#only found on the back of the Coming Up tour book and inside some old SIS zines

[all-rock-and-roll-is-homosexual]

Suede, 1996

📸: Pen K

#brett anderson #mat osman #simon gilbert #richard oakes #neil codling #the mysterious pen k glass tiles shoot #only found on the back of the Coming Up tour book and inside some old SIS zines

[mavrintarou]

[4:38 PM] Oikawa Toru [6]

Thank you for your patience, I've got carried away with reading some novels I found on Instagram.

Warning: fluff and explicit smut activities

Fifth part Seventh part

.

Toru vaguely remembered a few weeks ago before he knew Y/n was his unite mate, that he had wished there was a window connecting to their units to allow the piano sounds to flow more clearly between them.  

Well, Mother Nature heard his wish. 

He eyed the damage before looking at Y/n’s equally shocked expression. “Well, this is a surprise.” 

“Indeed,” Y/n muttered, walking closer to stand across from him. She could partially see into Toru’s bedroom and Mateo’s nursery. “They weren’t kidding about possible interior damage.” 

They stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter.  

“This is crazy!” She exclaimed, breaking into a fit of giggles. After a few seconds she wiped her tears, “today can’t get any better.” 

Toru steps across and over to Y/n’s side, pushing aside the rubble on the ground. “Something we will definitely remember.”  

“Is Mateo down?” Y/n’s eyes are on Toru as he closes the distance between them.  

Toru nodded, standing before her. “Completely out, didn’t even stir when I set him down in his cot in the living room.”  

They gazed silently at each other, enveloped in a world that consisted only of the two of them amidst the eventful day. 

“Would you like… some tea?” Y/n offered, gesturing towards her kitchen. “Or I can bring it over so we hear Mateo if – “  

“It’s okay, we can have tea here. When he wakes up, you will know.” He chuckles, “Mateo makes it known he is up.” 

Y/n smiled and headed to the kitchen, “then I’ll get some tea going.” 

Toru took the opportunity to tour her living room, he walked towards her bookshelf and something immediately caught his eye. “I remember this manga!” Memories began flooding back as he remembered the storyline and which volume he left off. He had completely forgotten about this manga.  

Y/n returned with two cups and watched Toru huddling by her bookshelf. He was so engrossed in something that she set their cups down before approaching him and peeking around his body to find him flipping through the old manga they were once invested in.  

“You remember?” Her voice startled him, making him flinch. She broke out in a fit of giggles, “sorry, thought you heard me… did you ever finish the manga?” 

Toru shook his head, placing the book back on the shelf. “Actually, do you mind if I borrow your books? I wanna reread it.” 

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “go for it.” 

.  . 

The following morning, Y/n woke up early, her eyes drawn to the clear view through Toru’s unit. It had not registered that the wall between her unit and Toru’s was accessible.  

Crossing across her living room, she peeked inside Toru’s bedroom and found him still asleep. He lay on his stomach with the comforters pulled up to his nose.

Y/n tuned her ears, as she heard faint cooing and realized it was coming from the little white monitor beside Toru’s bed. Shifting over, she peeked into his nursery and she couldn’t exactly see him but she could see and hear him more clearly.  

She quietly tipped toed over and Mateo was definitely wide awake, cooing to himself as he was still wrapped in his swaddle. Their eyes immediately locked and a wide smile spread on his face.  

“Good morning,” Y/n cooed, hovering over him from the side of his crib. “Your daddy still sleeping.” She reached over to loosen the swaddle, freeing his chubby arms as he stretched out his long body.  

Mateo was tall for his age and Y/n found out that he was at the ninety-eight percent tile for his height. It was no surprise considering Toru was tall himself, Y/n guessed if Mateo’s mother was a supermodel that she was most likely tall as well.  

He rolled over onto his belly and shifted his body towards her, he immediately began to whine, wanting to be picked up.  

Seeing that Toru himself wasn’t waking up, Y/n picked up the baby. She spotted a pre-made bottle beside the crib and reached for it. “Are you hungry?” 

Mateo excitedly eyed his bottle as Y/n shook the bottle, mixing the formula and water. She popped off the cap and walked over to the glider in the corner of his nursery. He reached for his bottle and latched on to the nipple, hungrily sucking away.  

Y/n had imagined countless times how motherhood would be when the day came. She had heard about the magical bond between a mother and her baby when it came to nursing and would love nothing more than to nurse her baby. Her heart ached at the thought of Mateo not experiencing that bond with his mother, let alone having a mother figure in his life.  

She didn’t judge his mother’s actions and decisions, but could not fathom how she could walk away and not look back. 

It was beginning to become harder for her to keep Mateo at a distance, she knew she shouldn’t overstep her boundaries, let alone get too close to him just in case… things didn’t work out.  

The thought already tore at her heart if she ever had to walk away from them. 

Was there room for Y/n in their lives? Could she potentially be someone to them?  

Mateo finished his bottle and began chewing on the nipple, cooing to himself.  

“Are you all done?” Y/n asked, lifting him in a sitting position. “We should probably change your diaper?” She stood up and walked towards the changing table. “Should we wake your daddy?” 

“I’m up,” a husky voice answered, “good morning to you two.” 

Y/n turned her head towards the open wall as Toru stood against the frame with his arms crossed. He stood tall and ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “This route is faster than going through the door.” He studded over and kissed the top of Mateo’s head before wrapping his arms around them both. “Morning hug!” 

. 

Y/n glances over her shoulder at Mateo sitting in his walker as her fingers dance across the keys of her piano. He remained in the exact spot she left him when she went and sat on her bench and began playing. His eyes are mesmerized as he suckles his pacifier and watches Y/n giving him a private show.  

An hour ago, Toru received a call informing him that his mother had been rushed to the hospital following a fall at the grocery store.   

“Go. Mateo can stay with me.” Y/n assured. 

Toru exhaled deeply and nodded his head, he leaned and pressed a kiss on Mateo’s head and then on hers, “thank you Y/n, call me if you need anything.”  

Y/n’s fingers gently slowed down as she smiled, noticing Mateo’s eyes started to droop. His head began to nod as he struggled to ward off the drowsiness.  

Completing her musical piece, Y/n stood and approached Mateo, who could hardly keep his eyes open as she drew near. She extended her arms, and he eagerly raised his own, yearning to be held. She cradled him in her embrace, and he nestled against her chest, his eyes closing instantly as he sought warmth and comfort. 

. 

Toru quickly punched in the code on this keypad and hastily entered his unit. Without pausing to remove his jacket, he rushed through his room and into Y/n’s unit. The space was tranquil, and he took a moment to catch his breath before his gaze landed on them, peacefully cuddled together on the couch, fast asleep.  

He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he took a seat on the edge of the couch. Mateo seemed to be in dreamland with his face nestled comfortably against Y/n’s chest. Toru couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy at his son’s current position. 

As if sensing someone, Y/n stirred, and eyes fluttered open. She smiled, “is everything okay with your mom?” 

Toru nodded, brushing her hair away from her face. “Yes, she had to get surgery, but it was minor, so she has to stay off her feet for a few weeks.” His eyes shift to Mateo, his hand brushing his son’s brown hair which has gotten longer each month. “Thank you,” he murmured, “I hope he wasn’t a handful for you?” 

Y/n shook her head, “he was good.” Her hand rubbed his bottom as he let out a sigh and Y/n chuckled, “he is such a good baby, Toru.”  

His gaze is soft as he glances between his son and Y/n, “I know, I’m truly blessed.” He held her gaze for a moment longer, “I’ll say it again, we’re truly blessed to have you too, Y/n.” His hand trails along her jaw and he gently grips her chin, “can… I kiss you?” 

Y/n nodded her head.  

Toru leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. It was a light kiss but sent electricity down to his toes. Their last kiss had been on his mind and with each passing second, he wondered when he would taste her lips again. 

Y/n moaned against his mouth, her hand cupping his face.  

“Goo...”  

Y/n shoved Toru, breaking their kiss. They both turned their gaze at Mateo who could barely hold his head up as he blinked away from his sleep.  

“Teo, why are you always interrupting us?” Toru groaned, he let out a chuckle and quickly sneaked a kiss from Y/n before planning dinner. 

.  . 

Within days, everything seemed to have changed in their little world.  

Their mornings would consist of their morning hug and breakfast. Next would be lunch and an afternoon walk around the park. Y/n and Toru took turns making dinner and ending the night with Y/n playing her piano and lullabying Mateo to sleep while Toru rocked him in her living room.  

The damage between their units was listed as a low priority and neither Y/n nor Toru was complaining about it. Toru didn’t mind that he had a walkway from his bedroom to Y/n’s unit and he didn’t think Mateo minded either, who recently learned to maneuver in the baby walker and would roll himself into Y/n’s unit from his nursery.  

Y/n’s once clean and tidy living room now has a large playpen filled with baby toys and colorful padding play mats.  

“Do you think he’ll start walking soon?” Y/n asked while watching Mateo trying to pull himself up on his feet by grabbing onto the wall of the playpen. He was determined, he had fallen on his bottom but would try again.  

Toru hummed softly, running his hand through her hair. The three of them settled within the playpen, Y/n finding comfort by resting her head on Toru’s lap while they observed Mateo playing in the corner.   

Mateo, in his attempt to stand, nearly succeeded before his grip gave away, causing him to tumble and roll onto his back. Frustration welled up, finding release in tears.  

“Come here baby,” Y/n sat up and beckoned with a gentle wave of her fingers. Mateo, with tears-streaked cheeks, began crawling towards them. Y/n scooped him up, embracing him tightly. 

Toru rested his chin on Y/n’s shoulder, his gaze fixed on his son who immediately ceased crying and blinked at his dad. “Do you feel better now that you’ve cried?” His son tilted his head and squirmed out of Y/n’s hold; he shifted his body towards his dad.  

Toru had expressed how he would do his best to provide his son with unwavering attention and affection, always mindful not to be overbearing. He seeks to find a balance, ensuring that Mateo feels cared for without becoming excessively indulgent. He aims to meet Mateos' needs without fostering a sense of entitlement, guiding him to understand the value behind every provision.  

Y/n quietly observed in silence, her heart swelling at the sight of the strong bond between father and son, especially as Toru spoke affirming words to the baby.  

Mateo maintained steady eye contact with his dad as if he understood every word.  

. 

Y/n gently swayed her body with the piano piece, a new piece for Mateo.  She continued playing even after Mateo had fallen asleep in Toru’s arms.  

She felt the spot beside her dip and glanced to her left, “tired?” 

“No,” he answered, his eyes spellbound by her music. “One day, I want to watch you play live.” 

“You’re watching me now?” 

Toru squeezed her sides, making her squirm. “You know what I mean.” He has always been amazed and impressed at her unwavering focus when playing the piano. Even during their teenage years, when he would groan and throw a fit during studying time, Y/n remained absorbed in her playing as if he weren’t present. She could effortlessly perform in a sizable auditorium, unfazed by the surrounding crowd, always maintaining a composed demeanor. 

He leaned close and pressed his nose against her neck. “Are you easily distracted?”  

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him. “No, as a pianist your focus is one of your strongest strengths. You must be able to continue playing even if there is an earthquake happening.” 

“Is that so?” He hummed, his tone lower suddenly, “it’s been a while since you must have been tested, should I help see if your focus is still there?” 

Y/n tensed as his right hand rested on her thigh, through her silk skirt, she could feel the heat of his palm. 

Not only have they been kissing more, but their kisses have also intensified. Always leaving them both breathless and turned on. Toru paid attention to her body language, making sure not to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.  

“Are you still good?”  

“Yes,” she breathed, her fingers still dancing across the keys perfectly.  

His fingers slowly bunched her skirt until the tip of his fingers danced across her skin. He expected a shift in her breathing but was amazed when she maintained a steady composure. “Your skin is so soft, Y/n.”  

Y/n’s breath hitched, for a reason as he withdrew his touch as he got up from the bench. Her eyes followed him as he moved behind her, “can you scoot as close as possible to the edge of the bench for me?” 

Without pausing her fingers, she shifted herself to the edge and frowned when Toru positioned himself behind her, his chest to her back and his legs resting on each side of hers.  

“Y/n,” Toru’s voice sent chills down her spine. “Spread your legs for me.” He smiled when her thighs widened, and he reached to pull up her skirt. “Good girl,” he praised, he rested both his palms on her thighs, rubbing along the length of them. “Is this, okay?” 

It was a few seconds, and she released a steady breath and nodded. “Yes,” she answered meekly.  

“At any point, if I make you feel uncomfortable, you stop me, okay?” He needed her to answer him, agreeing and understanding. 

“Okay.”  

“You continue to focus on your music,” he whispered, “and I’ll focus on you.” 

The moment his fingertips brushed against her panties; Y/n flinched. He wouldn’t have noticed but for just a millisecond there, her finger slowed, causing her to go off-tune. Only an expert would have caught it.  

Her lower lip was already trapped between her teeth as she remained quiet. She channeled her focus to her fingers, trying to keep the tingling feeling at the core of her pussy at bay. Can he feel how wet she was? 

“You’re so wet, already?” Toru chuckled, “is it for me?” his finger rubbed a gentle circle around her clit. “Answer me, Y/n?” he pleaded.  

“Y - yes.” She didn’t need to turn back and look to know he had his boyish grin.  

Her breath hitched when he trailed his fingers along her slit, teasing her and making her toes curl.  

The weight of his other palm lifted from her thigh, and she feels the cool air meeting her pussy as he pulled her panties to the side. His fingertips now pressed against the wetness of her pussy, spreading her juice. 

“To - Toru...”  

“You can’t be distracted, remember?” He pressed a kiss to her nape, his fingers itched badly to feel what the inside of her pussy would be like. “Keep your legs spread,” he reminded, teasing her as the tip of his middle finger would probe the opening. Her breath quickened but her fingers remained calm, moving across the piano with no problem.  

With the rhythm of the music, his fingertip would move in and out and would probe deeper each time.  

As Y/n’s fingers moved quickly, so did his fingers.

One… two… three… she counted each mistake she was making in her head and gave up as she no longer cared. It wasn’t like Toru knew the tune anyway and could distinguish the wrong notes played.

Toru nipped the junction between her neck and shoulder, and he slipped two fingers inside of her, groaning when her hot walls clamped around them. With his other hand, he released her panties and hooked one of her thighs, hiking it enough to not interfere with her hand movements.  

Y/n’s head rolled back and continued to keep playing, nonetheless. At last, she let out a soft moan and chanted his name; it rolled off the tip of her tongue beautifully with the music.  

“Toru... I’m - I’m so close.”  

His nose graze along her neck until his lips met her ear as he nipped, “if you cum before you finish with this piece, I get a wish then?” 

“O - okay...” 

Toru pressed his thumb against her clit and pumped his fingers faster. He felt her tense up and tightened his arm around her leg.  

Her pussy clenched around his fingers. They were long and reached her sensitive spot, stimulating her upcoming orgasm.

“No - wait – Toru!”  

Her fingers slipped, pressing the wrong key.

“Ah!” Her hand abandoned the keys and gripped his wrist that is pumping faster.  

With no more music, the only sound audible is her whimper and the lewd noise each time his fingers pump into her pussy.  

“Toru - wait... I’m going to cum,” she gripped the top of her piano, head dropping forward as her body tremble in a release.  

His fingers slowed down but continued to keep pumping until her walls finally stopped convulsing around them.  

“You!” she spun around, shooting him a glare over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed.

“I get a wish?” Toru smiled at her innocently, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them.  

She grabbed his wrist, forcing him to withdraw his fingers and whatever she was going to say was forgotten as she stood up and pressed her lips against his.  

. . .

E/n: Toru is so daddy...

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @rukia-uchia-98 @anejuuuuoy @tooruchiiscribs @mommyourcall420 @haikyuubiggestsimp @lilguycoded @random-734 @ghostlyneckoaftoad @abcde12345 @shotenvinsoot @princess-sunshyn @anonymoussimper @junglewoos @basically-an-anime-stan-acct @mih311 @m1nt-3lla @qualitygiantshoepsychic

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa angast #oikawa fluff #oikawa smut #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru smut #oikawa toru fluff #oikawa tōru

[engie-ivy]

(@wolfstarmicrofic Wolfstar loosely based on the movie Stardust)

10th: Myth

843 words

He Who Possesses the Heart of a Star

Remus barely manages to find a table to have his morning tea and read his paper. The fact that the cafés, bars and restaurants are all overflowing with people definitely proves that tourist season is well on its way, and every year, their picturesque small town seems to attract more visitors.

Remus is sitting outside on a terrace overlooking the town square. He would’ve preferred a bit more shadow, but as he’s lucky to have found a place at all, he really can’t complain. At the table next to him, a mother with two young children is seated, the family definitely being tourists. The mother is flipping through the menu, while the boy, probably around twelve years old, is reading from a travel guide to his little sister.

“They say that over three hundred years ago, a star fell from the sky and landed right in this very town,” the boy says. “The crater can actually still be seen at the west side. And it was not just any star! It was Sirius, before that fateful moment the brightest star in the sky.” He looks over the book towards his little sister, who’s looking at him with big eyes, and he continues in a low, ominous voice. “As it is said that possessing the heart of a star can grand you eternal life, this town was soon overflowing with power-hungry knights, savvy traders, opportunistic adventurers, hopeful thieves, ambitious warlocks and, most of all, ugly witches longing to have their youth and beauty back,” he reads. “All wanting to rip out the heart of the star and live forever!”

His little sister shrieks, and their mother gives the boy a stern look.

“But alas, the star was never found,” the boy quickly finishes.

“Because it is only a myth,” their mother says soothingly to the little girl, before turning to the boy. “So stop scaring your sister with silly stories!”

“But the crater is really here, though!” The boy says. “Can we go see, mum? Please?”

Remus puts his empty mug down and fishes some coins out of his pocket that he drops on the table, before standing up to make his way home.

Walking westwards, Remus passes the tour guides showing groups around town and the groups of tourists taking pictures of the old town house. He walks past the shop at the corner, where there used to be a weaver for three generations long, until it was turned into a tailor, even a candle maker for some time, and then into a grocery for a few decades. Now, it is a flashy shop where they sell Oreo waffles with Nutella topping or something like that.

As Remus comes home, his husband is lying on the couch scrolling through his smartphone.

“Those things are really going to be the downfall of society,” Remus scoffs.

His husband looks up with a raised eyebrow. “You said the same thing when they invented the TV, and who needs to watch his favourite shows now every night?”

Remus glares at him, and his husband sighs and puts his phone away. “Okay, what has gotten you in such a mood?”

“This town is becoming more of a tourist trap with each passing year. Nothing is like the good old days anymore,” Remus grumbles.

His husband rolls his eyes. “Okay, grandpa.”

“Oi! I look much younger than I am,” Remus protests as he sits down on the couch next to his husband.

“Oh, I don’t deny that,” his husband chuckles as he lies down with his head in Remus’ lap. “But on the inside, you’re just a grumpy old man.”

Remus almost automatically starts carding his fingers through his husband’s hair, who closes his extraordinary silver eyes, and here, in the safety and comfort of their own home, starts softly glowing.

“I guess the tourists do make the place more lively,” Remus admits.

His husband hums contently. “And they are a whole lot better than those starhunters who used to come here.”

“Did you know they still tell that story?” Remus asks. “It’s actually in the travel guides.”

His husband opens his eyes. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Remus grins. “All about how people came from all over the world searching for Sirius, the brightest star that had fallen from the sky, lured by the promise of eternal life.”

“Well, as obnoxious as they were, I suppose I can’t blame them,” his husband says. “I mean, it is quite something, isn’t it?” He takes Remus’ hand and places it over his heart, covering it with his own. “To live forever because you completely possess the heart of the brightest star?”

Remus regards his husband with a well-known surge of affection and a strong and familiar feeling of love, regards the man who crashed into his life all those years ago and has made his every day brighter since, literally and figuratively. “Yes,” he replies. “It is quite something indeed.”

No man can live forever, except he who possesses the heart of a star, and Sirius had given his to Remus completely.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #stardust au

[darlingshane]

Expensive Delights: Part 4

Julian Kaye x F!Reader

— Read below or at AO3.

Summary: Julian didn’t know how heavily that was weighing inside him. He doesn’t give it much thought nowadays. Hearing you say that, only validates those restless nights in prison that had him wondering if it was his fault or not. He wondered if he should have gone into a different direction after being released, instead of falling into old habits. But he promised himself that it'd be under his own terms this time. 

Word Count: 22,3k (7 Chapters)

— Rating: 18+

Warnings!!!! Explicit, Smut, Male Escort, Voyeurism, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Menstrual Sex, Public Sex, Public BJ’s, Mild Anal Play, Attempted Sexual Assault, Mention of Attempted Sexual Assault, Murder, Attempted Murder, Mention of Grooming, Mention of Underage Sex, Mention of Past Abortion, Kidnapping, Sex Club, Trauma, PTSD, Smoking, Guns, Non-Con Touching, Non-Con Drug use, Non-Con Kissing.

A/N: This part came out very dark, angsty, and with a lot of warnings. They're all listed above, make sure to go through those before jumping into it.  Julian and Reader go through a lot, so buckle your seatbelt and read with caution. Also, this might contain 2 potential spoilers. I've made up the plot of this part out of tidbits of information about the show, and I'm predicting that at least one of those will happen.

Links: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Series Masterpost / AO3

Chapter 1: Exposé

 “How well do you know Julian?”

It's a question you've been fearing. It comes out of one of your best friend's mouth. The three of them– Eve, Sasha, and Yvonne sat you down when you went back to Portland to collect the rest of your belongings and sort some things out in your old apartment.

It was official. You were going to move permanently to Los Angeles, and you couldn't afford to keep a lease to a place you barely lived in anymore. So, after finishing your tour on the east side of the country, you went back to Portland.

Before you could attend to any of that, you found yourself in the middle of an intervention that your close-knit group of friends staged. They found out what Julian truly did for a living and ganged up on you, trying to convince you to really think things through before moving away for good.

They explained that someone recognized Julian in one of the photos Von had on the display wall in her studio. It was a former classmate, Claire from high school, who came into her shop. According to this woman that you’ve only talked to twice in your life, she had a friend who worked with Martina Duvall– young billionaire extraordinaire, big LA socialite, and heir to Duvall Cosmetics along with her three sisters. Claire boasted about being invited to Martina’s 25th week-long birthday party in a yacht and the set of boy toys the billionaire had hired for her and her friends’ entertainment. One of them was Julian– Martina's personal favorite.

Not only that, but they went further and searched for anything on him and discovered about his time in prison too from old news clips on the internet.

It’s not the fact that they found out about Jules that's bothering you. Had it been up to you, you would’ve told them the truth a long time ago, but it was never your truth to tell. It was his. And he chose to keep it a secret for this exact same reason.

The judgmental look on their faces, plus the earnest sympathy for you cause they think he had duped you somehow, and the time they put into investigating him, is what truly shocks you. You’ve always had very open-minded friends, but at this moment they’re showing just the opposite.

“He never lied to me,” you have to explain, “I knew who he was from the beginning and I know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Okay, so he’s an escort, that’s fine. We can look past that,” says Sasha, “but he’s also a murderer. Doesn’t that worry you?”

“No, cause he isn’t. He was set up.”

“That’s what he told you?” Von scoffs, “are you hearing yourself? He was set up. That’s gotta be one of the oldest excuses in the book, along with my dog ate my homework.”

“That’s the fucking truth,” you mutter, exasperated, with an eye roll.

“We’re just looking out for you, hon. You have a tendency of picking the wrong guys.” Eve words out in a condescending tone, “And right now, you’re about to do something drastic you might regret one day. We’re just asking you to really think it through before it becomes another Logan situation.”

“Fuck you, Evie!” you breathe fire through your mouth and nose at the audacity of her trying to compare this to what happened with your ex, “this is nothing like Logan’s.”

“You haven’t been the same since,” Sasha adds, “and you don’t seem like yourself right now… I mean, you even blew that meeting with that agent I set you with the other day. You’ve never done something like that.”

“Are you serious right now? That meeting was a joke,” you pause, “I didn’t blow it. That agent was a fucking sleaze bag. He got all over me in the first five minutes and wanted me to blow him off. How’s that? Do you think I shoulda stay, huh?” you pause again, and swallow, showing a firm hand, “that’s really unprofessional of you to bring that up in the middle of this, Sasha. This is not the place.”

She stares at you, perplexed, and suddenly her gaze falls to the ground, mumbling her apologies.

“If you guys were truly looking out for me, you would ask about how I feel. You’d listen to what I’m saying cause it’s really not sinking in… I love Jules, and he loves me. He’s nothing like Logan. He’s never lied to me or hurt me. And the only thing I’ll regret one day, is doubting myself and not moving out faster.”

This argument was just the cherry on top after the disastrous trip you’ve had. You were prepared to have some setbacks, but everything went from smooth sailing to dire straits the second you flew to New York and then came back. You didn’t have time to recover from nearly being sexually assaulted when you were forced to sit and listen to all this. You haven’t even told Julian yet cause didn't want to do it via phone.

With a heavy heart, you pack half the stuff you had left here and donate the other half.

You were supposed to stay for another week but as soon as the paperwork is done, and all your things are sorted, you just want to go back to your new home. So, you book the first fly available that you can find.

After handing out the keys and leaving the building for the last time to wait for your cab, Sasha shows up.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I don’t have much time,” you stand on the stoop, clutching the handle of your suitcase in your fist.

“Look, I'll get straight to the point,” she draws some air and gestures with a hand, “I talked to the agency and told them what that creep Gillespie did to you. They just called me back, apologized, and said that they're still interested in meeting with you. They're sending someone new here if you want.”

“Why are they doing that?”

“What do you mean, why, babe? You're killing it right now. They're not dumb. Just tell me when you're ready, and I schedule it for you. It'll be someone legit this time. I'm making sure of that.”

“Thanks. I uh, I owe you an apology…” you look down for a beat, “you’ve been asking me for months to get off duty and I haven’t listened. It was really easy for me just to work with you, cause I’ve known you forever.”

“No need to apologize. I love working with you, but there are some barriers I can’t cut through like someone who’s an actual agent would… I’ve been winging it, really.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re doing amazing. And whoever they send, they'll never be as good as you.”

“So, we're cool?”

“We're cool.”

“Wait…” she then notices your baggage next to you, “you’re leaving already? I thought you were staying a few more days.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Because of our conversation the other day?”

You nod, “there’s nothing to think through. I already did… for months. It’s not a decision that I made overnight, like Evie said. I love Julian and I know what I’m doing. You don’t have to like it, or him. You just gotta accept it. And if I changed somehow… it wasn’t because of him. He’s not manipulating me in any way… this all just me, finally doing what I always wanted to do.”

“That’s the other thing I came here to say. I’m sorry too… It wasn’t right the way we cornered you like that… or how I brought the meeting up without talking to you first in private, that was only our business. I’ve been thinking about what you said… and even though I can’t help worrying about you… I do trust you, and I accept that you’re doing what it’s best for you. I’ll always have your back a hundred percent.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, keeping tears away from rolling down your cheeks.

“I know you do, you always had… and I’m sorry about the way I reacted. I didn’t wanna keep that from you. I can only tell you that Jules has never fooled me and I’m fully aware of what I’m getting into.”

“So, you really love him?”

“I do,” you sigh, watching the cab pulling up at the end of the street.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened in the meeting?”

“No, not now. Cab’s here.”

“Well, call me then.”

“I will.”

She hesitantly extends an arm in your direction, and you release the handle of your suitcase to give your friend a tight hug before parting.

“Don’t be a stranger, hotshot,” she kisses your cheek and lets you go.

By the time you arrive at Los Angeles it’s already night and Julian picks you up from the airport.

Even though you made up with Sasha, you’re still emotionally drained from everything and barely have anything to say during the ride. He knows about your friends, but you still haven't built up the courage to tell him about what happened in New York, and it keeps gnawing at you.

Back home, you change into comfortable clothes, order some food and sit at the breakfast bar to have your meal.

“Are you mad that they found out about me or what they told you about what happened at the yacht?”

“Neither,” you say, playing with your fork, tidying your thoughts, “it's the way that they chose to share that with me… made me feel like a child who didn't know any better.”

“No matter how you look at it, there's no right way to tell someone something like that.”

“Are you taking their side?”

“No, baby. The only side I'm taking is yours … I'm just playing devil's advocate here. I'd like to have friends who cared about me like that. And if I were in their shoes, I'd worry too about seeing you dating someone like me.”

“You're sweet,” you extend your hand to the side and pet his hair, “I wish they could see this side of you.”

“Just give them time to adjust. They'll come around like Sasha did.”

He's right, sooner or later you'll sit down again with them and probably laugh about the whole thing, but right now it still hurts a little.

“Oh, I forgot to show you something,” he licks his thumb and rises from the bar stool to procure his phone.

On the screen, he shows you a picture of a dog, an adult Siberian Husky, with five newborn-pups curled close to her.

“They’re Bailey’s,” he explains, “you said once you wanted a dog, and she’s given them for adoption. Asked her if she could save one for you if you want.”

You stay silent, staring at the lovely picture.

“You don’t have to decide right now… they gotta stay at least another month or two with their mom.”

“No, I’ve always wanted to have one,” you glance at him, as he lays his phone down on the counter, “I’d love to, but… are you sure we’re ready to have a puppy right now?”

“It's not like we’re having a kid.”

“Still, it is a big step.”

“Bigger than you moving in with me?”

You shake your head, and exhale, “can I think about it?”

“Yeah, take your time, baby.”

After dinner, you fall half-asleep on the couch watching TV while he does the dishes.

“C'mere, sweetheart,” Julian carefully picks you up and transports you to bed.

Curling to your side, you tuck your arms to your chest, as he settles behind you, hugging your body.

He then kisses your ear, having his hand nicely massaging your bare thigh in circles, switching from using his fingers to knead and brush his knuckles afterwards. You try closing your eyes but instead of lulling you to sleep it evokes your mind and body to wake up.

“Hmm, Julian, baby, you're turning me on.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” he scoffs, and nips at your neck just to tease you further.

“It is. I got my period yesterday.”

“You know, I don’t give a fuck about that.”

“I know you don't,” you smile to yourself, sending a hand back to caress his head, “but last time we did, we made a mess out of the sheets. It looked like a crime scene.”

His laugh is printed on your skin before pulling his head back, “you want me to stop? We have all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

You glance over your shoulder to find his eyes, “no, I don't want you to stop.”

His head bows to capture your lips slowly while his hand slips between your legs. You're so sensitive, he doesn't have to press hard to have you bucking against his hand.

When you press your ass back against his crotch, you feel him swelling. You push harder, earning you a groan that vibrates into the kiss.

“Wanna take your cup out, honey?” he purrs, and pecks your lips twice more, sending a shiver down your spine.

How does he even make that sound sexy is unbeknownst to you.

You comply with his wishes and disappear into the bathroom to remove and clean your menstrual cup while he lays a couple of towels on the bed.

Admittedly, no matter how messy it gets, some of the best orgasms you've had were during your period. Especially with him. You've never had a boyfriend who was as ready to go with your flow as Julian is.

Sans clothes now, you climb into bed with him and return to your former position, lying on your side, with your back leaned on his chest.

“This is how you want it, sweetheart?” Jules peppers your neck with kisses, letting his palm mold the bared plane of your curves.

“Yeah,” it comes almost in a half gasp.

Your body temperature seems cooler than your center, and you drape a thin sheet over your body while he adjusts your top leg, so he can penetrate you better.

“Go slow, baby,” you request as he lines up and breaches your entrance smoothly.

“Like this?” His hips sensually wave, slipping in and out gently out of you.

“Yeah… that's perfect, Jules,” your lips part against the pillow, as your top hand clutches to his muscled thigh, following his movements.

His warm breath covers the curve between your neck and shoulder with sweet praises and I love yous, as his hand massages your tender breasts with great care.

Your thighs are quickly coated in a layer of your fluids the more he moves. When you're close, his fingers travel between your legs, blindly finding your clit. He easily tips you over the edge and has you moaning at his name with gentle circles, and the twitching of his cock.

It feels really intense, and somewhat oddly amazing when your walls clench around him.

He carefully slips out, letting the hot mixture of you and him gush down your leg. You feel it at the back of your thigh and reach with your hand to wipe yourself with the towel and roll the fabric around your waist. Mess avoided.

He wipes his fingers and cock and engulfs you in his arms once more.

“You're so beautiful like this,” he coos, kissing your jaw, reiterating, “so damn beautiful.”

You huff a breathless laugh and tilt your head to the side, so you can see and seize his plump lips.

Sighing pleased, you capture his mouth with love, exploring his kiss as you keep melting, and falling deeper for him, if that's even possible anymore.

Chapter 2: Deep Waters

A few days after you've fully settled, things start looking up again… for a millisecond. This hasn’t been your month so far, and no matter how happy you are when you’re with Julian, there are things happening outside the world you’ve made with him that could burst your little bubble of happiness.

Julian is reclined on one of the loungers by the pool in the patio, clad in flowered-trunks, an unbuttoned shirt, and aviators, reading the paper like an old man while you swim laps.

“Hey,” you stop after a few minutes and splash some water on him to claim his attention, “are you gonna come in, or you're just going to sit there looking pretty all morning?”

He snorts, peeking at you behind the newspaper, “you're the one who wanted to swim.”

“Yeah, it feels good. You should try it,” you brace your arms on the edge of the pool and rest for a minute, kicking your legs slowly in the mass of water.

“I prefer watching you.”

“Oh, I see, you don’t wanna mess up your beautiful hair,” you keep messing with him.

His lips turn into a smirk and after a second he sets the paper on the floor, removes his sunglasses, and shrugs off his shirt as he stands up; making you regret your words by the way he playfully looks at you.

You push yourself off the edge and swim backwards, as he elegantly steps into the water by sitting on the edge first, and submerging himself fully before swimming underwater towards your direction.

When he reaches you, he grabs your waist, and pulls himself up, emerging to the surface in front of you.

“What did you say, again?” He breathes out.

Huffing a laugh, you push his hair off his forehead and link your arms around his neck.

“I said that you’re too vain for swimming.”

“Am I now?”

“Uh-hmm. I’m pretty sure you’ve never used the pool until I got here.”

His lips frown downward quickly, amused, as you kiss the bridge of his nose.

“C'mere,” he secures his feet at the bottom, grabs your legs, and tucks them around his hips.

Having his hands holding your ass, he licks his lips and cocks his head to capture your mouth. His tongue delves past your teeth and twirls firmly with yours.

You hum into the kiss, clutching harder to his neck as his bulge bumps with your center.

“Jules,” you mumble, noticing him getting a hard-on behind the fabric.

“What is it, honey?”

“People are going to see us.”

“You're getting shy now? Didn't you give me a handy in a restaurant once?”

“Ugh, don’t say handy like that. And that was different,” you chuckle, “these are our neighbors.”

“You should've thought of that before getting me to swim with you, huh?” he pushes you further back until you're pressed between his body and the wall of the pool.

All of a sudden, the wind is knocked out of you when he fuses his lips with yours, clearly determined and enticed on having you begging for more. Underwater, he presses and rubs himself against you, earning a moan out of you.

His lips then move away to nibble at your neck as one of his hands finds a way to curl beneath your leg and tease at your entrance over the fabric of your swimwear.

“Jules, baby, let's go upstairs,” you gasp, “please.”

“Yeah?” he gives a final lick to your neck and quickly ushers you out of the pool.

You can barely restrain from tearing each other's swimsuits in the elevator. As soon as you're inside the apartment, clothes fly off and with no time to get to the bedroom, he bends you over the back of the couch. He massages your clit with the blunt, hard tip of his cock before sinking into your opening. He frames your hips and slams into you with unbridled passion until you're filled with him.

It's not even noon when you relax on the couch and go at it once more. Slowly this time. Facing him, you drape your leg over his hip and guide his length into you.

Sharing his warmth breath, you nip at his bottom lip, as you rock your hips back and forth, swallowing him whole.

His top arm curls beneath your hip, extending his fingers to drag your juices to your asshole. He smears them around the sweet nerves of your tight orifice with a nice massage.

“You're gonna make me come,” you heavily pant.

“That's the idea,” he grins, pressing a little harder, “how does it feel?”

“Good… so fucking good,” your lips curve up, utterly mesmerized and overtaken by the electricity of his fingers exploring new places of your body.

“Oh God, I love you,” you moan as your walls flutter by surprise around his cock.

“Not as much I love you, sweetheart,” he exhales, removing his fingers off you, having his cock twitching in the middle of your orgasm, coating your walls a second time.

You’re both absolutely spent after that, and after lunch you take a little nap.

That has been the best part of your day so far.

Things roll into a different direction in the afternoon after Eli, Julian’s friend and associate, shows up, bringing Jules’ convertible from the car wash and his dry-cleaning.

“Can’t believe he makes you pick up his clothes too,” you say amused.

“Hey, he pays well.”

“I bet he does.”

You go out for a walk and pick up some groceries while they talk business.

When you come back, Eli is gone and Julian is tensely braced to the kitchen bar, staring at your phone.

“What's wrong?” you ask, leaving the grocery bag on the counter, standing on the other side of the bar, parking your ass on one of the stools.

“Who's Adam Gillespie?”

You swallow, as your stomach suddenly drops, “where did you hear that name?”

He points at your phone, frowning at you, “you left it here… it was blowing up, so I took the call and this guy started yelling like an asshole about getting fired because of you. He said that you were going to regret ever opening your mouth, and threatened to ruin your life for being a… so, I'm asking who's Adam and what the hell is he talking about?”

“I uh, this is not how I wanted to tell you,” you sigh, glancing at your hand as you anxiously scrape the skin of your thumb. “I didn't know he was fired… on my last day in New York I had a meeting with him, and we barely got to talk when he got…he got his hands on me and tried to kiss me…”

“Did he hurt you?”

Your eyes sting, welling up quickly, unable to put a sentence together.

“No… not physically… he said that… you know, the usual… that if I get to my knees and… he'd make sure I'd have a great career… I just… I pushed him off and ran… I told Sasha, and she called his agency, and I guess they weren't happy about it.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I was going to… I wasn't ready yet.”

“Why not? Don’t you trust me?”

“Why are you making this about you? I just told you that I wasn't ready. I was embarrassed, and wanted to forget about it, alright?”

“I thought we weren’t keeping secrets.”

“That’s ironic!” your anxiousness suddenly snaps into anger.

“What does that supposed to mean? I’ve told you everything.”

“You think I don’t know that you’re texting and calling your clients when you’re home? How I’ve been pretending not to notice when you sneak out to smoke?”

“That’s different. That is for work.”

“Well, that was a business meeting for me, so how is it any different? And I've never given you permission to pick up my phone. I don't care if it was on fire, I never told you that you could.”

You stand up and storm towards the bedroom before letting him see you cry. You're not sure which part makes you angrier and sadder. The fact that he didn't react like you expected him to, or that he invaded your privacy like that. He knows about your ex, so he's clearly aware that picking up your phone wasn't the best idea.

You slam the door shut and bury your face in the pillow, wanting to scream your lungs out of your chest.

Julian, on the other hand, feeling like an asshole, stays unmovable from his position; chocked up and annoyed at himself from not handling that better. He was betrayed by his own insecurities that feared you were keeping this from him on purpose before he could process what was done to you. He couldn't even bring himself to yell at that asshole when he picked up the phone.

He’s now stunned by the thought of someone trying to hurt you, and gives himself a timeout to find the right words to say before talking to you again.

A beep goes off from his phone reminding him that he has to leave in an hour, so ready or not, he arms himself with courage and love and cautiously enters the bedroom. He finds you crumpled on your side of the bed, clutching the pillow.

You’re done crying, but you still refuse to look at him when you hear the door closing.

“Sweetheart…” you feel the bed shifting as he sits on the edge.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” it comes out watery out of your throat.

“I won't. I was just going to say that I’m sorry… You’re right. I shouldn’t have picked up your phone or pry that out of you in that manner. I just… I heard him say all those things about you and I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“You thought that I’d lie to you?”

“No, it wasn’t that…” he pauses, “can you look at me, baby?”

You shake your head.

“Then, tell me what to do. I just want you to feel comfortable talking to me about anything.”

“I don’t know… It felt like you were judging me, Jules.”

“I wasn’t, baby. I swear. It’s not an excuse, but this, what you and I have, is very new to me… I've never lived with a partner before, and I have my insecurities too. But I didn't think for a second that you were making it up… you didn't deserve that… and if I could, I'd knock the lights out of that motherfucker right now.”

You sigh, processing his words.

“What are you insecure about?”

“That one day you'd realize that I'm not good enough for you, and see that there are better men suited for you out there. I still wake up every day wondering how I got you… you're everything I've ever wished for and more. And you’re absolutely right, I have my secrets too, and If I screw this up… I don't know what I'd do without you… did I screw up?”

“No, you didn't screw up. You just saved yourself,” you finally glance over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you swallow the knot in your gullet and tentatively reach with your hand.

“Can I touch you now?”

You nod, and he picks your hand, lifting it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“What secrets are you keeping from me?” You wonder, and sit up, crossing your legs.

“There’s…” his voice wavers, “there’s something that I never told you about how I started, how I became an escort.”

“You said Anne introduced you to that world.”

“She did.” He pauses and exhales, “I don’t want you to think less of me if I tell you this.”

“Jules, I'm not gonna, I promise.”

“Okay,” he clears his throat and after a moment of gathering his thoughts he confides in you that he was groomed by Anne when he was only 16. She was 30, and he didn’t know how inappropriate that was, or had any notion of what grooming meant at the time. Being with an older woman was something he and his friends had been fantasizing about since they hit puberty, and he never thought twice of saying no to her offer. He used to clean her pool and care for her garden and plants, and one day she asked him if he wanted to make some extra money. That little extra took him to her bedroom, where she took the top of her bikini and asked him to give her a massage. The first few times, it was just that. Then, it quickly escalated, and eventually she became the first woman he ever had sex with, and the first who ever paid him for it. He was caught in her net and fell for it, completely. She taught him everything he knew, dressed him, and lavished him. But it wasn’t until he was 18 that she’d introduce him into the world, where she set him up with his second client right before he went to college. She even paid for half of that too to keep him close, he believes. And no matter if he did enjoy the experience, there’s no doubt in him that, as a grown ass man, he’d never do something like that to someone that age. It’s unthinkable to him. He got a few moments of clarity in prison, that was one of them. It was really fucked up, and kept him up at night for months.

You listen to it all, perplexed, and absolutely appalled at her behavior as he finishes telling the story…

“Sex and money were the same to me, she taught me that, and at some point I couldn’t have one without the other. Not until Michelle, and then… you. You both showed me what real love feels like, and that broke that idea that was implanted in me at a very young age. I guess finding out about Adam triggered something…”

You inhale sharply, having a huge knot building up in your throat.

“Please say something,” he pleads under his breath.

“I love you,” you say, plain and honest, extending your hand to caress his neck, “I’d never think less of you for that, Jules. It wasn’t your fault to be abused, the same way it wasn’t mine either. Nobody should be subjected to something like that.”

“But I couldn’t say no like you did.”

“Babe, you were a kid. We’re told that grown-ups know better since birth, and it isn’t until we’re old that we realized that half of them are fucked up. I saw how tense you were at the restaurant in Santa Barbara when we saw her; and the way she talked to you and called you Julie… it makes me sick to know that she used you like that and have the nerve to think that you'd even entertain the idea of working for her again.”

Julian didn’t know how heavily that was weighing inside him. He doesn’t give it much thought nowadays. Hearing you say that, only validates those restless nights in prison that had him wondering if it was his fault or not. He wondered if he should have gone into a different direction after being released, instead of falling into old habits. But he promised himself that it'd be under his own terms this time. To be honest, he doesn't believe he's that good at doing anything else, and likes both, money and sex, too much to give that up. He's living up to his promise, however. His work doesn't come first as it used to. His life with you is the most important thing to him, and given the chance, he'd go broke before letting go of you.

“Do you have any more secrets?” You ask, “maybe not as big as that one… if you do, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me too, y'know?”

“That was it. The things I do for work, they're not really a secret, baby. But I gotta keep those for your sake and their privacy. You have to understand that.”

“I do understand. I wasn't asking about work.”

He makes an effort to dive deep into his thoughts and shakes his head, “I got nothing else, then. Now you know everything about me. Is there anything you wanna tell me about?”

“Well… I guess it's only fair to tell you that I did something too when I was young that I never told anyone, not even my friends or my family.”

“What was it?”

“It wasn't anything bad. It was something very heavy and personal.” You grant yourself a couple of beats before uttering those words for the first time since it happened. It's odd to hear them out of your mouth, like it didn't happen to you, “I got pregnant when I was in college and I couldn't… I had an abortion as soon as I could. It really messed me out for a while. Though, I was positive that I'd never have kids, there were a few weeks when I felt like I'd done something really, really wrong.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, not all,” you quickly emphasize, “I've never wondered what if. I know it was the right choice.”

“Were you alone?”

“No, I had a boyfriend.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, he was very supportive. I was really nervous to tell him, but he stepped up and said he'd have my back no matter what I chose. He was with me every step of the way, and took care of me when I felt like a mess… I mean, It was as much his fault as it was mine. We were caught up in that haze of being so smitten with the other at the beginning that we ran out of condoms a couple of times and we both just said– fuck it,” you flicker a nervous smile.

“He sounds like a keeper. What happened to him?”

“Caught him cheating on me a year after that. Think he got another girl pregnant too… someone told me right before graduation.”

“Not a keeper, then.”

“Nope.” You smack your lips comically as the beeping of his phone goes off, “do you really have to go?”

“Yeah, it's one of my regulars. Why?”

“I just wanna keep talking to you like this,” you sit on your knees, link your arms around his neck, and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I want that, too, sweetheart,” he palms your back. “It'll be only a few hours. Want me to wake you when I come back?”

You slide your palm around his head, having your fingers caught massaging his earlobe sweetly, “Yeah, I'd like that.”

That conversation feels like the most taxing thing you've done in a while. But it's gratifying to be open like that with him. You don't like keeping secrets, but there are still parts of you that you hold to yourself because you're often afraid of being judged. And so does he. You could tell he was apprehensive of sharing that with you.

After composing yourself, you work on your computer while Julian gets ready for work.

He kisses you goodbye, and you spend another hour finishing an article for a magazine you occasionally write for.

When you’re done, you decide to go for another swim. It relaxes you. You’ve been doing it every other day before going to bed, and it works like a charm. Especially when it’s this hot.

Mrs. Rosenbaum from 4C had the same idea as you, and you chat some with her before she goes back up to have dinner with her husband.

It’s already dark, and after several laps you catch your breath at the end of the pool where you can stand, listening to the music blasting from a car parked on the other side of the wall.

You swim two more laps, and when your head emerges from the surface at the deeper end, it's suddenly pressed down back underwater by an unwavering hand, or two, you assume by the force that's put into it. It grips at your hair, which makes it impossible for you to swim away.

You can still hear the music muffled underneath as you gasp for air, try to yell, kick your feet in the water as hard as you can.

There’s a distorted shadow on the surface of the water when you manage to look up once. You fight it and fight it, growing weak by the second until the little breath you have left is replaced by water and everything goes black…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There’s a pressure on your diaphragm when your eyes open again, like a jolt, you start coughing up water violently. The burning that spreads through your lungs doesn’t ease up until you’ve expelled the tiniest drop that was clinging to your air passage. It leaves your chest hurting terribly bad.

Then, you notice someone talking to you, but you’re not sure who they are or what they are saying. They roll you to your side, soothing your back gently. You can only shiver and meltdown, unaware if this is a nightmare or if someone just tried to drown you for real.

You hear sirens, and suddenly you’re being moved again and checked out by the paramedics, you recognize, before they stretcher you into an ambulance.

After missing four calls from the lobby of the apartment building, Julian finally picks up the phone after stepping out of the shower. His heart almost shatters in his chest, hearing the night concierge giving him the news that one of the neighbors saw a man trying to drown you just minutes ago and that you were just taken to the hospital.

He doesn’t think twice. He quickly collects his car keys and hops into the convertible to drive back to Los Angeles. He’s an hour away and calls Eli to go check on you in the meantime.

With a steady lead foot on the pedal, he doesn’t stop until he’s at the hospital where they’ve taken you.

There are two officers that just took your statement who are heading out, and tell him what they know so far…

According to Robert, key witness and neighbor from apartment 2B– he saw a man holding you underwater from his window and ran down to your rescue. He alerted the concierge at the front desk, who called the police. By the time Robert got downstairs and out to the pool, the man had dragged your body out of the pool and was taking a picture of your almost lifeless body, stretched on the hard surface. The attacker was fully dressed in black, with gloves and balaclava masking his identity, and quickly climbed out the wall before they could get to him.

Your rescuers performed CPR on you, saving your life in a matter of minutes. They said you weren’t out for longer than two. Everything happened so fast, they couldn’t even tell.

It’s a relief to hear that at the end, but you’re still understandably shaken, and terrified.

Eli and his girlfriend haven’t left your side for the past hour, that has felt like a year. And when Julian comes into the room, you burst into tears.

He holds your hand, and you see his eyes become glossy under the fluorescent light.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says gruffly, gently wiping the tears off your cheek with his free hand. You can’t bring your mouth to say anything, so you just lean on his touch, and hold tightly to his hand.

Your friends quietly step out, giving you two a moment.

You pull his hand, and he settles next to you in the bed, cuddling you.

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

“You didn’t know,” you finally say, chocked up, “it could have happened anyway.”

“Still, I should’ve been with you…”

“You’re here now.”

He kisses your temple, feeling useless on how to comfort you better. The truth is that just him being here, holding you, makes you feel already safe.

Chapter 3: Kafkaesque

There are a lot of sayings about hope… right now, you only feel dread and despair making themselves at home in your chest. There are no feathers, or birds singing for you, only a shadow that shoves all promises and dreams deep into that pool along with you.

You can still taste the chlorine in your mouth when you wake up in the hospital bed. They kept you for the night to observe how your lungs and vitals responded before discharging you in the morning.

You dress up in clothes that aren’t yours, cause the only thing you had on when they brought you in was your swimsuit. It’s such a minuscule thing to care about; and when they hand you that piece of clothing in a hospital bag, you ask Julian to throw it away. That is a reminder you don’t want to hold on to.

When you arrive at the apartment building, you take the elevator straight up to the 8th floor to avoid bumping into anyone altogether. You don’t have much luck, though. When the doors open, there’s a determined woman poking around the hallway, waiting for you. A woman that seems to know Julian already.

“Mr. Kaye.”

“Detective Sunday.”

She then takes a good look at you, and her stoic expression grows more puzzled the longer she stares at you.

After a moment, she apologizes and introduces herself to you, badge and everything, telling you that she's been assigned to your case, and she'd like to talk to you.

“Now is not a good time,” Julian responds for you, keeping you close with one arm around you, as you make your way to the door.

“We can do this here or at the station. Whatever you prefer, ma’am.”

“It's okay, I'll do it,” you nod at Julian.

You'd rather not do this at all, but you wanna see that the person who did this to you is brought to justice.

Your boyfriend opens the door and gives the open space a glance-over before letting you in. He shows the detective to the dining table, where you can settle and talk. He brings you a soda and gets the coffee machine going, listening to you recount what you remember from last night.

Detective Sunday then explains that your file landed on her desk because she's been investigating a series of murders where women are being drowned. Her theory was very far-fetched when she drove here, but after meeting you, she's absolutely certain your attacker is the same who killed those women.

What surprised her a minute ago is the uncanny resemblance you share with the other victims.

Your throat tightly knots as she lays down on the table the pictures, showing the four women in just regular snapshots of their life before they were murdered.

“Do you recognize any of them?”

You shake your head, unable to pull your eyes away from the photos. You can see parts of yourself in these women. They all have a similar complexion to yours, same eye and hair color, features close enough in proportion; and all are roughly the same age.

“What does it mean?”

“We don’t know yet?”

“But you have a theory?”

“My best guess is that someone is infatuated with you.”

What leads the detective to that conclusion is that he not only let you live, but the attacker slightly changed his MO. The other women were drugged prior to being murdered. It’s almost ritualistic, she explains. They were first injected with the drug, then they were drowned and placed somewhere nearby outside the water in a very specific position.

According to your blood work from mere hours ago, you weren’t administered a sedative like they had. He wanted you to feel it for whatever twisted reason he made up in his mind.

There’s also the other factor that got her here–  your tattoo. The officer who took your statement at the hospital saw it printed on your skin and made a note about it on his report.

“Can you show me your arm?”

You lift your arm to let her see the dragonfly inked near your wrist, on the outer side of your forearm.

She proceeds to take a picture of it and question you when you got it and if it has any special meaning to you.

“I got it when I was 18. It was something my friend sketched that I liked,” you shrug and take a sip of your soda, “what does it have to do with all this?”

“Well, we've kept it under wraps, but the four women had the same tattoo temporarily placed on their arms.” She opens the folder placed between her elbows, “I'm going to show you another picture, and you tell me if it's the same or not.”

You nod, and she slides a photo across the table that shows a close up of an arm where you can clearly see the tattoo is basically a copy of yours.

Julian joins you at the table, placing a mug with coffee for the detective, and sits down on the chair next to yours.

“Why me?” You swallow and shift uncomfortably on your seat, glancing at their photos, “why them?”

“I'm not sure yet,” Sunday pauses to taste her coffee. “How long have you two been together?”

You look at the other and respond to a series of questions about your relationship.

“Do you have any enemies? A disgruntled ex-boyfriend, maybe?” she asks next, and you look at Julian.

“Tell her,” he utters, placing a gentle palm on your lower back.

Sighing, you proceed to tell her about your ex, Logan Palmer, and that psycho that called yesterday to say he was going to ruin your life. You doubt Adam Gillespie has anything to do with this, but the detective takes note of everything.

“When did you last see your ex?”

“Three years ago.”

“And you didn’t extend that initial restraining order?”

“No. Last I heard, he went back to Canada, and I didn’t think he’d be a problem anymore.”

“I’ll look into it. What about you, Mr. Kaye, did you make any enemies in prison?”

His lips frown downwards, “No. I kept my head down.”

The detective stays silent for a long moment, going through her papers.

“Why did he take a picture of me?” your voice trembles when you ask that out loud.

Julian’s hand soothes up and down your back.

“We don’t know yet. All women were found in a very specific position, like he was staging a photo, or a painting… and for your neighbor's statement, you were placed just like that.”

“Were they raped?” you question right after that.

Sunday shakes her head, “nothing indicated in the examination that they were forced into having sex.”

“But they could have.”

“For what the records show, they didn't suffer. They were treated gently; worshiped almost,” she says in the same stern, monotone voice.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” your voice breaks, “a psychopath held me underwater until I couldn’t breathe. That didn’t feel gentle… It was more violent than you can imagine.”

“No, you're right. I can't imagine. I'm sorry, ma'am,” you see the calculating woman hesitate for the first time.

You look to the side, swallowing a sob, wiping the tears sliding down your face.

“What now, Detective?” Asks Julian.

“She's our only lead right now. I'm going to put a detail on her until we get more information.”

“What about the security cameras?”

“My officers are on it right now, but this guy is highly skilled. He's managed to trespass any security system he's encountered, and there's no trace of him anywhere.”

“Have you checked into that? Maybe he's some sort of… hacker.”

“We're looking into every angle, Kaye,” she tucks everything back into her folder, “if you don't have any more questions or information, we're done for now.”

“Software engineering,” you mumble, without looking at her, “Logan. That's what he does. I'm not sure if that…”

“Got it,” the detective notes that, before reminding you lastly, “It goes without saying that what you just heard is all confidential.”

She leaves a card on the table with her contact information, and Julian shows her to the door.

You walk up to the balcony to see the patio far down below, where maintenance is cleaning the pool like nothing ever happened.

After the door is closed, Julian calls your name softly, and you turn your head to the side.

“You have to call Sasha,” he tells you.

“I uh… I’ll do it later.”

“Babe… you can’t put it off. It’s better if they hear it from you and not the press.”

“Why would the press say anything?

“This is LA, sweetheart. Everyone wants their pound of flesh. As soon as they find out, they’ll be lining up outside… I know it’s one hell of a thing to tell anybody, but your friends need to know.”

You gulp the knot in your throat and pick up your phone with much apprehension and call your friend Sasha.

Julian was right. Hours after you got home, news broke, and reporters started showing up at the doors of the building.

A week later, there are still a few showing up daily waiting for you to come out.

Given that you were the only one who survived out of the five, there’s been a lot of speculation in the news about you. You've kept the TV off, but according to Sasha, they’ve dissected any piece of your life they could find on the internet. Your online print has slowly grown in the past few months, so there’s a lot to dig into. Luckily, most of it is about your work, there are only a few real tidbits of yourself out in the open. Still, you have no interest in whatever the so-called experts in those crime shows have to say about you. And you cross your fingers, hoping this doesn’t splash or reflect badly on your friends or Julian. You’d hate to be the cause this interferes with their lives.

The phone hasn’t stopped ringing, either, to the point you had to shut it off for hours at a time.

It’s not something you're proud of at this moment, but after your identity was revealed, the book sales went off the charts, and suddenly everyone wants a piece of it. Because pain sells, you've been approached by more than one publisher that has offered insane amounts of money for a deal. It'd be great if any of them hadn't come with the pesky condition that in exchange you'd have to write an all-tell book about what happened to you. It might be naive and crazy to pass up an opportunity like that, but as tempting as it is, you don’t wanna cash in your trauma. It’s hard just to live with it as it is, and you’d never be comfortable selling that part of you.

On the other end, you got yourself caught researching the other victims, trying to find a link with them other than the obvious resemblance. Just a click away from your fingertips, you can easily find each of their names, their hobbies, where they lived, what they did for a living… It only serves to unsettle you even further.

You blame yourself for their deaths. Especially after that specific piece of information you got from Sunday. They were marked with the same dragonfly you have on your arm, as if someone was trying to make a copy out of you. For what purpose? You’re not sure. Maybe they’re just infatuated with you, like the detective said. Or perhaps they have a festering grudge towards you, and they’re trying to scare you.

Your mind unravels with all the information you get your hands into. If you had trouble sleeping, this just serves to fuel your restless state.

How does someone bounce from something like that unscathed?  You’ll probably need some help along the way. This has brought all the weakness to the surface you’ve worked so hard to push through, and they all paralyze you at once. It’s actually ridiculous, you can’t even take a bath without thinking of someone pushing your head underwater. You can’t sleep for more than an hour or two before reliving that in your dreams.

Detective Sunday calls a couple of times to give some information after digging into your former boyfriend; and Adam Gillespie. The latter has airtight alibis for each of the murders, and the night you were attacked. Logan, however, seems to be missing. He was in Ontario for a couple of years, but his current girlfriend, and mother to his one-year-old baby, reported his disappearance five months ago. It's really concerning given that's about the time when they found the first victim.

You haven’t left the apartment in 10 long days, though you had gone up to the rooftop, mostly at night with Julian, just to get some air and see the stars. He hasn’t left your side, either, other than to go pick up grocery deliveries and care packages your friends have sent. If something good has come up from this is that you’ve settled your disagreements with Von and Eve, and that’s been a huge help to get through this while the investigation is ongoing.

Julian has been incredibly patient and has put all his energy on making you feel comfortable that you feel that he’s put his life on hold for you, unconditionally. So, on the 11th day of your seclusion, you make an effort to get out of bed before he wakes up and prepare breakfast for him.

He's half awake when you carry the tray to the bedroom. His body stirs up at the smell, and turns to the side, and his mouth lovingly quirks up at the corners.

“Good morning, baby,” you whisper.

“Morning, honey,” he sits up against the headboard, and you place the tray on the mattress, so it’s hovering over his lap, “is this for me?”

Nodding, you lean closer and smooch his lips.

“Hmm, love some sugar in the morning,” she says gruffly, tracing your jaw with his fingers as you pull your head back. “Are we celebrating anything special?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Hm-huh,” you kneel by his side, let out a sight before rambling, “I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of me. You’ve gone up and beyond to make me feel safe, and I’ve been nothing but useless…”

“Babe-”

“No, let me finish, please… I’ve always been very independent, and now I feel like I can’t function if you’re not here, and it’s not fair to you or me… I know I’m going to be fine eventually. I just wish I could leap to the end. I hate feeling this scared all the time…”

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he opens an inviting arm, and you curl against his side as he presses his lips to your temple, “you don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you.”

“I wish we could just go somewhere and forget about this.” You contemplate, pillowing your head on his shoulder, having your fingers playing with his gold necklace.

“Yeah? Where do you wanna go, baby?”

“I don’t know… somewhere we can drink cocktails by the beach.”

“Hmm, I know exactly the place,” he picks up a piece of toast from the tray and starts devouring his breakfast with his free hand, “I’ll take you there for our anniversary.”

You smile to yourself and relax in his embrace while he finishes his food. You end up falling asleep. He rolls you carefully to the side and leaves you resting for a while.

A few minutes after starting his workout, he receives a message from Eli, who's telling him to turn on the news.

When he does, he’s absolutely dumbstruck by listening to the reported death of another woman in the same fashion as the other four. This one in particular, he knows personally. It’s his highest profile client to date– Martina Duvall. He was present during the extravagant celebration of her 25th birthday that lasted a week, and three other separate occasions she’d hired him.

Julian sits on the couch and watches Detective Sunday make a statement, announcing that she was found in her yacht, and confirming that it is the same MO.

One thing that puzzles him is that Martina doesn’t look anything like you. One would believe that it might be a copycat taking advantage of the open case to pin this on The Baptist– the name the media has chosen for the perpetrator. But Sunday herself wouldn't have made that official statement if she had any doubts. He trusts the detective surprisingly. Even if she was who arrested him in the first place 16 years ago.

His level of trust only reaches so far, and after turning off the TV, he texts Eli to come by. He needs to place a special order for something, a gun, and doesn't wanna ask over the phone.

He's not sure how deep this goes, but one thing he's certain is that he's going to do everything in his hand to protect you. If the killer has the intention of coming back here to finish the job, he's not going to get caught empty-handed.

It might not be the best idea, but he can't come up with anything better at this moment.

Julian looks out the balcony to see that the three reporters that were out in the street yesterday have multiplied again into 30 after Martina.

Then, he catches Detective Sunday making her way into the building, ignoring the questioning of the vicious attack of the press surrounding her.

Julian checks that you're still asleep and closes the bedroom door before having Sunday back in the living space.

She's not here for you this time, though. Her objective is questioning Julian after learning about his odd affiliation with Martina Duvall. She had him listed as her driver.

The detective confirms that Martina had the same drug in her system as the others, and the key temporary dragonfly tattoo placed on her arm. Those two clues haven't been made public, so certainly she can tell it is the same killer and not a copycat.

Sunday's theory veers into a different direction, however. She's not completely convinced someone is infatuated with you anymore. But without discarding that possibility, she plays with the idea of someone targeting you because of Julian.

There are a few other coincidences she’s discovered that have her believing someone wants to hurt Julian by going after you. The main reason being that a couple of hours ago, she found out that Martina was about to get married to someone twice her age. Nobody knew about it, except for her family and closest friends.

The man she was engaged to is about to make an appearance on TV, offering a 20k reward to whoever points them in the right direction of the killer.

His name is Richard Stratton, tech mogul and philanthropist, who was once married to Julian's old sweetheart, Michelle Stratton.

Julian told you about her a long time ago. They had an affair before he went to prison.

She visited him a handful of times at the beginning but after a few weeks, she moved to England, where his husband was expanding his business. From then on she'd sent letters that stopped after a while too. Much to his surprise, he received one 5 years ago when he was still in prison, where she explained that she had a kid and apologized for not staying in touch. He tried to reach back, but his letters were always returned. He figured she gave him a fake address, so her husband wouldn’t find out.

Like every flame, that one faded eventually. And Julian understood why she had to move on. They were nothing at all to begin with. He wasn't expecting her to wait for him those 15 years he spent locked up. It'd have been crazy if she had.

Not as crazy as discovering she died six months ago right here in Los Angeles in her house on The Hills. He saw her picture on the papers. Being married to Stratton took her to the front pages, but according to those, they were already divorced by the time of her death. Someone suspected foul play, and Stratton was investigated, but his alibi cleared him from suspicion.

They never said how she died, and Julian would’ve never imagined that today he’d find out she was found in her pool. She had hit her head on the edge and drowned for lack of assistance.

It was ultimately ruled an accident, but Sunday is not discarding any possibility right now.

If her new angle is correct, you might be in danger because of him, and he can’t have that.

Chapter 4: Between Two Lungs

You feel trapped in these four walls. They're like a cage. You could go outside if you wanted to. Nobody is stopping you; only yourself. You’re still too scared to do something as simple as taking a stroll or go swimming like you used to. You doubt you ever will again, at least not on your own. That’s how deep fear has reached you.

You’re holding your breath for this to be over, and you pray internally that it happens soon, so you can move on, start again, and do normal things you used to do instead of being obsessed 24/7 with the case. Every new piece of information just makes the puzzle more complicated. And after finding out about Martina and Stratton, you’re not sure what to believe anymore.

This evening, you shift gears and decide to have a little dinner date. An official one with candles, music, and wine.

You put on a simple wrap dress in your favorite color, and it helps to bring your old self back a little. It’s such a shallow thing to worry about, but you feel like you’ve been slowly disappearing into all those hours when you couldn’t get out of bed.

Julian reaches out from behind and loops the necklace he gave you for your birthday around your neck and clasps it at the back. It has a little half moon pendant that you touch for a moment, as his lips meet the curve of your neck.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he hums, and kisses the other side of your neck.

“Thanks, handsome,” you turn around to see him clad in jeans, and a black t-shirt that hugs his chest and biceps tightly. You smooth your hand on his arm, as you lean to capture his lips.

You have a lovely evening and enjoy a homemade meal you cooked earlier together for a change. You've been relying mostly on takeout for days now, and it feels nice to eat something you've prepared and has turned out to be good.

After dinner, with your hands clinging to his neck, you swing slowly to the music in the middle of the living room without shoes. His palms frame your hips, as his forehead touches yours.

His heart feels heavier than ever at this hour. You can feel it in the way he exhales and suddenly stops moving.

“I have to tell you something,” his voice comes lower than a whisper.

“What?” you scratch his nape softly.

“I uh… I bought a gun. Eli brought it this morning while you were sleeping.”

Letting the silence fill the room for a long moment, you close your eyes and process it.

“Why?” you simply protest, even though you know the answer to that.

“You know why.”

“Jules… I don't want you to get into trouble.”

“I won't. It's just a precaution.”

You inhale sharply, sliding your palms across his chest.

“Say something, sweetheart.”

“I just… I think you should give it back. I don't feel comfortable with it in the house.” While you can appreciate him wanting to protect you, you're not sure that this is the best way.

“It's locked in the safe. If everything goes right, it'll stay there.”

Taking a step back, and pulling away from his touch, you turn around and start clearing the table.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing. You're just not listening to me,” you go around the breakfast bar and put the plates in the sink.

“I’m listening… You want me to get rid of it and I can’t. It’s my job to protect you, and I’m simply not going to be caught off guard if anyone decides to come back and finish the job.” He braces his hands on the edge of the bar, watching you violently scrub the plates.

“That is not your job, Julian,” you counter, annoyed, “that’s what the police outside are for.”

“It’s just a gun. What is it really that you’re worried about?”

“It’s not just a gun. I’m worried…” you pause, take a deep breath, and turn off the faucet, “I’m worried that you’re going to get yourself hurt for me. All eyes are on us now… I hate it, but as long as they’re watching, nobody is going to try anything again… now tell me why you need to have it so badly.”

“I don’t need it. It’s just an extra measure,” he expresses, giving you only half the truth behind that choice of purchasing a weapon.

“Alright, don’t tell me,” you quickly dry your hands in a kitchen towel, and walk past him, heading towards the bedroom.

He swallows his pride and after a moment he trails behind you.

“Look, what do you want me to say? That I’m scared?”

“I want you to tell me the truth, Julian,” you respond quickly, having your voice wavering in your throat, “I know you’re as terrified as I am, but you’re playing with fire. The last thing we need right now is you getting caught with a gun.”

“Look, you’re right. I am terrified, but not for the reasons you think…” his head bows, taking a step forwards, so he can have you closer. He holds your face in his hands, meeting your gaze, as he utters, “I’m terrified cause I know this is my fault-”

“It isn’t,” you interrupt.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, sweetheart. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you, you got that?” he exhales, stating with passion, “nobody is going to put a hand on you again. So help me God… I don’t give a shit if I end up rotting in prison, as long as you’re safe. That's all that matters. Can you accept that? ”

“No, I can’t accept that,” your eyes well up, “I won’t have you doing anything stupid for me.”

“Well… what are you gonna do about that? How are you going to stop me?”

A tidal surge of mixed emotions makes your heart race between love and fright. It pushes you to lean and capture his lips to shut his mouth.

You anchor your hands to his sides as he lends you his breath and warmth. You feel it pass from his lungs to yours as the kiss grows more heated.

The pain ebbs at the edge of his kiss, and everything else fades as his tongue moves past your teeth.

“Hmm, touch me,” you urge, grabbing his hands and guiding them from your face to your hips.

He presses you against the wall, as his lips shift from sweet to vicious. He sucks your lip into his mouth, at the same time his hands blindly undo the strings holding your dress together and slip beneath the fabric to meet your skin. He smooths the plane of your body and grips at your ass, pushing his hips against yours.

As you circle your arms around his neck and find his tongue again, he molds your skin with desire, awakening your sex drive from slumber.

He hums and pulls away from your kiss, bringing his hands to remove your dress off you. Pushing it over your shoulders, it falls at your feet along with his gaze that scans your body, stripped to only your pair of panties now.

You shiver as his knuckles softly draw the curve of your breast, “so damn beautiful.”

He licks his lips, as one of his hands slide up to frame your chin, pressing your head carefully against the wall. His deep brown stare captures the gloss in your eyes, watching you gasp as his other hand slides under the elastic of your panties to massage your pussy.

“There’s my girl,” he purrs, collecting your arousal around his fingers.

You half-smile and trap your bottom lip under your teeth, holding for dear life to his neck, while he circles your clit with great skill.

His head bows to nip at your neck and capture your moans right from your throat when he presses a little harder.

His lips slide, descending from that point and down your body, stopping to kiss and lick your nipples before letting his tongue leave a wet trail to your navel. You can tell what his intentions are as he subtly gets down on one knee and pulls your underwear down.

Your breath catches as he glances at you with nothing but hunger for a beat before delving between your legs. He lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder, and blows some air on your slicked folds before tasting you.

You can't help but moan and grip at his hair as the wild swirl of his tongue touches every inch of your vulva before sucking your clit. It sends a shiver down your spine, and makes your back arch, pushing your center against his avid mouth.

His hands keep your jerking hips in place as he quickly drives you to ecstasy. The orgasm overcomes your body by surprise, and if he wasn't holding you, you'd totally fall on your face.

Julian gets to his feet without letting go of you. You link your arms around his neck, and he picks you up, bridal style, and carries you to bed.

As he lays your body down, you pull at the hem of his tee, and he takes it off. You extend your hands and undo his jeans before having Jules crawling on top of you. He pulls his bottom layers down, nestles between your legs, and you hug his torso as he tenderly brushes his plump lips over yours.

You're still very sensitive, but you tuck your hand in the small space between your body and his, grab his semi-hard length, and pump him leisurely until he’s fully grown. A pleasured hum falls from his lips as you guide him into your opening.

He catches you trembling as he slowly pushes into you.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Hmm, yeah,” you assure, palming the length of his back.

He pecks your lips, as you curl your legs around his hips. Then buries his face in the crook of your neck, fucking you ever so delicately, making you melt around him the longer he drags it out.

As much as you love having him inside you like this, in the middle of it you lose your focus and the pressing need for orgasm wanes out of the blue before even getting to that sweet edge.

He grunts and breathes against your skin, urging you to come with him, but you can't. You're too far away to bring yourself to orgasm again. Must be a first. It makes you anxious, cause he puts all his effort into it, and you can't even reciprocate when he spills inside you.

His breath steams the skin on your collar bones, and he stays there for a moment until he can speak again.

Clearing his throat, he props himself on one elbow, slips out of you, and reaches with his opposite hand to finish you off. He starts rubbing your folds, but you don’t let him finish.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, grabbing his hand and setting it aside

“You don’t want me to?” his brow creases. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Jules. I… can you just hold me?” you let out a tired sigh.

He nods, and you shift together, turning to the side, so he can spoon you.

“It felt really good at the beginning,” you reassure after a moment, smoothing your hand on his forearm.

“Yeah?”

“Hmm.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try again?” He insists, having his hand slipping down your body to grip at your thigh.

“No, it’s not gonna work.”

“Not gonna work? You’re hurting my ego, babe,” he quips, pressing his smile on your shoulder.

“You can tell your ego to go fuck himself,” you laugh softly, blindly finding his hand and lacing fingers with him.

“Listen, I think it’s time you and I get out of the house. Maybe just for a drive. What do you say? It’ll be good to clear our heads. Think about it.”

After long deliberation you decide that yes, it is time to leave the house, even if it's just for a little drive.

The next day, you step out of the apartment, filled with apprehension, for the first time in 15 days. It’s too hot during the day, so you wait for a milder temperature in the late afternoon, which is near to impossible. One of the things you miss about Portland, besides your friends, is the weather, and the smell of rain. Here, even the grass blades could burn your feet, especially in a summer blaze like this.

No matter what, he was right–  it's nice to be out and breathe the ocean breeze as he drives along the coastline.

Just like the movies, he has the hardtop of the convertible down, so you can feel the sun on your face, and the air blowing your hair. You relax on the passenger seat, having your heart calm the longer you’re out. It'll be nicer if you didn't have the undercover police car following you everywhere, but it's a small price for security.

Safety is an illusion, you realize. Here or at home, anything can happen anywhere, at any time. Being locked up has only given you more anxiety than you ever thought. At least out here, you’re not a sitting duck waiting for something to happen.

Your mind clears as you stop by the beach and watch the sunset peacefully going down before driving back home.

It’s the apartment that flips that internal switch in your head the second you’re inside and takes you to spiraling again. You anxiously sit at your desk and turn on your laptop to check your emails while Julian gets a beer from the fridge. Your phone is pretty much dead to you at this point. You rely only on the written word from your friends and the news. There’s a couple in your inbox from Sasha, the subject line screaming urgency in all caps. You open the first one, where she explains she’s been checking your Instagram and found a few photos you were tagged on at one of your first book signings in Los Angeles from a couple of months ago. There’s a few of you meeting people, reading, and signing some books. And she’s highlighted the ones where you can see the crowd at the back, and in a couple of them, she’s spotted a familiar face– your ex-boyfriend, who is currently MIA. On the second email, she dived further to all the signings you’ve done, and found some more from several cities where Logan followed along.

You’re unsure what her findings are making you feel… obviously, unsettled. Has he been stalking you all this time? You wonder. And if so, why did he wait all this time to try… whatever he had in mind? He was clearly in Boston and New York, where you went all alone. He could’ve easily taken the advantage of that, and he didn’t.

You show them to Julian and send them to Detective Sunday before calling Sasha.

Then you go through every memory you’ve collected of him. He was clearly disturbed, especially at the end of your relationship, but you’d have never pegged him as a killer. He couldn’t have, could he? Despite the way he treated you, you can’t bring yourself to believe this was him. But you’re not in the best mind set right now to form any rational assumptions. You haven’t seen in a long time either, so who knows what his game is.

It’s not the pictures Sasha finds that help crack the case, not at all. It only adds up to the pile of evidence Detective Sunday has come upon against Logan. Because the next day, while you’re taking a shower, Julian realizes that they’ve pulled the police detail off you without notice, almost 24 hours after you contacted Sunday. He runs downstairs and circles the block to see that none of the inconspicuous vehicles he's spotted for the last couple of weeks are anywhere in the vicinity.

“What’s wrong?”

You’ve just dressed yourself and come when you see him locking the bolt of the door and quickly grabbing the phone.

“The police are gone. I’m gonna…” he dials directly Sunday’s extension but doesn’t pick up on the first few tries.

You turn the TV on and flip from channel to channel until you land on the news to see they’ve apprehended their prime suspect, Todd Harrison, aka Logan, who has been using a false identity all this time. Someone saw him lurking around Martina’s yacht, and called in a tip. That’s all the media knows so far.

You don’t receive more insight until later, when Sunday finally calls and informs you that they're absolutely certain your ex was the one who tried to drown you and killed those women. They're still processing the amount of evidence collected from his place that included hundreds of videos and photos of all of you, the transfer tattoos, personal items of each of the victims…

The detective paints a pretty grim picture by the way she speaks. It looks like you were his main inspiration and was currently preparing himself for something bigger. He had your laptop hacked and wasn't shy on recording you using your own camera when you had the lid open.

None of this makes sense to you yet. It's hard to accept someone you dated was capable of something so heinous.

Chapter 5: Enmeshment

In the aftermath of Logan’s arrest, there’s no peace as you once knew it. You can’t find it in yourself yet. Him being in jail is supposed to make you feel better, but it doesn’t. Something is still off, and you can’t quite figure out what’s causing you to stumble into your every attempt of regaining some sense of normalcy because there isn't such a thing as normal, and that’s a fact. You’re still being watched and scrutinized, and the end of this is not coming as fast as you’d want to. The case continues unfolding, and the only coping mechanism to navigate all of that, is to put on a mask and pretend everything’s okay while you bury yourself in your work. Otherwise, you’d fall apart. It’s a lame coping mechanism, but it’s the only thing that keeps you afloat. It only lasts for so long. Soon, the mask starts to crack, and you find yourself acting up in ways you can’t even recognize.

You fill your wine glass a few more times than you’re used to for dinner. It helps you fall asleep faster, especially when Julian isn’t home. He goes back to his usual routine too, though he’s only working on weekends now. It makes you feel helpless having to have someone watching over you as if you were a fucking toddler. You pick up fights with him about nothing sometimes. It feels like the world to you in that very second, no matter how small it is. A minute later, you feel like the biggest asshole. It's very conflicting. At times, you can't leave his side, at others, you can't even touch him or look at him. You engage more often in sex, too, you've realized. On impulse. It has to be quick and rough. It's not like your libido has gotten stronger, it's that you'd kill to feel anything other than whatever is going on inside you.  

Any of this isn't right, you're barely aware of how wrongly you're losing control in very few moments of clarity. They pass just as fast as they come. You can't stop yourself. You've taken pride in always being put together, doing everything by the book, and following every rule that you were bound to break at some point. This is it. You're not processing everything that's been accumulating inside you and can't put it into words either. Not out of your mouth and not in your writing. It's like a void you can't escape.

Julian is not blind to it, he's been treating you with kid's gloves from the start, and he continues to do so. He indulges you, gives you space when you need, and it's always there to hold you afterwards. He also entertains any of your recently acquired bad habits without judgment. You truly don't deserve him. He casually mentions going to therapy a couple of times when you're calm. You've considered it… briefly. Your pride, ego, self-destruction, or whoever is in charge of you now keeps insisting that everything will pass on its own, that this is just temporary.

Your ex-boyfriend isn't speaking to the police. What they found in his possession speaks volumes for him, however. You had to go to the station to identify some items Logan had taken as trophies. You recognize your swimsuit, the one you were wearing that night and that you had Julian throw away.

You shouldn’t have, but you ask the detective to show some of the pictures he had taken of you. Most of them are just candid pictures in your daily life. Seeing through his vile eyes is absolutely terrifying and unnerving. The last one you see, though, that one takes the cake. You almost wanna throw up at the sight of yourself laying by the pool, soaking wet and lifeless. That’s the one he took that night. You’d tear it apart if you could, so nobody could look at it again. You gulp, turning it around and sliding it across the desk.

“Is he saying anything yet?” You ask.

Detective Sunday shakes her head, “word is he’s going to plead guilty.”

“Like he’s making a deal?”

She nods, “he’s got a good lawyer too.”

“Then, what am I doing here?”

“Procedure.” Sunday clears his throat, picking up the irritation in your voice, “listen, I hate this as much as you do, trust me. I’ve looked at these pictures more times than I can count. If it was up to me… he’d never see daylight again.”

Her words aren't very reassuring. You can't imagine what kind of deal he could be offered after what he's done, but no matter how many years he gets, it'll never be enough.

Your lack of judgment was truly poor when you met him. He was very sweet, you said. Nothing sweet about him anymore.

Julian is waiting for you in the parking lot when you get out. He has a cigarette between his lips, and you extend your hand, pick it up, and take a long puff.

“How did it go?”

You simply shrug, “he's making a deal or something.”

“That's batshit… they got him dead to rights. Why would the DA make a deal with him?”

“Beats me,” you blow out the smoke and pass the cigarette back to Julian, “he's got a good lawyer, apparently.”

You believe the absence of irrefutable physical evidence in the crime scenes is what might save the asshole. He really had this planned through and saw to leaving no trace. There's no digital evidence either, he's used his skills too to leave no mark, so anything in his possession is not comparable to what he could be charged with, had there been any of the mentioned.

They keep asking you if you remember seeing something that night. If only you had, this would be much different. So your testimony is pretty much worthless too.

As Julian sets the car in motion, it feels like someone else inhabiting your body when you reach with your fingers to curl around Jules' crotch while he drives out of the lot.

“Babe, you're playing a dangerous game there,” he gazes at you behind his aviators, then back at the road as you start pumping his length.

It's one of those impulses that shuts up all the unnecessary noise in your head. Keeps you distracted from going down on a spiral after what you've learned at the station.

“Let's go to Lorenzo's,” you propose. He's been wanting to take you to his friend's club for a while, and it has always intimidated you to go there. Not anymore.

“I thought you had to work.”

“It can wait.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“So? It is open, right?”

His head nods.

“C'mon, I wanna do something fun,” you insist as the car comes to a stop at a red light.

“We could go to the beach.”

“It's too hot,” hastily, remove your hand off him, “you know what? Forget it, let's go home.”

He sighs through his nose and thinks for a beat before grabbing your hand again and putting it back where it was.

“You wanna go to the club? Stop acting like a little brat and earn it,” he chooses to enable you.

You press your bare teeth on your bottom lip and fondle him softly. You don't want him to crash the car, either. You might be in the middle of a crisis, but you're not that far gone, so maybe there's still hope for you yet.

Enzo's club is not like any other club you’ve ever been. Let’s just say it doesn’t fit in the legal bounds of what constitutes a regular club. Part of it, at least. The bar side is legit. The gambling room at the back isn't however. And neither is the underground level, where he's created a safe space for casual sex, and prostitution. It operates closely to a kink club, where only vetted members can enter. Julian, being an old friend of his, has always had access to it. He's been wanting to get you here, partly cause he has been curious to see you in that ambience since the moment he met you and pegged you as a voyeur. There are a few rooms with one-way mirrors for people who like being watched and those who enjoy watching. He's always thought you might like that.

He's not wrong. You’ve been toying with the idea for months, and now you have nothing to lose. The worst thing that could’ve ever happened to you, it already happened. Maybe this is part of getting over all of it. Trying new things, and uncovering other parts of yourself you’ve kept mostly hidden.

You leave the car in a parking garage a block away from Enzo’s and walk the rest of the way.

Julian has an arm around your waist when you cross the door. There's not many people at this hour, so you're able to quickly get a drink at the bar for starters. The music has some people dancing on the dance floor. It's a very high-end space with a VIP section and a small stage.

You pick up your cocktail and since he refuses to dance with you, you stride alone towards the dance floor and have fun by yourself, swinging to the rhythm of a semi-upbeat song.

“Hey,” someone pats Julian on the shoulder while he watches you, and he turns his head to see hide friend Enzo, “never seen you here this early, Kaye.”

“It was her idea,” Jules points at you with the beer bottle in his hand.

“Is that your girl? The one from…”

“Yeah, that's her.”

“How's she doing?”

“She's really hurting right now,” he glances at you and sees you, trying to escape from all that pain by sipping your cocktail from a straw while you move, “she wanted to come here, do something different.”

“I bet. Are you staying long?”

“Yeah, for a while. I'm taking her downstairs.”

“That's good,” his friend nods, “you two have fun, yeah? I have a lot of work to do here today. It's nice seeing you.”

“You too.”

Afterwards, Julian finishes his beer and joins you, curling his arms around your waist from behind. .

“You ready?” he whispers in your ear.

“Hm-hm.”

Then, he guides you to a little hallway at the back, guarded by a security guy. Julian shows him some sort of pass, and he leads you into a room that looks like a coat check.

A woman behind a desk greets you and places a plastic box on the surface for you to leave your phones or any other recording devices. She recites a set of rules that boil down to no recording or photographing. No drugs or smoking allowed. No harassment and no interference with other people's activities. And several important rules about safety, consent, and protection.

You both place your cellphones in the box and check your pockets. You left your bag in the car, so you only have a small wallet that you keep with you.

She hands you a key after locking your phones in a square locker, and Jules tucks it in his wallet.

The receptionist presses a button and a door buzzes on the side. You go through it; it buzzes again as it closes behind you. You climb down the set of stairs to a small reception area with more security and a display of toys for purchase on the side.

You head straight to another door and Julian gazes at you before opening, “are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Hm-huh.”

He grins at you and opens the door to a much bigger space than you expected. You hadn't really pictured it in any way, but by the secrecy of it, one would think it'd be something more dungeon-like. It’s not like that at all. There's a plethora of things that shouldn’t go together, but somehow they do. It's all cream colors and red, neon lighting, with velvet curtains and leather couches in alcoves. There's a bar area and two separate hallways that lead to bedrooms behind those big curtains.

Mellow music playing in the background and a few people just hanging out in the bar. A group is casually conversing in one of the alcoves. Another one is occupied by a couple intimately touching the other. But your eyes are drawn to the man kneeling by an ottoman sucking a woman's toes in a different nook.

“Do you want another drink, sweetheart?”

“Uh… sure.”

You order another cocktail and take Julian's hand. He guides you through one of the curtains to show you one of the main attractions. It leads to a much darker hallway, full of windows on either side. Most of them are covered. There are a few people watching through the ones uncovered, where you can observe people having sex. The first one you pass by, there's a woman lying on her front with a mask on and four people brushing her body with feathers. On the second one, you see a man shoving his cock into his kneeled partner's mouth. The third one holds a picture of a woman with strap-on pegging a man. A fourth window holds a man walking slowly around a bed, observing the form of his partner, tied up to the bed. You stop at the fifth one, where a man is giving the pound of his life to a woman. He has her on all fours, punishing her ass with his hips, occasionally slapping her flesh with his palm, and yanking her hair. There's nothing special about it. It's just rough sex, and yet it evokes that something in you. Even though you can't hear anything that goes in there, they seem to be having fun by the way their faces contort.

“You like that, sweetheart?” One of Julian's arms circles your waist from behind while you sip your drink.

“Hmm.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I dunno… I guess they both seem detached from the other, like… she's acting for him, and he only cares about his own pleasure but not really wanting to connect on a deeper level. It feels… liberating.”

“Yeah?”

“I'm not sure that I've ever done that. You know, I can't fully commit to sex if I'm not cared for, and vice versa.”

“I know what you like, baby.”

“I wish I could do that sometimes… just not to care, you know?”

“But I love that you do so much, and that you have such a big, beautiful heart.”

“Well, it's broken right now,” you sigh, “I'm sorry, I'm such a downer right now. I just…”

“You wanna feel something different. I get it. Don't apologize to me. I got you, okay?”

“Okay,” you glance over your shoulder, smiling at him.

Watching other people having sex it’s entertaining, but not as much as you wanted it to be. Maybe in a different headspace, you'd be able to enjoy a little more being witness to those snaps of intimacy right in front of you.

Afterwards, you go back to the main space and take a seat on one of the alcoves.

“Who pays for all this?” you wonder, settling glued to Julian's side, draping your legs over his thigh.

“It relies on member fees and donations.”

“Hmm. But you don't come here often?”

“Yeah, I don't get as much here for a night as I do out there, but I still pay a fee. It helps keep it running. Make it safe and all for other people.”

“How much would you get here?”

“I don't know. Three or four hundred? Depends on the day.”

“And that's not enough for you, Mr. Greedy?” you utter playfully, “you rather take the risk out in the open?”

“Makes it more interesting,” he palms your denim covered thigh.

“Well, how about we make this more interesting,” you drink from your glass, settle it down on the table and tuck your hand in his pants' pocket to collect his wallet.

Julian stares at you, intrigued about what you’re concocting, as you take out a hundred dollar bill from it before giving his wallet back.

“Let’s say, for a hundred bucks you can do whatever you want with me,” you gesture with the bill in your hand, “what would you do with me?”

“You want me to pay to have sex with you?” he snorts.

“Would you?”

His head tilts to the side, considering, “I would… but a hundred bucks? You’re selling yourself cheap, sweetheart. I’d pay thousands to be with you.”

“What if I wanna be a cheap whore?” You fold the bill in your hand, slide under the hem of your v-neck blouse, and tuck it in one of the cups of your bra.

He clicks his tongue and sends one hand to hold your face, brushing his thumb ever so slightly on your bottom lip.

“Why do you wanna be a cheap whore?”

“Cause…” you exhale and pause for a beat, “I don’t wanna be me right now.”

“You can be whatever you wanna be, baby,” he sighs, pulling down your lip a couple of times, picking up on what you’re inquiring of him, “you want me to use you? Is that what you're asking?”

You nod.

“Yeah?” He brings your face closer, so you feel his warm breath on your lips, “want me to treat you like a little slut?”

Your cheeks heat up hearing him saying that, and you simply hum.

“You don’t mind people watching?”

You shake your head in his warm palm, spread across your chin now.

He quickly licks his lips and then swipes that same tongue on yours before ordering, “then get on your knees and earn that money.”

You swallow and slide between his thighs to kneel on the floor as he opens his fly and belt. You lean your head and kiss his bulge over his underwear.

You’re taken again by that urge of escaping from your entire being that you don’t give a fuck where you are or if there’s people around watching or not as you go down on him. You get lost in pleasing him, you exist only for that right now. And it’s easier to slip into that mindset than you’d ever thought.

You peel back his boxers, and watch him go hard in your fist as his fingers toy with your hair. Immersed in your role, you pump his length with ease, occasionally gazing at him. He bites his lip as you open your mouth to get a taste of his pre-cum with just the tip of your tongue. You swirl around his head, and trace his slit before wrapping your lips around the stately flared cock. Filling your mouth with hit, you bob your head, spreading your spit along his velvet skin. Julian hums and pushes your head down for you to go faster. It’s what you asked for anyway.

You rub your thighs together, feeling the arousal pooling between your folds as he mutters and praises what a good slut you are.

His cock twitches between your teeth, and he buries a grunt deep in his throat as he feeds you his warm load.

You suck him dry, swallowing every drop of him as if it was sweet honey. Pulling your head back, you lick the remains that stick to your lips under the sultry shadow of his stare.

While he catches his breath, he brings his hand closer and inserts two fingers in your mouth, slipping them in and out, as if he was still fucking your lips.

“You're something special, sweetheart.”

Playing your part, you hum pleasantly around the motion of his fingers, shamelessly blowing them off until he pulls them out, letting your spit dribble down your chin.

“Did I taste good?”

“Hmm,” grinning, you reach for the napkin near your cocktail to clean your mouth, as he tucks himself back into his pants,

You get on your feet, and he pulls down onto his lap, sideways, letting his hands roam your body, and his lips nibble your partly-exposed chest while you hug his neck.

You tilt your head back as he covers more ground, noting his hand sneaking under your blouse at the back. His fingers press and glide with electricity all over the plane of your skin, as his opposite hand grips viciously at your ass.

The scent of your skin intoxicates him, making him groan at the top of your breasts.

“Can we get a room?” you pant.

“Yeah, we can get whatever you want, baby.”

He pulls his head back and holds your face momentarily as he kisses your lips. Then, you both shift and stand up to get a key from the bartender.

You hit the ladies' room first while Julian settles himself in the bedroom. He moods the LED lights to a soft purple and lets the curtains cover the mirror, cause he’s not sure if you wanna be watched or not. He also makes sure that everything is cleaned and that they’re stocked with the complementary condoms, lube, and wipes in the nightstand. Everything’s perfect as he waits for you.

After ten minutes, he starts to worry that you’ve suddenly gotten sick, or have changed your mind when you don’t show up. He lets another two or three minutes pass by and then peeks out the hallway to see if you’re close. You’re not. He strides promptly back to the main space, and heads straight to the restroom. He calls your name, knocking on every stall’s door, asking if you’re okay, but there are no signs of you in there.

A woman coming out of one of the stalls gives him a look, and he apologizes. He’s about to get out when he glances at the floor and sees the half-moon necklace you were wearing. With a deep crease in his brow, he picks it up and swallows. Something it’s wrong here, he realizes all of a sudden. He inspects the bathroom further and sees a small trail of blood on the side of one of the sinks.

You’re dead. It’s what first crosses his mind. He’s let his guard down, and he’s killed you.

Julian rushes out of the bathroom and starts asking about you to everyone in his way. The bartender plainly tells him you just left, but he doesn’t buy it.

He makes another swipe around the lower level before heading up. A woman stops him and tells him that she saw you passed out, being carried by one of the security guys, and that you had blood trickling down your temple.

Rushing up the stairs, he collects his cellphone and yours and steps once more into the club. His eyes frantically search for you all around, but you’re still missing. Then, he notices security keeping an eye on him, and there’s no doubt in his bones that there’s been foul play in your disappearance. Someone has taken you. He’s sure.

Julian makes a quick decision and dashes straight to the employee's closed area, and enters Enzo’s office, locking the door behind him before anyone can get to him.

“What did you do with her?” he questions his friend, and quickly eyes a flashy gun with a gold finish on top of a filing cabinet.

“What are you talking about?”

“You knew exactly who she was when you looked at her… Nothing happens here without you knowing it. Who did you call?”

“She’s been all over the news. Everyone knows who she is.”

“Bullshit.”

Suddenly, there’s a relentless banging and pushing on the door behind him.

“Tell them to stop.”

Enzo pulls his palm up calmly and raises his voice to tell his men to stand back.

“Look. The best thing for you to do know it’s to get a drink, calm yourself, and go home, Julian.”

There’s a pounding in his chest that urges him to grab Enzo’s arm, twist it to his back, and push his front flush against the wall.

“What the fuck did you do?” Julian mutters, having Enzo pinned with all his force.

“I had no choice,” Enzo struggles to speak, “I owed a lotta money.”

Julian keeps him secure with his dominant hand, and reaches with the other to pick up the gun he saw before, cocks it and puts it against Enzo’s nape

“You fucking sold her?”

“I didn’t… someone was already after her.”

“Yeah, he’s in jail.”

“No,” Enzo tries to shake his head, “that wasn’t him. Logan was set up, just like you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s already gone… she's untouchable now.”

“Give me a fucking name!”

“You know his name.”

Julian sighs and lowers the gun, uttering, “Stratton.”

“He was after you,” Enzo explains, “and got obsessed with her.”

“Where is he taking her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he presses the muzzle of the gun again against his temple now, “I thought we were friends. Where is he taking her?”

“I swear, I don’t know!”

“Then, you’re no use to me, are you?”

“Wait, Julian… I can call him and find out.”

He gives the desk a once-over and locates Enzo’s phone. Without lowering his aim, he lets him move freely to get to it and make the call.

“Put it on speaker.”

Enzo clears his throat and dials Richard Stratton.

Julian can barely keep his thoughts straight for more than a second as the dial tone goes off three times before Stratton answers.

“What do you need now?” the man on the other side asks curtly.

“I uh… I just need to know that we’re squared now.”

 “We are. You delivered. Your debt is gone, Lorenzo.”

“You’re not gonna hurt her, are you?”

 “I promised I wouldn’t. She’s safer with me than with that degenerate, trust me.”

“Where are you taking her?”

“That’s none of your business.” There’s a pause before Richard speaks again, “is he there with you?”

“Who?”

“Julian. He’s there, isn’t he?” Another moment of silence as Julian's rage levels go off the roof when hearing Richard talking to you, “you wanna say goodbye, sweetheart?”

“Jules,” he hears your shaky voice come out of the speaker, and he lowers his gun, “are you there?”

“I’m here, baby, I’m here. Where are you?”

“I don’t know, I can’t… they hit me,” he can identify the fear in your voice as you speak and half sob, “we’re moving, but I don’t know… I’m scared.”

“Shh, shh, I’m gonna come for you, okay?” Julian’s own throat betrays him, as he tears up, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

 “Promise.”

“I promise, baby. I’ll find you.”

“Time’s up,” Richard utters, and he hears you yelling his name in the background before the call is cut off.

“So help me God, Enzo, something happens to her, I’ll come here, and I’ll kill you myself. Tell your men to back off.”

“Logan,” Enzo utters in a last attempt to make him feel better.

“What about him?”

“If someone knows where Stratton is going, it’s Logan. He’s been covering all his tracks. Knows more about him than he realizes.”

Running against the clock, Julian takes Enzo’s gun and sets a lead foot in the pedal, driving straight into the big house. His thoughts go as fast as the car. He calls Detective Sunday on the way and tells her what happened, and to meet him there. He knows he can’t do this alone, as much as he wants to, he’s going to need her help.

Chapter 6: Clipped Wings

“Where are we going?” You keep asking in the back of a very luxurious vehicle.

Next to you is Richard Stratton. On the front seats, behind an opaque glass, are the driver; and the guy that you tried to fight off in the bathroom and hit you in the head with the butt stock of his gun, so you would stop struggling. You saw them briefly, when you woke up about an hour ago, you believe. Stratton closed the glass partition after that, and the car hasn’t stopped since.

You finally managed to stop crying after talking to Julian. Your wrists are restrained with a zip tie over your lap, and your head is still hammering from the blow. The door windows are completely blocked, too, so you can’t see where you are or where they’re taking you.

“If you're going to kill me, at least tell me why.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I'm not going to kill you. I'm saving you from him.”

It's utterly appalling the way he uses that pet name.

“You call this saving?” you show your join hands up in exasperation.

“That's for your own protection. Once you see what I've done for you, you won't need that.”

“You're crazy.”

He slides his hand over your thigh, and you flinch at his touch.

“Don't touch me.”

He laughs at you and squeezes your knee before removing his hand.

“Don't worry. After a period of adjustment, you'll beg me to touch you.”

“I'd rather die.”

“You already did. Four times.”

It takes you a moment to process, but by your count there are five women dead, not four.

“You killed all those women? Why?”

“They were imposters. See, they looked like you, but they didn’t feel like you or smell like you, or talk like you.”

“Why?” you keep repeating, having tears threatening to pour out of your eyes.

“Because I love you, don't you get it? I only want you. I was trying to ruin Julian's life, but when I met you… being with you was the only thing that mattered all of a sudden. I guess taking you away from him is sort of a tragedy for him. Two birds, one stone.”

“You don't know me.”

“Oh, I do. I've been watching you and learning everything that is to know about you to build the perfect place for you.”

He's truly out of his mind.

“Why did you want to ruin Julian's life?”

“If you must know… a few months ago, I found this letter that Michelle wrote to him but never sent. I guess it was too much to explain over paper… she was telling Julian that our son, my son Colin… was never mine, that was the offspring of that fucking bastard all along.”

“And you killed Michelle for that too,” you mutter, slowly processing this new shocking information.

“She had it coming. She's just a whore like him.”

“You weren't married anymore.”

“She was trying to take away my son. I gave that boy everything for 14 years, and one day she decides I'm a bad influence?”

The shoe seems to fit. Of course, you don't say that out loud. You swallow the dryness of your throat and try not to break into tears. You know you'll meet a similar fate, no matter what he says.

“What about Logan? Why did you bring him into this?”

“Hmm, you're such a curious cat, but I'll bite. Logan hurt you and had to pay for it. You know, actually, he's the one who tried to drown you. He thought that you'd be safer if the world was watching you… he never intended to kill you. He did kill Martina to get back at me. Tried to stage it to pin it on me, when we both knew he'd be taking the blame for all of it. Thing is he did me a favor, she was insufferable. It blew my cover, but I'll find another one.”

“Oh, it must really suck to be you.” You spit out ironically before you can stop yourself, “psychologists are going to have their field day when they catch you.”

You must have hit a nerve there, cause your head suddenly jerks to the side, having the backside of his hand striking across your face terribly hard.

“The others weren't this insolent either.” he mutters, “I was going to wait for you to settle in our new home to do this, but I guess this is a good time to start.”

You glance at him and see him produce a small case from a compartment that holds some vials and syringes. He takes out one of the syringes from its wrapper and loads it with one of the injectables.

“What the hell is that? Is it what you gave them?”

“Oh, no. I had this made especially for you.”

You try to squirm out of his reach, but he locks an arm around you, pulls at your hair to have your head tilted to the side, and shoves the needle in the crook of your neck. It goes stiff as you feel the strange liquid invade your body. You wince and tears slip out of your eyes.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” he removes the needle and pets your head, “It’s going to feel good really soon, sweetheart.”

“What is it?” You let out a sob.

“Attitude adjustment. It’s a drug we’ve developed to help you be more… compliant.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath.”

Your head falls back against the headrest, hearing his evil laugh mocking you. Closing your eyes and clenching your teeth, you focus on fighting the pain of the oddly, cold sensation under your skin, and try not to panic. It’s going to be fine. He promised he was right behind you. Any minute now, you think. Any minute…

Whatever he drugged you with, it works fast. Soon, your jaw goes slack, and so does your body. Your pulse speeds up, and it goes faster the more you try to move. There’s an overwhelming sensation building up in your chest as your anxiety levels skyrocket. You’ve never done any hard drugs or have ever been medicated with something stronger than Vicodin from when you got your wisdom teeth out, but this one has a huge kick.

“Relax. It’ll feel worse if you try to fight it,” you hear him say and notice that he’s touching your head again, cleaning the blood from your wound, “I’m sorry he did that. I told him not to hurt you, but you were a little feisty.”

“Go to hell,” you barely exhale.

You close your eyes again and wait and hope and pray for this to be over.

Then, something creeps out from inside you when you feel his lips touching your neck, as he sniffs the scent of your skin. You wanna move, hit him, kick him, anything… but your body isn't responding to the signals your brain is sending.

“You smell like him,” he utters, as one of his hands slips under your shirt to grope your breast over your bra, “we're going to fix that later.”

“Please, don't,” you babble, bursting into tears.

“Relax, baby. It’s going to feel really good.”

He grabs at you harder, and sucks disgustingly at your neck. You yelp between sobs pleading for him to stop, over and over. You try to move your arms, but they're not strong enough at the moment to get him off you.

His grip hurts so much that it awakens just the ounce of strength you need, strong enough for you to send your hands to dig your nails into his neck and draw blood, forcing him to stop.

“I see you like it rough, huh?” he slaps you again, “you should've said that b-”

Someone must have heard you pray, cause on a dime something explodes, making the car jerk violently before it stops, shoving Richard against the glass partition.

It sounded like the front tires.

You had a seat belt on and all you felt was the whiplash. Stratton however didn't, and ended up with his head smashed against the glass mid-sentence. He still looks alive, but he's completely out, curled in an awkward position between his seat and the partition.

You fumble trying to unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car for a long moment until someone tries to open the door on your side. It’s locked. You freeze and don’t say anything at all, wondering if someone is trying to help you, or if it's just one of Stratton’s men.

Then, a gunshot goes off, and you duck your head. There are a couple more afterwards, spaced out, and you hear a man shouting to stay down. It must be the police.

You try to unlatch the seat belt again. With your wrists restrained, and your senses impaired by the drug, it’s almost a victory when you do.

Feeling helpless afterwards, you tuck your arms to your chest and freeze, drowning in your own tears, waiting for someone to come to your aid.

It feels like hours, but it’s only a minute after that you hear sirens going off and someone successfully opening your door.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

You shake your head, unable to look at this new person.

“Are you hurt?”

There’s nothing you can compare this moment to. This is the most pain you’ve ever felt. Inside and out. You can’t respond. There’s something blocking you from doing so, must be the drug or the shock. Your mind feels warped and dizzy in a way you can’t really explain. All thoughts are seeping in your mind like water through a colander.

“Can you move?”

Can you? You’re not sure. You swallow and hold your trembling hands forwards, so this person can see that they’re bound. You can’t really tell if it’s a man or a woman speaking to you, but you’re aware enough to see that it's someone in a uniform.

You feel a couple of people maneuvering around you with great care. There is a click, and finally you can pull your hands apart from the other.

Someone offers you a hand, and you hesitantly take it and test if you can step out of the car. It's a learning experience. Your legs quiver on you as you stand up to feel the striking heat of the sun in the middle of nowhere.

You let them guide you to take cover in one of the two patrol cars while the other officers take care of the men that held you hostage.

They bring you water and keep asking you questions you can't really answer.

With a lost stare, you watch the scene as they remove the device they set on the road to stop the car. Julian must have called the cops, it dawns on you out of nowhere, otherwise, you'd still be in that car. That thought quickly dissipates when Stratton wakes up as they pull him out of the car and is handcuffed immediately. He yells all sorts of threats at the officers, and he’s quickly locked in the second cruiser.

Ambulances show up next. They care for the two men shot, and your captor. A paramedic mends the gash on your temple and notices there's a bump on the curve of your neck like a bee sting. It itches the same, but you know it was from the needle.

Then, you are set aside like a science project, waiting for CSI to roll by and collect the evidence from your fingernails and take pictures of you.

“She's in shock.” You hear them say. You must be cause you're completely unable to respond to anything the more time passes. It feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you were watching someone else's life.

You can't seem to snap out of it. It's numbing and utterly disturbing. You try remembering what you did earlier in the day to dig yourself out of that hole… You were mad when you woke up. You had to go to the station, and you weren't really up for it. Julian, being annoyingly sweet, drew a heart on your palm to make you smile. You rolled your eyes instead. It was one of those moments you were mean to him for no reason. You should have stayed at home, kissed him, and told him that you love him. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if you had.

There’s your anchor. You focus on Julian and the way he traced a piece of his heart on your palm, while someone brushes the gunk in your nails. You open your opposite hand and pretend that the comic-shape heart is still there, carved over the lines of your palm.

“Baby, can you hear me?” he's choked up, you can tell by the way his voice breaks.

He's there now, and you can’t tilt your head up to look at him. Your gaze states fixated on that imaginary spot until you see his fingers move ever so carefully to wrap around your hand as he crouches in front of you.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sweetheart,” he bows his head and kisses your knuckles, “we’re going to get you out of here now, yeah?”

Time fluctuates and in that daze from when you were injected to the moment you wake up in a hospital bed for a second time, and there are several pieces missing. It’s night now, you can see through the window having its shutters pulled up, and Julian is seated on a sofa, reading a copy of your book, with a deep crease of concentration in his brow.

After that trip you feel utterly lucid now, sleepy but lucid, thankfully.

He doesn’t realize you’re awake until you mumble a husky, “hey, do they sell those at the hospital now?”

His stare is torn from the pages and looks at you, having his expression soften as he rises from the two-seater, placing the book down open on the page he was reading.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he sits next to you, and tentatively reaches to caress your face, “someone left it in the waiting room.”

“Where are we?”

“I got you a private room.”

“Fancy,” you feel your lips pull up on their own.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, trying not to think too much about what happened, “better, I think. How long was I out?”

“Sleeping? Just a couple of hours… before that? Three or four without… Do you remember anything?”

“Some of it. He… he gave me something,” you point at your neck with your hand.

“Yeah, they found his stash in the car… Said it was PCP mixed with something else. They’re still trying to figure it out,” he glances at your neck, “the swelling is gone now. I should go get some-”

“No,” you stop him, “not yet. In a minute.”

You ask him to fill the gaps you have. And he tells you how they found where Richard was taking you by doing something impossible. Between him and Detective Sunday, they convinced Logan to give up the location. Apparently, Stratton was blackmailing him and threatening to kill his family. In exchange for their safety, he followed you for months, kept tabs on you and sent all that to Stratton. Logan was just a pawn. He tried to get out of it and keep you safe at the same time by making it look like someone tried to kill you, he never intended to actually do it; like Stratton told you in the car.  That last part you knew, but it seemed like a vague memory of a dream until Julian confirms it. Logan kept quiet and let Stratton pin the murders on him, cause there was still a gun pointed at his family.

In trade for that information, he had Sunday reassure him that she’d see that his girlfriend and baby would be protected.

Afterwards, you try to fill some of those too for Julian. You remember questioning Richard, but  there are some facts you’re completely unsure if they’re real or not. If your memory serves you right, he killed Michelle after finding out their son was actually Julian’s. He confessed to killing the other women too, except for Martina. He said Logan killed her. The situation was less than ideal to gather information like that, but you’re almost 90% sure that’s what you heard before being drugged.

“You have a son,” you say under your breath, and he looks at you as if you were making it up, “I’m not sure if it’s true, Jules, but it adds up.”

Shutting your eyes, you attempt to pry the name he gave you out of your mind. It starts with a C. Maybe Cole or Charlie. It sounded close to that.

“That’s impossible,” his brow narrows as he stands up to look out the window, “she’d have told me.”

Would she? You remember something about a letter that wasn’t sent. Maybe she did, but didn’t have the courage to send it while he was in prison. It’d probably broken his heart. Just as it’s doing now.

He can’t accept it, but part of you knows it’s true.

Chapter 7: Epilogue

They say time heals all wounds… Abigail’s were temporarily patched at best because the moment she stepped into that house, she felt the demons buried in that place prying at every opening of her being. Time stood still between those walls. The same furniture her mother kept spotless was occupying the same space to the millimeter. Except for pictures. There were no pictures of her in the house anymore. There used to be two on the wall leading up the staircase that were replaced by some of her cousins. The Angels. On the mantel was another one when she got her portrait taken at the back of the dollar store when she was 7 or 8. It had one of those fake sky backgrounds. She was wearing the dress she wore for church only, and wasn’t allowed to smile.

Days before she had that taken, Adventurous Abby had fallen on her face while she was roller-skating, and one of her front teeth was chipped after hitting the edge of the sidewalk. It made her feel ugly that her own mother told her to keep her mouth shut cause she looked like a fucking pirate. Sans the curse word, of course. Her palm covered her mouth more often than not when she spoke until she got that fixed years later. She did. Not her mother. And definitely not her father chipped in for her chipped tooth. They say it was a punishment of God for being cheeky. That was their logic. In all truth, those skates she rode belonged to her best friend, who wanted to show her to see how fun it was. Abby never had any of the fun toys. Only a couple of stuffed animals on her bed and a creepy porcelain doll that she couldn’t care less about. She hated her– Christine. That’s what her mother called her doll. She sat on a shelf looking over her bed with her perfect, glossy hair and skin, and beautiful dress, mocking her while she slept. She was convinced it gave her nightma---

“You gotta eat something, sweetheart,” Julian interrupts your flow, holding a plate with food close to your face, while you're typing on your laptop your second novel, “you’ve been at it for hours.”

“So? Can’t you see that I’m on a roll here?” You protest animatedly.

“I can see,” he scoffs, glancing at the screen, “but I can also hear your stomach growling from across the room.”

“That’s not my stomach, that’s the lil guy snoring,” you slide your chair back to show him that the puppy has fallen asleep by your feet, under the desk.

It’s three months later when everything starts to go back to some sort of normal. A new normal. Not better or worse, just different.

The tremor you've had in your hands since the day you were kidnapped finally stops altogether. You’re counting the days it lasts, six so far, and your pulse is as steady as ever. They believed it was psychosomatic, cause physically you’re perfectly fine. Therapy helped. Having a weekly session didn’t seem much at the beginning, but it truly has been a game changer.

Right now, your steady hands are full with your new puppy, working on your second novel, and helping Julian with his situation.

Inspiration struck you a few weeks ago, and you’ve outlined and drafted fully a new story that you feel pretty confident about. You finally got an agent, a trustworthy one, and two publishing houses are interested in your new novel after reading the early draft of your manuscript. Not having to worry about financing another book of your own pocket takes a load off your mind. You’ve broken even, and you’re just starting to see the fruits of years of work.

But the thing that has brought the most joy to your life is your new puppy– Flynn. You decided to adopt one of those doggies from Bailey, and now you have a black and white Siberian Husky with crystal clear, blue eyes. He's cute as a button; joyful, and active as they come. You’ve had him for a month and besides Julian, you’ve never loved anything as much as you love that dog. Caring for him, taking him out and getting into training classes with him is part of your new routine that’s keeping you uplifted. For a while, you thought you’d never leave the house again and now, with a few exceptions, you’re able to go out on your own with him. He follows everywhere you go and tonight, after eating his food, he started licking your ankle and fell asleep on the floor while you wrote. That’s how much time you've been spending writing, you've bored the little thing to death.

Julian on the other hand has been preoccupied with another matter. It took him a while to accept that he had a son. With the help of Sunday, you found out that Colin Stratton was living in England under the care of his grandmother and guardian, Evelyn.

There was no trace of him online, despite him being 15. The only photo you could find was one in Michelle’s Instagram account from when Colin was around 10. You could see a certain likeness to Julian, but it was very inconclusive. He didn’t look like Richard, for sure. He took after his mother, definitely.

It wasn’t a decision that was made lightly, no. The last thing Julian wanted to do was to disrupt a young boy's life. He merely lost his mom months ago, and the man he knew as his father just went to prison.

After long conversations and consideration, Julian decided that he wanted to meet him and go from there. Ideally, he wanted to be in his life at any capacity the boy considered. If it was none at all, he’d have to accept it. He was ready for it. He’d stepped up, had he known, back then; and was determined to do it now. There was nothing he could’ve done from prison, but he deserved to know the truth. If there’s something he could resent Michelle for, it was that, but he understood her reasons. He got a copy of the alleged letter that was in Stratton’s possession that was meant for him all along.

Via lawyer, Julian made his intentions clear to Evelyn Stratton, and added that letter. She didn’t reply right away. The request was simple enough, he just wanted to meet Colin. The lawyer called a couple of times, and she kept dismissing him.

There was another force at work, cause one evening, a week ago, when you two came back home from a walk with Flynn, you found the 15-year-old-boy waiting in the lobby. Up close, it was clear that Colin had grown to look more like Julian. Except for his eyes that were hazel, like Michelle’s, his features were a fresh-printed copy out of Julian’s. His hair was just as dark and abundant, and when you saw them walk side by side, you could see that they both carried themselves the same way. Julian didn’t believe you, of course, but you could tell.

Colin had a proposition of his own, he had been wanting to leave the boarding school he’s been enrolled in since he was 12. He loathed it and wanted to come here with Michelle, but Richard never allowed him to do so. Even now, his guardian was carrying Richard’s plan of not letting come here. He took the opportunity of visiting his aunt, Michelle’ sister, in Burbank during holidays, and found out where Julian lived. He knew about him, his mother told him about his real father a couple of years ago. Colin just needed a paternity test and the chance of fighting Evelyn and Richard for custody, so he could emancipate and live with his aunt.

It wasn’t an instant connection or anything. The boy was very stern in his intentions and was very skittish about meeting Julian, but he did, cause he had been looking to get away from that family that never truly treated him or his mom right. She always feared he’d hurt them if they tried to get away, and she was right. Now that Richard was locked up, this was his chance.

Julian agreed. His mind was already made before the boy came here that he’d help in any capacity he could.

“Did you love her?” Colin asked. It seemed very important to him to know that about him.

Julian stared at him for a long moment before standing up and picking up a book from the shelf. He sat back down and opened the front of it to collect a picture strip of him with Michelle. He just showed it to him.

“She looks really happy,” Colin kept his eyes on the pictures of her mother framed by love and joy in her eyes.

“She was,” Julian simply said.

Close to midnight, you save your document, leaving Abigail to rest for the night. Then, turn off your computer, put Flynn in his crate, and check that the door is closed before getting on with your nightly routine and joining Julian in bed.

“Thought you weren’t coming to bed,” Jules grins, placing the book he was reading down on the nightstand, while you slide into bed.

“Hmm, have you missed me, handsome?” you lean closer, and he links his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

“Always,” he hushes, having his thumb back and forth rubbing your shoulder.

“Yeah?” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him, letting your palm smooth his chest up to his neck, “sorry I’ve been absent the last couple of nights.”

“Don’t be. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m really proud of you too, baby,” you say back, touched, and lean closer to capture his lips.

Kissing him slowly, your fingers slip into his hair that it’s gotten longer, and you play with his curls at the back of his nape.

Julian gingerly shifts your body, removing your clothes in the process, so he can make love to you with all of him– lips, tongue, fingers, and cock, all work together to stroke every inch of your body. He claims all of you, including your heart and soul, during those delightful orgasms he gives you in return. His body buzzes, collecting the pleasure that vibrates out of you every time you moan and scream at his name.

He makes you feel vivid and precious, more than you ever imagined, with every caress and word.

“Look at me, sweetheart” he says, locking eyes with you, holding your face, getting you closer to the edge a third time. Your lips part against his, and you can barely mumble a felt I love you as you melt all around him.

#expensive delights #julian kaye x reader #american gigolo #julian kaye #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #fanfiction #darlingwrites #this post is excessively long #let me know if you prefer separate posts for each chapter

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

This is my submission to the Quote me on This Challenge that I'm hosting. It's my first time posting a fic in a VERY long time so please excuse any errors.

I want to send special thanks to @fullbeaumonty / @chatonne-rousse , @leelee10898 , and @zaffrenotes for pre-reading this! And to @sfb123 for assigning my prompt, which will be bolted below.

Disclaimer: there are smatters of actual book dialogue that own to pixelberry, along with Drake Walker.

As always if you'd like to be added or removed from my tags, please let me know!

My taglist: Tags: @leelee10898 @fullbeaumonty @choiceswreckedme @ritachacha @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @blackcoffee85 @indiacater @drakesensworld @carabeth @daniv2278 @cosigottahavefaith @gibbles82 @innerpostmentality @perfectprofessorherokid @darley1101 @jovialyouthmusic @liamxs-world @thequeenofcronuts @blznbaby @wannabemc2 @aworldoffandoms @lynne1993

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The night had been close to magical. The time spent with all of her friends at the beer garden had been exactly what Josie needed after everything she'd been through these past few weeks. She almost couldn't believe she wasn't dreaming, but there she was ambling back to the palace, her steps falling close to Drake's as he hummed happily. He stumbled only a little.

"Drake, are you drunk?" She giggled.

"Novak, I don't get drunk. Maybe you're drunk."

"Uh huh,"

"I'm just… happy. We're home. Savannah's coming home…..you like me for some reason…"

"Okay you've definitely had more to drink than I thought." Josie laughed, linking her arm with Drake's. He paused just before the door and they watched their friends disappear inside. He turned to her.

"Hey, how about a palace tour tonight? Just you, me, and portraits of stuffy old guys."

"We're all staying in the palace, Drake. I've seen it."

"Nah, Novak. You've seen the palace the way the royal family wants you to see it." He dropped his voice to a slightly slurred whisper, "I can show you the palace… like you've never seen it before."

There was a glimmer in his eye that Josie had never seen before and she wasn't ready to see it go away.

"I'm in. Where does this tour start?"

Drake proudly showed Josie special spots in both the ballroom and one of the many hallways. His gleeful demeanor was maybe the most adorable thing she had ever seen and she was hopeful that although he stood before her now looking very confused that he would have more stops on his little tour. Finally his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he looked at her, more enthusiasm oozing from him.

"Let me take you to our final stop,"

He grabbed her hand and dragged her along an unknown route to a part of the palace she'd never seen before. Stopping in front of a heavy wooden door he looked at her over his shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows before pushing it open to reveal an empty library.

"Did you bring me here to read to me?" She asked, taking in the splendor of the room.

He didn't answer. Instead he released her hand and started feeling along the spines of old books on one of the shelves, muttering to himself. His shoulder bounced off of a pillar as something began to rumble. A panel in the wall swung open and he grinned back at her proudly.

"I found it! C'mon Novak!" He dragged her through the panel whirling around to grin at her triumphantly.

"Welcome…. To my secret passage."

Josie looked around the stone passageway. It was cold and dimly lit and it had a faint odor of mildew.

"Where does it go?"

"A dead end. That part's no fun. The cool part is just…this passage. Even Liam doesn't know about this place."

He told her all about how he used to hide away from the court in the passage when he was growing up. Taking a seat on a stone step he peered up at her.

"But…now I do. Why bring me here?"

He told her about how he thought she'd like a secret place to hide and that they could share this one. Josie sat beside him in companionable silence for a few beats.

Finally, she spoke, "Thanks for showing me this place, Drake."

"Thank yooouuu for going on my tour."

"I'd give it five stars. "

"Then my job here is done, " he replied, his face breaking into a goofy grin.

Again they fell into a quiet, Drake staring at his feet as he dragged them across the stone and Josie staring at Drake.

"This passageway reminds me of you." She told him.

"Because I'm cold and stony?"

She threw her head back laughing.

"No, I don't think that at all."

"You might be the only one. "

She laid her hand on his knee and Drake's expression sobered. His eyes settled on it briefly before flicking up to look into Josie's.

"It's a safe haven. Because you make me feel safe."

He swallowed hard.

"I'd never let anything happen to you, Novak."

"I believe you. Even if you haven't always been my biggest fan."

"I never said that!"

She grinned, "You never had to, I could tell you were always trying to keep me at arm's length, Drake."

He stared into her eyes for a long time before he offered, "I…if I didn't keep you close I could ignore what I was feeling. It would be easier when you and Liam…"

"Drake, I was never in love with Liam. I care about him in the same way that you do. "

"But he would move the sun and the moon for you! I just…I don't understand why you would choose me. Liam can give you everything and-"

Josie reached up and placed her forefinger over his lips.

"Life with Liam will always be a whirlwind. Tours and balls and meetings and hidden moments in the hedge maze. Drake, my whole life has been…well a series of unfortunate events. Nowhere has ever felt like home. Everyone has always felt temporary. Coming to Cordonia made that worse. I've been in the center of a maelstrom, especially since the coronation and I…I don't blame Liam, I don't. But, he hasn't been here by my side; and yet…in the middle of my chaos, there was you. Every single time I needed someone, you were there. After everything…I never cared about Liam's wealth. So it doesn't bother me to turn it down for the most valuable things life can offer: love, steadfastness, loyalty. You offer me all of those things, Drake Walker. And in my mind you're worth a thousand Liams."

In a flash Drake's lips were upon hers, his hands coming up to tenderly cup her face on each side. Josie's eyes squeezed shut as she gripped the denim at his waist returning his sentiment. When finally they parted Drake rested his forehead on hers with more clarity in his eyes than she'd seen from his all night.

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, Novak…Josie, but I swear I'll never stop trying to be worthy of you." He whispered reverently. She grazed her hand down his cheek, a shiver going down his spine at her touch.

"You couldn't get rid of me now if you tried."

[jack-is-lost]

The Lost Boys (1987) - Gifset made by me

So you want to know a little bit more about Santa Carla? Well, it’s just about time to continue our tour. We’ve seen both the pier and the Boardwalk. Let’s go a little farther out of town, to a promontory that overlooks the ocean.

If you come to this lookout most any evening, you’ll find a car or two, and even more on weekends. There was only one car there this particular night, an old battered-up Ford. And its two occupants were doing what people usually did when they parked up on the lookout.

You’ve met the occupants, too, although you’ve never been introduced. One of them’s name was Greg, but you’d know him as the leader of the Surf Nazis. You know, the one who liked to steal comic books. In fact, there were stolen comic books thrown all over the front seat of the Ford. Greg was in the back seat with his girlfriend, Shelly. You wouldn’t be able to see inside the car, unfortunately; the windows had gotten all steamed up. You might say they were exercising. And they had been exercising for some time when Shelly pushed Greg away.

“What’s the matter?” Greg managed to ask after he had disengaged himself from Shelly’s sweater.

Shelly looked around the car. “I thought I heard something.”

Greg laughed and started to kiss her again, his hands moving up and down her body. After a minute she couldn’t help herself and replied in kind.

That’s when the top of the car got ripped off. The whole top of the car. And Shelly found Greg plucked from her arms and dragged straight up into the sky.

Shelly screamed. She tried to crawl over the back of the car, to somehow get away. It was useless, of course.

She was next.

The Lost Boys Novelization by Craig Shaw

#the lost boys (1987) #the lost boys #TLB #tlb gifs #my edit

[chaand-sitara]

επτά

❛Being Pretty from the inside, will make you feel pretty from the outside❜

Primadonna was at this moment rummaging in the attic of the Manor, trying to find any heirloom of her family to give to Tyler as he had said he will come get it.

She had looked through photo albums, some old compartments and every place but still couldn't find anything, when suddenly she felt a shine from the corner of the attic.

She went towards the direction of it and Primadonna's eyes went wide, There was an open box which consisted of two things, a broch and a whole ass sword..

❛ people used to fight with such heavy things?❜ Primadonna thought as she picked up both of them up

❛ people used to fight with such heavy things?❜ Primadonna thought as she picked up both of them up. She got out from the attic and was in front of the main door when suddenly she saw Tyler at the doorstep.

❝ Oh hey!You found the heirloom of your family! That's a cool sword man!❞ Primadonna then nodded and asked ❝ Do we really have to give it?ml ❞

Then Tyler nodded and said ❝ Yeah, the founding families have to, But don't worry, you will have it back!❞ Then Tyler took the sword and then asked ❝ You there for the party?❞ Primadonna nodded and said ❝ Yeah, I have to be there, or else your mom would eat me up because I am the only Tsimechla left in Mystic Falls❞

Tyler nodded and Then left to go back to his home. Then Primadonna went inside her room and went to her closet to decide what to wear for today

After a while of pondering she decided to for a purple ruffled tool dress, with matching high heels, and for the hair she made a high ponytail of her wavy hair.

Then she applied some mascara and a coloured lip balm and she was now ready! She grabbed a clutch of same colour of her dress and then left her house, locked the door, and went in her car and went to the lockwood Manor for the party.

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡... ⋙

Primadonna was now able to see the lockwood Manor, then she checked her wrist watch and saw that she has arrived at the perfect timing.

She drove forward and parked her car in a suitable place. She got out and then went inside, as soon as she entered she was face to face with Mrs. Lockwood.

❝ Oh my, Primadonna, you look absolutely beautiful! I have never seen you like this. ❞ Mrs. Lockwood gushed when she looked at the young Neris.

Primadonna gave her a little smile and said ❝ Thank you so much Mrs. Lockwood, just thought I should clean up a bit and look good for an event where my father used to go too.❞

Mrs. Lockwood smiled and said ❝ "Yeah, I believe your father must be missing the fun we all adults used to have today because of the tour he went too, though I remember, even though he wasn't home usually, he used to be there for the party, what happened?❞

Primadonna then sighed and said" Well, a VVIP guest wanted to eat food out of dad's hands so Dad couldn't leave for 2 weeks and I believe this is the starting of the second week. By the way, have you seen my friends? "

Carol lockwood nodded in understanding and said" I believe I haven't sweetie, by the way, you didn't bring any date with you? "

Primadonna blanked out for awhile and then said" Uh, the thing is that my plan to come here was very... Sudden, so that's why I couldn't bring a date"

Carol then nodded in understanding and then smiled while leaving. Primadonna then gave a long sigh and looked around the room for her friends, that's when she had spotted Bonnie.

She walked towards her and tapped her shoulder, Which made Bonnie turn around and squeal a little.

"Oh my god! You're here girl! I thought you were just bluffing at that time out of shock." Primadonna smiled and said "Yeah, I wasn't bluffing, so here I am! By the way, where are the others?"

Bonnie then pointed at all of them, where they were near an old registry, both of them moved towards them and looked at the book with Stefan and Elena.

As soon as Primadonna sees Stefan, her whole body grows cold.. She remembers how both the brothers were not actually humans.. She really wanted to tell Elena, but if something goes wrong, Damon would waste no time in sucking her blood off, which for some reason could've happened yesterday but didn't.

❛The founding families in Mystic Falls welcomes you to the inaugural founder's council celebration.❜ ❝Wow, look, it's the original guest registry. Look at all these familiar names-Sheriff William Forbes, Mayor Benjamin Lockwood. Is that Damon Salvatore?❞ I pause to look at Stefan. ❝And, Stefan Salvatore?❞

Primadonna's focus then goes from Stefan and Damon to the registry and sees that there are actually two people with same names as the brothers, then she sees another name which is scratched out.

❝ The original Salvatore brothers, our ancestors actually, tragic story really❞ Damon says as he and Caroline reach towards them.

Then Primadonna realizes that these both are not their ancestors but actually them. Her hands start to shake and her breathing becomes rigid, which is noticed by both the brothers but they ignore it.

Then Bonnie takes Primadonna away and asks ❝Hey, you okay? If you are not well, or feel like a panic attack is coming up, just leave, you don't have to force yourself to be part of such things.❞

Primadonna then nods sideways and says ❝No, it's not that, it's just that I was about to have a cough but I thought it'll be weird when Damon is explaining his ancestory, so I kept it in.❞

Bonnie then smiled at her friends behaviour and said ❝God Prim, you think about others alot.❞

Then Primadonna said ❝But yeah you're right, I don't want stay here much longer, I think I will go, but first, washroom.❞

✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧

As Primadonna enters the washroom, she sees Elena and Caroline talking about something but as soon as she is about to go in the stall, she sees a bruise on Caroline neck.

"Uh.. Caroline.. I don't think you should cover your bruise like that, it will only hurt more." Both Elena and Caroline look at her with shock and then Caroline asks "What Bruise? There is no bruise!"

Then Elena moves towards Caroline neck and tries to remove her scarf but Caroline grabs the scarf and they have a small tug of War but finally the scarf is then snatched by Elena and they see several bite marks on Caroline's neck.

" Oh my god! Caroline! What happened?" Elena asks in a shock then Caroline says "It's nothing ok? I am fine."

Then Primadonna sees the bit Mark and realizes it's Damon because of the vampire bites on Tanner's neck.

Then Primadonna says "It's not nothing though.." Then Caroline says "Primadonna please, you don't know anything, he just likes it this way."

Primadonna and Elena scrunch their faces in disgust and Elena bursts out of the washroom with Primadonna, Caroline following them to stop them.

Elena and Primadonna then spot Damon and Elena rushes towards them and pushes him away and says.

"There is something seriously wrong with you. You stay away from Caroline or I will go straight to her mother, the sheriff. You got it? Stay away from her." Elena yells at him.

Then Elena goes to Stefan, leaving Primadonna with Damon, Then Damon looks at Primadonna and says "Guess your friend left you here, little miss Heiress"

Primadonna then takes a long breath and says while gritting her teeth "First of all,You piece of shit,my name for you, Is Primadonna Neris Tsimechla. And second of all, I know Damon, your weak compulsion didn't work, guess you also have started drinking from Bambi huh? And seriously? A teenager girl? Caroline is innocent, she didn't do anything, so stay away from her."

After her little rant Primadonna runs away, without giving anytime for Damon to process whatever she said, and when he does, she Is gone.

✯¸.•´*¨'*•✿ ✿•*'¨*'•.¸✯

Primadonna then goes back home and when she reaches the main door she gets a note which says.

Mommy's coming back sweetie

-love, Mommy Neris

'Shit..'

A/n:- this chapter is short because the only main thing here was that Damon knowing Primadonna can't be compelled. So yeah but hopefully I do better in the next chapter, btw thanks for the reads.

#bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #stefan salvatore #austin butler x reader #tvd x reader angst #tvd rp #tvdu

[inkribbon796]

Space is So Cool Ch. 2: To the Moon and Home Again

Summary: Inspired by “In Space with Markiplier” Part 2. Yancy gets to meet a couple of the new Egos.

A/N: Visitation Day and celebrating part 2 of “In Space with Markiplier”.

Seen the name Murdock floating around for Murderipler so I’m going with that.

Chapters: 1, 2

It was strange, not being one of the newest Egos. Things were settling, the viewers were picking favorites, but new things were in motion.

The biggest problem was that Actor and Dark had both been given false scripts and Mark was still cackling about it. Actor had thrown a huge fit, and Dark had run off to break things and grumble in the Void.

A problem for literally everyone except for Wilford, because Wilford found everything hilarious. Yancy had been only around for two years, but he’d been able to get used to Dark’s mood swings.

But the project had passed, Yancy had played his part and the dust was settling.

It had been fun, at least until Actor strolled in with three of the new Egos, the Manor had yet to sort through and spit out any of the others but there was still time.

One was the Engineer. The other was the Egos’ newest resident murderer: Murdock. The third was Noir, he and the air around him was in shades of grey. Not too different from Dark.

Yancy had been in the living room, reading a book. Illinois was in the room as well on his computer researching something for his newest trip.

“And this is my Manor,” Actor gestured to himself. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“Y—” Engineer said before Dark suddenly appeared through some portal and attacked the Actor.

Engineer scrambled away to get away from the fight. It took Host, Google, Wilford, and Magnum to separate the two of them. Magnus had to hold Dark in a bear hug to keep him from attacking. Actor was glaring at Wilford who didn’t seem to be regarding him with any form of recognition.

Noir and Murdock both pulled out weapons but didn’t attack yet.

“Now Dark, you can’t just attack guests, we’ve talked about the art of hospitality,” Wilford said before flipping his butterfly knife out. “You say hello first.”

Then he went to stab Actor, who pulled back, erupting into a puff of black smoke.

“I’ll stay hello when I strangle him,” Dark promised.

“I don’t even know why you’re so upset,” Actor said. “You and I were there for the same amount of time.”

Dark glared at him, one of his echoes snapping at the Actor while the original stayed locked in Magnum’s arms. It made Actor shoot back to avoid getting his head cut off.

“So angry,” Actor smiled, walking away. Then he slapped Engineer on the shoulder as he disappeared in a puff of black smoke. “Well, that’s your problem now, kid.”

Dark glared at Engineer.

“Yancy should take the Engineer away from the Entity,” the Host warned. “Before the Entity attacks him.”

“Good idea,” Wilford smiled. “Old Darkling and I will talk for a bit and he’ll be right as rain in a moment.”

“Fuck you!” Dark shouted at Wilford.

“Later, sweetheart,” Wilford winked, and Dark only seemed to get angrier.

Wilford was cackling in laughter as Yancy pushed Engineer out of the room. Bim was watching them from the top of the stairs but he didn’t say anything as they walked out to the balcony patio.

“He gonna[1] be okay?” Engineer asked, gesturing with his thumb back inside the house.

“Yeah, he’s a little,” Yancy said, gesturing with his hand. “Give ‘im[2] a bit. He’ll come around. Maybe.”

“Helpful,” Engineer said. “Were you on the ship? I think I saw you on the ship.”

“Maybe,” Yancy shrugged. “I’s didn’t see youse, just Y/N. We’s had one hell’uva blast, though.”[3]

“Well, I remember the other guy telling me I’ll probably randomly go back to my ship, and then just appear here. As long as the ship’s okay then I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird but youse[4] are gonna[1] fit right in, don’t worry ‘bout[5] it,” Yancy told him.

Engineer looked over the place, “Nice place.”

“Youse[4] wanna tour?” Yancy offered. “King gave me a tour ‘a[6] the place when I’s[7] showed up.”

“Which one’s that?” Engineer asked as he followed Yancy back to the door.

“The one with all the squirrels. If you hear screamin’[8] in the middle ‘a[6] the night, it’s prolly[9] him,” Yancy said as he walked back in. There was another fight going on, but it wasn’t Dark this time.

The Entity was gone, probably back to his office was Yancy’s only guess. Noir was over with Illinois, looking at something on his computer, only occasionally glancing around the room. But Bim was yelling at Murdock.

“Keep him away from my knives and I won’t take his teeth,” Bim threatened as Wilford separated them.

“Just try it, pretty boy,” Murdock smiled. “Obviously you’re all looks anyways.”

“Now boys,” Wilford held a hand up, trying to keep one hand close to Bim and his martini pointed at Murdock. “You’re not sharing the same room. Everyone just get a nice drink and calm down.”

“I don’t want to calm down, I want this fucker in the ground,” Bim said.

“Change!” Wilford yelled and suddenly Engineer felt dizzy. He’d switched places with Murdock and was standing next to Wilford and a still angry Bim.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you,” Wilford smiled at Yancy, waving his hands and suddenly Yancy and Murdock were elsewhere in the house.

“Fancy,” Murdock looked around. They were on the second floor. “He the only one who can do that?”

“Happens ta e’eryone,”[10] Yancy said.

“Interesting,” Murdock said.

“Youse[4] wanna tour?” Yancy offered. “I’ll go an’ see ‘bout the other guys. If youse wanna sit tight?”[11]

“Sure,” Murdock shrugged.

Yancy was able to get away and slip back downstairs to get Engineer and Noir. Illinois even accompanied them on the tour. It felt nice after the fights, trying to help the new Egos settle in.

Just like had been done for Yancy not too long ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. going to

2. him

3. I didn’t see you, just Y/N. We had one hell of a blast, though.

4. you

5. about

6. of

7. I

8. screaming

9. probably

10. Happens to everyone

11. I’ll go and see about the other guys. If you want to sit tight?

#In Space with Markiplier #ISWM #Visitation Day #footnotes #yancy the prisoner #ahwm yancy #Engineer Mark #Noriplier #Murderiplier #Wilford Warfstache #Darkiplier #Actor Mark #background Darkstache #because I'll quit when I'm dead #Yancy's back from space camp

[triforceangel13]

Sing Me A Melody Ch. 11 (A BakuDeku Omegaverse Au)

Chapter 11: Concert

Izuku was settling into this life pretty well. He got to sit during practices and even helped Katsuki take care of Eri who was latched to his side now.

It was cute and it warmed his heart that the little pup found him so endearing. He assumed it was from her birth mother not giving her any piece of mind.

But now it was time for something they had all been waiting for. Then things would be changing for Izuku forever.

Katsuki had gotten his lease broken and all of his items in his apartment, little as they were, with them. He was not leaving Izuku behind.

It wasn't much like Izuku wanted to be left behind. Aside from being his mate he was also their new song writer.

He bid Uruaka and Iida farewell though the other omega was not fond of the idea. She tried to talk him out of moving away with him after what happened with Dabi but Izuku told her he couldn't stay. Aside from Dabi knowing he was in town it was also that he wanted to be with his alpha.

But she made a good point to say that Katsuki hadn't asked for his bite back to fully bond the two of them together.

He ignored it and bid her goodbye and that he would message her.

Things had just been too crazy right now to think about such things. Aside from Katsuki having to practice for the concert and get their next hotel in the next city booked, he had to take care of his daughter and get thigns in motion.

The blonde had already talked to a lawyer about gaining full custody of Eri from her mother. The woman still hadn't answered her phone of her whereabouts or when she would be coming to pick Eri up.

Not that Katsuki or even Izuku would let that happen. The woman was unfit to raise a child and that much was made evident but how skinny Eri was.

They had spoken about not having kids before but now the two of them settled in nicely with raising Eri together.

Izuku had healed and he had a small sense of relaxation knowing that Dabi couldn't at least track his exact location. He could still find what city he went to as long as Katsuki was on tour but for now he was safe.

That night was the night of the concert. Izuku had never gotten to go to one of Katsuki's concerts. He had never had the money to scrounge up to do so.

But now as his mate he was able to get a special vip pass with eri and have a private booth for them to sit in and enjoy the show.

It was up close with tinted windows and with a little bit of sound proofing inside so the sound wasn't as loud.

Katsuki had brought them in his limo with the rest of the band and even into his dressing room where they watched him get ready.

Eri was bouncing around already happy, wearing one of Katsuki's tshirts of his band that was much too big for her but she wore as a dress. Izuku had his old one on as well and smiled at how excited Eri was to be there.

“I've never got to see one of Daddy's shows like this,” Eri said beaming, boucning on the couch. Izuku sat next to her, guiding her back down gently so she woudn't hurt herself.

“Nether have I. We'll have so much fun,” Izuku said with a smile to her, tickling her side. She giggled and sat on his lap, looking at Katsuk in the mirror as he put some eyeliner on.

“Daddy, can you do a special wave to us?” Eri asked. Katsuki smirked and turned to look at the two of them. Izuku flushed darkly at the sight. Katsuki was goregeous already but that eyeliner look was always something that made him practically drool.

“You bet priness,” he said to her with a smile. “I'll do one only you and Izuku will know. How about that? What would you like it to be?”

“Can you raise your hands and give two thumbs up?” she asked.

“Sure,” Katsuki said, rising from his seat and Izuku swallowed as the rock star came to stand near them. “I'll throw in a little wink too that way you know.”

He stood before them and Izuku felt his breath hitch at the sight of his alpha. It was one ting to see him on videos and such and sure he had seen him in nothing at all.

But here in his element he seemed to just ooze confidence. Needless to say if Eri was not in the room with them he would have made the rock star late with how badly he wanted to just be swept up in his arms again.

Eri smiled with a big grin, practicing the pose and then held her arms up. Katsuki scooped her up, holding her close as he twirled her and then sat her down in his make up chair.

“Now how about I do a little magic on you so that you can show just how much you support me?” he asked his daughter. Eri bounced in her seat.

“Can I get your x thing on my cheek?” she asked.

“Of course princess,” Katsuki said and he knelt down to start drawing a small orange and black x on his daughter's cheek with some make up, happy to make her stand out and give her a fun experience that evening.

Concerts like this really weren't for children her age but Katsuki felt it important that she knew and was partially part of this life.

He wasn't ashamed of it, he didn't want her to be ashamed of it either, and one day he would let her experience a concert the way it was meant to.

Just now being so young he wanted to make sure she was safe and that no one would bother her while she was there.

Izuku smiled softly at the bonding moment between them and he picked up his notebook that started it all, scribbling on one of the latest pages. He had started to write another song though the tone was much different.

He just wondered if Katsuki would even want to sing it. The tone of most of his music had been dark which matched the blonde perfectly. Now that his life was starting to take a turn for the better the tone of his music had shifted.

But he hadn't shared it yet either. Ever since the notebook incident Katsuki had been very respectful not to pick it up and look through it or even ask. He waited for Izuku to tell hm or show him if he wanted to do so.

“Izuku,” the blonde called as he worked on his daughter's make up.

“Hm?” Izuku asked as he looked up from the notebook.

“Do I have your permission to sing your song tonight?” he asked. Izuku's eyes widened. This was the first concert after his song had debuted wthout his permission. There was something sweet about him asking about it.

“Yeah,” Izuku said with a soft smile. Besides, don't you know the rights to it Kacchan?”

“Sort of, but I still want to ask since I never got to last time,” Katsuki reminded him. Izuku flushed and smiled at Eri as she hopped down from the chair. She had very little make up on but it was cute and it brought out the matching red of her eyes to her father.

“Izuku, you want in?” Katsuki asked.

“I don't know..” he said. Compared to the two of them now he felt rather plain but he wasn't usually one to wear make up.

“Pleeease?” Eri asked. “We can match.”

“I'll be gentle,” the blonde said, giving him a small wink. Izuku flushed even more at that and he stood up, heading to the chair Eri had been sitting in.

“Okay, okay,” he said with a soft laugh and sat down. Katsuki gently rest his fingers on the bottom of his chin to have him tilt his head up, coming in close with the eyeliner.

“Try to stay still,” he said with a wink.

*

Izuku held Eri's hand as they were lead to the private viewing room by security. He smiled at the sight. It had a good view of the stage to be able to see but also had some sound proofing so it wouldn't be so loud.

It had glass windows on all sides but it was tinted meaning they could stare out but no one could stare in.

What more could he ask for?

“Looky, looky!” Rri said cheerfully as she let go and went to the couch in the room. There was a bear that looked similar to Katsuki and also a small bag in green next to it. “Daddy got us gifts.”

She handed him the bag and went back to the couch as Izuku took a seat down, giggling softly at how excited she was to hug onto the rock star bear.

Eri started to play with her bear and Izuku opened up his present. He let out a soft gasp as he pulled out a jewlery box, a necklace inside of a moon with a red stone in the center, one that matched Katsuki's eyes.

“So pretty,” Eri gushed, looking at it. Izuku smiled and clipped it onto himself, resting his fingers on it.

“Definitely is,” Izuku said and grinned when he heard the first notes of a guitar for the concert to start up.

He had never been to a concert before and honestly he liked this. He got to witness it first hand but didn't need to worry about the crowds or hurting his ears.

Being a newly marked omega would have set him off with the overhwelming of scents.

He watched as the band came out one by one, each gaining their own cheers. First Kirishima, than Kaminari, then Mina, and then finally Katsuki came out with a blaze of fireworks.

The crowd went wild and Eri let out a scream of joy, hopping up and down on the couch.

“It's Daddy!” she said with a big grrin. Izuku helped guide her down again. She went right to the window to watch, bouncing up and down in excitement.

Izuku smiled softly and wathced as she cheered and sang at least what she knew. They had sat in on practicies but this was much different.

Izuku thought he was one of the biggest fans but clearly Katsuki's biggest fan was his cute little daughter.

As the night stretched on Katsuki held his guitar, ready to start he next song.

He raised his hands, facing the windows and gave two thumbs up and a wink right to them. Eri cheered happily, the blonde grinning as he was sure she was freaking out.

“He did it!” she cried out.

“This next song goes out to someone very special to me,” Katsuki said, nodding towards Mina to start up the music which the crowd cheered for. Izuku flushed recognizing it. His song. Katsuki was singing it again.

“This is for you baby,” Katsuki said towards the window and started up the song.

Izuku flushed, standing up for the first time that night and he head to the window, resting his hands on the glass as he watched for the first ime his alpha sing the song he wrote.

After a few moments he started to sing along with it, losing himself in the song. He never thought himself of a singer at all, he had been told too often that he really wasn't one that should be singing at all.

What he didn't know was Eri looked up at him with wide eyes and a large smile on her face. To her, his voice was beautiful and perfect.

She grabbed Izuku's phone, starting a recording with the help of the secrutiy guard. She wanted to save this moment and maybe even share it with her Daddy.

All the while Izuku didn't notice, too enamored in his alpha.

I’m open for written commissions

want to support? my patreon (triforceangel)

my a03 (triforceangel) as another place to read my fic

#my hero academia #bakudeku #sing me a melody

[1337wtfomgbbq]

❤️👻🎨🔮 for the fic writer asks! Mwah!

Thank you for that ask bestie🤗

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

I think that still goes to Bjarne saying to Jan, "I'm not going to fuck you. I'm going to make love to you."

Although I also love Jan telling Bjarne: „All I know, is that there is this tension between us. That you keep looking at me like, like... Like I'm something special.“

Both in 'Just a few days in Tuscany'.

What can I say... that fic is my comfort fic🤭

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

I think the wildest of them all is my headcanon that Jan self sabotaged in 1998 so that Marco was able to take the yellow jersey from him on stage 15 of the Tour.

That he couldn't handle the pressure of being Tour champion and did what he could so that he wouldn't have to shoulder the weight anymore.

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Ufff, that's a hard one...

I think I would be most excited for some fanart of Ullriis in the Tuscany setting just because I love that fic so so much.

🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

Don't be so hard on yourself.

I know you wanna write and it's frustrating that your brain is sabotaging you. I found that actually allowing for 'no writing' and focusing on other stuff really helped me.

Reading that book you have been putting off, reding a comic or manga, rewatching an old favorite movie or show or watching something new, I found that really helps.

I once read a post that said something along the lines of that creativity needs to be fed. You can't keep busting out creative energy without feeding your brain something creative. Meaning... you have to consume creative content to be able to create.

Also... try to get outside and do something nice for yourself. I know it's harder said than done, especially if the root cause is burnout or depression, but it 1) doesn't help your creativity to stay cooped up inside, and 2) there is so much beauty outside that can really help your creativity and your overall mental health.

Overall, don't try and force your creativity by any means necessary... give yourself loads of grace and just wait. It will come back, I promise you that. (Again, especially if the root cause is burnout or depression, being hard on yourself will only make things worse. Be nice to yourself. get out of bed, take a shower and really pamper yourself, make yourself some really nice food, take a walk outside, go to a cafe and just have a drink alone, read something light (fanfic counts) or watch something you love or something new)

#junky answers #personal #junky's writing #junky writes

[mystiika]

@freezegirl asked: [ UNBUTTON ] : due to heat or stress or other reasons, sender unbuttons the top of their shirt to reveal their neckline. / warren meme: sexual tension prompts ( accepting )

the day had come they'd decided on for khione to come over & meet kaa. warren had taken a lot of care to have her over on a day his mother was far from home — his mom would ask enough questions to him once she'd returned, he didn't want to subject kie to her needless & downright endless curiosity.

walking in the house felt spacious all things considered, unassuming from the exterior & the decor inside was rather simple too. though, there were indoor plants all around, absolutely thriving. there was even some long-vined plant woven in & out of the banister of their stairs from the ground floor to the second several times over, a single pot placed tucked at the bottom form which it grew. it would come as a surprise but it was mainly warren's care that the plants had grown so well. his mother loved the plants & was good at maintaining but as soon as one began to decline, warren was the one to take over & bring it back to full health. ❝ my mom is big on plants. ❞ it's about all the explanation he gives on that front, giving her a vague tour as they passed things on the way up & to his bedroom.

his bedroom was, admittedly, on the warmer side of things. it didn't bother him, & kaa certainly liked it that way. it didn't occur to him until he spotted the loosening at the top of kie's blouse. nothing crazy but even a single button left him with a pang of sheepish guilt. not that it showed in his face but he felt apologetic nonetheless. ❝ sorry, i should have warned you. ❞ he'd offer to open a window but the chill outside at this time of year was a little too harsh to let in so suddenly.

compared to the rest of the home it felt... messier, not that it was unclean though. instead it was through decorations; posters & pieces of things he found interesting were plastered on the walls. a couple cars, some bands he likes, a random snake decal he thought look like kaa. there was even a picture of some graffiti tag with his name that looked worn against the concrete backdrop & was obviously something he found by accident.

there was also a book shelf in one corner, packed full. most of them looked pretty worn having found most of them second hand. & was a mix of genres of a few genres, some literary classics ( admittedly some he had only because he felt obligated to read them ), some of the basic popular series old & new so he was at least vaguely aware of pop culture. there was a small section of poetry with both known & unknown authors next to a second slightly larger section of mystery novels & thrillers. there was also some mythology books, mostly chinese mythology that he wanted to look into after hearing stories from some of the āyí's at the paper lantern ( he'd only been 13 when he'd talked his way into a job there so when it was quiet he'd get to hear all sorts of things ). his desk was pretty clear too, mostly it was school related items, an assignment he was working on, an open pencil case, but there were some cantonese workbooks as well, with a dictionary propped up next to them. then as they walk further in, finally comes the sight of an electric guitar & amp on the far side of his desk, a red body & covered in both stickers & decals ( not unlike his walls ).

after giving her some time to look around, ❝ —if you want when i grab kaa from her enclosure & bring her to the living room or something so you can hold her there. ❞ he spots a shirt on the floor he'd missed when tidying earlier, quick to kick it under his bed before she notices it. khione says she's fine where they are but warren couldn't tell if she truly didn't mind or was just being nice. regardless, he picked kaa up gently, hands delicate. he opts to put her on his desk for the moment. next warren reaches halfway to kie's hands only stopping to ask ❝ can i just...? ❞ in a half spoken request.

the idea was to warn her hands up so she could hold kaa. he had to compose himself to do so, heart racing despite thinking to himself that it was stupid to react this way, but he can't help but wonder whether this counted as holding her hand ( he supposes it does ). once he felt her hands were warm enough he switched to holding one hand, tugging kindly to draw her towards the desk.

❝ alright so come stand uh..  here. &... ❞ he trails off but doesn't stop touching her, instead he guides her hand, both of them palms facing down. warren even finds his fingers dropping ever so slightly to lace between hers, his fingers continuing to radiate warmth into her. all this so he could gently guide her to pass over kaa's scales, fingers coasting along her body until kaa turns herself around half hitting her head into kaa's palm almost as if she was looking for further petting.

❝ i guess she likes you. ❞ this is fine, he's fine. well, he's trying to convince himself. .with his arm & hand over khione he's almost stood behind her, save a slight step it would take to stand further by her side. as such, his words are a little quiet, spoken close to her ear. he thinks he spots goosebumps but can't help but wonder if he'd imagined it. her shoulder felt cool against his chest where they touched. & he can't help but think about how nice she smells ( thankful he'd taken the time to make sure he did as well ).

they stay like that for a moment, or until khione has had her fill of snake at least. the bit of small talk they carried all the while before it's time for warren to put kaa back, his skin still feeling the aftereffect in the ghost of her touch. in his mind drifts, suddenly so much more aware of the fact they were alone in his room. ❝ —are you hungry? i could cook us something, ❞ then, ❝ nothing spicy. ❞

#freezegirl #asks — you have a question & i have an answer #warren tag tba. #queue.

[corndoggod]

$1B Powerball

My last nights in Lincoln are always a grand, packed tour around town. This time I had to visit my Dad, return Max’s headlamp, deposit leftover mushies with Graham, and then pick up Grandma and takeout for dinner.

I went to visit my Dad first and brought a box of personal effects gathered from his upstairs junkyard of an apartment. My first week back in town was spent clearing out his FEMA-level disaster of a hurricane home, swept up in a billion pages of history and literature, dusted with mouse shit and chewings, pollinated with dust and crumbs of an unkempt life. We filled up ten industrial trash bags and boxed a lifetime collection of books for donation, which pained me.

But I took care to set aside a few books for myself, books to sell, and my Dad’s Library of America collection -- his only request (though more would follow too late to act on). I kept a few books with great covers from the 80s, some NYRB books my dad lifted from me, and a few that reminded me of him, like an anthology of Sports Illustrated articles.

Beyond books, we also preserved baseball cards, photographs, letters, and inherited family heirlooms, which amounted to small bits of jewelry and other bobbits. I brought a box of these to him and opened up a velvet-bound memorial record that contained newspaper clippings, handwritten notes and, photographs.

Inside this book I learned where I’m from. I was told I had roots in England and Ireland, but here at last was evidence of my Englishness. An undated news clipping said my great-grandfather and great-grandmother moved from Hansley, England to Des Moines, Iowa in 1912. My great grandma, Emily Louise Moorecroft Goodwin, was 31, just a year older than I am now. She married Ernest from her hometown and together they had four daughters and three sons, one of which was my Grandpa John.

I also learned Grandpa John played basketball and was able to pick him out of a lineup of muscled, white lads standing in a row, the first of which was holding a trophy. He had sharp, hallowed cheeks like me.

It hurt seeing my dad in a nursing home. I found him sitting cross-legged in bed, which was about the only physical feat he was capable of these days, with the evening news megaphoned for his near-deaf ears, dialing a number into his phone. “Hey bear,” I said, a residual habit from romping around grizzly country. “I was just about to call you,” he said. “I figured as much,” I said muting the TV.

I need to remember his life isn’t mine. He’s made his choices, which have landed him with two boxes of books, a handful of shirts, no furniture, and six months worth of savings. But I still feel the injustice of trashing his library. If only I had more time I would’ve liked to comb through his possessions, salvage what family history I could, and organize his collections. But I didn’t have the time nor the patience in the airless June heat to deal with his bipolar fish-lipped troll of a roommate caning about below, jeering “Welcome to the gates of hell.”  

“When will you be back?” My dad asked, as he always does. “Don’t worry, I won’t cry. I barely cry anymore since they got me on these antidepressants. But I miss crying; usually it’s from joy.”

I demurred at first, saying I wasn’t sure and that I’d already spent a lot of money and time off coming to Lincoln. But I mustered the courage to say I’d be staying in New York for Christmas. “I want to start my own holiday traditions with Celina,” I said. “And it’d be nice to be in the city for Christmas while everyone is away.” Life had been fast and I was ready to sit still in my new home. I was ready to think, read, write, play Zelda.

He understood and told me Christmas in New York is a special time. “It really is,” I said.

I gave him a third and final hug. Neither of us cried.

I met Graham at the Old Pub and invited Max and Catherine to join us on 11th. Graham was seated at the end of the bar by a bunch of regulars glued to their seats, donning a newly buzzed head. “We’re buzz brothers,” I said. “Yeah, but I fucked mine up,” he told me. “Looks like Celina fucked yours up too,” and he reached by my ear, as if he were going to magically pull a coin from my ear canal, but then he said, “Oh wait, that’s just some long ass ear hairs.”

I ordered a High Life and we wandered down the bar to some open stools where I started to tell him about the road trip. I didn’t get far. Just to the first day, camping in a spot near Valentine he recommended us, when Max and Catherine walked in.

I hadn’t really refined our four-state journey into a narrative yet. It was more of a long list of things done and sights seen, including an endless scroll of breathtaking scenery and mild/pleasant hallucinations.

Graham had a better story of driving Charles and his dad to the airport at 4am, which was exactly what I had to do the next morning.

Here’s my best attempt at puppeteering Graham: So I’m at the bar with Charles and he asks if I’d drive up with him to Omaha for his 6 am flight so he can go diddle around in France for two months. I’m drunk so I agree. We stay out drinking until the bar closes and I ask if he’s even packed yet. He’s not of course and I go home wondering if this is even gonna happen. But then 4am rolls around and I get a call from Charles saying he and his dad are on the way. He throws me the keys and suddenly I’m driving while they snooze in the back.

This was my first time meeting Charles’ dad and he’s just like him. They’re both wearing suits, snoring like hogs, and I can totally understand why his mom left them. [Jesus Christ Graham, Max interjected.] He’d kill me if he heard any of this, but maybe he should hear it. So anyway it’s 4:30am and I’m driving 85 mph trying to haul ass to Omaha and we luckily make it on time. I’m tired as hell and ready to go home, but his dad goes: I wanna treat you to breakfast. And you know me, sober me, I can’t say what I feel so I say: Sure old man, let’s get a cup of coffee. He takes me to the worst diner ever and then has 35 cups of coffee, hailing down this poor waitress every other minute. We’re there so long I learn it’s the waitress’s birthday. He takes the bill and asks me how much I usually tip. Generous, I say. 25%, sometimes 100 depending. These people make shit for money, you know. Then he gets up to go to the bathroom and I look at the bill to see what he tipped. He left $2 on a $25 bill. Can you believe that? 35 cups of coffee, wearing a goddamn suit and it’s her fucking birthday for Christ’s sake. So I go up to her and give her $50 and say: Sorry about the old guy. I don’t even know him really, just met him today. But anyway happy birthday.

Then Max took his turn: Last time I took mushrooms from Max Taylor, I ate a whole bag, like six grams. [Jesus Christ Max, Graham and I chorus] Nobody wants to look at their phone when they’re tripping, but I loved being on my phone. I was texting everybody, calling friends, sending audio messages. I was battling depression a lot then and this was part of an effort to get out of it. I had just left my job and was about to go to the goat farm in New Mexico. And I think it worked. [Yeah, said Graham. You’re definitely changed. You got those tics now.] I had the Life Aquatic on tape ready to play in case things went south and they did. There was a 30-60min spell where I thought I might have to go to the hospital. But I got through it and then I was like: Fuck yeah! Oh yeah! Bring it on. This shit is fucking awesome. I don’t remember what stuck with me or if it really changed me, but I do say jiminy cricket a lot now. I’d never said jiminy cricket before but I was texting Cale jiminy fucking cricket every minute and now I say jiminy cricket all the time.

By then we’d slugged a couple long necks and taken a pickle back so big it took three gulps. I wanted to stay for another and Graham said he had brats at home he needed to grill.

But I didn’t stay out til closing time like I used to. It was nearly 9pm now and I still owed my Mom dinner. Seeing Grandma was out of the question, so I called her on the way home to catch up. After Max, Catherine and Graham made their cases for me ordering plato mixto or enchiladas moles at El Chapparo, I gave them two hugs a piece and went on my way, a little sadder than before, thinking how much I love my Lincoln friends and all the long nights and laughs we share.

I might as well have stayed out all night because I couldn’t sleep. A dream taunted me. A dream in which I was scouting a safe spot to set up camp in grizzly country. I was glad to be rid of nighttime spooks in the great wilds, protected only by the thin membrane of a tent. But clearly I hadn’t shaken my bearxiety just yet.

I had a lovely talk with my Mom on our pre-dawn drive to the airport. It’s such a frenzy whenever I come home -- trying to see this person and do that task -- that the hour-long drive to Omaha is often the best time for us to really catch up and have a meaningful conversation. I’ve asked her all kinds of questions then, like why she wanted to be a teacher, how she met my Dad, raising me in her 20s, and how things between her and Dad fell apart.  

She told me how happy I seemed and she was right. I had too many friends, the best partner in Celina, and a good, but demanding job. I was balanced. I said she seemed to be doing well too. She was settling into her new shared home with Neil (read: staging a coup) and traveling all around. She’d visited Florida earlier in the summer, was leaving for the Texas oven on Friday to watch Oppenheimer, booked a Colorado cabin for the fall, and planned to visit me in New York to meet Celina’s family come March. These were small luxuries she hadn’t previously enjoyed, raising two kids on a teacher’s salary.

I’ve landed now. I want to give the city a new lease, my work self a longer leash, and resuscitate my writing and running self. I’m home again.

[picklesabroad]

Cappadocia

Cappadocia was a lot colder than where we had been. The mornings were crisp, hovering around the 8-10 degree mark, and the days got up to the mid-late 20s. We were loving the change in temperature.

Goreme itself is a very little town. We managed to walk around the whole thing in one morning, which was great. Sophie found her new favourite flavour of chips - yoghurt and herbs.

The second morning we were in Goreme, we were woken at 5:15am by a great whooshing noise. I looked out the window and saw hot air balloons hovering right over our hotel. RIGHT OVER IT. Soph and I leapt from our beds and raced up to the rooftop terrace of our building to see the balloons. I had known of the sunrise balloons in Cappadocia, but I didn't realise there were so many of them and that they flew right over the town. The balloons were coming so close that I could have a conversation with the people in the baskets, a lot of them were asking me to tag them on Instagram *insert eye roll here*. The most striking thing about the scene was how quiet everything was. The only thing you could hear for miles around was the whooshing of the flames as the balloon pilots navigated the trees and buildings in town - yes, they got so low that they had to pick their way around the taller trees and buildings. I don't really know what OSH standards they work to here.

(I copied and pasted some of this info below just FYI). We had booked a tour that day, so we got in our shuttle and drove 1 hour out of Goreme to see the Selime Monastery. The Monastery dates back to the 8th and 9th centuries and throughout history was home to the Hittite, Assyrian, Persian, Roman, Byzantine, Danişment, Seljuk and Ottoman civilizations. The rooms are carved out of the rock walls of the hills - the rock is soft and easy to carve. On the way up to the monastery, first, you go through a tunnel-like corridor, which was part of the caravan path on which camels walked. The camel caravans came to Selime for a stopover as there was a large bazaar there, and for protection, camels were led to the central part of the monastery. It was neat.

The other major stop we made was to the underground city. The underground cities housed entire civilisations for up to 6 months while the land outside was frozen and unliveable. There are many underground cities near Cappadocia - another thing the soft rock of the region lends itself well to - and the one we visited was 8 floors deep. We only went to the 4th floor, which itself was 45m underground - that is enough for me! Some of the passageways that linked the rooms up were so small I was pretty much crawling on my knees to get through them - very tight. If you have any sort of claustrophobia you aren't allowed to do this part of the tour. Our guide told us that a lot of the city was unexplored as there are booby-trapped and poisoned rooms that the old residents built as security precautions and that anyone who strays could get lost in the labyrinth of the city very easily. We stuck to the safe route.

Tour done, we spent a day up in the nearby city of Avanos, where we had coffee and lunch and explored the old town. It was a lovely little city. We then bussed back to town and I went out on a sunset horse ride. The horse ride took us through the fairy chimneys (the stone peaks that were created by eruptions spaning a 1000-year period) and up to the top of Love Valley, where we watched the sun go down. The soft rock sides of the mountains erode very easily and begin to look like melting ice cream - very unusual and cool.

One of the mornings we walked up the top of Tepe peak before sunrise to watch the balloons come up. It is still mostly dark when they take to the skies above Goreme, and it is quite a surreal sight - like seeing a hundred rising stars as the flames light up the inside of the balloons. We had an escort of three of the local stray dogs (they were very friendly and just enjoyed being around us) that walked us up to the top of the peak and then stayed with us the whole time, playing with each other. When we got to the top we found a couple of camels grazing, and joined them to watch the balloons as the sky was lightening.

Goreme and Cappadocia were gorgeous. I said goodbye to Soph on our third morning, and off I went to Cassis in the South of France, and she went on to Berlin.

[sociieties]

@peachmuses: 5 times niji worried hr. / bad end

i. kazuya hates that he was right about this. hates that he knew that there was one of two ways things would end after tatsuya came back and tried to wedge his way between shuuzou and makoto. he despises the way that it worked even after he'd told tatsuya to not break them up after tatsuya said that he could. this was not supposed to happen. this much, kazuya distinctly telling ryou the same day that it happened and he also remembers ryou telling him that there was only so much he could do about the situation. ryou, naturally, was right, but both of them knew things had gone from bad to worse after shuuzou appears on his doorstep, wasted, telling him that makoto had left with tatsuya.

shit. shit / shit / shit. why -- kazuya doesn't have time to stress about it because he's too worried that this might be shuuzou's breaking point. he forces himself to drop his own frustrations, carefully guiding soulmate inside to offer him home for the night. when ryou comes around the corner, kazuya frowns at lover and later that night, when shuuzou's out cold on the couch, he explains everything to the love of his life.

ii. on makoto's birthday, shuuzou is quiet. he'd come to stay the night before and while kazuya's concerned, ryou tells him they can keep shuuzou company while kazuya goes off with his band. ( really, they should be touring, but kazuya's too worried about his best friend to think to leave. his band mates know that something is up, but kazuya makes it up to everyone by suggesting they get two - three more albums out before they leave tokyo. )

he's gone for all of two hours when he gets the call from ryou / they're distressed and talking about how shuuzou hasn't moved an inch. he's not speaking, only sitting on the floor, clutching a pillow for dear life while tears freely stream down his face. shuuzou is unresponsive and ryou is bad at this -- kazuya's usually the one that talks to people when they're crying. kazuya, in turn, drops everything and heads back home to find a slowly breaking shuuzou and a helpless ryou. when he steps inside, they're both crying -- for two completely different reasons -- and kazuya wants to rip his hair out.

iii. the first time someone brings up makoto by name, it's ryou, in passing, telling kazuya about how they researched autism after makoto told them he was autistic -- something to go along with how ryou researched bpd after shuuzou said something about it. kazuya mentally cringes at the mention of the name and while his outwards expression doesn't change, ryou reads him like a book and asks him what's wrong. kazuya then explains how he thinks -- very loosely put -- that maybe, now after everything, he feels like he hates makoto now. this has nothing to do with shuuzou and everything to do with makoto's piss poor decisions.

the next time anyone hears from shuuzou, it's because, as it would seem, shuuzou had added kazuya into his emergency contact. as it stands, it's not shuuzou on the other end of the line, but a paramedic / they tell him that the first person in his emergency contact didn't pick up and asked if he could come. kazuya asks who the first person was / they say they cannot say / kazuya guesses makoto / the short silence on the other end of the line confirms everything that kazuya needs to know.

right. he was right to think that he now hates makoto. the makoto of old would never ignore a call from shuuzou / the makoto of old always made sure to answer his phone because he always worried that something would happen to shuuzou -- something serious -- something like some fucking paramedic calling at three in the fucking morning because someone found him blacked out, face down in middle of the street, completely unresponsive despite now being awake. whoever makoto is now, kazuya hates everything about him.

iv. kazuya's in fukuoka with his band / ryou's back home, watching over home and the pets and shuuzou, if need be. kazuya hopes, with every fiber of his being, that the need doesn't come.

fate tests him six days into being away and ryou's calling him saying that shuuzou had come over and when kazuya asks if he needs to come home, ryou tells him not to. ryou says that they can handle it and he can hear shuuzou speak in the background / worry about your band, zu, i just stopped by to say hi. before he can call either one on their bullshit, someone's calling out to him because they need to do a soundcheck. kazuya sighs before saying his goodbyes, telling ryou that they can talk later, after the show.

like clockwork, kazuya calls back only to get no answer and just as he starts thinking of the worst possible scenarios, ryou's sending him pictures of them and shuuzou. there's two of shuuzou in the kitchen, learning how to make the rice ryou usually makes for him, another of ryou on the couch and shuuzou stretched out across him / one of koda resting atop a sleeping shuuzou.

[ text; mine. moon. ] so he's fine? [ text; mine. moon. ] you know when we got koda i didn't think he'd end up being an esa, but if it works then it works ig. [ text; mine. moon. ] don't forget to take care of yourself too, love [ text; zou ] when we swing back by tokyo, i'm taking you with me

v. shuuzou is allowed his space. he is allowed to go silent for a bit, so long as he returns to the real world. with that being said, a week of nothing from shuuzou is concerning and it worries not only ryou, but kazuya, too. it's neither one of them who find shuuzou, but koda. it's koda who runs off from kazuya when they're walking down the street and dog takes off before kazuya has a proper grasp on the leash ( his fault, really ) and he's following his tosa all the way to shuuzou and -----

it's that clubhouse. kazuya remembers it, vaguely, after having been there two or three times before. it had nothing to do with him, and he'd avoid it even now if it wasn't for koda. koda stands outside the door, barking as kazuya catches up to him and takes his leash up again.

" koda, baby, you can't ju-- " scolding stops cold when the door opens and shuuzou steps outside. while he looks terrible, it doesn't top the time he had to rush to emergency care to get to him after being called up in the middle of the night. " zou... "

whatever's going on in shuuzou's head, kazuya has no clue, leaving kazuya quiet as he watches his best friend rub sleep out of his eyes before he drops to koda's level and presses a tired kiss into his head. koda whines softly as shuuzou speaks to him before attention turns back to soulmate. somehow, kazuya is not surprised. phone is already in hand, texting lover to let them know that he's with shuuzou and he's in one piece. " how's lunch sound? " ( kazuya doesn't immedately ask. shuuzou doesn't immedately tell. they can talk about whatever happened later. ) " i've been thinking about checking out that new sushi bar. get cleaned up, it's my treat. "

#there is more to life; ! answered #ha. kaz. revisiting music . verse #peachmuses #peachmuses: shuuzou #peachmuses: ryou #nkru! bad alt. #drabble.

[baekhvuns]

RM afraid of Barca?! Bestie... pls 😭 I don't think so, but they need to get their shit together for sure, invest in younger players, because Benzema won't be there forever. Their recent season was 👌🏻 let's keep it up. Lmao not the Sheikhs buying all the top football stars? And for what 💀 for more money obviously, but that's just ridiculous. Kaka let the devil on his shoulder win 👀

You can try searching the basement, good luck, there are spiders in there! Maybe even snakes who knows 😉

I'm gonna watch one of those "I read Harry's book so you don't have to videos" to see what's going on there

Waiting for old Exo to come back, their last comeback was so-so, but hoping for the best! Can't believe Shinee and Exo will be coming back again <3 Shinee world tour... I think it's safe to say their world is very limited lmao. Okay but wtf was that GOT song, slightly better than Step Back cause the bar is in hell, but it felt so long and chaotic yet I felt like nothing happened 😭 and the MV? So unoriginal it's so sad, free these women! I haven't checked the mini yet, cause I don't feel motivated

That manhwa might be nothing special, but it's pulling at my heart strings. They're both whipped I'm afraid lovesick boys... oh yes, pls do start reading it's a slow burn and the beginning is frustrating for a few reasons, but it's fun. Also I realised something about my boy Eunhyuk and it's devastating, I feel so bad for him 💔

That bathroom scene in HP, iconic dare I say, yes! I was shaking for real lmao

Omg yes, young Jude had this Italian or French feel to him, a few British actors had that thing to them when they werw younger.

With the way some fansites act I'd not trust them around Seonghwa I think we should be present as well to make sure they're not acting up. Seonghwa bodyguard team! And I can take pictures, I'm better than some of those glorified paparazzi

Usually coloured ink is a bit more invasive(?) let's say, it depends of course. Actually snake's skin is very soft, I was truly surprised. A few people who were always against snakes kinda changed their minds once they felt the skin, but obviously bigger snakes look very intimidating

STOPBTHAY VIDEOOSOOSOOKAJJSJSJHAHAHA Seonghwa's smile is so sweet, the way his whole face lits up and his eyes 😢

The fact some stupid men and simp girls call Shakira crazy, I mean she's doing a lot lol, but he deserves it! Shakira Isabel Mebarak Holmes. Oh god I'd just move out tbh, but this is much funnier

I'll re-read model ONE DAY okay...

San was channeling his inner Loid Forger in that suit

I have to be honest I only found out like a week ago what rizz means, I'm a boomer <3

Sugar baby Hwa? That's my material baby girl

This whole thread 🧎🏻‍♀️and truth

I love him but this is fucked up, I won't tolerate this, I bet his alarm wakes everyone but him 💀

MY ROCKSTAR BABY

Did you see Jeonghan and Ten at YSL? And where the fuck is Seonghwa?! These stupid brands are useless!!!

Oh about Varanassi, it was years ago so I can't tell exactly, but I don't think so? I don't believe in spiritual things so I wouldn't really know sjhsuaajsjshbabshs I only feel weird in big empty Catholic churches (maybe because I'm not baptised and the devil inside me is trying to jump out 😆), because they're just too quiet and weird in general - DV 💖

hi hello!!!

RM afraid of Barca?! Bestie... pls 😭 I don't think so, but they need to get their shit together for sure, invest in younger players, because Benzema won't be there forever. Their recent season was 👌🏻 let's keep it up. Lmao not the Sheikhs buying all the top football stars? And for what 💀 for more money obviously, but that's just ridiculous. Kaka let the devil on his shoulder win 👀

come on anon let’s be real here bestie we both know the truth 🤚🏻🤚🏻with none of their players batting an inch against the 18yo, almost reminded me of that one special 19yo boy with long hair 😮‍💨 afraid is just a small word 🤚🏻defeat is best served when barca does it <3 rm rarely wins by a lot when versing barca, while barca can do 5-0 and u know that’s true too, rm fans agree too 😭😭😭 main reason for a mid rm season is: ancelotti 🔫 he changed the positions and playing style a lot tbh

mancity took this to heart

and the match today! ronaldo punched, got a free penalty, did a siu on a friendly 😭😭 got tackled by ramos, neymar missed pen, and then ALL of them being subbed off 😭😭

im convinced messi’s some secret comedian bc ain’t no way this man is just losing his shit like this

You can try searching the basement, good luck, there are spiders in there! Maybe even snakes who knows 😉 /// I'm gonna watch one of those "I read Harry's book so you don't have to videos" to see what's going on there

WELL IM GONNA TAKE U WITH FOR THAT PART, YOU ARE OLDER AND IT IS UR DUTY ACTUALLY TO LOOK OVER THE YOUNGER ONES 🤨 RULES ARE RULES ACTUALLY 🤚🏻 id rec this one person partially bc her voice is so nice & from an eye of a brit 😭😭 & this one does a pretty good job at it!

Waiting for old Exo to come back, their last comeback was so-so, but hoping for the best! Can't believe Shinee and Exo will be coming back again <3 Shinee world tour... I think it's safe to say their world is very limited lmao. Okay but wtf was that GOT song, slightly better than Step Back cause the bar is in hell, but it felt so long and chaotic yet I felt like nothing happened 😭 and the MV? So unoriginal it's so sad, free these women! I haven't checked the mini yet, cause I don't feel motivated

how many days left till baekhyun 😭😭😭??? 15 DAYS 😭😭 15 DAYS 😭😭😭 THEY ARE COMING BACK OUR SAVIOURS BACK TO BACK !!!!! bro raised sm’s stock by 30% by breathing, he’s actually bigger than sm 🤚🏻the last cb, def on the lower end with their insane title track history, considering that we’re all used to do much, this one def was more of a bside material! (prob the only title track by then that i do not indulge in that much)

BUT U BEST BELIEVE IM DONT FIGHT THE FEELING SCREAMING WHEN IT COMES ON but the bsides i don’t think i listened THIS much to some bsides, they were funky dancy and really good!!,, BUT LAY 😭😭🤚🏻 SHINEE EXO TOUR IS COMING TO SAVE SM FROM ITS BANKRUPTCY !!! WE BETTER !!!!! GET !!!!! BUG BUDGET !!!!! watch shinee just do a sk, jpn tour 🔫🔫

YEAH SLIGHTLY BETTER THAN THE LAST ONE FOR SURE! the gugugugu part is catchy but also annoying, ur right it felt like nothing happened, no hype, no promo?? did not find the songs on the album that good! but a few of them are okay! mala is good! but it’s very,,, similar to the tittle itself, one of them almost felt like an extension to it actually

That manhwa might be nothing special, but it's pulling at my heart strings. They're both whipped I'm afraid lovesick boys... oh yes, pls do start reading it's a slow burn and the beginning is frustrating for a few reasons, but it's fun. Also I realised something about my boy Eunhyuk and it's devastating, I feel so bad for him 💔

ITS PULLING AT UR HEART STRINGS !!!!! anon ur whipped by this webtoon 😭😭 STOP THATS SO CUTE BUT THE BLACK HAIRED ONE 😭😭😭🤚🏻 his is a little too soft 🥰 i will begin to read it <3 TELL US GIVE US THE PAIN

That bathroom scene in HP, iconic dare I say, yes! I was shaking for real lmao //// Omg yes, young Jude had this Italian or French feel to him, a few British actors had that thing to them when they werw younger.

tbh the half blood prince movie set itself 🤚🏻 iconic as hell,,, snape dying 😭😭 RIGHT HE HAD THAT AURA, it was very old money vibes! quite a lot of british actors have that vibe, cillian is one of them.

With the way some fansites act I'd not trust them around Seonghwa I think we should be present as well to make sure they're not acting up. Seonghwa bodyguard team! And I can take pictures, I'm better than some of those glorified paparazzi

ur right, we are his assistant, pr and bodyguard team. 3 in 1 🤚🏻we monitor EVERYTHING and i think we have experience as we are avid followers of football and can catch bs on the field right away 🔫 catch us giving red cards to fansites

Usually coloured ink is a bit more invasive(?) let's say, it depends of course. Actually snake's skin is very soft, I was truly surprised. A few people who were always against snakes kinda changed their minds once they felt the skin, but obviously bigger snakes look very intimidating

AHHHHH-

u touched a snake.

STOPBTHAY VIDEOOSOOSOOKAJJSJSJHAHAHA Seonghwa's smile is so sweet, the way his whole face lits up and his eyes 😢

RIGHT 😭😭 his ENTIRE face just blooms when he smiles

and then he does this

The fact some stupid men and simp girls call Shakira crazy, I mean she's doing a lot lol, but he deserves it! Shakira Isabel Mebarak Holmes. Oh god I'd just move out tbh, but this is much funnier

NAHHHH I SEE COMMENTS LIKE “shakira this is not good, ur feelings should not be out”??? oh and he can??? bro played the song in front of his kid and roasted THEIR mother WHEN THAT MF CHEATED how low can u drop tbh I LOVE HER PLS THE PETTINESS IS ON PAR, THE GOVERNMENT NAME DBDB

the internet is so funny 😭😭😭 love how viral it is becoming <3 her and miley’s song

I'll re-read model ONE DAY okay... //// San was channeling his inner Loid Forger in that suit //// I have to be honest I only found out like a week ago what rizz means, I'm a boomer <3 /// Sugar baby Hwa? That's my material baby girl

ONE DAY. WHEN. 🔫

JEBWKDHSK BOOMER 😭😭😭 san’s a different breed, i do not know how i survive this man

anon.

This whole thread 🧎🏻‍♀️and truth //// I love him but this is fucked up, I won't tolerate this, I bet his alarm wakes everyone but him 💀

this man is so dramatic, i do not know how hongjoong tolerates him, im convinced they all throw hands at least once a month 🤚🏻 bc i def would, he’s asking for it too

MY ROCKSTAR BABY /// Did you see Jeonghan and Ten at YSL? And where the fuck is Seonghwa?! These stupid brands are useless!!!

GIRL I DID BRWKFHKWHDKW TEN IS MAD. THIS BRO IS SO INSANELY ATTRACTIVE!!!! WHERE IS SEONGHWA??? HE’S THE AMBASSADOR???? WHYS HE NOT THERE,, in the wake of everyone being a ambassador, i need him to be one too he is always representing them

but those photos dropped so im ok <3 a little <3 he looks so nice in the middle one!

Oh about Varanassi, it was years ago so I can't tell exactly, but I don't think so? I don't believe in spiritual things so I wouldn't really know sjhsuaajsjshbabshs I only feel weird in big empty Catholic churches (maybe because I'm not baptised and the devil inside me is trying to jump out 😆), because they're just too quiet and weird in general - DV 💖

LMFAOOOO 😭😭 ive always heard churches have this strange aura inside, kind of uptight and all,,, right! ive also heard that varanasi has this strange feeling to its environment bc it’s so heavily religious so i wondered if u had felt the same! FBWMFHWK MAYBE THE DEMON IS TRYING TO JUMP OUT 😭😭

two worlds colliding ayo

uh ,,, double uh

day 49 of me convincing u should come here, we unlock this very magical place in summer

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

[azuisreading]

Misdirection by J. M. Leigh

Madi Hayes has a lot of secrets. But one she can barely remember has haunted her nightmares for years and left her scarred inside and out. Now, she’s a Seattle SWAT Officer masquerading as a dispatcher for her overprotective family. She tries to make the best of an awkward family vacation, but when Madi finds herself in the middle of the action and old pains flare to life, she, and the mysterious definitely-not-tour-guides, find themselves locked in a struggle of truth and lies that leaves Madi’s life hanging in the balance. Theo Boudreaux is a former Army canine handler who joined Anderson Security when his dog, Elke, was injured and retired. Now he leads a team of special operators filling the gaps between the law and justice, with a little help from the Anderson’s government connections. But he’s getting restless, and a suspicious freckled blonde with green eyes that don’t miss a thing is exactly what Theo doesn’t need as his team faces their biggest case yet. As Alpha Team struggles to decide if Madi’s an innocent caught up in their case or the guilty party they’ve been looking for, Madi and Theo discover that a little trust can move even the iciest of mountains. It’s up to Theo and Alpha Team to uncover the secrets that lie buried beneath the snow.

Review

I’m giving this review because I was blessed enough to be part of J. M. Leigh’s awesome ARC Team; I enjoyed this book and I hope to be able to enjoy many more.

So… secret agents. And spies, uh? My cup of tea even when I know nothing about them and I don’t always understand what they’re doing or how they did what. But is that I just can’t stop! They’re so… interesting. And how things unfold! No one trusts each other and the lack of communication creates unnecessary issues! It drives someone a bit mad when we know they should be talking. But is even worse when the information they need is nowhere to be found, not even in the only person alive involved.

Have you heard about selective memory? How about repressed memory? I know very well the second one, but the trauma that our female protagonist suffered is indescribable, mostly because is nowhere too. It’s a thing of them, the secret agents and spies, their records aren’t easy to reach.

But what is easy is how fast you can love the male protagonist’s team! Maybe not all of them (because what would be the fun in having a whole team of approachable, reachable sex appeals?) but the vast majority… if you have my taste. If not, they’re still pretty diverse.

It doesn’t come without some content warnings… Just think about it, the background of those agents isn’t the prettier. But aside from the bad and the drama (that can be good, but is also bad), there are some spicy, some spy moments and reminiscences, very much some flirting, and a whole lot of action. The action just steps aside a little bit during the whole book, so…

If that’s your thing, why not give it a try? 😉

Phrases that I liked so much that I marked them while reading

«To the storytellers and the dream chasers. If you ever wanted to, you should.» — Dedication.

«and he’d go through hell and back before he let any one of us down.» — Chapter Two.

«Obviously she was one of those people who didn’t scream when they were scared, probably taunted by her older brother too much as a kid. That same thing happened to me, it turned out to be pretty useful later on. Tactically speaking.» — Chapter Four.

«But I loved my job. I loved my work at the Agency, too. The thought was sobering. I spent the rest of the day curled up in Teddy’s bed. I was grateful for the privacy of a door.» — Chapter Twenty-Two.

«“It’s too much of a coincidence. If I was reading this book, I’d roll my eyes.”» — Chapter Thirty.

#Misdirection #an Anderson security novel #J. M. Leigh #book review #review #reading #book blog #booklover