she estimated to be around 140kgs in weight, was vastly different. 

“Wow, that’s a motherfucking cool car!” he exclaimed, setting her down beside her beloved motor. Being someone who took more than a passing interest in muscle cars, he knew what it was, the striking, gun metal painted vehicle a 1967 Ford Galaxie 500. “This is the one you did up with your dad, right?” 

“Correct,” she confirmed, popping the trunk, the space big enough to fit both his guitar case and bag. “He bought it as a wreck at a car show down in the Netherlands and drove it all the way up back up here on a low loader. Worth it, considering he paid about four thousand euros for it as a heap. It’s worth about four times that now.” 

They climbed in, fastening their seatbelts as Erika continued. “It’s fast as hell, too. We took out the standard engine and put in a big-block V8, so it has some power.” 

Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, looking a little pained. “Stop it. You’re a beautiful woman who knows her stuff about cars. I’m getting way too turned on!” 

“It does naught to sixty in seven seconds,” she playfully revealed, bobbing her tongue between her teeth. 

He groaned, prompting her giggles. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll be fucking doing naught to sixty in seven seconds, too. I promised you twenty-five.”  

Leaning to him, she gave him a few kisses through her laughter. “Sorry!” 

He curled his lip, gently biting hers. “No, you’re not. Motherfucking terrorist upon my male hormones.” 

“And you think you’re fair on mine, do you, looking the way that you do right now?” Smoothing her hand over his chest, she could have died on the spot. Oh, to touch him! To see more of him, too, his gorgeous, bulky arms and thick chest, shown off nicely in the black vest he was he was wearing.  

Nope. Her hand didn’t stop stroking for a moment. “This chest is next level sexy.”  

He looked her up and down, winking. “I grew it just for you, baby girl.”  

The air truly crackled between them, Erika feeling less and less like she would be able to hold herself back, should sex be on the agenda. Why should she, either? She was a grown woman of thirty, knew Lucas was in it with her for more than just a quick lay, so why not?  

Leaning for another kiss first, she turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring into life. Since Alex was out at work until 6pm that evening, and in his haste to prepare everything for his friend’s homecoming had forgotten to have spare keys to his apartment cut, they were spending the day together.  

Lucas had said he wanted his first day of freedom to be low key, that he’d get around to visiting with the few people left in his life in the days to follow. She was really touched that she was the person he prioritised to be around first. 

Sitting there comfortably, his hand rested on her thigh while gently stroking the soft, bare flesh with his thumb, he felt whole. More so than he had in a long, long time. With every kilometre that passed, spiriting him further and further from the place he’d been confined to for the past twelve years, a shimmer of restoration flooded his veins.  

It was an odd feeling, knowing that while the prison had acted as just that, confining him from all he knew and loved, equally, it had been his sanctuary for a long, long time, too. It had put a divider between him and the vying mob who likely wanted his blood spilled after what he had done, kept him safe, nurtured his regrowth from troubled young man to the well-adjusted, fully grown one he now was. 

Looking to his side, he smiled at the woman who he now very much saw the same way. Erika’s devotion to their burgeoning bond truly had been a safe sanctuary for him, too. Now, he was free to revel in it, and he couldn’t have been more elated. 

Here it was at last. His second chance to make something of his life after his actions had robbed him of so much of it.  

As they drove along the winding roads, the morning sun casting dappled shadows through the trees, Erika could sense a palpable shift in his demeanour. The lines of tension that had often etched his face seemed to soften with each passing moment, his gaze more serene as he took in the surroundings of his freedom. 

 They spoke of everything and anything along the journey, their words a balm to the wounds of the past, a testament to the bond they had formed and were now ready to work upon further.  

“How do you feel?” she asked, manoeuvring the car onto the highway, away from the more rural surroundings of green and gold.  

“Unburdened,” he replied simply, hand gently squeezing her thigh. He’d rested it there before they’d even left the prison carpark, making no effort as yet to move it. “Ready to start all over again.”  

The beginning of that start was firstly to fuel his rumbling stomach, Lucas much too excited to eat at breakfast that morning, so telling Erika to find somewhere decent and he’d pay.  

In his last visit, Alex had left a number of personal possessions he wasn’t allowed to have while in the prison with the booking wardens, ready for his release. These included a new cell phone, his thick silver curb necklace, his Mjolnir pendant, chunky silver rings and watch, plus a new wallet he’d stuffed with some of his savings' cash.  

Their destination place was a small restaurant not too far from her tattoo shop, Erika managing to find a parking space and swinging the car in. They walked down to the eatery with the earthy, hippie vibe hand in hand, Lucas experiencing a little inner tension.  

He didn’t know what the hell he would do, should somebody recognise him. Obviously stand his ground and be polite in the face of hostility, that was a given, but how he’d actually word a comeback to any negativity was beyond him. 

It felt as if he wore a neon light above his head, the word murderer illuminated there for all to see, yet many people on the busy street passed him by without a second glance. To them, he was simply a big, tall, tattooed guy, walking hand in hand with a beautiful, tall, tattooed woman.  

“What the motherfuck is a cronut?” he exclaimed, frowning as he read the menu before him a few moments later, sat at a table in front of the restaurant. 

Ahhh, yes. There would be certain things that had passed him by while serving his sentence, new food fads being just one of them. “It’s a mix between a croissant and a doughnut. They’re not that good.”  

“Noted. I think I’ll just stick to eggs. I know where I am there.” He chose them scrambled, with a side of turkey bacon, sourdough rye toast and steamed vegetables, Erika admiring him for his commitment to eating healthily. Taking the first mouthful, too, he saw that while prison food hadn’t been outright awful, it was still nowhere near as good as what was before him on that plate. 

Or maybe it had something to do with it being his first meal as a free man. Perhaps a little of both. He couldn’t deny though as he sat out there, he felt a tiny bit on edge. 

“You look, I dunno,” she observed, spearing the last piece of her pancakes with her fork. “A little tense?” 

Picking up his coffee, he took a swig, the corner of his mouth upturning a little bit. It was more grimace than smile, though. “I guess I’m just waiting for somebody to recognise me, and the reaction they’d have to that.” 

Reaching for his forearm, she rubbed it affectionately. “Don’t be nervous about it. Just shut them down, it’s none of your business.” 

“I’m not nervous,” he stated, scratching his beard. “Merely apprehensive.” 

“Well, don’t be that, either.” It was his first day as a free man; the last thing he needed was to feel anything close to negativity, although she understood why he might.  

“Listen, I know for you, you were trapped in one place where your life wasn’t able to move on while confined, but for other people? It’s different. Their lives have moved on, there’s been other things to arise in the last twelve years to pull their focus. Trust me, people aren’t discussing the Solna Satanic murder like they used to.” 

Her measured wisdom gave him pause for thought, Lucas slowly beginning to nod. She was right. While he’d remained in the same place, both physically and often mentally, the society who’d so reviled and condemned him had moved on. Could he say for certain he’d never receive backlash? No. Would it likely occur as much as he was anticipating? Also no. At least, he hoped so. 

He was just about to thank Erika for her sage words, when, as if cosmically timed... 

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’re Lucas Borgström, aren’t you?” 

Looking to his side, he felt his spine grow a little rigid, until noting the expression on the face of the girl who’d asked him. Starstruck.  

“Yeah, yeah I am.” 

“Oh god! I thought it was you, but you look so different to how you did! Fuck, I can’t believe you’re out of prison now, wow! Can I get a picture with you for my blog, please?” 

He hated to let her down, seeing the honest excitement there in her. She was so young still, too, probably only in her late teens. “Sorry, no. I don’t want anything ending up on the internet just yet. Trying to keep a lowish profile for a while.” 

She looked a little deflated, but accepted without fuss. “I didn’t realise, I’m sorry,” she apologised, Lucas shaking his head.  

“S’okay, it’s fine. It’s just my first day out so I’m adjusting, don’t really want any attention, y’know?”  

“Okay, no problem. It was great to meet you, Lucas.” She smiled, waving, acknowledging Erika with a little nod too before walking away. 

Immediately she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that, huh?”  

He crinkled his nose a little, scratching the back of his head. “Hmm, wasn’t expecting that.”  

“No, because your immediate default is to be down on yourself,” she spoke gently, hand returning to rest on his arm. He moved it, entwining his fingers with hers instead, squeezing softly.  

“Again, you’re right, I do. Thanks, baby. For calling me out on it.” 

As Erika's touch grounded him, he couldn't help but marvel at the strange mixture of emotions swirling within. The encounter with the young fan had been unexpectedly positive, a stark contrast to what he'd anticipated. He wouldn’t immediately feel an internal change, knew he’d always be waiting for someone to confront him, or clandestine whispers and disapproving glances to be directed toward him. 

However, one thing he could reply on was knowing Erika's unwavering support would serve as his compass, his true north. Smiling at her across the table as she finished her latte, he felt a glimmer of optimism breaking through his apprehension. 

They stayed for another coffee, enjoying the shade from the nearby trees on what truly was a sweltering summer morning. 

“Someone’s in demand,” he spoke, nodding toward her phone. It had been emitting a series of little pings all morning, yet she hadn’t bothered checking it much.  

“Sorry, I’ll put it on silent.” 

“No, no, s’okay. I wasn’t complaining,” he assured her, “just noticing is all. Work emails?”  

Unlocking the screen, she took a look at her notifications. “A few, yeah. Mostly these are comments and likes on my Instagram page, though.” 

Immediately, he held out his hand, eyes widening a little. “Show me? I haven’t seen anything regarding your work other than the sketches you sent with your letters.” 

His enthusiasm flattered her, opening the app and handing her phone to him, Lucas beginning to scroll through. With every image that passed, his eyebrows only rose higher.  

“That’s insane, seriously.” Turning the screen, she saw the gigantic back piece she’d recently finished for a client, all gone in dotwork. It had been one of her most challenging accomplishments to date, Erika truly thriving on the task presented to her in her specialised field of that tattooing style. He continued his scrolling, closing his eyes suddenly with a very deep, yet quiet little groan. The screen was turned again. 

“Ahh, that’s Nicki practising her photography skills and using me as a model. That was the weekend away we had recently, just after I got back from England.” The picture that had captivated him so much was one of her posing at the edge of a hot tub, her legs looking impossibly long, hair tumbling in a dark, wavy cascade, green eyes glittering like peridots in the sun.  

“You are unbelievably sexy. Tell me, how many more pictures of this am I likely to find? Just so I know how many buckets of water I have to go and ask the people of this establishment to throw over me?”  

“A couple.” she giggled, resting her chin on her hand, she observed him keenly, quietly laughing more when he made much the same reaction a few further pics down.  

Shifting in his seat as he looked out from under his eyebrows at her. “You’re in so much trouble.”  

“I am?” she teased innocently, her heart fluttering at the look of desire right there in his bright blue eyes. “Trouble I bet I can handle.”  

“You’ll need to, after I get my twenty-five seconds of shame out of the way,” he chuckled, continuing to look through the pictures. Once again, the phone was turned, but this time to focus more on her professional art rather than the work of art he considered her to be. “You did that freehand?” 

Studying the image of Japanese style dragon she’d done on a client’s leg about six months ago, her nod confirmed. “Umhm, I did.” 

“Motherfucking show off.” 

“I could say the same for you, you know. I found an old video of you on YouTube a while back, having a jam when you were about sixteen.” 

Lucas’s style was very much borne of his admiration for the late Lemmy Kilmister, bass playing frontman of Motorhead, one of his favourite bands. Distorted and chord-heavy, just like his idol, he played more with a rhythm-based approach, even favouring the same make of bass, a Rickenbacker.  

That didn’t mean he wasn’t adept in other playing disciplines, though. It was usually how musicians became as stunningly talented as he was, following a rich and diverse path with their influences. 

He was thoughtful for a moment, trying to place which video she meant. “Is that the one where I’m jamming to Nutbush City Limits with Nils singing?” 

Yes, that was indeed the one. “That’s it! Whatever anyone wants to say about Nils, I have to give him credit. The man has some serious pipes.” She’d gotten shivers, listening to the drummer boom out the classic rock n’ roll song. It made her wonder why he’d chosen to be a drummer, with a voice like that. When Lucas had later joined in, singing with him, she could see very much though why he was the frontman. Wow.  

It also fascinated her, that the guys in The Hanged were such true appreciators of music in so many forms and genres. Loud, blistering metal had made them famous, but their skills far extended beyond their chosen medium.  

“Yeah, yeah. Nils is crazy talented. Plays so many instruments, has a great voice. He takes people by surprise, y’know? He’s probably one of the most talented musicians I know.”  

His eyes saddened a little then, Erika spotting it immediately. “You really miss him, don’t you?”  

The truth of that hit him hard in the chest for a moment. Since they’d been sent to different prisons, and inmates were not permitted to have contact with others within the system, it had been twelve years since they’d been in touch. 

“I do, yeah. I really do. I miss who he was before all of this shit happened, before we both went down the wrong path. People say that he was always dark, something a little sinister about him, yadda, yadda, yadda. I suppose that’s true, but it didn’t define him, y’know? He used to be so giddy and larger than life, and that laugh of his. I’d crack up just to hear the guy whooping and screaming with laughter!”  

Her smile was soft, cocking her head to the side. “Let’s hope that same Nils you remember so fondly is the one who’ll eventually be released, hmm?” 

He could only agree, and truly hope so, too. 

Leaving not long after, they headed to a place Lucas had been missing sorely since his time away, Erika driving them over to Tyresta National Park, a beautiful landscape of natural beauty.  

They walked hand in hand through the gorgeous surroundings, their time there a serene interlude, a moment of reflection and connection with nature's embrace. For Lucas, it was a much-needed balm, absorbing the tranquil beauty around them. There, he truly felt the encompassing comfort of freedom embrace him in a comforting cocoon. 

The air was a little fresher there although the heat still mildly stifling, filled with the scent of pine and the distant murmur of a flowing stream. Beneath the feeling of tranquillity, though, the burn of desire only began to glow further, a red-hot ember that tumbled between them with every kiss, every word delivered in flirt, every glance of unadulterated want for one another.  

Leaving at just past midday, they arrived at Erika’s just before 1pm. Turning to her in the small hallway of her charming little bungalow, no words were exchanged, a gaze of pure wanton desire lingering.  

He thought he’d be the one to dive upon her first, but it was her who grabbed him by the front of his jeans and hauled him near, their kisses immediately feral. Some might think it too quick, but for them, this had been building and building for three long years, the need in them now burning like a match dropped too close to a source of accelerant.  

Little would stop the fire that had now been lit between them, if anything at all.  

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[saltyunicorn079]

I love the work you put into describing little details like the car and his music style because it helps pull you into the story via character experience. I think your character building is one of your biggest strengths and I think you shine when you develop original characters!

And I’m kinda dreading meeting Nils. They’re so hopeful, but it feels like their comments foreshadow doom. I don’t want him to show up and yet, I also can’t wait to see how you’ve written him.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Four.

Thanks to those offering engagement on this! I really do appreciate you so much for it :)

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 3,196

Previous Chapters - One Two Three

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

“Hi, beautiful.” 

Immediately, hearing his rumbled tones sent her insides to a roving flock of butterflies, Erika plopping herself down on the sofa within her extremely clean and tidy house after spending most of her day off wrestling with mess. “Hiya! How’s the big guy?” 

“I dunno. If I see him, I’ll ask, though.” 

Lucas and his self-deprecating humour. “Shut up.” 

“You shut up,” he chuckled, his smile widening hugely. “How was your day, then?” Silence. “Erika?” 

“You told me to shut up,” she pouted, trying hard not to snort with laughter at her own playful petulance. “So, I did.” 

His rumbling laugh sounded down the line. “Finished being a brat?” 

“Yeah, I think I’m done,” she chirped, “and my day was great, I lay in until 9am and then went for a run, came back and cleaned my house, did all the shit I’ve been putting off. How are you?” 

“Sore,” he confessed, his entire body on fire. “I upped my weights today. I’m benching one eighty now.” 

Her eyes nearly fell out. Now wonder he was the size he was. It blew her mind to think anyone could lift that sheer amount of weight, especially given the hilarity of her and Nina struggling between them to offload a thirty-kilogram box recently, full of tattoo shop supplies.

“Fuck me!” 

He couldn’t help himself. “I will in two weeks.”  

Two weeks. Fourteen days from then and come 8am on Tuesday the eighteenth of June, and she’d be watching him walk towards her as a free man. “Bad man.” 

“Yeah, I will be. For all of twenty seconds.”  

She threw her head back, laughing hard at his repetitive joke over the likely state of his performance. “I’m sure it’ll be longer than that.” 

“Mm,” he hummed, “twenty-five? I don’t like my odds, baby. I’m overly pent up and you’re very sexy. They’re stacked against me, y’know?” 

Baby. He’d never called her that before, Erika grinning so hard, her cheeks ached. That, plus the low, smooth gravel of his cadence had her sparking deliciously. “I’d settle for twenty-five, just to have you between my legs right now. Until then, I’ll have to settle for my hand.” 

She began to giggle, Lucas closing his eyes tightly. “You’re not, are you?” 

“I am,” she spoke, switching the phone over to her right hand, her left pushing into her shorts. “You’ve made me horny.”  

“Erika,” he rasped low through his laughter. “You can’t do this to me. They might not monitor our calls, but motherfuck, I can’t fucking hide the erection I’m gonna get right in front of another, one, two, three... five fucking guys out here all using the phones right now. Damn, you’ll be the death of me.” 

“Okay, fine. I’ll stop.”  

Unfortunately, she’d already burned the image in his brain of her lying there, touching herself. It wasn’t easy to shake either, feeling his cock beginning to twitch. “Tell me something very, very unsexy. Quickly.” 

“Imagine you’re getting the best blowjob of your life, and you turn on the light and it’s the demon in The Exorcist.” 

“I might be partial to Pazuzu, you don’t know this,” he teased. 

“Okay, how about the creepy old fella from Family Guy?” 

Instantly, a remedy had been delivered. “Oh yeah, that’ll do it,” he replied, making a repelled noise, coupled with a shudder. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime.”  

All joking and playfulness aside, they continued to catch up with one another, mostly speaking of his impending release.  

“Oh, Alex said he wanted to meet you, so I gave him the name of your shop and he’s gonna stop by on Saturday at some point. I hope that’s okay?” 

Meeting Alex Nicklasson in the flesh, such an amazing guitarist she admired just as much as she did Lucas. “Tell him I might have a bit of a fangirl moment, but yeah, that’s fine.” 

He chuckled, imagining it. Erika was so cool in the way she carried herself, very confident, but he knew from his own experience that yes, she did have the tendency to sometime fly into a bit of a panic. When meeting former bassist for the band Shining, she’d stood on mute for a good ten seconds, so she’d recounted to him, so in awe she was to be standing in front of Christian Larsson.  

Knowing that he would be showing up, she supposed it was time to reveal to her other friends at the all-female tattoo shop the reason for his visit, so it didn’t hit Nicki, Carrie and Britt like a bolt from the blue.  

The girls usually all met up to order in breakfast and eat together before the Painted Lady Tattoo opened at 10am, the Tuesday following their day off being no different. It was then that Erika chose to reveal her news, being met by various different opinions over it. 

“I love you, dude, I do, but I think you’re insane,” Carrie spoke with her usual bluntness, the Australian native not looking thrilled by the idea. “I’m sure you’re right and he has changed, but I couldn’t get past it, what he did. I remember reading into the case a while after it happened. It was horrific. You do you, though, I’m not about to tell you how to live your life.”  

“I think he deserves a chance,” Britt spoke, her nature much softer than that of her fellow artist. “We all make mistakes and yeah, his was a helluva big one, but I trust the fact you’ve always had excellent intuition over people.” Her lips then curved mischievously. “I mean, you know Nina is basically a housetrained crack head and we all trusted that before she began working here.” 

A blonde head immediately shot up from behind her station, the lady herself shaking a handful of paper towels from where she’d been cleaning up an ink spillage. “Screw you, girly!” 

“You wish,” Britt spoke, pulling her vest top to the side to reveal a bare boob. She wasn’t a fan of bras and didn’t need to be either, only being an AA cup size.  

“Don’t make me come over there and chomp on those lil’ beestings you’re calling tits!” 

Again, the boob was revealed. “I’m waiting, hon.”  

In the midst of the banter between the close circle of women, there was a third reaction to be given, Nicki, the shop’s admin assistant who ran the front desk and kept everything organised, composing her laughter to weigh in. 

“I’m with Britt, too,” she began. 

“You would be,” Carrie snorted, “The Hanged are one of your favourite bands. I smell bias.” 

“Yeah, yeah okay, alright I’ll give you that,” she nodded, sipping from her bottle of orange juice. “But I believe what he said in that article a few years ago. It’s not our place to hate him since what he did didn’t directly affect any of us, did it? Pieter Arneson’s relatives are a different matter, but not us. It’s none of our business, and if he’s truly sorry for his actions, then who are we to judge?” 

Nicki often did come out with wisdom that far surpassed her youth, being the youngest member of the team at just eighteen years old. 

“I respect the differing opinions, and all I say is just to give him a chance. This leads to why I’m specifically telling you all now, but you have to swear to me not to breathe a word to anyone.” They all held up their hands in pledge to honour that request. “He’s being released in two weeks. I won’t be here on the eighteenth, since he wants me to go and pick him up.”  

“Twelve years for murder? Wow,” Carried scoffed. “Sorry, I know you guys do things differently over here, but if he’d been in Australia, he’d have gotten way longer.” 

“I think he could have still over here as well, right, Erika?” Britt asked, “But they didn’t think they’d be able to get that sentence because of the circumstances?” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s correct,” she confirmed, taking another small bite out of her pistachio pastry. “If it had been premeditated and they hadn’t had been high as balls when they did it, they’d easily be serving life sentences.”  

“What about Nils?” Nicki questioned, her eyes widening a little.  

She shrugged, sniffing. “No idea. According to Alex, that’s Alex Nicklasson, by the way, he’s apparently finally shown remorse for it, but I don’t know how things stand with his release. Oh, he’s coming down to the shop this Saturday, just so you know. Lucas told me that he wanted to call in and meet me prior to him getting out.”  

“Cool, awesome. He always seemed a nice fella from interviews and whatnot,” Carried chimed, certainly a lot more accepting over Alex having a presence in Erika’s life than she was regarding Lucas.  

“Can’t comment, you know I can’t abide the loud stuff.” 

“Or modern, you old hippie,” Erika teased softly.  

“Hey! Less of the old. I might be fifty-five, but I’m fucking fabulous with it.” True, while Britt didn’t listen to much music created after her birth year of 1970, within the city of Stockholm, you had to be living under a rock never to have heard The Hanged.  

“And I think I might die on the spot!”  

Of course, Nicki would have that reaction. When Saturday eventually rolled around, though, the way she physically reacted when Alex arrived at the shop was next level.  

Erika was on her way to the counter when she heard the front door alarm sound, signalling the entrance of Alex. Nicki had been standing behind that counter, too, yet as soon as she’d seen him, there had been somewhat of a vanishing act.  

Leaning over the counter, Erika raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “What’s all this for?” 

“I’m panicking!” 

God, she was too cute. “Nicki, you knew he’d be visiting,” she teased, watching her huffing back panicked breaths.  

“I know but now he’s right there and I don’t know what to do and I feel like I’m going to pass out and oh my god is it too early for gin?” she gabbled all at once, Erika very entertained by it, turning to where he was making his way to her. Somehow, though, Nicki’s meltdown had made her own nervous excitement to meet a very famous musician dissipate, looking on as Alex pointed at her.  

“Erika, hi, hi! Handshake or hug?” 

Immediately, his good energy set her completely at ease. “I can do hugs, I’m good for that!”  

“Nice to meet you, darling,” he spoke, wrapping her in a little cuddle and kissing her cheek. “I feel like I know you already with the amount ole’ baldie has been chewing my damned ear off about you!” 

Oh, he was lovely. Just as Lucas had assured her. “I’m sure he’s thrilled about you calling him baldie,” she spoke, her sarcasm soft. 

“It’s his fault, making himself look like an outlaw. Looks like even more of a fucking convict now than he did when he went in!” he laughed. “He’s gone from Chewbacca because of all his hair to baldie since he shaved it off. Can’t fault him for doing it, though. You know why he did, don’t you?” She shook her head. “Donated it to a charity who make wigs for kids with cancer. Had to do it anonymously, though, because of the whole stigma over who he is.”  

Erika felt her heart flutter. No, he hadn’t told her that, but then again Lucas wasn’t the type to be boastful about his good deeds. “No, no he didn’t tell me.” 

“Yeah, the prison ran something way, way back a couple of years into his sentencing, so he lost the mane. I walked right past him when I visited, didn’t expect to be turning up to visit a snooker ball.”  

The snort of laughter his words pulled from her, Alex moving a little further around the counter out of the way of a client returning from using the bathroom. That’s when he caught sight of Nicki, still hiding, pointing while raising a questioning eyebrow. “She okay?” 

Her immediate hand flapping was very much to the contrary of okay. “Oh god, I’m going to pass out!” 

He laughed hard, shaking his head. “Oh, man.” 

“You have quite the mega fan of The Hanged down here,” Erika explained, reaching for the still squatted admin assistant, hauling her up. “Alex, this is Nicki. Nicki, time to put your big girl pants on.” 

“Hi, Nicki. Would a hug make you feel better, or am I just going to make things a thousand times worse?” 

The hand flapping only gained further momentum. “Hug please!”  

Her squeak had him cooing softly as he laughed, opening his arms, Nicki looking both stunned and thrilled as she was embraced. “I think you’re amazing!” 

“Yeah, I kinda got that, darling. It’s nice to meet you.” 

More squeaking followed, Nicki eventually calming down a little enough to talk to him briefly before quickly ducking out for a cigarette break. While she did, Alex went and introduced himself to the other girls, viewing what they were working on and offering sincere compliments before sitting down with Erika at her empty station.  

“Sorry, sorry!” she immediately shook herself with. “Do you want a drink or anything?” 

He smiled, shaking his head. Just like Lucas had revealed, she was very sweet. “Nah, I’m good, darling. I just drank a boatload of coffee before I arrived here,” he assured her, moving his long wallet chain so it didn’t keep rattling against the seat. “So, here I am, meeting the woman who’s made my boy so fucking happy. Tell me more about yourself. I’ve probably already heard it from him, but it’d be cool to hear it firsthand, too.” 

She gave him the abridged version of her life, sharing little facts like attending art college while pursuing her goal to become a tattoo artist, being taken on as an apprentice at eighteen. With a few years of travelling around Sweden under her belt, she and Nina, whom she’d met working in a shop in Gothenburg, returned to Stokholm and started up their all-female shop four years ago that coming autumn.  

“I like that, the determination to start your own place,” he spoke, looking around at the brightly decorated surroundings. “Women doing it for themselves and all that, too. More power to ya! I confess, I didn’t even know this place existed, but then I live in Östermalm, so I’m not up this way very often, even though it isn’t far. Hugo Reiss does all of my stuff, but I could be open to cheating on him where I have space left.” Gesturing to his heavily inked skin, he barked a laugh. “Not that I have much of it!” 

“I recognised his work,” she began, pointing to his forearms. “I did a six-month stint at his shop a while back. Hugo is cool, I like him. One of the other guys there is a huge pervert, though, so that’s why I left,” she replied, speaking fondly of the German expat she counted as an acquaintance.  

Alex’s eyes revealed immediate recognition. “Oh, Oscar. Yeah, Hugo fired him about four years ago because of him sleazing on the female clientele. No matter how talented the guy is, it wasn’t worth keeping him on.” 

That was roughly around the time she left, Erika unsurprised to hear Oscar hadn’t lasted for long after her departure.  

Continuing to chatter about life, art and music, their conversation eventually wound back to Lucas, Erika’s client present with them at that point. While she zoned out with her headphones on, she and Alex continued their discussion. 

“How’d ya think he’ll adjust to living in the outside world again?” he asked, thanking Nicki when she brought him a cup of coffee. After smelling the machine brewing, he couldn’t resist requesting one.  

Adding more shading around the huge cluster of tropical plants she was working on, Erika added more ink to the needles, wiping her brow on the back of her forearm. Summer was there, and while the shop had adequate air conditioning, it was still hot with the sunshine streaming in from the large windows. 

“I think you’d be in a better position to answer that question, since you knew him before, and I’ve only known him while he’s been incarcerated.” 

That was fair, he guessed. “I think he’ll be okay, you know. I kinda worry about how the public will perceive him, especially since he wants to get the band back together, so any low profile he’ll have won’t last for long. I guess a plus he has it that he looks so fucking different to how he did when he went in. Dude’s the size of a goddamned silverback!” 

Erika laughed softly, knowing that well. “Yeah, much like you, when I first visited him, I didn’t recognise him at all. I was trying to pick out the tall, skinny guy with all the long hair, and then this big dude stands up and I’m like, oh my fuck!” 

Alex rumbled a laugh full of mirth. “Yeah, he told me the first time he saw ya in the flesh, his dick almost backfired.”  

She had to pause then, wheeling herself away from her client, her explosion of giggles slightly embarrassed, Alex booming with laughter at her reaction.  

“I dunno how a dick backfires exactly, but it’s been a long time for the dude. Anything is possible!” he continued to laugh, Erika further descending. He was funny, and she liked it. God, he was such a nice guy, too. It really solidified it for her, that had Lucas not gotten so wrapped up in the darker side of theistic Satanism along with Nils and stuck closer to Alex, none of it would have happened.  

“Oh, I wanted to ask ya too. I was thinking of having a get together for him. Not for a week or so, since he said he just wants to get home and relax, get used to life on the outside again. What do you think? Wanna help me arrange something?” 

She really loved that, being asked her opinion on things, Alex obviously counting her as somebody important enough to Lucas in wanting to hear her thoughts. “I suppose he isn’t going to want it to be at a bar, since he can’t drink for the first six months of his release,” she commented.  

Lucas had revealed he’d be subject to random drug and alcohol tests, although quite surprisingly and happily, he wouldn’t be electronically tagged like he once thought he might be. “I’d say we could have a get together at my place, but it’s so tiny, so I dunno, maybe a lunch or dinner somewhere lowkey?” 

“Yeah, I like that. Good idea, darling.” he confirmed. The two discussed it more before Alex had to get moving, explaining he had a date that evening to prepare for.  

A date. How Erika couldn’t wait until she had one of those to go on with Lucas. Two weeks. Just two weeks, and she’d get to. The days truly couldn’t pass quickly enough. 

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[saltyunicorn079]

I finally made it to read!

Love the fun vibe of the shop. I like Alex! He seems to be a solid dude. Puts me at ease that Lucas might be alright. Can’t wait to see how he is on the outside and how he and Alex interact.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Cast of Characters.

People always love when I do these, so I've done one for this new series, too! More to be added as the characters come into the story.

Erika Lestander - Leading female OC

Lucas Borgström - Leading male OC, vocalist/bassist for The Hanged

Alex Nicklasson - Lead guitarist for The Hanged

Nils Ekenberg - Drummer for The Hanged

Nina Bennett - Erika's best friend and business partner

Britt Ahlm - Tattoo Artist at Painted Lady Tattoo

Carrie Steen - Tattoo artist at Painted Lady Tattoo

Nicki Jonsson - Admin assistant at Painted Lady Tattoo

Svea Borgström - Lucas's sister

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - Chapter Two.

Guys, when I tell you I was elated at your response to this story! Thank you so much to everyone who read and offered such kind feedback. ILY <3

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 3,271

Previous Chapters - One

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

That voice. She’d once heard someone liken Lucas’s voice to a ripsaw shredding through a led pipe, that guttural, gravelled roar sending an illicit shiver down her spine every time she heard it. Listening to Warfare, the highly acclaimed debut album by The Hanged, Erika still couldn’t quite believe that he was just fourteen and fifteen years old when he wrote it, sixteen when he’d recorded it and seventeen when he’d toured with it.  

They’d been babies, still, just kids up there on the stage. She remembered well from going to see them live, just a kid herself of thirteen at the time after pleading with her parents to allow her to attend the gig. There he’d been up on stage, this tall, fresh-faced boy, but with a roar like something hell had spat out for being too hostile.  

Oh, how she’d wanted to try and get backstage to meet them, but couldn’t on account of her father looming like an albatross, Lasse parked up in his Land Rover to the side of the venue, waiting to take her and her friend's home. Now here she was seventeen years later, driving out to Södertälje in order to meet the man himself for the first time.  

To say she was nervous was an understatement.  

It was a typically cold February morning, yet to prevent her anxious sweats, Erika had the air conditioning on full pelt, her coat slung into the back seat of her car. She was tired, finishing late at work the previous evening, going home to sit at her laptop, eating her favourite girl dinner of various cheeses and sliced meats while indulging herself in a little time with Lucas. 

What that meant to her was watching old interviews with him and parts of the DVD from their last tour prior to his and Nils’s incarceration. God, he’d been so funny, such a live wire of a guy. One of her favourites was a scene she found herself backtracking a few times, him and their lead guitarist Alex meeting a female fan backstage who’d been quite overcome in their presence. 

“Oh, I think I’m going to faint! Hi!” 

“Breeze!” Lucas had shouted, looking around. “The woman needs breeze!” He’d then looked to Alex. “Pass me that. Here, I got you. Breeze via Terroriser magazine, there you go, we’ve got a draft going now!” he’d chirped, fanning the by then giggling woman with a rapid flourish of the publication in his hands. “You good now? Don’t faint on me, girl!” 

She’d told him how much the entire thing had made her cry laugh in a letter, Lucas revealing in his reply that he remembered that night well. Perhaps, though, his penned recollection wasn’t quite so humorous. To him, at least.  

So yeah, I ended up taking her to the tour bus and having sex with her. It was going great, until she suddenly got a wave of drunken nausea and threw up all over my chest while she was riding me. Thank fuck the venue had a shower, but shit, my bunk wasn’t salvageable at all! Had to sleep in the seats at the front until our management could get some mobile valet guys to come and deep clean it!! 

The second part of the video offerings that never failed to have her in fits was the scene cut from an interview, again of Lucas and Alex – a renowned double act if ever there was one – speaking to a journalist in Düsseldorf. 

“I like it here in Germany,” the latter had spoken enthusiastically, “you have great beer and even better women!” A small rumble of laughter had sounded from various people in the space, Alex continuing. “Not that any of them want my wiry ass, they all go for this motherfucking pretty boy right here!” 

The camera had then panned over to Lucas, who’d puckered his lips and pulled up his t shirt with a lascivious smirk. “Look at him! If he wore enough lipstick, I’d probably fuck him, too!” Alex had then exclaimed, everyone in hysterics as he’d grabbed Lucas’s head and promptly licked his cheek.  

“Give me enough of this good German beer, and man, I might let you.” He’d chimed, both of them in utter fits of booming laughter. 

Erika had sighed hard then, thinking that perhaps if he’d remained as close to Alex as he’d been at that point, he might have escaped the dark path he and Nils were fated to tread upon. How different things might have been for him, had he not fell headlong into Nils's ominous orbit.  

Alex was a good guy, she could tell that just from watching him on video, and of course from Lucas’s stories. Nils, she tended to agree with others over. There was something inherently dark about the man, but she could only hope that as Alex had revealed while visiting Lucas, the seeds of change had been firmly planted within the once deeply disturbed young man. 

Putting the thoughts of her viewing a time gone by to rest, she focused on the drive, moving from the highway to the narrower roads leading up to Anstalten prison. It was mind boggling to her, that she was just over half an hour away from meeting Lucas for the very first time, her heart beginning to race rapidly in her chest. 

Pulling up in the seemingly endless concrete of the car park, she cut the engine and climbed out, taking a few deep breaths before walking over to the visitor's entrance of the prison.  

“Oh my fuck, oh my fuck I’m actually here!” she whispered, reaching the door and being granted entrance after buzzing in. Upon her arrival inside, she had to check in with the warden on the desk, show her ID and stand aside, ready to be searched before being allowed further into the facility.  

Standing with her legs and arms spread, she was patted down, a second warden thoroughly examining the contents of her bag. It was a thorough search, her boots removed to check within, Erika also having to open her mouth wide and show beneath her tongue, too, her hair lifted and searched through as well.  

God, the numerous ways contraband could be smuggled in. She’d never even think to hide something in her hair, should she had been that way inclined.  

“Buttons.” 

She gaped a little at the warden’s statement. “Excuse me?” 

Nodding downwards, he didn’t miss a beat. “Your buttons. You’re about to walk into a room full of sex-starved inmates. Do them up.”  

Oh. Immediately, her cheeks flushed, hands moving quickly to fasten the buttons of her dress. She felt naive and out of place, having a few other visitors titter with laughter at her expense. The shame of it. There wasn’t much time for that shame to manifest itself further, though, she and the rest of the visitors called for, all filing through the heavily reinforced doors of the prison and into a long, white painted corridor. 

It looked very sterile within, and it was much quieter than she had been expecting, the warden gesturing to the wide double doors that lead to the visiting room. Her heart began to jackrabbit strongly then, walking in and immediately glancing around the room for him.  

Lucas was distinct enough to spot, being close to two metres tall, heavily tattooed and with a mane of waist length, dark blonde hair. With every man whose visage she scanned, though, she failed to match them to the mental picture of him.  

He would have changed, of course, being that he was just twenty-two when he was incarcerated and almost thirty-four now, but still, where on earth was he? Had she gotten the wrong day? No, she couldn’t have. They’d have told her when she checked in. Panic rapidly began to set in before suddenly... 

“Erika.”  

Stopping in her tracks, she turned to her right to see the form of a huge, shaven headed man with a neat, dark blonde beard rise to his feet. Good fucking lord. That was Lucas? 

Looking at him and trying hard not to begin salivating, she wagered he’d likely spent most of his sentence sequestered in the prison gym. To say he was stacked would be an understatement; the formerly rail thin young man had gained about thirty kilograms in thick, hulking muscle.  

“Hiya! Shit, I um, I didn’t... shit, you look different!” she floundered, his wide smile and rumbling chuckle somewhat setting her at ease, but doing little to slow down the accelerated thundering of her heart. He’d been stunningly handsome in his early twenties, but now? God alive. “Can I give you a hug? Am I allowed to?” 

He nodded, opening his arms. “You are. Only a little one, though.”  

Did little hugs truly exist with that much man?! 

Before she could feel her insides whittle themselves away into further nervous chaos, she was embraced, those two powerful arms wrapping her in a hug. As a tall girl, she rarely felt small, but there in Lucas’s strong, yet gentle embrace she felt truly tiny. To touch him, smell him, oh. It felt better than she was expecting. 

“How fucking dare you come here looking so hot, and I can’t even give you more than this.” His lips met her cheek in a briefly pressed kiss, Erika feeling herself spark. “Seriously, you’re even more of a knockout than your pictures showed. Why the hell are you here to see me?” 

He put her at ease instantly with his charming humour, yet she still found herself the victim to her own nervous floundering. Placing her bag down on the chair, she then sat on it, shooting back up to move it, making him snort with laughter.  

“Don’t be so nervous, I might be a fucking murderer but I’m not that scary anymore.” 

Oh, but it wasn’t because of that. 

“I’m not, it isn’t that,” she began, winding her hands around before lacing her fingers together to stop herself. God, she’d turned into Nina! “It’s just... meeting you for the first time. I know you’re my friend and I feel like I know you...” 

“Right, and you do know me, so calm down,” he kindly interjected with. 

“But you’re still one of my favourite musicians, and I confess, I had a bit of a fangirl moment!”  

From the way she was looking at him, he knew that wasn’t strictly all it was, but he was too nice to mention it. Besides, he had his own reaction to seeing her in the flesh for the first time to placate. He would be taking one hell of a cold shower, come the end of the visit. Wow.  

He could tell that her nerves were still jumping within, wishing he could reach for her hand in an effort to steady them. It might have the opposite effect, for both of them, though. Instead, he chose to steady her through his words. 

“Tell me about the tattoo convention, then. How’d it all go?” Engaging her in something she knew she exuded confidence over would surely do the trick, and it did, Lucas watching as her shoulders loosened a little. 

“It was so good!” she enthused, her eyes lighting up. “I felt like my hand was going to fall off after three full days of tattooing back-to-back. My feet hurt like hell with all the walking around and networking in the time between that, but it was great!” It was so surreal to her, Lucas Borgström in the flesh, sitting right across from her. Asking about her life!  

His smile widened, and she felt like sunshine was gilding her tummy. Oh, the man was knockout handsome. “I’m pleased for you! Did you get any good contacts? I know you told me in your last letter you wanted to maybe travel, so a few guest spots here and there?” he asked. “Oh, and how’s Nina’s foot now? She okay?” 

That touched her, that he’d remembered her mentioning Nina and her broken foot fiasco. “She’s in less pain, but pissed off about the big boot she has to wear. And yeah, I did. I managed to organise a three-week spot in Essex in the U.K two months from now, with an artist named Jason Butcher, who I love.” 

Ahhh, the common ground they had there, Lucas rolling up his t shirt sleeve and pointing to the large tattoo beneath. “Jason did my Odin for me, managed to get in with him towards the end of our first U.K tour. I wish he’d done a whole lot more, because look at all of this embarrassing crap I have on me.” He began to shake his head, pointing at various etchings on his two full sleeves. “Like that, and that! Oh, fuck, you have to cover that for me eventually, please!” 

What he pointed to was the large, black, inverted pentagram on his inner elbow, a sigil she knew well he no longer aligned himself with. While he had no issue with the branch of Satanism he’d once favoured, after what had happened, it was something he wanted to leave behind in its entirety. He was happy to commit to agnosticism nowadays. 

She couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him at all for such a stance. “Yeah, yeah I can cover that, no issue. Maybe completely black it out and then once healed, I can go over it with something in white ink?” 

He clicked his fingers, pointing at her. “That, yeah! Let’s do that, I trust you, just draw me something you think I’d like. You have roughly four months, so get on it.” He winked then, Erika’s eyes widening. “Remember how I said there was talk of me getting out earlier? They’re putting me up for early release come June, since I will have served two thirds of my original sentence. Apparently, I’ve been a model inmate, so fingers crossed I might be a free man come summer.” 

Clapping her hands together with joy, all she wanted in that moment was to reach across the table and hug him again. With the ever-watchful eye of the prison wardens, though, and only minimal physical contact allowed, she lamentably had to rein it in. “Lucas! This is huge, I’m so fucking happy for you!” 

He nodded, smiling, yet the smile didn’t reach his eyes fully. “Yeah, yeah I am, too. I just... fuck. Do I even deserve it? Twelve years doesn’t feel like enough time for taking a life, y’know?” 

She sighed, cocking her head. “Look how much you’ve changed in the time between,” she began, the light earnestness in her voice making his heart flutter for a moment. To be seen as anything but a murdering monster was something he’d worked very, very hard to accomplish.  

The fact that the woman he knew he was developing truly real feelings for saw it honestly elated him. Erika really was just as sweet as she’d seemed in her letters and on the telephone. “You did something horrific a very long time ago, but the man sitting in front of me now, he isn’t that guy, and he doesn’t want to be that guy ever again. I see that, I really do, and I think anyone truly important to you will see it, too.” 

He shrugged, the cold, spiny prickle of guilt coiling through him. “Pieter’s family will think very much otherwise. I wouldn’t blame them for a second either, regardless of what his dear father eventually said about us.” 

Indeed, the courage and grace of Anders Arneson had been surprising, when five years previously he had stated in an interview that in order to move on from the pain of losing his son, he forgave Pieter’s murderers. “They were still kids themselves, not much older than my son. Just like my Pieter, so wrapped up in the drug culture as well, and in this extreme darkness. I believe they lost their way, as youngsters often do. For that, I forgive them.” 

Lucas had confided in her that he’d cried, after reading those words, not convinced at all he deserved to ever be forgiven for his part in it at all.  

“Listen,” she began softly, looking around for warden eyes before reaching to gently and quickly cup his cheek. It was an action that acted like an immediate balm to him, her words even more so. “If Anders Arneson can forgive you, and legions of your fans still stand behind you, then trust me, you deserve forgiveness. You’ve atoned, you’ve taken full responsibility, and you’ve lost twelve years of your life paying that debt. You deserve your freedom.” 

He smiled, winking. “Having you especially tell me that means so much, really. Your letters and phone calls have kept me going. I don’t think you truly realise how important to me you’ve become, Erika. You see past the monster I used to be.” 

He appreciated her words more than she could ever realise, feeling the warmth and tenderness that he’d ached for, but had eluded him for so long. The world outside the prison walls seemed less daunting with Erika there to receive him as a free man, a beacon of hope in his otherwise darkened existence.  

She saw the good in him, the potential for redemption that he struggled to believe himself worthy of. As they sat together in the harshly lit visitation room, the future seemed less like a distant dream and more like an attainable reality.  

Her unwavering support and belief in his transformation filled the void that guilt and regret had carved into his soul. He could never thank her enough for that. Lamentably, though, the hour visit he had with her ticked by much too quickly, rising to his feet to give her another hug, one he struggled to part from.  

“Thank you so much for coming to see me,” he spoke, wishing he could meld himself to her, leave the prison with her. Four months; it wasn’t long, but at the same time it felt like an eternity. “I’d say come back next week, but Alex is visiting. I should cancel it, really, tell him he’s been replaced by a really sweet, pretty girl I’d much rather be in the company of.”  

She threw her head back, laughing softly. “I can visit the week after?”  

His thumbs skimmed the sides of her waist as he reluctantly pulled from their hug, nodding. “I’ll look forward to it.” He then glanced around, noticing a few warden’s eyes roving over him. “Ahh, fuck it.” Leaning to her, he pressed his lips to hers, beaming in the aftermath. 

“Lucas, dial it back.” one of them called. Erika was glad that he hadn’t, feeling her insides fizz.  

“Worth it,” he spoke, winking. “See you in two weeks, beautiful.”  

She walked out of that prison on a happy little cloud, although it did have somewhat of a grey lining to it. How she wished he was leaving it with her. With some inmates incarcerated in the prison system of their country, home release prior to their actual freedom was permitted, the prisoners allowed to return home for a few weekends in the run up to their release in order to integrate back into their lives.  

With Lucas, he’d been told that such was not permissible. Sixteen weeks until his freedom, though? Truly, it was little time at all. After such a long period of growing close to him via letters and phone calls, she would gladly take that.  

Whether her excitement would reach critical mass or not in the time between was entirely another story, though! 

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[saltyunicorn079]

I’m feeling so anxious about this! They really are sweet together! But don’t fall for a guy doing time! I wanna believe in him, but what will he be like outside? And I know you like to make things difficult for your babies, so I know this won’t be easy on them. Something is coming, I know it. It is like a specter over their shoulder.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - An Original Story.

Well, here we are, guys. A brand new original. I know that so many of you aren't here for this, but maybe give me a chance? I've tagged a couple of people who have been on board with my previous originals, too. No pressure if you're not feeling it, and if you do want to be tagged, please let me know.

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 5,453

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

In the world of rock and metal music, numerous artists distinguish themselves from their peers. This distinction is often due to their exceptional talent; however, in certain cases, it arises from actions that are considerably less commendable. 

Jim Gordon, 70’s rock musician and one-time drummer for Alice Cooper, murdered his own mother in schizophrenic meltdown. Varg Vikernes, sole member of Burzum and former member of Mayhem, murdered founder and former friend Øystein Aarseth in cold blood, to name but two infamous slayings.  

In 2013, the alternative music world was rocked once again by a horrific case that shook residents of Stockholm and beyond to their core, the brutal murder of a nineteen-year-old man committed by two of its most prolific young musicians. 

“In the criminal case that rocked the municipality of Solna, the accused men at the forefront of the Solna Satanic murder were sentenced earlier today. Lucas Borgström, twenty-two and co-defendant Nils Ekenberg, twenty-four, were each handed eighteen years for the brutal slaying of nineteen-year-old Pieter Arneson. The men, known for their unrepentant devotion to their Satanic beliefs as well as their roles in popular heavy metal band The Hanged, showed little emotion as sentencing was passed. 

The case, which has drawn intense scrutiny and public outrage, highlighted the dark undercurrents in the seemingly tranquil suburb. Families of the victim and the accused were present, their faces etched with a mix of relief, sorrow, and disbelief as the verdict was read. Outside the courthouse, a crowd had gathered, some holding candles in a vigil for Pieter Arneson, while others protested the sentence, claiming it was too lenient.  

The trial will undoubtedly be remembered as a chilling chapter in the Solna's history.” 

In the aftermath of the news coverage, the trial over and all involved ready to begin picking up the pieces, the internet community at large continued to voice opinion over the case.  

“Eighteen years??? For what they did, that’s fucked up!” 

“Apparently, eighteen years is all the prosecution were seeking, given that they couldn’t prove Lucas and Nils had premeditated the murder. Especially since the defence weighed so heavily on the fact that both of them were high as fuck on various drugs when they stabbed him to death.” 

“Oh, come on! Doesn’t matter how fucking high they were. Listen to their music, man. There are multiple references to human sacrifice. It was only a matter of time. They’re rotten, evil fucking scumbags. RIP Pieter.”  

“The news report saying they showed little emotion is a flat-out lie. I was there. Nils laughed, and Lucas smirked and threw up the horns, muttering ‘hail, my dark lord’ as he was taken away. They should be getting life. Neither are sorry for what they did to that poor guy.”  

“I used to know them really well way back in the day. Nils has always been somewhat dark underneath seeming like a good dude (sociopath?) but Lucas? I think Nils pulled him into it further, into the Satanism and the drugs. He was a nice guy, seriously. Yeah, he could be loud and chaotic, loved to party and have a good time, but half the shit about him out there is untrue.”  

“His ex-girlfriend who claimed he tried to stab her? Untrue. She was bitter because he left her for my friend Brigitte, and that’s the goddamned truth from Brigitte herself. She was just out for cash when she sold that story to the press! 

People saying he tortured animals, too? No fucking way. As soon as he ever arrived at my house, he’d crack open a beer and head straight for my pet rat’s cage, get them out and let them climb all over him and nest in his hair. He always loved animals. There was something really gentle about him in that way. He was such a good, nice guy. I hate what he ultimately became, though, because it isn’t him.” 

“Gentle?! Dude, fuck off. The man carved a fucking inverted pentagram into Pieter’s corpse and then painted his own body in Satanic sigils before threatening to murder everyone else at that house party. The guy is a fucking psycho. That’s who he is. It took four cops to bring him down after he and Nils left the house, running after that poor girl who escaped and called the police, trying to kill her, too. He fucking bit one of the officer’s ears off before they tazed the shit out of the douchebag.” 

Indeed, not many people could see past the horrific crimes of Lucas Borgström, regardless of opinions to the contrary. To many, he was nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer. A hardened drug addict hellbent on a path that ruined what was a very promising career, his band The Hanged once a huge name in the world of heavy metal.  

Even the band's most loyal fans were left grappling with the dissonance between the image of the charismatic, gregarious frontman they adored and the monster he became. His descent into darkness was a cautionary tale that reverberated through the heavy metal community, a stark reminder of how drugs and a toxic influence could warp a person beyond recognition.  

The trial and its aftermath left the band in shambles, their music equally tainted and exalted by the shadow of the drummer and frontman’s crimes. Friends and family who once cherished them were forced to reconcile with a gruesome reality, as debates raged on about the nature of evil and the depths to which a human being could sink.  

While Nils very much remained unrepentant for his part in it, though, Lucas was a different matter. Free of the often-overbearing influence of his bandmate and clean of the drugs that had served as nothing more than a fuel to his mental decline into true darkness, he began to seek a better path upon which to follow.  

“Do I feel guilt for what I did? Of course, I fucking do. Every day. Would I have done what I did if I hadn’t been out of my skull on drugs? I’d like to say probably not, y’know. That guy who murdered an innocent man, he isn’t the same person who is sitting here before you today. People are capable of change. Through incarceration, I’m at least trying to atone for what I did, become a better person.”  

Not many were willing to believe the words he gave when a journalist visited with him nine years into his sentence, not many at all. However, there was one woman who was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. One woman who the name Lucas Borgström meant something very different to how he was so commonly perceived.  

The finger clicking. Even over the reasonably loud thrum of rock music coming through the speakers placed at each corner of the shop, Erika could hear the persistent clicks, preceding the arrival of she who could never stand still unless she was working.  

“So, are we out tonight, are we drinking, are we dancing?” Nina, her beloved best friend and business partner asked in her usual rapid fire. She could never solely present one question, a ball of energy that seemed to never cease in its rotation, a live wire of a person who exuded the kind of energy that left people exhausted merely to witness.  

She was never loud with it, but god alive, how the energy sparked bright.  

Looking up to where the British expat danced around on the spot, fingers still clicking, Erika paused, giving her client a well-earned break. “I’ll come for one, but I’m pretty tired.”  

The energetic twitching immediately stilled. “One? Excuse me, one drink? Oh, you fucking blasphemer! How dare you say this in the presence of a Friday night, girly!” 

“I know, I know, however...” 

A loud snort sounded. “No! No however! Where has my fun-loving, hard drinking little playmate gone? One drink? What a load of bollocks!” 

Sighing, Erika dipped the tattoo machine needle into more black ink, returning it to the huge backpiece of a mandala she was working her way through. “To use your British-ism, bollocks it may be, but my liver needs a break, dude.”  

Nina rolled her eyes dramatically, muttering something unflattering about weak constitutions, but Erika’s focus had already shifted back to her work. The hum of the tattoo machine provided a meditative rhythm, almost hypnotic, as intricate dots formed the weaving patterns under her skilled hand.  

She couldn't help but smirk at Nina's antics; the woman was relentless, but it was part of her charm. Letting out a small chuckle, her thoughts briefly drifted to the pull of wild nights and reckless abandon, only to be tugged gently back to the present by the vibration of the machine in her grasp.  

The song on the rock radio station then changed, giving her another little jolt. The Sigils of Seven, the title track from the second album by The Hanged, one of her all-time favourite bands. She might have been a little biased since the guys all hailed from the same place as her, the municipality of Solm, but their musical talent truly did precede any hometown loyalty. 

That loyalty was a somewhat fractured, though, twelve years on from the crime that had shaken Stockholm to its core.  

“Man, I used to love these guys,” her client spoke, shaking his head. “I try and separate art from artist, but it’s hard in this case.” 

A still-present Nina pointed right at him. “You have that right, my man! Jesus wept, I swear my mouth couldn’t have hung open wider when I found out what they’d done to that poor bloke!”  

“Yeah, yeah,” he began in agreement, looking in her direction as she pulled up a chair to his side. “I sort of want to be lenient in what I think, because of all the drugs and shit, but fuck. They’re not good people. Fucking psychos. Lucas especially.” 

It was at that point Erika had to physically bite her tongue, because for her, she knew very much differently to the common opinion. Not for Nils, but for Lucas, she could attest with great surety that he was far from a psychopath. How? Because she had been writing to him for the last three years, that was how.  

It had wounded her deeply, back when the murder had taken place and he and his bandmate had been subsequently arrested and sentenced. To know that a musician she admired and looked up to so much was capable of that kind of depravity had genuinely shaken her, the same as it had for many of their other fans, too.  

She simply couldn’t believe it, that a man who seemed an utter delight to be in the company of, often boisterous and hilarious in interviews, famed for being nothing but friendly and welcoming to his fans, had taken such a fall from grace. Despite fairly common opinion, Satanists were not all dark and evil people, Lucas certainly seeming to be far from it, regardless of the very much darker lyrical content of the band’s second album. 

“Satanism, to me, it’s about being your own god, y’know, just be peaceful with it, be a good person to be good, not because some imaginary sky daddy is going to reward or punish me if I am or if I’m not.  I don’t have intentions to fucking make sacrifices to a dark lord, drink blood and chant, yadda, yadda, yadda. None of that shit. I’m not a theistic Satanist.  

“Read up on it, man. It goes against the tenets of Satanism, the very first to be exact. One should strive to act with compassion and empathy toward all creatures in accordance with reason. There it is, there’s my fucking answer.” 

Just fourteen months on from that interview, where he’d been nothing contrary to his usual upbeat, well-spoken self, and he’d descended into the kind of darkness that Erika had assumed there to be no emergence from.  

He had gone from a young man on a path to what he described as clarity of thought, and a conscious desire to uphold the beliefs taught through The Satanic Temple, to a fully blown theistic Satanist, a sect with much differing beliefs in that they truly believed Satan to be a deity in which to praise and appease.  

The Satanic Temple merely used Satan as a symbol of pride, liberty and individualism. They did not believe in his existence nor praise him as a deity, never promoting the worship of he who many coined as their dark lord.  

By the time he was arrested, covered in the blood of the man who he’d jointly stabbed to death, it was fair to say that Lucas very much believed there was a dark lord to be worshipped, and a sacrifice made to. As Erika knew well, it was a regret that still plagued him greatly. He never made excuses for it either.  

Yeah, I was bent out of shape on drugs, too many drugs, drinking too much, yadda, yadda, yadda. I still let myself go down that path though, Erika. Still got pulled in by the darkness of something I should have opened my fucking eyes over. I know people blame Nils for how I turned out, but I’m not brainless, y’know? I could have told him no, and I didn’t. I’m responsible for my actions, and I take it fully on board, what I did to Pieter. 

That was what he had stated in one of the first letters where he’d truly opened up to her. An interview had been conducted by a journalist for a magazine feature on Scandinavian metal and the many instances of musicians themselves committing horrific crimes, upon after reading Erika had felt compelled to reach out to Lucas. 

What she had witnessed was a man who took full responsibility for his crimes and was trying hard to put himself on a better path. There was honest remorse within him, a desire to atone, a drive to show people he was more than the hideous act of violence he had once committed.  

I let a lot of people down. My family, my mom, sister and brother especially, my grandparents, my friends, my band and my fans. When I finally get out, I want to prove that I’m capable of change, show that I took full advantage of the excellent rehabilitation I’ve been given so far over my sentence. 

I can’t say I’d ever blame people for not allowing me that chance, though. My relationship with my mother is strained to this day, I know that Jacob (Bjornsson, former rhythm guitarist for The Hanged) will never speak to me again, and I know that a huge part of our fanbase will never forgive me either. 

 There’s a lot of motherfucking shit out there that isn’t fucking true about me, but what is, that’s enough to blacken my name forever. And I completely accept that. I would, however, love to be given a chance to prove common opinion wrong. 

She didn’t expect to receive a reply at all initially, so had been truly stunned to see a letter in her post box from him just over a week after mailing hers. Three years had passed since, and because of the common consensus over the man, she hadn’t told a soul of their burgeoning friendship, a friendship that if she was honest, was now becoming something more. 

Much more. 

It would have been a lie if she’d said she hadn’t been hesitant to send him a photograph of her at his request, but his reply had certainly been worth it. As well as unbelievable that the man her teenage self had lusted after so heavily thought what he did about her. 

Your picture? Damn. I think I might need to be on blood pressure medication, because you just sent it through the roof. You are stunning, Erika. Unbelievably stunning! 

“What are you grinning about?”  

Nina’s sharp chirp immediately sent the little Lucas-centred daydream she’d fallen into shattering to smithereens. “We’re talking about a vile, unrepentant murderer and you’re there, smiling like a loon?” 

“He isn’t unrepentant.” Oh, shit. The words slipped from her mouth before she even had time to hang onto them for dear life.  

Nina cocked her head. “And how would you know? You don’t honestly believe that bullshit he said in the article a while back, do you?” Erika’s pause spoke volumes. “Oh, my life. You do, don’t you?” Further silence, which only spurred the cogs in Nina’s mind to begin revolving further, as if fuelling her interrogation. “Why do you suddenly look so uncomfortable, matey?” 

Shit, shit, shit! Nina never let something go, and fuck, if she didn’t always see through any of Erika’s facades to conceal the truth. “I’ll talk to you later. Could you be a doll and fetch me a soda? I’m so thirsty.” 

One hour on from then, while they sat down within the cosy confines of The Churchill Arms there in Vasastan, a favourite since it was a British-themed pub and thus reminded Nina of home, Erika knew her time was up.  

“Listen, I need to confide in you, about earlier,” she began, sipping her beer. “The reason I looked uncomfortable when we were discussing Lucas Borgström is because of something I’ve been hiding from you. From everyone, in fact.”  

Immediately, Nina felt the pull of unrevealed gossip taking a firm swipe at her curiosity. “Then tell me! What is it? Did you know him or something, before he was sent down?” She gasped, reaching to clutch her forearms. “Where you the girl he was dating before he was banged up? I know she went into hiding after it all happened, so it isn’t out of the realms of possibility!” 

Of course, she expected the barrage of questions. It was nothing if not Nina’s way.  “No, no. I wasn’t. I didn’t know him then, but I do now. We’ve been writing to one another for the last three years, talking on the phone as well.” 

Erika had never witnessed the colour drain from somebody’s face before, not even when her dad had almost split his foot in half after an ill-fated DIY project involving a lump hammer. Sure enough, though, she saw it then, Nina losing the usual blush from her cheeks.  

“Why... why, why, why the hell are you communicating with a bloody murderer, mate? Why? And more than that, well, no. I don’t have more. Just why!”  

She expected it, the shock that seemed to be speeding through her friend like an out-of-control F1 vehicle. “Because after reading that interview he gave, the one you denounced as bullshit, I just felt compelled to, I dunno,” she began, shrugging as Nina’s intense gaze of disbelief prickled at her. “I was always a huge fan of his until the murder. Reading his words, though, I believed him, and I was right to. Honestly, dude. He’s not the same guy.”  

If aghast had a face, in that moment it was Nina Bennett. “How do you even know that, though? Bloody, bloody, bloody hell! Written letters and phone calls aren’t a marker for somebody’s true nature! He might just be playing you!” 

“For what end?” she asked, frowning a little. 

“I don’t flippin’ know, I’m not him! I’m not a murdering psychopath!” she spluttered, small droplets of her vodka and soda flecking the table. “All I know is that a man who contributed to murdering somebody via thirty-nine stab wounds, who then went on to carve an inverted pentagram on his victim’s chest, painted himself in his blood and then rucked with the coppers who turned up to arrest him is bad news!” 

Erika could feel herself winding tight, but pushed it down. In that moment, she chose to channel a little bit of Lucas, a man who had taught her that in the face of adversity, remaining calm was the best way to get your point across. If only Nina could actually speak to him, to see if for herself, how he wasn’t the same man any longer.  

“I think it’s fair to say that the mental clarity of somebody high on the cocktail of drugs he was, well, it was severely compromised.” Amphetamine, cocaine, PCP and alcohol were found in his system, according to the reports she’d read. How he was even able to stand up, let alone stab somebody to death was beyond her. “But he still makes no excuses for it. If he was truly as rotten to his core as many say that he is, surely, he wouldn’t be so admitting of that?” 

Her sweet Erika; she always saw the good in people first. It was something Nina cherished dearly about her friend, but in this instance saw as a huge red flag. “Ever thought it might be a facade, simply to get early release, be let out and then go on another rampage?” 

“No, no,” she replied staunchly, “because why would he choose incarceration all over again, doll? That’s just silly. He truly wants to make amends. Listen, he’s lost almost twelve years of his life. In fact, it actually is twelve years now if you count the time they were locked up prior to the case coming to trial. All he wants is to be free, see if he can resurrect his career and carry on with his life. He says that he expects people not to give him that chance, though, and he wouldn’t blame them if they don’t.” 

Her words were quite fair, Nina had to concede. It still left an unpleasant feeling creeping through her tummy, though. “So, have you ever been down to visit him, then?”  

It wasn’t out of the realms of possibility that she could, with Anstalten Hall prison being only a half hour drive away from Vasastan. “Not yet, no. It’s taken a while for us to build up the kind of trust and rapport with each other where I would actually want to meet him in the flesh, plus he was hesitant as well. He kept a lot of his visitations open for his mom to go and see him, but she never has. She’s too upset, still.” 

Nina nodded. “As any mother would be, yeah.” 

“However, he’s put me on his visitors list and I’m all set to go and meet him for the first time next week. I’m really looking forward to it, although I’m nervous as shit about it.” 

More nods followed. “As anyone would be, sitting across from a convicted murderer.” 

“No, no. It isn’t because of what he did,” she stated, her hand moving to her ponytail, beginning to weave her locks around her index finger. “It’s because... well...” Biting her lip, she looked out from beneath her lashes, taking a deep breath. “I like him, Nina. As in, more than a friend, like him. And it’s mutual. We have a connection; we really trust and respect one another.  

“Also, they don’t censor letters or phone calls, and so it’s fair to say things have begun to become a little flirty over the last few months, too. Well, flirty is putting it mildly. Sometimes, it’s downright spicy.”  

Watching her friend’s face fall, she knew revealing such wouldn’t be met with Nina’s usual sunshine. “Oh god, mate.” Reaching for her hands, she squeezed them, a line of concern pinching her brows tightly. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I really, really do. Look, I trust you, but I don’t trust him. I’m sorry, but I don’t. Also, where can this go? Are you prepared to wait for him for another six years?” 

“It might not be that long,” she revealed, “since a lot of prisoners are given early release if they’ve behaved well inside. I looked it up, it’s usually after two thirds of their time served. He mentioned the other day that it might be a reality for him, but he wasn’t certain just yet.” 

“Well, if it is, I think you should tread cautiously. Get to know him as a person on the outside before you go all in with him. Really, you have to be careful. He ain’t just some petty criminal; he’s a fucking murderer.”  

She crinkled her nose then, sighing, looking pained as she stroked Erika’s hands with her thumbs. “I have to admit it though, mate. It’s at odds with the desire in me as your bestie to get excited with you, because I can see it in you, that you’re over there having an “I like a guy” moment. I’m just scared because of who the guy is.”  

She paused, grimacing a little. “And regardless of that, I see it, the attraction. He is gorgeous, and insanely talented, but I feel bad saying that! I want to ask you things as well, have a good ole’ girly gossip, but it keeps hitting me that I shouldn’t because I don’t want to encourage something I’m not really on board with!” 

“Then ask me,” Erika stated simply, shrugging, releasing one of her hands to pick up her beer and take another swig. “Listen, people are multi-faceted, aren’t they? There’s a lot more to who Lucas is than the crime he committed. Much more. You’re not a bad person for wanting to hear things, just like I’m not a bad person for giving the man a chance.” 

Indecision seemed to continue coiling through the blonde-haired Brit, Nina holding up a finger and rising from her seat. A few minutes passed before she returned with another round, plus two shots on the tray she held.  

“I said I was only staying for one,” Erika moaned, although it was through a little smile. 

“Bollocks,” Nina huffed, taking the vodka soda, beer and two shots of tequila from the tray and placing them down. “You’re about to tell me about all the horny stuff you’re discussing with a bloody convict. I need another drink, so that means you do, too.” Lifting the shot glass, she clinked it against Erika’s, widening her eyes. “Bottoms up!”  

Once the shots were sunk, Nina cleared the glasses to the side of the table, drumming her hands off it rhythmically. “So, tell me. How’s the flirting been? What’s been said?” 

“You know, this and that,” she began, snorting with laughter at the eye roll she was given. Unless a little drunk, though, Erika wasn’t one to be overly brash or crude. Drunk Erika, though? She was a different animal. “Okay so he said that when I first sent him a picture of him, he had to go off and have a cold shower. One that didn’t solely extend to the purposes of washing.” 

“So, you’re the man’s wank fodder then, is what you’re telling me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” she revealed, snorting with laughter. “Apparently lots of girls have sent pictures to him, loads of letters basically hero praising him, but none of them stood out like I did. That was months before he even saw my picture, too. He said if he was free, he’d be dating me in a heartbeat. And, well... he said I shouldn’t make any plans once he’s released, because he’s going to need to take me to bed for at least a day.” 

Nina’s eyebrows rose immediately. “Well, yeah. The man has been like a monk for the last twelve years. Your poor little fanny is going to get a right battering!” She then regained a little of her reservation, pointing across the table. “I meant it though, that you shouldn’t go all in with him. So maybe don’t jump into bed with him right away and spend that day shagging like rabbits, hmm?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe. I dunno,” she hummed, finishing her beer and pulling the fresh glass closer to sip the foamy head. “Oh fuck, he made me laugh so much, though. He said not to expect anything too much from him because of course, it’s been twelve years since he last had sex. But, and I quote, he said I could expect to receive the greatest twenty seconds of my life the first time!” 

Nina couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her, hearing that. That little slice of very non-egotistical humour somewhat soothed her fears, although she knew beneath it, her concern for her friend and this man would continue to linger. “At least the bloke’s honest!” 

Truly, he’d been nothing but with her. Their conversation moved on, Erika staying for a third drink before she made her excuses and went home, Nina deciding to hook up with some other friends who were more inclined to make a night of it.  

Once back within her small, yet charming bungalow home, the first thing she did was check her post box, delighted to see a letter within from the object of her rapidly growing affections. Taking a shower and dressing in a comfy lounge set, she settled in with a cup of tea, ready to read.  

Hi beautiful! 

Fuck, I’m bored. Can’t leave my cell as the prison is on lockdown right now. A kid got shanked, survived it luckily but there’ve been going from cell to cell doing weapons searches. They just searched mine about a half hour ago, and we won’t be allowed to roam around until they’re done.  

Sometimes, I almost forget that it’s a prison until things like this happen. Like I’ve explained to you before, unlike so many other prison systems around the world, we’re treated really fairly in here. No dark cells, few liberties taken, yadda, yadda, yadda. We have it lucky. I don’t get why the young guys coming in here wanna rock the boat like that. They should just put their motherfucking heads down and do their time, y’know? All this gang bullshit is fucked.  

Anyway, how are you? How did it go with that client who kept cancelling, how did she take it that you were still charging for your time? I’m proud of you that you took my advice there. I know you’re tough and you stand up for yourself, and I really like that about you, but yeah, you definitely need to extend it more to people thinking they can cancel on you last minute. It’s disrespectful to waste your time like that. You have bills to pay!  

I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to your visit. It’s been a long time in the coming, hasn’t it? I really appreciate you so much, Erika, probably more than you know. You’ve been such a guiding light to me on my journey over the past three years. And, well, a source of my hands to continue wandering... Fuck, I thought I knew horny before I saw you. Twelve years of pent-up sexual frustrations, while knowing I (hopefully?) have you to come out to? It’s wearing my patience a little thin, hah! 

Anyway, that aside, Alex visited me two days ago. He played me some rough drafts of the songs he’s been working on. The guy did a fucking killer job with it all! Just him on his own, okay so he isn’t going to play everything like I would on bass, like Jacob would (but as you know, that door is firmly closed) or like Nils would drum, but he had the vibe down, y’know?  

He was telling me too that he wrote to Nils again recently and finally got a reply. I know he didn’t take to prison or the rehabilitative nature of it quite as easily as I eventually did, but Alex tells me he’s doing well. He’s finally come out and said he isn’t proud of what he did and that he wants to move past it all, that he’s been making a serious effort to be better, too. That pleased me.  

I thought for so long he was lost to that darkness we both found ourselves in, and it made me feel bad for him. I didn’t want him to be stuck in that place, y’know, and he was for so, so long. I guess maturity has to hit us all at some point, it just took him a few years longer to come to terms with it all and actually arrive there.  

Anyway, I’ll leave it here, so I have things to talk to you about when you visit. Did I mention that I can’t wait?? Hah! 

Be safe, 

Lucas. 

Her heart fluttered more and more with every word that passed, reading his usual geniality, his humour, his enthusiasm for his music. He couldn’t wait to meet her, and neither could she. 

The next five days would be the longest wait ever, but for him, it was worth it. 

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[saltyunicorn079]

Finally got to read! This is going to be a great story!! I’m currently with Nina…this sounds dangerous. I love all the detail with the backstory. You’ve set the tone perfectly. While he certainly doesn’t sound like dating material to me, I’m curious to learn more about how he got himself into the position he was in to start with. How much did Nils suck him into things? You’ve created some really interesting characters! Can’t wait to read more!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - An Original Story.

Well, here we are, guys. A brand new original. I know that so many of you aren't here for this, but maybe give me a chance? I've tagged a couple of people who have been on board with my previous originals, too. No pressure if you're not feeling it, and if you do want to be tagged, please let me know.

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 5,453

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

In the world of rock and metal music, numerous artists distinguish themselves from their peers. This distinction is often due to their exceptional talent; however, in certain cases, it arises from actions that are considerably less commendable. 

Jim Gordon, 70’s rock musician and one-time drummer for Alice Cooper, murdered his own mother in schizophrenic meltdown. Varg Vikernes, sole member of Burzum and former member of Mayhem, murdered founder and former friend Øystein Aarseth in cold blood, to name but two infamous slayings.  

In 2013, the alternative music world was rocked once again by a horrific case that shook residents of Stockholm and beyond to their core, the brutal murder of a nineteen-year-old man committed by two of its most prolific young musicians. 

“In the criminal case that rocked the municipality of Solna, the accused men at the forefront of the Solna Satanic murder were sentenced earlier today. Lucas Borgström, twenty-two and co-defendant Nils Ekenberg, twenty-four, were each handed eighteen years for the brutal slaying of nineteen-year-old Pieter Arneson. The men, known for their unrepentant devotion to their Satanic beliefs as well as their roles in popular heavy metal band The Hanged, showed little emotion as sentencing was passed. 

The case, which has drawn intense scrutiny and public outrage, highlighted the dark undercurrents in the seemingly tranquil suburb. Families of the victim and the accused were present, their faces etched with a mix of relief, sorrow, and disbelief as the verdict was read. Outside the courthouse, a crowd had gathered, some holding candles in a vigil for Pieter Arneson, while others protested the sentence, claiming it was too lenient.  

The trial will undoubtedly be remembered as a chilling chapter in the Solna's history.” 

In the aftermath of the news coverage, the trial over and all involved ready to begin picking up the pieces, the internet community at large continued to voice opinion over the case.  

“Eighteen years??? For what they did, that’s fucked up!” 

“Apparently, eighteen years is all the prosecution were seeking, given that they couldn’t prove Lucas and Nils had premeditated the murder. Especially since the defence weighed so heavily on the fact that both of them were high as fuck on various drugs when they stabbed him to death.” 

“Oh, come on! Doesn’t matter how fucking high they were. Listen to their music, man. There are multiple references to human sacrifice. It was only a matter of time. They’re rotten, evil fucking scumbags. RIP Pieter.”  

“The news report saying they showed little emotion is a flat-out lie. I was there. Nils laughed, and Lucas smirked and threw up the horns, muttering ‘hail, my dark lord’ as he was taken away. They should be getting life. Neither are sorry for what they did to that poor guy.”  

“I used to know them really well way back in the day. Nils has always been somewhat dark underneath seeming like a good dude (sociopath?) but Lucas? I think Nils pulled him into it further, into the Satanism and the drugs. He was a nice guy, seriously. Yeah, he could be loud and chaotic, loved to party and have a good time, but half the shit about him out there is untrue.”  

“His ex-girlfriend who claimed he tried to stab her? Untrue. She was bitter because he left her for my friend Brigitte, and that’s the goddamned truth from Brigitte herself. She was just out for cash when she sold that story to the press! 

People saying he tortured animals, too? No fucking way. As soon as he ever arrived at my house, he’d crack open a beer and head straight for my pet rat’s cage, get them out and let them climb all over him and nest in his hair. He always loved animals. There was something really gentle about him in that way. He was such a good, nice guy. I hate what he ultimately became, though, because it isn’t him.” 

“Gentle?! Dude, fuck off. The man carved a fucking inverted pentagram into Pieter’s corpse and then painted his own body in Satanic sigils before threatening to murder everyone else at that house party. The guy is a fucking psycho. That’s who he is. It took four cops to bring him down after he and Nils left the house, running after that poor girl who escaped and called the police, trying to kill her, too. He fucking bit one of the officer’s ears off before they tazed the shit out of the douchebag.” 

Indeed, not many people could see past the horrific crimes of Lucas Borgström, regardless of opinions to the contrary. To many, he was nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer. A hardened drug addict hellbent on a path that ruined what was a very promising career, his band The Hanged once a huge name in the world of heavy metal.  

Even the band's most loyal fans were left grappling with the dissonance between the image of the charismatic, gregarious frontman they adored and the monster he became. His descent into darkness was a cautionary tale that reverberated through the heavy metal community, a stark reminder of how drugs and a toxic influence could warp a person beyond recognition.  

The trial and its aftermath left the band in shambles, their music equally tainted and exalted by the shadow of the drummer and frontman’s crimes. Friends and family who once cherished them were forced to reconcile with a gruesome reality, as debates raged on about the nature of evil and the depths to which a human being could sink.  

While Nils very much remained unrepentant for his part in it, though, Lucas was a different matter. Free of the often-overbearing influence of his bandmate and clean of the drugs that had served as nothing more than a fuel to his mental decline into true darkness, he began to seek a better path upon which to follow.  

“Do I feel guilt for what I did? Of course, I fucking do. Every day. Would I have done what I did if I hadn’t been out of my skull on drugs? I’d like to say probably not, y’know. That guy who murdered an innocent man, he isn’t the same person who is sitting here before you today. People are capable of change. Through incarceration, I’m at least trying to atone for what I did, become a better person.”  

Not many were willing to believe the words he gave when a journalist visited with him nine years into his sentence, not many at all. However, there was one woman who was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. One woman who the name Lucas Borgström meant something very different to how he was so commonly perceived.  

The finger clicking. Even over the reasonably loud thrum of rock music coming through the speakers placed at each corner of the shop, Erika could hear the persistent clicks, preceding the arrival of she who could never stand still unless she was working.  

“So, are we out tonight, are we drinking, are we dancing?” Nina, her beloved best friend and business partner asked in her usual rapid fire. She could never solely present one question, a ball of energy that seemed to never cease in its rotation, a live wire of a person who exuded the kind of energy that left people exhausted merely to witness.  

She was never loud with it, but god alive, how the energy sparked bright.  

Looking up to where the British expat danced around on the spot, fingers still clicking, Erika paused, giving her client a well-earned break. “I’ll come for one, but I’m pretty tired.”  

The energetic twitching immediately stilled. “One? Excuse me, one drink? Oh, you fucking blasphemer! How dare you say this in the presence of a Friday night, girly!” 

“I know, I know, however...” 

A loud snort sounded. “No! No however! Where has my fun-loving, hard drinking little playmate gone? One drink? What a load of bollocks!” 

Sighing, Erika dipped the tattoo machine needle into more black ink, returning it to the huge backpiece of a mandala she was working her way through. “To use your British-ism, bollocks it may be, but my liver needs a break, dude.”  

Nina rolled her eyes dramatically, muttering something unflattering about weak constitutions, but Erika’s focus had already shifted back to her work. The hum of the tattoo machine provided a meditative rhythm, almost hypnotic, as intricate dots formed the weaving patterns under her skilled hand.  

She couldn't help but smirk at Nina's antics; the woman was relentless, but it was part of her charm. Letting out a small chuckle, her thoughts briefly drifted to the pull of wild nights and reckless abandon, only to be tugged gently back to the present by the vibration of the machine in her grasp.  

The song on the rock radio station then changed, giving her another little jolt. The Sigils of Seven, the title track from the second album by The Hanged, one of her all-time favourite bands. She might have been a little biased since the guys all hailed from the same place as her, the municipality of Solm, but their musical talent truly did precede any hometown loyalty. 

That loyalty was a somewhat fractured, though, twelve years on from the crime that had shaken Stockholm to its core.  

“Man, I used to love these guys,” her client spoke, shaking his head. “I try and separate art from artist, but it’s hard in this case.” 

A still-present Nina pointed right at him. “You have that right, my man! Jesus wept, I swear my mouth couldn’t have hung open wider when I found out what they’d done to that poor bloke!”  

“Yeah, yeah,” he began in agreement, looking in her direction as she pulled up a chair to his side. “I sort of want to be lenient in what I think, because of all the drugs and shit, but fuck. They’re not good people. Fucking psychos. Lucas especially.” 

It was at that point Erika had to physically bite her tongue, because for her, she knew very much differently to the common opinion. Not for Nils, but for Lucas, she could attest with great surety that he was far from a psychopath. How? Because she had been writing to him for the last three years, that was how.  

It had wounded her deeply, back when the murder had taken place and he and his bandmate had been subsequently arrested and sentenced. To know that a musician she admired and looked up to so much was capable of that kind of depravity had genuinely shaken her, the same as it had for many of their other fans, too.  

She simply couldn’t believe it, that a man who seemed an utter delight to be in the company of, often boisterous and hilarious in interviews, famed for being nothing but friendly and welcoming to his fans, had taken such a fall from grace. Despite fairly common opinion, Satanists were not all dark and evil people, Lucas certainly seeming to be far from it, regardless of the very much darker lyrical content of the band’s second album. 

“Satanism, to me, it’s about being your own god, y’know, just be peaceful with it, be a good person to be good, not because some imaginary sky daddy is going to reward or punish me if I am or if I’m not.  I don’t have intentions to fucking make sacrifices to a dark lord, drink blood and chant, yadda, yadda, yadda. None of that shit. I’m not a theistic Satanist.  

“Read up on it, man. It goes against the tenets of Satanism, the very first to be exact. One should strive to act with compassion and empathy toward all creatures in accordance with reason. There it is, there’s my fucking answer.” 

Just fourteen months on from that interview, where he’d been nothing contrary to his usual upbeat, well-spoken self, and he’d descended into the kind of darkness that Erika had assumed there to be no emergence from.  

He had gone from a young man on a path to what he described as clarity of thought, and a conscious desire to uphold the beliefs taught through The Satanic Temple, to a fully blown theistic Satanist, a sect with much differing beliefs in that they truly believed Satan to be a deity in which to praise and appease.  

The Satanic Temple merely used Satan as a symbol of pride, liberty and individualism. They did not believe in his existence nor praise him as a deity, never promoting the worship of he who many coined as their dark lord.  

By the time he was arrested, covered in the blood of the man who he’d jointly stabbed to death, it was fair to say that Lucas very much believed there was a dark lord to be worshipped, and a sacrifice made to. As Erika knew well, it was a regret that still plagued him greatly. He never made excuses for it either.  

Yeah, I was bent out of shape on drugs, too many drugs, drinking too much, yadda, yadda, yadda. I still let myself go down that path though, Erika. Still got pulled in by the darkness of something I should have opened my fucking eyes over. I know people blame Nils for how I turned out, but I’m not brainless, y’know? I could have told him no, and I didn’t. I’m responsible for my actions, and I take it fully on board, what I did to Pieter. 

That was what he had stated in one of the first letters where he’d truly opened up to her. An interview had been conducted by a journalist for a magazine feature on Scandinavian metal and the many instances of musicians themselves committing horrific crimes, upon after reading Erika had felt compelled to reach out to Lucas. 

What she had witnessed was a man who took full responsibility for his crimes and was trying hard to put himself on a better path. There was honest remorse within him, a desire to atone, a drive to show people he was more than the hideous act of violence he had once committed.  

I let a lot of people down. My family, my mom, sister and brother especially, my grandparents, my friends, my band and my fans. When I finally get out, I want to prove that I’m capable of change, show that I took full advantage of the excellent rehabilitation I’ve been given so far over my sentence. 

I can’t say I’d ever blame people for not allowing me that chance, though. My relationship with my mother is strained to this day, I know that Jacob (Bjornsson, former rhythm guitarist for The Hanged) will never speak to me again, and I know that a huge part of our fanbase will never forgive me either. 

 There’s a lot of motherfucking shit out there that isn’t fucking true about me, but what is, that’s enough to blacken my name forever. And I completely accept that. I would, however, love to be given a chance to prove common opinion wrong. 

She didn’t expect to receive a reply at all initially, so had been truly stunned to see a letter in her post box from him just over a week after mailing hers. Three years had passed since, and because of the common consensus over the man, she hadn’t told a soul of their burgeoning friendship, a friendship that if she was honest, was now becoming something more. 

Much more. 

It would have been a lie if she’d said she hadn’t been hesitant to send him a photograph of her at his request, but his reply had certainly been worth it. As well as unbelievable that the man her teenage self had lusted after so heavily thought what he did about her. 

Your picture? Damn. I think I might need to be on blood pressure medication, because you just sent it through the roof. You are stunning, Erika. Unbelievably stunning! 

“What are you grinning about?”  

Nina’s sharp chirp immediately sent the little Lucas-centred daydream she’d fallen into shattering to smithereens. “We’re talking about a vile, unrepentant murderer and you’re there, smiling like a loon?” 

“He isn’t unrepentant.” Oh, shit. The words slipped from her mouth before she even had time to hang onto them for dear life.  

Nina cocked her head. “And how would you know? You don’t honestly believe that bullshit he said in the article a while back, do you?” Erika’s pause spoke volumes. “Oh, my life. You do, don’t you?” Further silence, which only spurred the cogs in Nina’s mind to begin revolving further, as if fuelling her interrogation. “Why do you suddenly look so uncomfortable, matey?” 

Shit, shit, shit! Nina never let something go, and fuck, if she didn’t always see through any of Erika’s facades to conceal the truth. “I’ll talk to you later. Could you be a doll and fetch me a soda? I’m so thirsty.” 

One hour on from then, while they sat down within the cosy confines of The Churchill Arms there in Vasastan, a favourite since it was a British-themed pub and thus reminded Nina of home, Erika knew her time was up.  

“Listen, I need to confide in you, about earlier,” she began, sipping her beer. “The reason I looked uncomfortable when we were discussing Lucas Borgström is because of something I’ve been hiding from you. From everyone, in fact.”  

Immediately, Nina felt the pull of unrevealed gossip taking a firm swipe at her curiosity. “Then tell me! What is it? Did you know him or something, before he was sent down?” She gasped, reaching to clutch her forearms. “Where you the girl he was dating before he was banged up? I know she went into hiding after it all happened, so it isn’t out of the realms of possibility!” 

Of course, she expected the barrage of questions. It was nothing if not Nina’s way.  “No, no. I wasn’t. I didn’t know him then, but I do now. We’ve been writing to one another for the last three years, talking on the phone as well.” 

Erika had never witnessed the colour drain from somebody’s face before, not even when her dad had almost split his foot in half after an ill-fated DIY project involving a lump hammer. Sure enough, though, she saw it then, Nina losing the usual blush from her cheeks.  

“Why... why, why, why the hell are you communicating with a bloody murderer, mate? Why? And more than that, well, no. I don’t have more. Just why!”  

She expected it, the shock that seemed to be speeding through her friend like an out-of-control F1 vehicle. “Because after reading that interview he gave, the one you denounced as bullshit, I just felt compelled to, I dunno,” she began, shrugging as Nina’s intense gaze of disbelief prickled at her. “I was always a huge fan of his until the murder. Reading his words, though, I believed him, and I was right to. Honestly, dude. He’s not the same guy.”  

If aghast had a face, in that moment it was Nina Bennett. “How do you even know that, though? Bloody, bloody, bloody hell! Written letters and phone calls aren’t a marker for somebody’s true nature! He might just be playing you!” 

“For what end?” she asked, frowning a little. 

“I don’t flippin’ know, I’m not him! I’m not a murdering psychopath!” she spluttered, small droplets of her vodka and soda flecking the table. “All I know is that a man who contributed to murdering somebody via thirty-nine stab wounds, who then went on to carve an inverted pentagram on his victim’s chest, painted himself in his blood and then rucked with the coppers who turned up to arrest him is bad news!” 

Erika could feel herself winding tight, but pushed it down. In that moment, she chose to channel a little bit of Lucas, a man who had taught her that in the face of adversity, remaining calm was the best way to get your point across. If only Nina could actually speak to him, to see if for herself, how he wasn’t the same man any longer.  

“I think it’s fair to say that the mental clarity of somebody high on the cocktail of drugs he was, well, it was severely compromised.” Amphetamine, cocaine, PCP and alcohol were found in his system, according to the reports she’d read. How he was even able to stand up, let alone stab somebody to death was beyond her. “But he still makes no excuses for it. If he was truly as rotten to his core as many say that he is, surely, he wouldn’t be so admitting of that?” 

Her sweet Erika; she always saw the good in people first. It was something Nina cherished dearly about her friend, but in this instance saw as a huge red flag. “Ever thought it might be a facade, simply to get early release, be let out and then go on another rampage?” 

“No, no,” she replied staunchly, “because why would he choose incarceration all over again, doll? That’s just silly. He truly wants to make amends. Listen, he’s lost almost twelve years of his life. In fact, it actually is twelve years now if you count the time they were locked up prior to the case coming to trial. All he wants is to be free, see if he can resurrect his career and carry on with his life. He says that he expects people not to give him that chance, though, and he wouldn’t blame them if they don’t.” 

Her words were quite fair, Nina had to concede. It still left an unpleasant feeling creeping through her tummy, though. “So, have you ever been down to visit him, then?”  

It wasn’t out of the realms of possibility that she could, with Anstalten Hall prison being only a half hour drive away from Vasastan. “Not yet, no. It’s taken a while for us to build up the kind of trust and rapport with each other where I would actually want to meet him in the flesh, plus he was hesitant as well. He kept a lot of his visitations open for his mom to go and see him, but she never has. She’s too upset, still.” 

Nina nodded. “As any mother would be, yeah.” 

“However, he’s put me on his visitors list and I’m all set to go and meet him for the first time next week. I’m really looking forward to it, although I’m nervous as shit about it.” 

More nods followed. “As anyone would be, sitting across from a convicted murderer.” 

“No, no. It isn’t because of what he did,” she stated, her hand moving to her ponytail, beginning to weave her locks around her index finger. “It’s because... well...” Biting her lip, she looked out from beneath her lashes, taking a deep breath. “I like him, Nina. As in, more than a friend, like him. And it’s mutual. We have a connection; we really trust and respect one another.  

“Also, they don’t censor letters or phone calls, and so it’s fair to say things have begun to become a little flirty over the last few months, too. Well, flirty is putting it mildly. Sometimes, it’s downright spicy.”  

Watching her friend’s face fall, she knew revealing such wouldn’t be met with Nina’s usual sunshine. “Oh god, mate.” Reaching for her hands, she squeezed them, a line of concern pinching her brows tightly. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I really, really do. Look, I trust you, but I don’t trust him. I’m sorry, but I don’t. Also, where can this go? Are you prepared to wait for him for another six years?” 

“It might not be that long,” she revealed, “since a lot of prisoners are given early release if they’ve behaved well inside. I looked it up, it’s usually after two thirds of their time served. He mentioned the other day that it might be a reality for him, but he wasn’t certain just yet.” 

“Well, if it is, I think you should tread cautiously. Get to know him as a person on the outside before you go all in with him. Really, you have to be careful. He ain’t just some petty criminal; he’s a fucking murderer.”  

She crinkled her nose then, sighing, looking pained as she stroked Erika’s hands with her thumbs. “I have to admit it though, mate. It’s at odds with the desire in me as your bestie to get excited with you, because I can see it in you, that you’re over there having an “I like a guy” moment. I’m just scared because of who the guy is.”  

She paused, grimacing a little. “And regardless of that, I see it, the attraction. He is gorgeous, and insanely talented, but I feel bad saying that! I want to ask you things as well, have a good ole’ girly gossip, but it keeps hitting me that I shouldn’t because I don’t want to encourage something I’m not really on board with!” 

“Then ask me,” Erika stated simply, shrugging, releasing one of her hands to pick up her beer and take another swig. “Listen, people are multi-faceted, aren’t they? There’s a lot more to who Lucas is than the crime he committed. Much more. You’re not a bad person for wanting to hear things, just like I’m not a bad person for giving the man a chance.” 

Indecision seemed to continue coiling through the blonde-haired Brit, Nina holding up a finger and rising from her seat. A few minutes passed before she returned with another round, plus two shots on the tray she held.  

“I said I was only staying for one,” Erika moaned, although it was through a little smile. 

“Bollocks,” Nina huffed, taking the vodka soda, beer and two shots of tequila from the tray and placing them down. “You’re about to tell me about all the horny stuff you’re discussing with a bloody convict. I need another drink, so that means you do, too.” Lifting the shot glass, she clinked it against Erika’s, widening her eyes. “Bottoms up!”  

Once the shots were sunk, Nina cleared the glasses to the side of the table, drumming her hands off it rhythmically. “So, tell me. How’s the flirting been? What’s been said?” 

“You know, this and that,” she began, snorting with laughter at the eye roll she was given. Unless a little drunk, though, Erika wasn’t one to be overly brash or crude. Drunk Erika, though? She was a different animal. “Okay so he said that when I first sent him a picture of him, he had to go off and have a cold shower. One that didn’t solely extend to the purposes of washing.” 

“So, you’re the man’s wank fodder then, is what you’re telling me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” she revealed, snorting with laughter. “Apparently lots of girls have sent pictures to him, loads of letters basically hero praising him, but none of them stood out like I did. That was months before he even saw my picture, too. He said if he was free, he’d be dating me in a heartbeat. And, well... he said I shouldn’t make any plans once he’s released, because he’s going to need to take me to bed for at least a day.” 

Nina’s eyebrows rose immediately. “Well, yeah. The man has been like a monk for the last twelve years. Your poor little fanny is going to get a right battering!” She then regained a little of her reservation, pointing across the table. “I meant it though, that you shouldn’t go all in with him. So maybe don’t jump into bed with him right away and spend that day shagging like rabbits, hmm?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe. I dunno,” she hummed, finishing her beer and pulling the fresh glass closer to sip the foamy head. “Oh fuck, he made me laugh so much, though. He said not to expect anything too much from him because of course, it’s been twelve years since he last had sex. But, and I quote, he said I could expect to receive the greatest twenty seconds of my life the first time!” 

Nina couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her, hearing that. That little slice of very non-egotistical humour somewhat soothed her fears, although she knew beneath it, her concern for her friend and this man would continue to linger. “At least the bloke’s honest!” 

Truly, he’d been nothing but with her. Their conversation moved on, Erika staying for a third drink before she made her excuses and went home, Nina deciding to hook up with some other friends who were more inclined to make a night of it.  

Once back within her small, yet charming bungalow home, the first thing she did was check her post box, delighted to see a letter within from the object of her rapidly growing affections. Taking a shower and dressing in a comfy lounge set, she settled in with a cup of tea, ready to read.  

Hi beautiful! 

Fuck, I’m bored. Can’t leave my cell as the prison is on lockdown right now. A kid got shanked, survived it luckily but there’ve been going from cell to cell doing weapons searches. They just searched mine about a half hour ago, and we won’t be allowed to roam around until they’re done.  

Sometimes, I almost forget that it’s a prison until things like this happen. Like I’ve explained to you before, unlike so many other prison systems around the world, we’re treated really fairly in here. No dark cells, few liberties taken, yadda, yadda, yadda. We have it lucky. I don’t get why the young guys coming in here wanna rock the boat like that. They should just put their motherfucking heads down and do their time, y’know? All this gang bullshit is fucked.  

Anyway, how are you? How did it go with that client who kept cancelling, how did she take it that you were still charging for your time? I’m proud of you that you took my advice there. I know you’re tough and you stand up for yourself, and I really like that about you, but yeah, you definitely need to extend it more to people thinking they can cancel on you last minute. It’s disrespectful to waste your time like that. You have bills to pay!  

I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to your visit. It’s been a long time in the coming, hasn’t it? I really appreciate you so much, Erika, probably more than you know. You’ve been such a guiding light to me on my journey over the past three years. And, well, a source of my hands to continue wandering... Fuck, I thought I knew horny before I saw you. Twelve years of pent-up sexual frustrations, while knowing I (hopefully?) have you to come out to? It’s wearing my patience a little thin, hah! 

Anyway, that aside, Alex visited me two days ago. He played me some rough drafts of the songs he’s been working on. The guy did a fucking killer job with it all! Just him on his own, okay so he isn’t going to play everything like I would on bass, like Jacob would (but as you know, that door is firmly closed) or like Nils would drum, but he had the vibe down, y’know?  

He was telling me too that he wrote to Nils again recently and finally got a reply. I know he didn’t take to prison or the rehabilitative nature of it quite as easily as I eventually did, but Alex tells me he’s doing well. He’s finally come out and said he isn’t proud of what he did and that he wants to move past it all, that he’s been making a serious effort to be better, too. That pleased me.  

I thought for so long he was lost to that darkness we both found ourselves in, and it made me feel bad for him. I didn’t want him to be stuck in that place, y’know, and he was for so, so long. I guess maturity has to hit us all at some point, it just took him a few years longer to come to terms with it all and actually arrive there.  

Anyway, I’ll leave it here, so I have things to talk to you about when you visit. Did I mention that I can’t wait?? Hah! 

Be safe, 

Lucas. 

Her heart fluttered more and more with every word that passed, reading his usual geniality, his humour, his enthusiasm for his music. He couldn’t wait to meet her, and neither could she. 

The next five days would be the longest wait ever, but for him, it was worth it. 

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

[jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna]

I love that fact that I’m just nestled so comfy between a few fics from you and I don’t ever want to live in a world where I’m not reading something you’re writing but I must say I WAS SO EXCITED TO READ AN ORIGINAL STORY BY YOU and I’m so thrilled to read more from you as always!! 💚💚

The Summary!!! “Until salvation came in the form of a letter”?!!! And I love the name of the band!!

Okay liiisten I loved loved loooved the way you write in the news broadcasts and all the internet gossip which was soooo real with lies and truths and misunderstandings!!! I swear it felt like I was watching it all play out on tv, it gave such an authenticity to the story 👏👏👏👏

I know we will come to love Lucas but I gotta say I was so torn just ike Nina. I totally get where she is coming from. But i just know Lucas is gonna make us proud and I can’t wait to follow along with his journey! And look at him below already doing just that and I Iooove it!!!

Yeah, I was bent out of shape on drugs, too many drugs, drinking too much, yadda, yadda, yadda. I still let myself go down that path though, Erika. Still got pulled in by the darkness of something I should have opened my fucking eyes over. I know people blame Nils for how I turned out, but I'm not brainless, y'know? | could have told him no, and I didn't. I'm responsible for my actions, and I take it fully on board, what I did to Pieter.

There's a lot of motherfucking shit out there that isn't fucking true about me, but what is, that's enough to blacken my name forever. And I completely accept that. / would, however, love to be given a chance to prove common opinion wrong.

Your picture? Damn. I think I might need to be on blood pressure medication, because you just sent it through the roof. You are stunning, Erika. Unbelievably stunning!

He is such a frecking charmer I swear!!! I just love the letters we get to see from them. It’s so romantic honestly haha and although I do understand where Nina is coming from in how worried she is for Erika I must say I’m a big believer in second chances and so I’m riding with Erika all the wayyyyy I just hope she doesn’t get hurt especially with Nils coming into the picture. I’m definitely a bit worried from our talks lololol

Erika could feel herself winding tight, but pushed it down. In that moment, she chose to channel a little bit of Lucas, a man who had taught her that in the face of adversity, remaining calm was the best way to get your point across.

Okay, but I love that she is learning good behaviors and thought processes from him cause it shows us just how much he actually has become a better person💚💚

She crinkled her nose then, sighing, looking pained as she stroked Erika's hands with her thumbs. "I have to admit it though, mate. It's at odds with the desire in me as your bestie to get excited with you, because I can see it in you, that you're over there having an "I like a guy" moment. I'm just scared because of who the guy is."

She paused, grimacing a little. "And regardless of that, I see it, the attraction. He is gorgeous, and insanely talented, but I feel bad saying that! I want to ask you things as well, have a good ole' girly gossip, but it keeps hitting me that I shouldn't because I don't want to encourage something I'm not really on board with!"

Erika is panicking!!!! Hahaha I mean I’m not gonna lie you did such a good job writing about the crime and the news coverage, I literally am scared for her too 🤣🤣 but again we’re trusting you Lucas and I loved this convo that followed between them, it was so open and honest and understanding, I just loved it! 💚💚

Nina's eyebrows rose immediately. "Well, yeah. The man has been like a monk for the last twelve years. Your poor little fanny is going to get a right battering!" She then regained a little of her reservation, pointing across the table. "I meant it though, that you shouldn't go all in with him. So maybe don't jump into bed with him right away and spend that day shagging like rabbits, hmm?"

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe. I dunno," she hummed, finishing her beer and pulling the fresh glass closer to sip the foamy head.

Lmfaooooo, she’s like eh, I’ll think about it, but no promises 🤣🤣 don’t blame her either because Lucas is charming AF already!! 💚

"Oh fuck, he made me laugh so much, though. He said not to expect anything too much from him because of course, it's been twelve years since he last had sex. But, and I quote, he said I could expect to receive the greatest twenty seconds of my life the first time!"

The way she took a shower and got all relaxed to read the letter, I so would do this as well haha like hold up lemme get my snackies 🤣🤣

He was telling me too that he wrote to Nils again recently and finally got a reply. I know he didn't take to prison or the rehabilitative nature of it quite as easily as I eventually did, but Alex tells me he's doing well. He's finally come out and said he isn't proud of what he did and that he wants to move past it all, that he's been making a serious effort to be better, too. That pleased me.

I thought for so long he was lost to that darkness we both found ourselves in, and it made me feel bad for him. I didn't want him to be stuck in that place, y'know, and he was for so, so long. I guess maturity has to hit us all at some point, it just took him a few years longer to come to terms with it all and actually arrive there.

I CAN’T WAIT TO READ THE FULL FIRST MEET SCENE, I AM DROOLING OVER THE THOUGH OF IT LOLOLOL AND ALL IN ALL I REALLY CANT WAIT TO SEE WHERE THIS GOES!!! 💚💚💚💚

👏👏👏👏👏

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[darklydeliciousdesires]

NOT ME sitting here squealing and having to read your review twice! Not me, nope!

I’m so lucky to have people like you who thrive on my stories so much, how much joy you derive from reading them never fails to make me smile, and I love your enthusiasm here especially!

I absolutely cannot wait for you to read them never fails rest of what I have in store for these two. Welcome to the story, darling!

[saltyunicorn079]

Darling, the lease! Add me to the tag list! Thank you thank you!

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

Camping

Mayans Based Story. Adult Content

Master List

Chapter Fifteen

I kissed and hugged and gave my goodbyes to Conner and the Irish Kings. I never noticed before how old fashioned their ways of thinking had been.  Until the senior King, Declan Brogan, commented on the way Bishop looked at me.

“Look at da state o’you, lass,” he says looking from me back to Bishop, “at least he’s no’ a protestant.  Yer da would roll in his grave.” I wanted to tell him that Bishop was everything to me. His heritage was every bit a part of him as mine was to me.  But I couldn’t find the words to express that wouldn’t alienate the Kings and kill everything that these clubs have been working for over the years. 

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[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

Pink and sparkly 

A Mayans Based Story

Adult content

Master List

Chapter Fourteen 

I felt myself again for the first time in days. The bruises and marks had faded to just a memory. Bishop and I were getting closer. He opened up more about club stuff. He seemed more relaxed now that he didn’t have to hide half of who he was from me. I knew Bishop the man, I loved him, but seeing more of Bishop, El Presidente of the Mayans MC, only deepened my feelings. 

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[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

I hate meetings.

Mayans based Story. Adult Content.

Master List

Chapter Thirteen

I had a little more freedom since the unexpected death of my husband. I was able to drive my own SUV without a Mayan in the passenger’s seat or tailing me. It was nice at first but I started to miss the constant company.  

I thought about that as I hang my bag of dry cleaning from the hook in my backseat. I frown seeing the bloodstain on the carpet. Angel’s. I lost my job at the hospital shortly after. I hadn’t accumulated the hours to take off as long as it did to recover.  I was better off than most who got laid off. I had millions to fall back on. But I still missed the work. 

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[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

Battered and bruised

Mayans Based Story

Adult Content

Master List 

Chapter Twelve

“Does it still hurt?” Bishop asks as his fingers move gently over my cheek. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to seduce me or if he were just concerned. The swelling had gone down.

“Not as much, ” I barely winced.  

His voice had echoed concern since we left the dress warehouse a week ago. And it had been just as long since he’d really touched me. I didn’t doubt Bishop cared about me, but he kept his distance. More of my body was covered by cuts and bruises than skin at the time but I grew tired of being treated with kid gloves. 

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[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

I should have showered at his place.

A Mayans Based Story.  Adult Content

Master List

Chapter Eleven

“I’m extremely disappointed in you, Nova, ” Warren’s voice booms in my head. “A dirty wetback? Really? I didn’t think you’d sink so low.“ 

"You know nothing about him, ” I wince at the coppery taste of blood in my mouth from my split lip. “About any of them. They have more fucking…” My words are silenced by a swift kick to my abdomen. 

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