#[ and also HELLO i want to write today!! ]

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[hazelnootnut]

ED 13A - Hired Puppet It's all that you have ever wanted! Pray that you will never come to regret this decision.

(based on @youneedthisjob's current portrayal of protag that you should totally go interact/ send asks/ follow/ give love to because holy shit i've been going insane by fortune's characterisation of him. and protag's in a newly started arc akin to ED 13 so go send asks and get blasted with lore and pain)

((also also under the cut is a monochrome version without the pixel-esque overlay because he's too colourful. i want my grey tones.))

[lale-txt]

this is me btw

[bookdragonbeth]

Hello it has been a long while since ive been here but ive recently saw some (very old but new to me) comments on my six of crows fics and my heart is full and i feel like i want to write again

I dont really know if the soc fandom is super active after the cancellation :(( but ive found some of my rough ideas/half written wesper fics and wanted to maybe gauge what you guys might be interested in!

[legobiwan]

More nonsense.

~~~~~~

Ford fans out his cards, accordion-style, bringing them to rest just below the bridge of his nose, his eyes peeking out from over the top of the wide leaf he’s created. “Perhaps,” he mumbles from behind the improvised mask, “I’m trying to lull you into a false sense of security. After all, we are participating in one the most basic tenets found in game theory, a von Neumannian model in which there can only be one - ”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan groans, pulling a hand down his face, smudging his glasses in the process. He might as well spring the first part of his plan now, before his brother gets too wrapped up in Newport models or whatever the hell he’s going on about. Anything to get him to stop tracing that fucking triangle. “Ugh, too much nerd shit, blah, blah, blah. How about we can the math and make this a little more interesting?” 

Step one, set up and hang the bait. 

Ford tilts his head. “I’m listening.”

“Simple stuff," Stan shrugs. "You draw a card, you have to answer a question. You drop a card, no penalty.” Not the most elegant of Stan’s pitches in his long career, but he’s got one more kicker to sweeten the deal. “That sound game theory enough for you?”

Step two, spring the hook.

“This would add a rather compelling layer of Nash’s Equilibrium to our competition,” Ford says, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Assuming we both have a vested interest in avoiding or manipulating the interrogation variable to our own means. The mathematical models alone would be fascinating.”

“So how’s about it, Ford? Drop or draw?” Stan drawls with an affected nonchalance, plastering on his best Mr. Mystery smile.

Step three, let them reel themselves in.

His brother stiffens, righting himself into a perfect seated posture as he folds his hand into a neat stack. With a deliberate, exact motion, he reaches out to the messy pile of cards splayed over the center of the table.

“I will call your bluff and draw, Stanley,” he says, not bothering to look at the card as he places it on his stack with the others. “Now,” Ford reaches for a mug of coffee that’s gone cold hours ago, “what question would you like to ask of me?”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 01 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2697 | ao3 link

Eleanore (better known as Nore) was only 18 years old when she moved out of her house. She chose to live with her cousin, Cliff, in the same house where his band was staying - and got involved with all of them much more than she had ever expected to get involved with someone...

✦ warnings and tags: oc is cliff's cousin, +18, slice of life, drinking, smoking, fluff, cliff being cliff (overprotective older cousin), oc meets the metallica boys

✦ a/n: hello! i started posting this fanfiction on ao3 a while ago, but now i decided to post it directly here on tumblr too. the story is a bit long but there will be a lot of fluff, angst and smut along the way and also a lot of james and dave ♡ I will be posting one or two chapters daily until I catch up with the chapters posted on AO3, then I will start posting at the same frequency as I do there - every Wednesday and Sunday! Anyway, hope you enjoy ♡

I couldn't exactly say that I had plans for the beginning of 1983, but certainly moving out of my parents' house wasn't among them. Not that I had much of a choice, as I had been practically kicked out after the chaos that was my 18th birthday a few months earlier.

I was lucky to have my cousin Cliff's help. He had joined a new band a few months ago and had moved out of his parents' house to live with the guys in a house in downtown San Francisco. His offer to let me stay with them for a few months came at the right time, and I didn't hesitate to accept.

Maybe that hadn't been the best idea, as everything that could go wrong so far was happening — including me being late, missing the bus that would take me from Long Beach on a six-hour trip to San Francisco, having to buy another ticket for another bus that would leave only two hours later, and realizing only after boarding that I had forgotten my bag with half of my clothes and all — yes, absolutely all — of my underwear at my parents' house. Now, in addition to spending money on buying new clothes, I would have to wait for my parents to send me the bag by mail.

Great, I thought bitterly as I looked out the window of the moving bus.

I tried to distract myself by opening my sketchbook and doodling something, but I was too anxious to do anything. Cliff and I had practically grown up together, but since he moved to San Francisco with his family four years ago, our interactions had considerably decreased. Now, he had several new friends whom I didn't know, a girlfriend I had never even heard of, and he was even playing in a band. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to fit into his new life, and this kinda bothered me.

Despite the anxiety, I was exhausted, and I ended up dozing off for a while. It felt like I had only blinked when I woke up to the passenger next to me letting me know that we had arrived. I thanked the man and grabbed my luggage; when the bus stopped, I was one of the first people to get off.

San Francisco had the smell and sound of the sea; the sun was shining high in the cloudless blue sky. Despite the sun, it was still winter, and a cold wind cut through the platform. I looked around anxiously. Cliff had said he would be there, but I couldn't see him anywhere. That's when I felt someone touch my shoulder. When I turned, there he was, the old crumpled Misfits t-shirt, a cigarette in his hand, his long silky hair, and that beautiful smile on his face that I knew so well.

"Cliff!" I yelled and threw myself into his arms for a hug, laughing like I used to when I was little. He laughed and hugged me back.

"Hey, Nore. How was the trip?"

"It was horrible!" I complained, and he raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on his lips. "I forgot my bag, I was late and missed the bus. It was pure chaos; I didn't even think you would wait for me."

"Yeah, I noticed you were late. I've been waiting here for hours," he said with a tired sigh. I bit my lip, a guilty expression on my face, and he laughed. "It's okay. At least you made it. Let's go?"

He gently took the bag from my hand, and we walked through the terminal to the parking lot, where I saw his car. As I hopped in, he tossed my suitcase in the trunk and took a seat beside me in the driver's seat. I turned on the music, and a Misfits song blasted, extremely loud, just the way I knew Cliff loved it. I frowned and toned it down a bit.

"Oh my God, Cliff," I complained. "Aren't you scared of going deaf?"

"Hey, it's better to enjoy life while we're young," he grinned at me with that laid-back attitude that I knew all too well. I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but smile back. "And our hearing too, y'know."

He turned on the car, and I quickly strapped myself in. I knew Cliff's wild driving style; if seatbelts truly saved lives, I was putting my faith in that little piece of fabric. I gripped on tight as he zoomed through the city, weaving through traffic like a maniac. I lost count, but I swear he blew through at least three red lights on the way.

Fortunately, we safely arrived at the house where he was living. I got out of the car and stretched, feeling sore after hours of bus travel.

"Come on," he said. "I'll introduce you to the guys."

"Wait, what about my luggage?"

"I'll get it later. Is it okay if we share the room? It's the only place you can stay for now."

"No worries,"I said, as he took me by the hand and guided me into the house. He swung open the door, revealing a sparsely furnished living room with only a TV, a couple of couches, and a table surrounded by four chairs. A short guy was sitting on one of the sofas, speaking loudly while two others laughed at whatever he had just said. All three had beers in their hands, and a few empty bottles were scattered on the floor.

"Hey, guys," Cliff said. "This is Nore, my cousin. The one I told you would be staying here for a while."

They looked at us. The short dark-haired guy stood up with a smile.

"Hey," he greeted me. He had a different accent, definitely not American. "How's it going?"

"Nore, this is Lars. He's Danish, so you might find his smell a bit strange," Cliff said in a sarcastic tone, a smirk on his face.

"Shut up, dude." Lars grabbed a beer bottle and pointed at me. "Want one?"

"No, she doesn't," Cliff cut in. I looked at him, raising my eyebrows. "Hey, no more drinking problems for you, okay?"

"Oh, Cliff, shut up. You worry too much," I grumbled, which made the guys laugh.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you. Remember that your parents told me not to let you drink."

"Well, then you won't smoke your joints in front of me either," I said, reaching out to snatch the cigarette from his hand, but he held it up high. He knew I couldn't reach it, I was way shorter than him. He chuckled.

"These are Dave and James," he said, still holding his hand up. I lightly hit his back, pissed off, but he ignored me.

"Hi," the blond guy spoke in a low voice, seeming annoyed. He didn't even look directly into my eyes, quickly turning his attention back to the beer bottle in his hand. I felt my face heat up, wondering if he already hated me or something.

"Hi," I said softly. "Nice to meet you."

The other guy laughed. He had wavy strawberry blond hair and brown eyes. He was just a little shorter than Cliff – but still much taller than me.

"You upset the lady, James," he got up from the sofa and took my hand in his. "Don't mind him, he's just a bit shy. I'm Dave, you probably figured that out already."

"Hi, Dave," I smiled.

"So your name is Nore? That's kinda different."

"Oh, actually, it's Eleanore. But nobody really calls me that, I prefer Nore."

He grinned, pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket.

"It's a cool name," he lit a cigarette and gave me a wink. "If you feel like grabbing some drinks later..."

"Hey, lay off my cousin," Cliff frowned. "I've already told you she's not gonna drink, dammit."

"Cliff!" I complained. "Come on, you can't stop me from having a drink."

James snorted.

"You worry too much, man," he got up and handed me a beer bottle. "Here. You can have a drink if you want."

I took the bottle from his hand before Cliff could do anything and took a sip. He sighed and shrugged.

“Okay, it's your problem.”

"Hey, no need to be all parental on me," I said in a more understanding tone. "I can handle myself just fine, alright?"

“I won't bother lecturing you,” he grumbled. “But you better let your parents know that if I find you dead in a pool of vomit, it's all your fault, you hear me?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. He smiled, making me realize that he was just joking.

"Don't worry, I won't tell your parents about this either," I pointed to the cigarette in his hand. He huffed.

"You know they already know about it, right?" I scowled and he laughed. "Come on, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

"She could crash in my room," Dave grinned. "Plenty of room there."

"And you better cut out the flirty business with my cousin." Cliff's voice turned serious as he pulled me closer, gripping my shoulders in a protective way.

Dave laughed and left the room, not without smiling at me. My cheeks flushed, but I smiled back.

"I'll grab my bag," I said to Cliff. Taking another swig from the bottle, I handed it over to James with a grateful smile. "Thanks."

He shrugged, but flashed me a small smile in return.

Cliff walked me to the car and opened the trunk so I could get my luggage. I followed him to his room, which was a cozy little space on the ground floor. It had a bed, a closet, a desk, and his bass guitar hanging on the wall. I dropped my suitcase in a corner by the desk and cracked it open to grab some money. I still had to go to a store, see if I could find some clothes. He pulled out a mattress from behind the wardrobe.

"This is your new bed," He said. "At least until I can bring that bunk bed my parents are lending me." 

"You could be a knight in shining armor and let me sleep in yours." I grumbled, looking at the thinness of the mattress.

"No fucking way."

"I could end up with a serious back problem for sleeping on this, you know."

"Don't give me that. You won't convince me."

"I bet Dave would let me sleep in his bed."

"And take the opportunity to sleep with you."

"Oh, come on, Cliff," I laughed, feeling my face turning red. "He was joking."

"Yeah, right," he replied acidly. I shook my head in doubt. I found the money in my suitcase, picked it up, and stood up to leave. "Where are you going?"

"I need to buy some things. I'll be right back."

"I'll take you."

"No need, I saw there are plenty of shops nearby. I'll manage."

He shrugged, lighting a cigarette as he sat on the bed and opened a magazine. I left the house and found James outside, sitting by the porch, finishing his beer.

"Hi." I said.

"Hey. You heading out?" he asked in a low voice. At least now he didn't ignore me, I thought.

"Yeah. I still need to buy some things today."

"You know where to go?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I was thinking of just taking a walk around. Didn't want to bother Cliff any more than I already have," I admitted. He stared at me, seeming to think for a moment, then stood up.

"Hang on. I'll come with you."

"You sure?" I asked, surprised. He nodded.

"Yeah, I need... to stock up on more beer. Just wait here, I'll get my money."

I nodded and waited as he entered the house. He returned soon, wearing a worn leather jacket and holding some crumpled dollars in his hand, which he stuffed into his pocket.

"There's a supermarket down the street. Let's go?"

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

We walked the whole way in silence. I couldn't help but think about what Dave had said about James being a bit shy. Despite that, he had been nice enough to offer to come along with me. As we walked, I glanced at him. Taking a closer look, I noticed that his eyes were just like mine, blue in color. He had a serious look on his face, lost in his own thoughts. Usually, I would start a conversation in a situation like this, but I was feeling a bit shy myself.

We soon arrived at the supermarket. I was taken aback because the place was bigger than I had expected.

"Hey, do they sell clothes here?" I asked. It would be super convenient if I could find some clothes without having to go elsewhere after buying the beers.

"Yes, they do," he answered, then looked at me. "Are you here to buy clothes?"

"Oh," I blushed. "I... sort of forgot my bag at my parents' house, so..."

He chuckled. "You're just like Cliff. He's an airhead too."

"Hey!" I complained. "I was tired, okay?"

He smiled as we entered the store. I grabbed a shopping basket, and he pointed to an aisle.

"The clothes are over there. Need some company?"

"Nah, I got this. Meet you back here?"

"Sure."

I walked to the clothing section, which was somewhat limited. Most of the stuff looked kinda ugly, but luckily, I managed to find some decent underwear and bras. I snagged a few items in my size and tossed them in the basket.

I was heading back to the entrance to meet James when I spotted him near the beverage shelves, looking frustrated. I walked up to him.

"Hi," he grumbled. "I'm trying to decide which one to take... Our favorite is sold out, and I'm clueless about these cheaper options."

I looked at the shelf, then picked up a bottle from a well-known brand that wasn't too expensive.

"I like this one. We can split the cost if you want."

He smiled a little, grabbing a case of the brand I had suggested.

"I'll roll with your choice," he tossed the case in the basket, and I made a face at the weight. "Oops, my bad," he effortlessly took the basket from my hand as if it weighed almost nothing.

"Thank you," I said, and he smiled.

"Did you get everything you needed?" he asked, and I nodded. "Alright, let's go then."

We went to the cashier and cashed out. James insisted on paying for all the beers. I realized that, beneath the initial shyness, he was actually a pretty cool guy. He stopped by the store entrance to open two bottles of beer and offered me one. We walked back home as the sun was setting, James sipping his beer and humming softly. I recognized the sound — the guitar riff from Paranoid, by Black Sabbath. The day was quickly coming to an end, and I could feel the exhaustion creeping in.

"It's really good," he suddenly said as we waited to cross a street, and I looked at him, puzzled. "The beer," he explained.

"Told you so," I grinned.

"Guess you wouldn't want me to tell Cliff about you drinking."

I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Cliff worries too much. But I think he'll soon give up on nagging me."

"I'm rooting for you," he said in a playful tone. I let out a soft chuckle.

Soon enough, we reached the house. I said goodbye to James and made my way to Cliff's room, which was now also mine, ready to grab my things and take a shower. Packing away my new clothes in my bag, I found myself humming the same tune as James. Despite the fatigue and the overload of new information, my anxiety had melted away. I didn't know what the next few days would bring, but it excited me. The guys seemed cool, and it was good to be closer to Cliff again. I didn't have a clue where this new life would lead me, but I was ready to embrace whatever came, whenever it came.

[hl-obsessed]

Not ready for a war, i saw that i was lost

Febuwhump | ao3 | 1/29 | 434 words

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne

Pain is all he can remember, all he can feel. And he can't– he can't take it anymore.

He knows he doesn't deserve mercy, not in this life, not after all he's done – but he begs for it anyway.

It's a story in pieces. Loosely kinda Divergent AU.

written with @febuwhump prompts

[whoviandoodler]

[Image description: a digital drawing of Thomas and Varian from Transatlantic in sepia tones. Thomas is sitting on a sofa smoking, one leg bent and resting on the couch. In his right hand he has an open book and in his left he's holding Varian's glasses. He seems to have just looked up from his book at a new arrival. Varian is lying on the couch, his head on Thomas's thigh, and sleeping while covered by a cardigan. End description.]

that awkward moment when you boyfriend said he'd just lie down for a second and totally wouldn't fall asleep (he has so much work to do, he can't take naps), but now he's been sleeping for an hour and your leg is cramping so badly but you don't have the heart to wake him because he's been exhausted for weeks

[mcmorare]

staring at all the replies i have from this past week with both fear and excitement rubbing my little hands together

[orcelito]

posted chapter 4 of Sentido

now with the tag of "Plants Shenanigans". i think im very funny for that

[immortalsins]

actually going to fail my course this time fr

[cloudpools]

Nara One-Shot Drabble (Are they even called drabbles anymore? LOL)

How did she get into this mess? The video conference the week before had gone incredibly. She was sure she had this client in the bag. Surely he'd sign, she'd get the biggest deal in her company's history, and it would lead her down the road to becoming the company's next CEO. She'd finally be able to face her father head on. Surpass him and become more than he'd ever raised her to be.

Nara looks around the room. Dimmed lights. Fireplace roaring. A glass of wine in her hands. The evening had started strangely. What she'd thought to be a business gathering turned out to be a candle lit dinner for two? Okay. That was fine. Sometimes her business outings could be one on one, but she was sure he'd promised to bring other heads of his company out with him. Not just sure. Positive. As positive as the notes she's taken on her laptop in preparation of this event. And although it was her trying to win him as a client, he paid??

Okay. Everything about this night was unconventional.

Of course Nara had done extensive research on this client. She had even meticulously planned the evening, down to exactly what she'd say, but it was clear this man had other plans. Though, for now, she had assumed them innocent. Dinner. Wine. And he had said there was one more special event. She wasn't sure what that meant, until he'd put the key into the lock of his penthouse and led her inside. More candles. More wine. More confusion.

But she was committed. This was the key to her ideal future, after all. There was a lot she was willing to put up with to make that happen.

Famous last words.

The business man returns from a room that she can only assume was his master bedroom and/or bath. He'd said he was going to change into something more comfortable... Nara assumed that meant maybe a polo? Jeans? He's wearing a robe. He'd been fully dressed to the nines this evening. Tie. Pocket square. Cologne. The works.

And of course she was dressed to match. Heels, skirt, blazer. A perfect manicure and makeup to match. And of course, that signature ponytail.

He's so close now, finger tips twirling a strand of said ponytail as he leans in. "Nara," his voice is smooth and sultry. Her face is flaring red, sapphire eyes darting around the room for- an escape? But she wanted to seal this deal? Right?! "Do you feel that?" Nope. No. No no.

"F- feel what?"

"Our spark." Its horribly cheesy. But cheesy is all Nara knows. She's never been in any sort of relationship before, and the closest she's ever been is cramming ice cream into her mouth while binging romcoms on her day off. There's a part of her that feels like she should fall into the role of the heroine. A woman looking for love. But this wasn't one of her movies. And she was not ready for this after only meeting this man in person this evening.

Her body reacts before she can stop herself, hands slamming into his chest, spilling her wine all over him in the process. The deal is off, and Nara is off the couch in a second, awkwardly backing toward the door as he begins to disrobe.... revealing.... bare chest underneath. She shields her eyes. This is too much. It's all too much. "EXCUSE ME. IT'S LATE AND-" She practically squeaks as she rushes for the door.

He's faster, hand pressing the door closed, his chest pressed against her back as he whispers in her ear, "You're right. It's late. Why don't you stay the ni-"

Nara isn't a violent person. Honestly? She wouldn't even hurt a fly. But here, trapped in a corner (or between a door and a hard place in this scenario), her brain switches from flight to fight.

She whirls on him, slamming her fist into his cheek. It isn't that hard of a hit. She's an inexperienced fighter after all, but it gives her the just enough time to pry the door open as he stands there stunned.

Of course, you'd think that that would have given him the hint that she wasn't interested. Any man in his right mind would have left her alone after that brutal rejection. Yet the next morning Nara was bombarded with emails, and instant messages. Some apologetic. Some desperate. Some EXTREMELY INNAPROPRIATE.

How did she get into this mess?

[vividxpages]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ "in the dead of night"･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧*

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 7000

summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.

warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending

a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.

Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.

Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.

This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.

You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”

The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.

Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.

You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”

“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”

Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…

“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”

“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.

For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.

“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”

You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.

“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.

A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.

Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”

You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”

“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”

Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.

You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..

“Alright, where were we, my princes?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.

You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.

The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.

You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.

You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.

The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.

But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.

Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.

They were on you in a heartbeat.

One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.

You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.

“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”

You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.

“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.

They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”

You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.

“Behave.”

You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“

They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.

A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.

Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.

You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”

The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.

“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”

You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.

In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.

You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…

“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”

Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.

“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”

Vermax.

A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”

They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.

“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”

Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?

The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.

“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.

“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”

You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.

„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.

Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.

“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.

With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.

“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”

You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.

He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.

You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.

Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.

“DO IT!”

Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.

“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.

Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.

A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“

Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.

Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.

You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.

Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.

Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.

In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.

Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.

Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.

The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.

Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.

Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.

As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.

But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.

He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.

“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”

The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.

Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.

The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.

“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.

Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.

Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.

Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.

“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“

“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”

“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.

“And no one says so, dear.”

Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.

You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.

“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”

He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.

She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”

Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.

Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.

When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“

“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.

Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.

“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”

You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”

“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”

You did not want to be alone.

You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.

You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.

You needed Jacaerys.

“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.

Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”

She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.

You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.

For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.

“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”

He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”

Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“

You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“

“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”

“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”

“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.

His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”

The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.

“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”

You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”

Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”

He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.

He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”

Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right next to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt self-conscious under his attentive eyes.

You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.

“Good?”

“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.

Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.

You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.

“Too hard?”

You shook your head. “My lip…”

He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.

You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.

Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.

Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.

“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”

“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”

“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”

“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”

His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.

Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.

He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.

“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”

You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.

“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.

Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”

You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”

“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”

“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.

“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.

He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.

At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.

He’d take his revenge for you.

But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 

He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Helping Husband Nanami! Unwind

Author's Note: This scrumptious gem graced my timeline today, and I couldn't resist writing a fic about it. Do yourself a favor and follow the artist on Twitter, and while you're at it, check out her Patreon—it's totally worth it! (Artist & Her Patreon)

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, handjob (m! receiving), oral (m! receiving), pet names, role-play (prostitution), public sex

word count: 2k

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Nanami was the epitome of dedication, tirelessly clocking in countless hours at the office to ensure his sweet wife lived in the lap of luxury. He was a gentleman in every sense. Yet, sometimes, this relentless work ethic could be his Achilles' heel.

Stress was making its unwelcome presence known in Nanami, with shadows deepening under his honey-gold eyes and the weight of the world pressing down on his broad shoulders. He was beat. After surviving yet another grueling twelve-hour shift, he was at his limit. All he craved was to return home to you, his loving wife.

And as his loving wife, you couldn't miss the signs. You saw how he would collapse into bed like stone after a long day, too exhausted to even finish his dinner. You heard the frustrated groans as he dragged himself out of bed each morning. But most importantly, you felt the strain in your bedroom.

Not to say Nanami wasn't satisfying you—quite the opposite, he was only satisfying you.

Despite his exhaustion, his touch was tender yet fervent, his kisses a mix of urgency and devotion. He'd make sure to lap at your cunt each night, with his talented tongue. Letting you know just how much he loved you, how he put your needs above his own. But that was exactly it—what about him? It worried you to no end; all you wanted to do was make sure your husband was happy. Seeing him give so much of himself, you felt a uncomfortable combination of gratitude and concern. You wanted to reciprocate, to show him the same level of care and passion. You longed to ease his burdens, to be his sanctuary just as he was yours. The thought of him carrying all that weight alone tugged at your heart, and you resolved to find a way to bring balance, to ensure he was taken care of as well.

Which was exactly why you weren't at home, playing the doting wife as always, but leaning up against his car hood, dressed in something completely out of character for you.

Fishnets, Daisy Duke shorts, and a tank top that hugged every curve clung to your body, making you a walking temptation. You watched your husband approach the car through glittery, half-lidded eyes. Letting out an exaggerated whistle, you purred, "Well, hello handsome," catching your husband's eyes.

He was just a few steps away, his furrowed brows and confused smile giving away his exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, and his button-up shirt was slightly wrinkled. It had clearly been another long day for him, and you were ready to melt away all that stress. But you couldn't do it as his wife; no, you needed to become someone else entirely. You had to offer him an escape from reality.

"What're you doing here, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice gruff and drawn out. His hair was still neatly groomed, and oh, you wanted to make a mess of that. Make a mess of him. "Also, I'm not one to tell you what to wear, but this is different." His eyes roamed your body, lingering over your breasts to the tips of your black heels. He was right, this was different.

"Mmhm, you like?" You bite down on your glossy, plump bottom lip. Nanami swallowed hard.

"Just a girl trying to make some money tonight," you continue, against the hood of his car. Your elbows prop you up, pushing out your breasts that were practically spilling out. "Ah, I see," he murmured. His eyes, though shadowed with exhaustion, now swam with an almost predatory hunger that swirled in the depths of his amber gaze.

You giggled at the fact that your husband was playing along with your little game, as he always did. Though tonight wasn't for you; no, it was all for him. Placing your delicate palm against Nanami's sculpted chest, he shivered for a moment. That was new.

"So, Mister, would you like to help a girl out and make use of my services?" Your voice was hot and breathy as you slowly undid the first button of his dress shirt. Nanami's eyes tracked the movement of your perfectly manicured fingers, lingering on the way they teased each button. A surprising rose-tint spread across his cheeks, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a vulnerable flush. You could get drunk off of him.

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't help a pretty girl like you out?" Nanami chuckled, a bit sheepish, as he fumbled with the car keys, finally managing to unlock the doors. Seeing such a strong, composed man acting so coy made your thighs clench. This outfit and role were really doing it for him, huh?

After hearing the car beep, you quickly pulled both yourself and your husband inside, sliding into the backseat. It was a tight fit, with Nanami's broad frame hovering over you, his arms and legs straddling your body. The closeness made you acutely aware of just how much bigger he was than you. Instinctively, his mouth found your neck, immediately shifting into husband mode. But tonight, you wouldn't let him neglect his own needs just to please you.

"Stop," you groan, fighting the urge to let Nanami do what he normally does. He immediately pulls away, his eyes filled with worry. He searches yours for answers but only finds eyes brimming with lust. "No touching, you're paying for my services, remember?" you giggle, pressing against his chest to flip him over. Now, you were on top, straddling his lap. His heavy cock pressed against you, straining against the confines of his trousers, yearning to be free. The two of you were panting, the heat between you making the car windows fog up. You were lucky the parking garage was deserted at this hour.

"I, uh, sweetheart…" he stammered, struggling to find the words as you mirrored his earlier actions. Your mouth traced a path from his neck down to the exposed part of his collarbone, licking and sucking gently. Lips parted and teeth against skin. You couldn't help but think, God, you needed to do this more often.

His hips jerked against yours, causing the both of you to throb with want. The fabric of your shorts was already damp, barely able to contain the heat building between you. Your hands roamed down his muscular frame, your fingers tease as they reached the zipper of his trousers. You fumbled with it, the anticipation making your breath hitch. His low groan in your ear sent shivers down your spine, and you pressed closer, feeling the urgency of his need matching your own.

"Please let me touch you, just a little," he pleaded, his grip tightening on the leather seat, veins on his arms standing out. The desperation in his voice sent a thrill through you. You had made Nanami Kento, usually so proper, whine like a slut. You leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his, reveling in the power you held in that moment.

"Here, you can get a kiss, but it'll cost you extra," you laugh, pressing your open mouth to his. The kiss was sloppy, tongues intertwining with a fervor that made your head spin. His mouth was hot, and he tasted delectable—an unexpected blend of mint and cinnamon. You were melting into him. "Nghhh, sweet girl, let me touch you..." Nanami's voice was trembling, his restraint barely holding on. This was absolute torture for him; he wasn't used to being the one pampered.

"No," Your fingers hooked onto the belt loops of his khaki trousers, slowly tugging them down to reveal his throbbing cock, leaking precum. A frustrated moan caught in his throat as he waited for you to do something, anything.

His cock was pretty, more so than usual tonight. It was a darker shade of pink, thick and pulsing, with veins prominently visible at the base, likely from all the accumulated stress. Nanami hadn't cum in the past two weeks, so naturally, he was this pent up. His cock was so tempting, begging for attention.

As you wrapped your glossy lips around the tip, Nanami's hips jerked involuntarily, aching for more. The desire to thrust into the back of your throat and make a mess of your slutty makeup consumed him, but Nanami, being the gentleman he was, forced himself still. After all, he wouldn't want to harm his lovely wife, right?

But that's not what you wanted. You wanted Nanami to take out all his anger, all his stress, all his bad days on you. To defile you in a way he would a slut. That's who you were tonight, right? No longer his wife, but the whore he needed.

"Don't hold back, use me," you groaned against his cock, your mouth still wrapped sweetly around it. Drool dribbled down as you pleaded for him to let go. Getting Nanami to be rough was like asking to be struck by lightning—rare, but when it happened, it was electrifyingly intense.

"Such a dirty girl," without hesitation, Nanami began to buck his hips, driving his cock deep into your throat. Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the base of his needy cock. He was so thick, making it a struggle not to gag. "Such a good whore for me," Tears welled up in your eyes, and your cheeks hollowed as you fought to keep up with his relentless pace.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" He kept repeating, babbling at this point as he used your mouth. He was drunk on pleasure, feeling the plush, wet insides of your mouth and the back of your throat. The sensation was overpowering for him, and you could see it in the way his body shuddered and groans flying from his mouth. It felt so good watching him writhe in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands gripped your hair tighter, guiding you as he continued to lose himself in you. The sight of him so vulnerable only fueled your urge to push him further into this blissful state.

You began to hum as he thrust into you, the vibrations around his length driving him insane. He let out the most beautiful grunt, a sound that sent jolts straight to your dripping cunt. You could tell he was close; his movements were becoming erratic and more forceful, causing you to gag and choke each time he hit the back of your throat. Perfect. He needed this release, and so did you. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and now you were desperate to taste him, to feel that connection you had been craving.

"Sweetheart, I can't," he breathed out, his legs stiffening and back arching slightly, plunging him deeper into your throat. His tip was bruising your throat by now, but you didn't care. You needed to see your husband come undone. Using a free hand to grip the base of his length, you began to pump up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. You were going to send him into a spiral, make him regret not being more selfish these last two weeks, make him wish he'd never taken that overtime at the stupid office.

"Gonna come," he winced, the words dragging out as his handsome face contorted in pleasure. Nanami's grip tightened on the back of your head, thrusting his length into your throat with desperation. You could definitely feel the bruises forming, but the feeling only heightened the moment. His hot, salty cum erupted into your throat, filling your mouth and leaving you with barely any time to savor its taste. The sheer force of his release made your eyes water and throat flex, but you reveled in the raw, filthiness. As he pulled back, you licked your lips, catching the last remnants of him, a satisfied smirk playing on your face.

His mouth agape, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely spent as he was panting to catch his breath. You completely wrecked him. "God, you're...incredible," he managed to say between shallow breaths, still reeling from his orgasm. The sight of him so messy only made you want to see him like this again and again. You could see the way his muscled chest heaved, each rise and fall a testament to the pleasure you had just given him. His hands, which had been gripping you with such fervor, now lay limp at his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if still remembering the feel of you.

As he slowly regained his composure, a lazy smile spread across his face. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

"Now, how much extra for another kiss?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"It's on the house,"

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

No One Should Be Alone On Christmas

❅ summary: Ever since moving to Tokyo for work a month ago, you’d been drowning in loneliness. You hadn’t fully adjusted to the people or the city yet, and worse, you were about to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning all alone. At least, that’s what you thought. In an attempt to forget your loneliness, you went to a bar, where you met the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Other than the fact that he, too, was spending Christmas alone and that he was devastatingly attractive, you knew absolutely nothing about him. If Christmas miracles were real, maybe you could spend this night—and the morning—in Nanami Kento’s arms.

❅ pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader

❅ word count: 6.1k

❅ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 modern au!, reader and nanami are strangers, one-night stand (?), nanami in a turtleneck sweater because why not??, use of alcohol, christmas market date, big mac and cinnamon rolls (yeah i was hungry while writing), use of pet names, mentioning of loneliness, kissing, neck kissing, nipple play, fingering, slow sex that turns rough, mating press, protected sex, mentioning unprotected sex, dominant nanami, also thoughtful nanami (yey)

❅ a little note: hello everyone with my new christmas-themed story! i was supposed to post it last sunday, but since i just got back from a trip and was very tired, i could only post it today. i think it’s a sweet yet spicy one-shot. enjoy!

“And that was the ridiculous mugging incident I experienced during my first week in Tokyo,” you chuckled to yourself, the effects of alcohol making everything seem funnier. You finished the last sip of beer left in your glass in one go.

You were drunk. Seriously drunk.

Maybe getting some McDonald’s would help. At least it might clear your head, because right now, loneliness and unhappiness were clouding your ability to make rational decisions.

Spending Christmas Eve alone at a bar, drinking beer, and recounting your Tokyo adventures to a bartender who clearly didn’t care wasn’t part of your plans. Christmas had always been a warm and happy time you spent with your loved ones. But now, all you could feel was dizziness and a coldness you couldn’t explain.

You glanced at the time on your phone lying next to the empty beer glass. It was 8 PM. If you were lucky, maybe you’d find an open McDonald’s.

That is, if you could even manage to get up in your current state.

“Hey, uhmm… is there a McDonald’s nearby?” you slurred, somehow managing to form a coherent sentence as you directed your question to the bartender, who had been your reluctant companion for the past hour.

The bartender handed the cocktail glass he’d prepared to a server before turning to you with little enthusiasm. “I doubt it.”

“That’s ridiculous! McDonald’s is everywhere,” you retorted, anger bubbling up from your hunger.

The bartender seemed amused by your drunken indignation, letting out a low chuckle. “Maybe Tokyo, the city of your dreams, doesn’t have one after all.”

“Wait did you actually listen to me?” you asked, frowning at him because every sentence you told him was about how much you love and wanted to come to Tokyo.

“I got bored while making drinks and found listening to the silly stories of someone spending Christmas Eve alone kind of entertaining, I guess.”

“You’re rude,” you muttered, resting your head in your hands.

“And you’re lonely.”

“Alright, enough humiliation! Sure, I’m spending Christmas Eve alone, but you’re here making drinks and listening to a drunk woman ramble on. Ha! Got you! You’re just as lonely as I am.” Triumphant, you raised your head, only to lose your balance and tip backward. You were absolutely sure you were about to hit the floor, but instead, your back collided with something hard.

Maybe it was the backrest of the barstool?

Relieved, you exhaled deeply and turned around with a grin. “Well, if it weren’t for this backr—” Your words cut off mid-sentence because the thing that stopped your fall wasn’t the nonexistent backrest of the stool but a tall, broad figure dressed in black.

And it had blond hair. A truly stunning shade of blond.

The man in black was staring at you with a completely blank expression. It was almost as if he pitied you, but his face gave nothing away.

He shifted his gaze from your face and handed a card to the bartender. “I drank my usual,” he said.

The bartender took the card with a serious nod. “Yes, sir.” He clearly knew who this man was.

By now, you’d stopped leaning against the solid figure that had kept you from falling. Sitting upright on the stool, you realized you desperately needed to eat something and sober up. You reached into your bag to grab your card to pay.

But just as you were about to hand it to the bartender, the velvety voice of the man who had caught you made you turn your head.

“Please add the lady’s drinks to my tab,” he said.

The bartender glanced at the man and then at you, surprised, but didn’t protest as he added your drinks to the total. You stared at the man, trying to process what had just happened.

The blond-haired man was still watching you, his expression unchanging. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he pitied you again. After all, you were a woman spending Christmas Eve alone in a bar, drunk, and nearly cracking your head open on the marble floor. With all that combined, it was probably easy to see you as a pathetic, lonely soul in need of help.

The slight burning sensation in your eyes made it clear that tears were threatening to spill. And they did, quietly running down your cheeks. You didn’t even know why you felt so terrible. Spending Christmas Eve alone wasn’t that bad. You weren’t the only one doing it. Even the bartender, who you thought hadn’t been listening to you, probably was. And the other people quietly nursing their drinks in the bar were in the same boat.

And maybe even the blond-haired man who had stopped you from falling.

But right now, all you wanted was to build snowmen with your family, a tradition you’d done every Christmas Eve.

Screw it. Who wanted to be alone on Christmas?

Grabbing your coat and bag from the stool beside you, you muttered, “I’m sorry,” to the man before stumbling toward the door. The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, making you scrunch your nose. It helped clear your head a little. You were about to pull out your phone to find the nearest McDonald’s when you realized it wasn’t in your bag.

Perfect. Your dramatic exit was now a complete failure.

Quickly wiping the tears from your face, you were about to turn back toward the bar when the door opened, and the blond-haired man emerged, looking concerned. His expression softened when he saw you. You, on the other hand, were standing there with mascara likely smeared all over your face.

He approached you quickly. “Excuse me, you forgot your phone,” he said, handing it to you.

You sniffled, your cold nose stinging, and looked at him gratefully through tear-filled eyes. “Thank you so much. I—I… Oh, God…” And just like that, you broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably.

The scene was so humiliating you wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. A stranger had saved you from falling, paid your tab, brought you your phone, and now had to watch you cry like a child because of your stupid Christmas loneliness.

And here you were, crying again.

Covering your face with your hands, you tried to hide from him. All you wanted was to find that damn McDonald’s, eat until you were stuffed, and go back to your tiny but beloved one-bedroom apartment to bake cinnamon rolls.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you okay, miss? If you’re feeling unwell, I could take you home. Or, if you prefer, I can call a cab,” his soft voice said, breaking through your sobs.

You lowered your hands to look at him, sniffling a few more times. The blond man had a slight accent. His Japanese was fluent, but the words carried a subtle difference in tone. It was strangely captivating. And it wasn’t just his voice that was impressive—his face and build made him almost ridiculously perfect. You’d noticed his face briefly in the bar, but now you could fully appreciate it.

And yet, how could anyone be this nice? Of course you shouldn’t trust him immediately. For all you knew, he could be one of Tokyo’s most wanted criminals. With his black turtleneck, matching coat, and slacks, he had a slight “mob boss” vibe. The glasses softened his sharp features a bit, but actually, no—they made him look even more severe. Still, his previously stoic expression had faded. Now, there was a mix of concern and pity on his face.

You didn’t want his pity. No one wanted to be pitied. But maybe, just maybe, you could use it to feel a little better.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you sniffled again and said, “I’m just… really hungry.”

The blond man responded to your honest statement with a smile, which only made things worse. How could he be even more handsome now?

“Alright, I know a good place. Would you like me to take you there? Don’t worry, I'll just take you there,” he said, his voice as gentle as ever.

Accepting his offer didn’t seem like a bad idea. If you ate something, you’d sober up and fill your empty stomach. The only problem was that you didn’t want to do it alone. Sure, this guy might be Tokyo’s top serial killer, but even killers didn’t commit crimes on Christmas Eve, right?

“Do you like McDonald’s?” you asked, though you doubted it. Looking at his impeccable physique, he probably only ate the healthiest foods imaginable. But you’d already made your offer.

The blond man’s smile widened, and his answer made your heart skip a beat. “I’m sure there’s one nearby.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“You’re really hungry.”

Your eyes drifted to the blond-haired man as you bit into your second Big Mac. You were absolutely delighted. You’d managed to find a McDonald’s just a ten-minute walk away (take that, bartender!) and had ordered two Big Macs, two large fries, and an iced tea. The man across from you hadn’t ordered anything. No matter how much you insisted, he said he wasn’t hungry. When he tried to pay for your meal, you’d grabbed yhis wrist and said, “Unless you want me to throw up on you, put your card away.”

He was bigger than you and would probably win if it came to a fight, but you could handle paying for your own food. Sure, it was nice of him to be so polite, but this was a bit much.

“Yooh. I loveee Bog Moc,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, trying to speak as best as you could. It was definitely not respectful, but you’d already cried enough and embarrassed yourself in front of this guy.

The blond-haired man laughed at your attempt to speak. “I’m glad. I hope I’m not bothering you?” he asked casually, folding his arms across his chest.

You swallowed your bite and wiped your mouth with a napkin. “Not at all! If I felt uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have invited you.” You took a sip of your iced tea. “Though, I did wonder if you were a serial killer on the most-wanted list.”

You must’ve genuinely amused him because he threw his head back and laughed. That deep, masculine sound was more beautiful than any song you’d ever heard. This man did everything with elegance.

Unlike you.

He unfolded his arms and rested them on the table. The sleeves of his sweater pushed up slightly, giving you a brief but glorious view of his veiny forearms.

Now you were even hungrier. And this wasn’t a hunger another Big Mac could satisfy. You needed those arms. You needed to taste how strong they were. If you were lucky, maybe you’d get to feel the pleasure of his fingers inside your vagina.

In your wet and swollen vagina.

“Who knows, maybe I am. But if I were, why would you invite me to come along?”

“I thought about it and decided no killer would be boring enough to commit murder on Christmas Eve.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “You’re right. At this moment, I’d rather watch a crying woman devour hamburgers than deal with bloody, tedious business.”

You paused mid-sip of your drink, your face falling at his words.

He must’ve noticed because he immediately looked concerned. “Shit. I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh… As you can see, I’m not great at that.”

But he had made you laugh. The fact that he thought he’d upset you was actually funny. “Do you want to know why I was crying?”

“If it won’t upset you, then yes.” As he spoke, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. That small gesture was enough to make your heart race at 500 beats per second. It was a suspiciously intimate act for someone you’d only known for an hour, but you didn’t think he was trying to seduce you.

“I moved to Tokyo a month ago for a job offer. While moving to the city of your dreams is exciting, there are so many things I miss. I might have a great job, and small apartment which I love but being away from my family and friends is so hard. I know it might sound silly, but I miss them. And this is the time of year I want to be with them the most. Instead, I’m sitting here with a sexy man who still hasn’t told me whether or not he’s a serial killer.” You realized you’d said the word “sexy” only after finishing your sentence, and to cover up the embarrassment of your slip-up, you quickly stuffed a fry in your mouth.

“While I appreciate you saying I’m not bothering you, the fact that you said I’m a sexy stranger who could be a serial killer is truly…” He paused, searching for the right word. “…honorable.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not bad company. I just miss them. Right now, I’d probably be having a snowman-making contest with them and baking cinnamon rolls afterward. My dad is the best at that. He owns a little bakery in my hometown. I try to beat him every year, but I think some things just come down to talent.” As the memories flooded your mind, you shook your head and took a big sip of your drink.

“That sounds wonderful,” he said, looking like he wanted to say more. After a moment, he added, “I’m Japanese, but my maternal grandfather is Danish. I grew up and studied there. Like you, I moved to Japan last month for work.”

“Wow, we really have the same story. What company do you work for?”

“Nanami Structures.”

Your eyes widened at the name. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”

“Yes… Why?”

“The advertising agency I work for is doing their new campaign! We even have a meeting with the owner after New Year’s. Of course, I’ll just be there to take notes. Everything was already planned before I joined them.”

“Then this must be a nice coincidence.”

“Definitely! So, what do you do there?”

The blond man hesitated for a few seconds before answering. “I’m an architect.”

“Cool.”

“Thank you. Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I go through the same struggles as you. I’ve always worked away from my family and only get to see them once a year at best. Still, I make sure to call them every Christmas morning, and they always show me our dog Takuma in his latest Christmas costume.”

“That’s adorable. There’s nothing cuter than dogs in costumes! Especially if they’re dressed as elves.”

“That was last year. My guess for this year is a reindeer costume.”

“If you keep talking, my heart is going to burst from how cute this is.” The two of you laughed, and you realized how much better you felt talking to this stranger. As you finished your fries, it hit you that while you now knew the name of his dog, he still hadn’t told you his own name.

Excitedly, you asked, “Okay, you might be on a most-wanted list, but can you at least tell me your name? Don't worry! I won't tell anyone. I’m just tired of calling you the man with the nice arms and the limp.”

“You think my arms and limp are nice?” He raised a brow, giving you a questioning look.

Apparently, the alcohol was still in your system because you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

He responded with that deep, masculine laughter again. “You can call me Ken.”

“Ken… Honestly, that suits you. You look like a Ken doll.” You extended your hand to him, telling your name. He shook your hand with his large, soft one.

“For someone who draws all day, your hands and fingers are surprisingly soft.”

He glanced at his fingers. “I take good care of them. After all, I need them to keep people satisfied.”

That statement could be interpreted in three ways:

1. He’s an architect who creates designs to impress people.

2. He uses those hands to satisfy partners in bed until they’re utterly spent.

3. Both of the above.

It was probably the first, but your slightly aroused brain was leaning toward the second… or maybe the third.

“I’d be very happy if you told me the cream you use,” you stammered, barely managing to speak through your embarrassment.

“Gladly. If you’re done eating, how about we get some cinnamon rolls?”

Surprised by his suggestion, you asked, “Do you think we can find some? Most places are closed on Christmas Eve. Even this place will close in an hour.” Your original plan had been to bake them at home, but inviting him over seemed too forward. He might have a girlfriend or even a wife. Heck, maybe he even had kids. Okay, probably not a wife or girlfriend—he wouldn’t be spending time with another woman alone if he did. But the kids were still a question mark.

While he offered to find cinnamon rolls, you were mentally drafting his backstory like a TV drama. How ethical was that?

“There’s a Christmas market near where I live, and I saw some on sale earlier,” he said.

You immediately stood up, grabbing your coat and bag. “How far is it?”

Ken laughed, standing and guiding you toward the McDonald’s exit with a hand lightly resting on your back. “Not far, don’t worry.”

It seemed this Christmas Eve wasn’t turning out so bad after all.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The cinnamon rolls were absolutely delicious. Maybe they weren’t as good as your dad’s, but they were definitely better than the ones you made.

“I don’t know why we didn’t meet earlier,” you said, taking another bite of your cinnamon roll. “If we had, I’m sure we’d be great friends. I’d probably come to this market every day, too!”

Ken laughed as he watched you. “I think we would’ve been great friends, too. And since you eat so much, I’d have made a workout program just for you.”

By the time you’d left McDonald’s and arrived here, you’d talked about so many things. The conversation continued while you searched for a place to sit and as you devoured the cinnamon rolls. Ken might have appeared to be a stern person, but after spending this time with him, you were certain he wasn’t a serial killer. Also, as you had guessed (unlike you), he was one of the healthiest eaters you’d ever met. And after your mini TED Talk on your love for food, he seemed determined to convert you to the joys of a healthy lifestyle.

“Hold it right there, big guy. I’m perfectly happy with my body.”

Ken’s eyes instinctively roamed over your body. You weren’t wearing anything particularly eye-catching—just a white sweater and jeans. But even so, his gaze lingered on you with undeniable appreciation.

You wondered if he wanted to do more than just look, and then he spoke his thoughts aloud. “You should be proud—you have a really great body.” After saying this, he seemed to lower his head, almost embarrassed.

You didn’t want him to be embarrassed. If anything, you wanted him to say more. Much more…

You placed your plastic fork back into the container of cinnamon rolls. “Even though we’re spending Christmas Eve together, I still haven’t thanked you for saving me. If you hadn’t stood behind me when you were about to pay, who knows how much I would’ve embarrassed myself.” You let out a playful groan.

“You’re welcome. But I’d also like to thank you.”

“For what? If it’s for the cinnamon rolls, you’ve already had enough—”

“Oh no, but thanks again for those. If I hadn’t stopped you, I’m pretty sure you would’ve broken my arm.”

That was true. You’d insisted on paying for the rolls yourself as a kind gesture. After all, he’d paid for your drinks. Also, when you handed over your card, seeing his veiny hands and the Rolex on his wrist had almost made you bite those hands right then and there.

“But what I want to thank you for is making me laugh while you were drunk. Also, we’re definitely going to report that mugging incident to the police.”

“Wait, you were actually listening to me?”

“I wasn’t sitting very far from the bar, and after I noticed you, I don’t think I could’ve focused on anything else.”

You stared at Ken with a hungry look in your eyes. The fact that he wanted you made you want to scream with joy. This man had truly saved you from a lonely Christmas. Tonight would end soon, but maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t wake up alone on Christmas morning either.

“You said you live nearby, right?”

“Yes, why? Are you not feeling well?”

“No instead I’m really good. I just want to feel better.”

Ken didn’t say anything for a moment, but the look in his eyes told you he understood exactly what you meant—and that he wanted the same thing.

“Are you sure? If you’re still drunk and don’t want to—”

“I really want you, Ken.”

He still didn’t respond with words; he just kept looking at you with that same hungry gaze.

“Five minutes. It’s just a five-minute walk.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Mffmmp Ken, please…”

As soon as the elevator reached the floor of the luxurious apartment and he opened the door, your lips collided with Ken’s, and you practically jumped into his arms.

He kissed and sucked your lips with such hunger that it felt like he was already inside you. One hand caressed the right side of your face while the other firmly gripped your waist.

He pulled his lips away from yours. “What is it, baby? You want more?” He brushed his lips against yours again but didn’t kiss you. You could feel his hot breath on your lips. “Say it. Say it again.”

“Fuck… Yes, Ken. I want you to pin me to your bed and fuck me until I can’t feel my legs.” You managed to get the words out, panting.

“I knew the moment I saw you that you’d drive me insane.” He pulled you away from the wall where he had you pressed and kissed you again, carrying you toward his bedroom.

You closed your eyes along the way, but you knew you were going upstairs somehow. Was this apartment his? And damn, why was it so big? You were too aroused to focus on anything else. All that mattered to you was the fullness of his luscious lips.

When your back met the soft satin sheets, you opened your eyes. Ken was watching you with a deep hunger in his gaze. Slowly, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before trailing softer kisses downward.

He licked and sucked at your neck, his hands sliding under your white sweater until they reached your breasts. Without rushing, he kneaded them with a deep hunger.

He spoke against your neck, his warm breath making you shiver. “May I take this off?”

The only response you could muster was a loud moan. Ken took it as a yes, planting a final kiss on the sensitive spot of your neck before sitting up and carefully removing your sweater. All that was left was your white lace bra, but instead of taking it off immediately, he let his fingers wander over the lace, particularly around the area of your nipples.

“They’re so soft and beautiful. I could play with them all night.” He leaned down and pressed wet kisses against your bra-covered breasts.

“Oh my god, Ken! Shit—are you going to take it off or not?”

His gaze shifted from your breasts to your face, darkened with desire. He took your right nipple between his teeth over the fabric, making you moan loudly. When he released it, your eyes were still closed, and you were gripping the satin sheets so hard it was a miracle they didn’t tear.

“I like it,” he said, his gaze returning to your breasts. “Besides, the night is long. I’ll take it off when I feel like it.” Without hesitation, he moved to your left breast and gave it the same pleasure as the right.

“Sh-shit, I’ve never—never felt this way before…” Your hands left the sheets and gripped his hair, pulling him closer as if begging for more.

“If I wanted to, I could make you come just by sucking on this perfect nipple, sweetheart.” You were sure he could. If he kept torturing your nipples like this, your panties would be completely soaked.

As if he’d read your mind, his lips left your breast and returned to your neck. He immediately found your favorite spot and began sucking, while one hand moved downward to your soaked, desperate core. You hadn’t even realized when he’d removed your jeans and panties; the pleasure in your breasts had blinded you to everything else.

“So wet and…” His fingers explored your walls, gently rubbing them. “…so warm.”

“KEN… PLEASE.”

“Shhh, be a patient baby. I promise you won’t spend a single second of this Christmas Eve alone or without pleasure,” he said, his lips biting down on your neck as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed it slowly but firmly. “No one will stop my new friend from having a beautiful Christmas.” His fingers moved faster, pressing hard against your most sensitive spot.

“Ughh… Ken, fuck—fuck, I don’t want to—don’t want to be alone.”

His hot breath and quiet curses landed on your neck. “You’re not, sweetheart. I won’t let you be. You’re with me, here, in my bed.”

He drew circles over your clit with his fingers before suddenly plunging them inside you, making you cry out. You didn’t know how he sped up, but as his thick fingers pumped in and out of you, he never slowed down.

“Y-you’re so fast, Ken!” you stammered, barely able to speak from the pleasure. He pressed against your G-spot with such precision that it felt like he’d tear through it.

“Fuck… Right here, isn’t it? That sweet spot. I bet it’s been swollen like this even before we got here,” he said, slowing his pace but pressing harder and deeper against your G-spot. With each deliberate thrust of his fingers, their full length filled you completely.

“YES—YES, THAT’S EXACTLY IT… OH KEN… DON’T—UGH—DON’T STOP!” Both hands moved from the sheets to his head, pulling at his perfectly blond hair as if encouraging him to go deeper.

“Don’t you dare come yet. You’re only coming when I’m inside you for the first time,” he warned as he felt your walls begin to clench around his fingers.

Amid the wet, obscene sounds of your core, you tried to protest. “But I want to… I-I’m so close, Ken.” You pulled his hair harder.

Ken suddenly stopped moving his fingers and pulled them out of you. He sat up, licking his fingers clean. His deep, masculine groans as he savored every inch of your taste sent shivers down your spine.

“Screw the cinnamon rolls. This is my dessert.”

He climbed off the bed and removed his pants and the black turtleneck that fit him so perfectly. His boxers strained against his erection. He opened a drawer from the nightstand, pulling out a condom packet. Lowering his boxers, his cock sprang free, leaving you staring in awe.

Calling it a “cock” felt insufficient—it was massive. A rare sight that anyone would only encounter a few times in their life. And lucky you, on a Christmas night you thought you’d spend alone, you’d encountered it. In that moment, you mentally thanked Jesus. Because without him, there would be no Christmas.

Ken tore the condom packet open with his teeth and carefully rolled it onto his length. He must have noticed your wide-eyed stare because he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips for you to focus on him.

“I never have sex without protection, but if you’re uncomfortable—”

“No—no. I don’t take pills, so we can’t take any risks.”

His gorgeous smile returned to his sweaty face. Aligning himself with your entrance, he pushed just the tip inside, making you close your eyes and let out a deep moan.

“Ken…”

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Too tight…” He gripped his length and pushed more inside. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to his body as you adjusted to his size. He hadn’t even fully entered you yet.

Ken began thrusting slowly, letting you get used to his girth. When your back hit the satin sheets again, he hooked your legs around his waist. His face found your neck, his favorite spot, as he groaned softly.

“This—this is exactly what I needed.” His cock slid in and out with increasing depth. “This isn’t just—fuck… Christmas fun, sweetheart. You’re mine now.”

Pulling away from your neck, he straightened up and started moving faster. Your legs stayed wrapped around his waist, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

“Hnngh Ken… F-faster… Please, faster…” You needed more. You wanted all of him.

Ken gripped your legs tighter. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” He suddenly pushed your legs up to your chest and leaned over, slamming his entire length into you.

“KEN—KEN… FUCK… YOU’RE GOING TO BREAK ME!”

“That’s the plan.”

This was more than just sex—it was pure obliteration. His cock was wrecking you, pounding against your G-spot with relentless force. Your legs, trembling from pleasure and strain, would have fallen limp if Ken weren’t holding them.

“Ken… I think I’m—I’m going to come…” you moaned, the waves of pleasure building in your body signaling your release.

“Yeah?” His hands tightened around your thighs. “Then take it. Take every—every inch of me. Come for me, sweetheart…”

“DAMN—I LOVE CHRISTMAS SO MUCH!” you cried out, the explosion of your orgasm rocking through you.

Ken thrust into you a few more times, then slowed his movements. The grip on your legs loosened as he let out a deep, guttural growl and came, filling the condom.

As he released your legs, they dropped to the bed, completely limp. You didn’t have the strength to lift them. Ken braced himself above you, breathing heavily. His eyes were closed, and in that moment, you decided this was the most handsome he’d ever looked.

He pulled out of you and disappeared into the bathroom. You assumed he was disposing of the condom. When he returned, his cock was still hard, and he was stroking it lightly as he walked toward you.

You stared at him in shock. Again? Hadn’t he just come?

The sweet man you’d met that evening now looked serious as he ordered, “Turn around and get on all fours. No condom this time.”

Your eyes widened at his words. You were done. You had no energy left, but you still obeyed, getting into position despite your trembling legs.

As you closed your eyes and prepared to feel his massive size inside you again, one thought crossed your mind: Jesus was probably watching.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been. Did you really want him witnessing these nasty moments?

Happy birthday, Jesus.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You woke up the next morning with a sharp ache in your hips. You’d known this would happen. After going six rounds in five different positions with that massive cock, it was inevitable.

You tried to lift yourself up but flopped back down. Turning to the other side of the bed, you found no trace of the stranger you’d met the previous night. Pushing the hair out of your face, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath your feet.

As you wondered how you were going to walk, you noticed a glass of water and a few pills on the nightstand. Beside them, a note written in neat, elegant handwriting caught your eye.

“I thought you might need these :)”

“That bastard…” you muttered under your breath. He really knew what he was doing. Sure, he was sweet, but what he’d done to you in bed last night… You’d cried during sex for the first time in your life.

Quickly downing the pills, you got to your feet and started searching for something to wear. Picking your clothes up off the floor was out of the question—you didn’t have the strength. While exploring the room, you found a massive walk-in closet and rejoiced when you spotted an oversized T-shirt.

Everything was neatly folded and smelled just like him. If they sold his cologne, you’d have bought ten bottles without hesitation. Slipping into the plain white T-shirt you found, which reached past your thighs, you decided underwear wasn’t even necessary.

Leaving the bedroom to find Ken, you finally noticed the sheer size of the apartment. How much did architects make? Maybe he was world-renowned. You made a mental note to look him up as soon as you got home.

Descending the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit your nose. You saw him standing in front of the coffee machine, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. His back was to you, his hand holding his phone as he scrolled through something.

He looked like a Christmas morning gift you couldn’t wait to unwrap.

“Good morning…” you said shyly, standing near the entrance of the kitchen.

Ken looked up from his phone, and his eyes hungrily roamed over you. You recognized that look all too well, and God, no, not right now. You were starving, and your legs had barely carried you this far.

“Hey, good morning.” He walked over and kissed you softly before returning to the coffee machine as it finished brewing. “Coffee?” he asked, to which you eagerly replied, “Please.”

The word please had become your most-used word in the past 10 hours, and if you stayed around this man any longer, it would probably dominate the rest of your vocabulary.

Ken handed you a cup of coffee, then started making one for himself. Taking a sip, the warmth of the coffee helped you feel a bit more alive.

“Shit… I forgot to text my parents.” You set your cup down on the counter and went to find your bag. It didn’t take long; it was sitting near the entrance. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you opened your messages to reply to the “Merry Christmas” text your parents had sent you at 7 a.m., which you were now seeing three hours late.

When you returned to the kitchen, Ken was speaking on the phone in what sounded like Danish. You couldn’t understand a word, but no language had ever sounded this sexy before.

You placed your bag on the counter and waited for him to finish while you opened a text from a coworker.

Yuma [20:30]: Hey, I didn’t want to bother you on Christmas Eve, but do you remember that architecture company we’re making the ad for?

Yuma [20:30]: Of course you do. Well, the owner hasn’t been in Japan for a long time, but now he’s here.

Yuma [20:30]: *photo*

Yuma [20:31]: YUMMYYY!!!

Yuma [9:23]: Merry Christmas!! I know you spent the evening alone, but if you want company this morning, teleport to my place!

Yuma [9:50]: Since you haven’t replied, I’m assuming you drank and cried yourself to sleep last night.

You started reading the messages from the bottom up. Just as you were about to reply that your Christmas Eve hadn’t been lonely at all, the attached photo caught your attention—and you froze.

This couldn’t be real.

The man in the photo, looking dashing in a gray suit, was the same man currently standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but sweatpants, speaking on the phone.

You quickly opened Google and typed Nanami Structures. The CEO’s name caught your eye.

Kento Nanami.

Clicking on the name brought up countless photos, articles, and interviews about the man you’d spent the night with.

This was your fault. Why hadn’t you researched the company before the meeting? Then again, this deal had been arranged before you’d joined, so no one had given you the details.

Closing your phone, you set it down next to your bag and took a large sip of the coffee Kento Nanami himself had made for you. The heat burned your tongue, and you winced as your eyes drifted back to his bare back.

The handsome stranger who’d kept you company on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning was the owner of the architecture firm you’d be making an ad for—and probably the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk properly by the time of the meeting.

That day, you truly believed in the Christmas miracles.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

nanami art by @matchapichai on X.

dividers by @mikeykuns @cafekitsune

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 02 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2966 | ao3 link

I glanced up and saw no hint of judgment in his eyes or voice. That was definitely a new thing to me. Ever since the incident on my birthday, it seemed like almost everyone around me had been treating me like a terrible person. But Dave seemed genuinely concerned, which was new to me. So far, I had only seen his laid-back side. It seems I wasn't the only one full of surprises.

✦ on this chapter: oc is cliff's cousin, +18, slice of life, drinking, smoking, cliff being cliff (overprotective older cousin), physical violence, implied alcoholism and drinking issues, dave mustaine x female!oc

“Hey, Nore. Wake up.” I woke up to Cliff gently shaking me.

“Hmmm... What time is it?” I grumbled, covering my eyes with the pillow. I opened my eyes, annoyed, when Cliff pulled the pillow from my hands. “Hey!”

“It's almost eleven. You slept so much that you didn't even wake up with the guys' mess last night.” he scoffed “I almost thought you were in a coma or something.”

I let out a big yawn and stretched, already feeling guilty for having slept so much, but knowing there was no way to avoid it. I was exhausted after the trip the day before, and honestly, I still didn't feel 100% rested.

“Hey, today is my first gig with the band.” Cliff remarked as I searched for some clean clothes in my bag.  “Wanna come and watch?”

“Sure. As long as you don't ban me from having a drink.” I stood up and turned to him, eyebrows raised. He let out an annoyed sigh.

“It's not a problem if you drink, Nore. Just don't go crazy with it.”

I shook my head, rolling my eyes.

“You enjoy your drinks too, Cliff. Don’t act like you’re the authority here to lecture me.”

“Whatever.” He furrowed his brow. “I'm hitting up the grocery store to grab something for lunch in like 15 minutes. Wanna tag along?”

“Sure, just let me change real quick.” I showed him the stack of clothes in my hand.

“Cool. Meet me in the living room when you’re ready and then we’ll go.” He said and headed out, closing the bedroom door behind him.

I quickly changed and stepped out of the room. I froze in disbelief at the chaotic sight that greeted me in the living room: a mess of beer bottles and cans scattered all over the floor, and Lars sprawled face down on the rug, passed out. I shot Cliff an accusing look as he strolled in from the kitchen, munching on a sandwich.

“And you're worried about me drinking?” I pointed to the mess. “Why don't you rein in your buddies?”

Cliff laughed.

“Hey, they're not you. Plus, you better get used to it. They drink like hell.”

I rolled my eyes and headed to the kitchen, where I spotted Dave crashed out at the table, head and arms slumped down, with a half-empty beer bottle in his hand. I opened the fridge — more beer inside and hardly any food.

“Guess I'll be having beer for breakfast.” I mumbled to myself.

“Wouldn't be a bad idea.” I heard a groggy voice chime in. I glanced up and caught Dave's smirk.

“Here.” Cliff shoved a sandwich, just like the one he was munching on, into my hand. “Let's bounce.”

“Where you guys headed?” Dave asked.

“Off to the market, to grab some food.” Cliff replied gruffly. “I bet Lars and James will wake up starving.”

“Count me in.” Dave said.

Cliff gave him a puzzled look, raising an eyebrow, but didn't say anything as he made his way to the living room. I followed along and took the chance to swing by the bathroom and brush my teeth. That's where I found James, fully dressed, snoozing in the bathtub with an empty beer bottle in hand. I couldn't help but wonder how wild things got while I was asleep. When I returned, only Cliff was in the living room.

“Where did Dave go?” I asked.

“Changing clothes. He was stinking.” Cliff grumbled.

“I heard that.” Dave grinned as he came down the stairs. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks when I realized I had been staring at him — his smile was really beautiful.

Thank goodness Cliff couldn't read minds, or I would have to deal with him teasing me about that thought for the rest of the day.

We made our way to the car, and I hopped in the backseat while they claimed the front seats. We quickly arrived at the supermarket, the same one I’d gone to with James the day before. While Cliff parked the car, I headed to the food section, with Dave trailing behind me.

“So, where are you from?” he suddenly asked.

“Long Beach.” I replied, glancing at the products on the shelf. I picked up a few cans of tomato sauce before looking at him, who had leaned casually against the shelf, observing me. “And you? Are you from around here?”

“No, I'm from La Mesa.” he smiled “I didn't think you were from California. You have a beautiful accent.”

I was surprised that he had noticed the accent that had become barely noticeable over the years. I blinked, feeling a bit embarrassed by the compliment, but strangely happy about it.

“My grandparents are not from around here. My grandma is French, and my grandpa is from England... My mom is English too, and when I was a kid, we used to travel a lot. I guess that's why.”

“Seriously?” he raised an eyebrow  “I never thought Cliff had such a fancy cousin.”

I chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Cool to know that, though. When we hit it big, you can be our tour guide for international gigs” he teased.

“That'd be a disaster.” Cliff chimed in. I glanced to the side and saw him standing there, arms crossed, observing our conversation. I could feel my cheeks warming up a bit. “She's so scatterbrained that you two would end up getting lost in no time.”

"It wouldn't be so bad." Dave grinned at me. I could feel my cheeks turning red, but Cliff didn't seem fazed at all. He gave Dave a cold glare before snatching the grocery basket from my hand and walking off. Dave chuckled. "Is he jealous of you?"

“No, he's just an overly protective idiot.” I scoffed, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“No worries. I won't push you into anything you don't wanna do.” He chuckled softly. I smiled.

“If I can score a couple of beers at the show tonight, that's good enough for me.”

I could see the excitement light up in his eyes when I mentioned the show, and my heart started racing. Oh my God, what was happening to me?

"So, you're going tonight?" he asked, and I nodded. "I already know this cool spot we can hit up afterward. There's a bar near the venue that I think you'll like."

"As long as they've got beer for me, it's all good." I chuckled. "What do you play?"

"Oh, I'm on guitar. James handles rhythm guitar and vocals, and Lars is on drums. And Cliff plays bass, but you already know that." he grinned.

"Oh, I've always wanted to learn guitar!" I exclaimed, getting excited. "But my mom made me take piano lessons."

"Piano?" he laughed, looking surprised. "You really are full of surprises. How did a girl like you end up living with us?"

I froze when I remembered why I was there. Well, that wasn't exactly a topic I was eager to dive back into because it hadn't been a pleasant experience. Dave must have sensed my hesitation because he instantly changed his demeanor. He stepped away from the shelf and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Hey. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

I shook my head.

"It's just... I had some trouble with my family. And with alcohol."

"Was it really bad?" he asked. I glanced up and saw no hint of judgment in his eyes or voice. That was definitely a new thing to me. Ever since the incident on my birthday, it seemed like almost everyone around me had been treating me like a terrible person. But Dave seemed genuinely concerned, which was new to me. So far, I had only seen his laid-back side.

It seems I wasn't the only one full of surprises.

"It was really bad." I admitted in a low voice.

"Hey, you coming or what?" Cliff called out before Dave could answer, holding the basket full of groceries in his hand. "If I knew I was bringing you two just to have a chat, I would've left both of you back home."

I shot him a slightly irritated look for the interruption but followed him to the checkout counter.

Dave and I didn't exchange many words for the rest of the day. Cliff was always around, and everyone was caught up in the pre-show preparations. However, I found myself distracted, thinking more about our conversation than I cared to admit. Not only that, but also the way he smiled, his eyes, his face. I seriously need to get a grip, I scolded myself.

Later in the evening, as we were getting ready to go out, Cliff's girlfriend, Leanne, showed up. Cliff introduced me to her — a girl slightly taller than me, with dark wavy locks and olive skin. She was extremely kind, and we discovered we had a shared love for the same bands. She even offered me a place to crash at her house since she had a spare room. I politely declined, but I realized I had gained a friend.

Leanne and I were lucky enough to secure a spot by the stage where Cliff and the guys would be performing.The venue was small and expected to be crowded - and it definitely was. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement as the crowd filled up. To my delight, we had a cooler nearby stocked with some refreshing beers. I wasted no time grabbing one as soon as we arrived.

The show didn't take long to start. I enthusiastically applauded as they took the stage. They kicked things off with a cover of Diamond Head and then transitioned into their own original songs. I was surprised and thrilled by their talent. By the second song, I was completely hooked, jumping and hollering along with the rest of the crowd. I couldn't believe how happy I felt in that moment — it had been ages since I felt this alive.

James and Dave took a breather while Cliff kicked off his bass solo, which I knew parts of since he had shown me a bit of it once. They went over to the cooler, sweaty, and grabbed some cans of beer and towels to wipe themselves off. Dave approached me with a smile, standing next to me to watch Cliff play.

"Hey," he said, handing me his beer can. "Mind finishing this for me? Gotta run back there."

I barely had time to crack a smile before he dashed back to the center of the stage, launching into another upbeat, fast-paced song. Their onstage energy was out of this world— I could just feel in my bones that they were destined for big things someday.

They played a few more songs and wrapped up the show. Time flew by, and I was buzzing with excitement the whole time. We headed backstage as the crowd dispersed. Cliff approached us, beaming with joy, more hyped than I had ever seen him since I arrived in San Francisco.

"Did you like it?" he asked me, grinning, while throwing his arm around Leanne's shoulders. She cracked open a cold beer and passed it to him.

"I fucking loved it!" I exclaimed, and he chuckled at my enthusiasm. "You rock so hard."

"Damn straight I do," he replied with a confident smirk.

"And you're not short on ego either," Leanne teased. He laughed it off.

"Want to grab a drink?" he asked her, then glanced at me with uncertainty. "You up for heading home?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Why would I want to do that? Seriously."

"Wanna join us for a drink, Nore?" Lars chimed in, approaching. He was all sweaty, but didn't seem tired at all. In fact, every time I saw him, he was bursting with energy.

"Absolutely," I responded, giving Cliff a daring look, but he didn't seem bothered. Lars grinned.

"Awesome! Hey, James, Dave!" he called out to the other side of the room. "Nore's coming with us."

I glanced over at them. James was busy chatting with some fans who had managed to sneak backstage, so he didn't seem to pay much attention, but Dave looked at us and flashed a smile as he approached.

"Did your dad let you come?" he asked, pointing at Cliff.

"He doesn't need to let me," I retorted, with a challenging tone and then said, teasingly: "If I feel like having a drink, I know where to find what I need."

"I highly doubt that," Cliff quipped with a touch of irony. "You've only just arrived in town, and you're such an airhead that you'd probably get lost without us."

Lars and Dave burst into laughter, and I playfully smacked Cliff's arm.

"You're such a buzzkill," I complained.

"You're such a child," he retorted.

"Stuck up."

"Idiot."

"Alright, enough of that, you two," Leanne laughed. "Come on, let’s get our drink on!"

We helped pack up the equipment and cram it into the van we came in. I ended up sandwiched between Leanne and James, his hair brushing against my face. We soon pulled up at a bar, where we managed to get in without showing ID. Dave bought a round of beers for everyone, and the drinking started.

I quickly realized that Cliff became way more tolerant of my drinking when he had a beer in his own hand. My vision quickly started to blur, and my face felt warm, but I didn't really care. Lars and Dave were laughing loudly about something, and there I was, staring at Dave again. Dave and his half-smile, Dave and his brown eyes, Dave and his cute nose. Damn, he was seriously attractive.

"He can't shut up about you," James remarked, leaning in next to me, beer in hand. "I can't stand hearing about it anymore."

"You find me that annoying?" I asked, a bit angry. Definitely the alcohol talking.

"Didn't say that. But it'd be easier if he just grew a pair and asked you out," he smirked. I blushed.

"Bet it's all talk."

"Wishing it was true?"

"Shut up."

"You get feisty when you drink. Is that why Cliff wanted to put a ban on you?"

"Shut up, James," I grumbled. "You're wasted."

"Look who's talking. And you didn't answer my question."

"Are you worried?" I teased. He flashed a mischievous grin.

"As if."

"Then I don't owe you an answer."

"What are you guys talking about?" Dave stumbled over, and I could tell just by looking at him that he was much more drunk than James and I together.

"James is pissing me off," I griped.

"Hey, I just said he can’t shut up about you" James retorted, chuckling. 

It happened so fast I could barely process it. All of a sudden, James was on the floor, howling in pain and rage, while Dave punched him, his face beet red.

"You didn't have to say shit!"

"Get the fuck off me, you moron!" James shoved him away. "What the fuck was that, you jerk?"

"Go fuck yourself! You didn't have to say shit!"

"What?" I asked confusedly. "Dave, what the..."

But they were already throwing punches at each other again. The bar owner rushed over, shouting something about calling the police, but they only ceased their fight when Cliff stood up, sighing "this shit again," grabbed both of them by the arms, and threw them to the ground.

"If you guys get arrested, I'm not posting bail for anyone, got it?" he asked, annoyed.

"Remember what we talked about, Dave," slurred Lars, followed by a hiccup. "If you're fighting, it’s a sign you've had too much to drink."

James and Dave stood up, furious. James had a split lip, and a trickle of blood stained his chin. He glared at Dave while Dave, visibly anxious and angry, approached me. He grabbed my arm, but without applying any force.

"What'd he say to you?"

"He didn't say anything, Dave," I replied, taken aback. "We were just talking."

"I'm serious, Nore."

"Hey. She already said it was nothing. Back off," Cliff intervened, shoving him away from me. "Nore, I'll call a taxi to take you home."

"What? Why?"

"The night is over, or do you think there's still a party vibe here? I'll handle this mess, but you need to go home."

"I'm going with her," Dave said.

"Like hell you are," Cliff grumbled. "You're going to help sort out the mess you started, you idiot. Come on, Nore."

Cliff took me over to a phone in the corner of the bar, dialing up a taxi to come and pick me up. He handed me the house key and some cash.

"Here’s for the taxi. Let's wait outside."

We stepped outside and waited in front of the bar. The night was cold, making me shiver and wrap my arms around myself. Cliff placed his leather jacket over my shoulders. It was oversized, but it helped keep me warm.

"Watch out for that guy, Nore," he blurted out. I looked at him, puzzled.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Dave. That fight just now had something to do with you, right? I don't know what's going on in his head, but be careful."

I scoffed.

"You're just imagining things," I said. He shrugged, not convinced.

Finally, the taxi pulled up; I said my goodbyes to Cliff and hopped in. I gazed out the window, watching the city pass by, feeling upset and confused as I tried to process what had just happened. When I got home, I rushed into the shower, letting the hot water sober me up. Once I was able to relax, I slipped into some comfortable clothes and collapsed onto Cliff's bed, where I fell asleep almost instantly.