#if i made any mistakes please let me know

[cheshireliam]

"Growing Feelings Poured Into Chocolate" Collection Event

Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Got too excited and did this in a rush. Didn't really proofread...

Kate: Ring!

…

Kate: Ring!

…

Kate: Riiiinngg!

(I can't find him anywhere…)

Today was Valentine's Day— a day to gift chocolates and other gifts to express your appreciation or love.

I had prepared chocolates to show my appreciation to everyone who's supported me.

That included the members of Crown of course, the friendly maids at Crown's castle, and even the members of Vogel.

However, Ring was the only person I couldn't find today.

(He usually says he's watching me and follows right behind me… where could he be?)

I was determined to give Ring his chocolates, and so I kept searching for him…

In the end, I never found him.

…

(Darius and Nica said he was somewhere in the palace when I asked…)

(He might come back to drawing room, so I'll wait here for now.)

When I sat down on a chair and let out a deep sigh to ease my fatigue, a wave of sleepiness slowly washed over me.

(I know I shouldn't fall asleep in a place like this, and yet…)

The more I tried to shake off the sleepiness, the heavier my eyelids grew.

Just as I decided to give in and take a short nap, I felt soft blanket being gently draped over my shoulders.

(Who is it…?)

I cracked my eyes open slightly, and saw that the person standing before me was the exact person I had been searching for the entire time.

Kate: Ring!

Ring: UWAH!? You… you're awake!?

Kate: I just woke up. There's something I want to tell you, so please hear me out!

I firmly grabbed his arm to make sure he wouldn't run off.

Ring: Sigh… so this is where my escape ends.

Kate: I knew it. I couldn't find you all day, because you were avoiding me on purpose, weren't you?

Kate: Why are you running away from me? If it's something I did, I'll apologise.

Ring: No… it's not anything you did…

Ring: … I just didn't want to be disappointed.

He muttered in a small voice that sounded no louder than a squeak.

Kate: Disappointed…?

Ring: You gave… chocolates to Nica and Darius this morning, right?

Ring: I kept thinking, what if I ran into you today and didn't get any chocolate…?

Ring: I'd probably feel disappointed and think "I was right, I'm not getting any", so I chose to run away.

Ring: … I'm weird, aren't I?

Ring: Until now, it's never bothered me whenever Darius and Nica received gifts from girls and I didn't…

Ring: But the thought of not receiving chocolates from you really made me feel gloomy.

Listening to Ring express his confusion with those unfamiliar feelings filled my heart with warmth.

Kate: To think you wanted my chocolates so much… I'm really honoured.

Kate: You feeling gloomy over the possibility of not receiving them is proof that our friendship has gotten closer!

When I was a child, I would feel lonely too if my friends played with other children instead of me.

Ring's feelings were most likely something similar to that.

Ring: Is that… what it is? No, I'm a member of Vogel and you're from Crown. There's no need for us to get along…

It seemed that Ring still believed he shouldn't be on friendly terms with someone from Crown.

Ignoring his last statement, I took out the chocolates.

Kate: Here, Ring. Happy Valentine's Day!

Ring: This is… for me? I-is it because I said I wanted chocolate…?

Kate: Not at all. I prepared this specifically for you from the start.

Kate: I was looking for you so I could give you these chocolates.

Ring: R-really? I never thought there would come a day when I'd receive Valentine's chocolate…

Ring: … I figured I'd spend my whole life just eating Nica's leftover chocolate.

Ring: Thanks. I'm… I'm super happy.

Ring: I think I'll spend every day and night staring at these chocolates.

Kate: Huh?

Ring: If I look at them whenever I wake up in the mornings and before I go to sleep at night, I'll always remember how happy I was when I received them from you…

Kate: Um, they're chocolate, so I'd prefer if you ate them…

Ring: … But they'll be gone if I do.

Ring looked serious about leaving the chocolate untouched, like a dog burying its treat for safekeeping.

(If that's the case…)

Kate: Gotcha!

I switftly snatched the chocolates from Ring's hand and ripped open the packaging.

Ring: My chocolate…!

Kate: I'll give you more next year, so don't feel bad about it. Come on, open your mouth!

Ring: Mmph!

I forcibly stuffed chocolate into Ring's mouth.

Ring: Mm… it's so… sweet, and delicious…

Kate: That's great! I sampled a few and picked the one I thought was the tastiest!

Ring: And… my chest feels tight, I can't breathe…

Kate: … I promise the chocolates aren't poisoned.

Since Ring often said his heart raced like he was under a curse whenever he saw me, I made sure to set the record straight.

Ring: … I know they're not.

Ring: I'm just so happy to you got me chocolates… it hurts.

Kate: …

(… Him admitting it so straightforwardly is a problem in itself.)

Seeing Ring's overjoyed reaction, I felt sweet inside, even though I didn't have any chocolates myself.

[mrscarpenter]

“We were always meant to burn together.”

Summary: Daemon hasn’t seen his niece in a decade, and drama unfolds on driftmark.

Includes/warnings: hightower!reader, aegons twin. this is probably horribly written so thats a warning in itself, not proof read but i believe Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. Did not give reader a description other than female & lilac eyes. There is an age gap in this (reader is 15 and daemon is whatever his canon age was in that time. My memory is awful) like i said, not proof read, if you see any spelling errors feel free to point them out! If i missed any warnings, please lmk :)

🪐notes: its been a while since i’ve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)

Daemon hadn’t seen you in ten years, ten whole years. In his mind you were still that five years old little princess, cheerful and trusting, unlike your mother. Alicent Hightower. Daemon hated that entire Hightower-Targaryen bunch, but never you, he could see you weren’t like them. But he never spent much time with you, opting to steer clear of you so your mother wouldn’t rotten your mind like she did the rest. But now, you were five and ten. Standing next to your uncle, Gwayne Hightower, whom you had spent all those years with in Oldtown.

Daemon couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you, which is odd because it used to be Rhaenyra who drew his attention like a moth to a flame. The first time he’s seen you in ten years, and its at his late wife’s funeral, lady Laena Velaryon. He wondered about you, did you know valyrian? Did your dragon egg hatch? Were you still that same girl?

You avoided his gaze, but it made you nervous nonetheless. You weren’t close with Laena, but it still saddened when you heard of her death. As boring as Oldtown was, it meant you didn’t have to be wed to anyone. After hearing of the late Queen Aemma, and now Laena, you hoped you’d never have to experience childbirth. It deeply frightened you.

Shaking off your thoughts and daemons lingering gaze, you decided to focus back on Ser Vaemond, Laena's uncle and Lord Corlys's brother, as he spoke.

"Tubī Velario Lentro Ābrāzme Laene iēdrarta mōrqittot, māzīlarē tubirri Elēdrion ziry umīsilza luo dāriot, hannagon Embrurliot gierūlti.” We join today at the Seat of the Sea to commit the Lady Laena of House Velaryon to the eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King, where He will guard her for all days to come.

Among the other mourners, your family also sailed to driftmark to attend the funeral. You allowed your gaze to shift to them for a moment, your eyes landing on your father, King Viserys Targaryen, next your mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, and then your siblings. Your younger sister, Helaena. Your younger brother Aemond, who like you, was without dragon. And your twin brother, who couldn’t be more different from you, Aegon. When you noticed Aegon snap his gaze towards you, you quickly looked away, focusing on someone else. Your half-sister, Rhaenyra.

You kept the most contact with her, unlike your mother, Rhaenyra always answered your letters. Updating you on everything that happened in the red keep, and on her family. But Rhaenyra’s gaze wasn’t on you, it was on Alicent.

You took her from the only home she's ever known, Rhaenyra thought bitterly, her throat tightened. You took her away from everyone, From Daemon, From Corlys, from Laenor... from me. But I won't let you deprive us of her like you did before. Not if I have anything to say about it.

Vaemond, while delivering the eulogy, could not resist looking at Rhaenyra's alleged sons with Laena's brother Laenor – Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys, and the baby Prince Joffrey. The elder Velaryon knight felt his blood boil and his face twisted in a scowling disgust at the lack of resemblance to Laenor, they looked nothing like him. "Velario ānogro rȳ lopor ojāris.” Salt courses through Velaryon blood. he continues. "Īlvo qumblī iāris. Īlvo drējī iāris. Se dōrī vajiñagon īlvo bēvilis.” Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin.

While Daemon is somewhat somber at his late wife's death, he cannot help but start giggling at Vaemond's pettiness in bringing this up now of all times. You, meanwhile, glanced briefly at your uncle, hearing his giggle. Corlys and Rhaenys also noticed the apparent disrespectful behavior during their daughter's funeral.

"Talus mandus ñuhus. Inkoso kostōbāpis aōhis jelmīs sagon, gīso lykāpas aōhas embis, se prūmȳsa lēdāpas aōhas manengīs. Hen embār masti. Va embrot āmāzīli.” My gentle niece. May your winds be as strong as your back, your seas be as calm as your spirit, and your nets be as full as your heart. From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return.

Gripping the ropes tightly, the Velaryon men-at-arms began gently pulling backward to slide Laena's stone coffin closer to the edge of Driftmark's coastal cliff before dropping into the sea, to rest beside her ancestors. Before long, the services slowly began to die down.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Following the funeral, the mourners solemnly make their way to the cliffside courtyard of High Tide castle for the wake. Despite the atmosphere being predominantly filled with awkward silences and strained conversations, the presence of seven Targaryen dragons currently bonded to their riders soared overhead, including the likes of Rhaenyra's Syrax, Daemon's Caraxes, Rhaenys's Meleys, Laenor's Seasmoke, Aegon’s Sunfyre, Helaena's Dreamfyre, and Baela's Moondancer. The gathering is a significant event, one that has earned Driftmark the nickname "New Valyria" among observers.

The only one that was not present now was Vhagar, the Queen of All Dragons. Many speculated the ancient dragon was not in attendance because of the emotional grief over outliving another rider; others suggest that Vhagar had returned to one of her nesting grounds in the Narrow Sea to live out the remainder of her life as a wild dragon. However, there were sights of Vhagar apparently bereaved near the dunes of Driftmark's sandy beaches.

Rhaenyra looked amongst the gathering before finding one of her sons, Lucerys

"Have you seen your father?" she asked.

Lucerys shook his head. "He said he wanted some alone time," he answered.

"Your little cousins have lost their mother. They could use a kind word. Go comfort them?" And without further words, the boy went over to his nieces.

Meanwhile Rhaenyra found you, alone staring out at the sea. “Sister.”, you could hear the smile in her voice, and sure enough, you looked over and she had half a smile on her face. “Rhaenyra” you acknowledged her softly, your voice gentle as always.

As you two caught up, Ser Criston spoke to Alicent. "Lyonel Strong's son's been staring at you since the moment we arrived, Your Grace. Unabashedly," Criston informed her.

"It is only a look of pride, Ser Criston," Alicent remarked coolly. "Larys is the new Lord of Harrenhal."

Viserys, on the other hand, glanced at his estranged younger brother Prince Daemon whom he hadn't seen in over a decade. There were so many things he wanted to say to him. They did not part ways on good terms when it became known that Daemon escorted Rhaenyra to a brothel – little did he know it was not the case. He took Rhaenyra to a brothel, yes, but he did not have sex with her.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

As the skies began to darken with the arrival of dusk, King Viserys, like everyone else, began to retire for the evening. Ever exhausted with each step he took and Laena's death in childbirth clearly reminding him of his first wife's similar death years before, Viserys couldn't help but think of Aemma Arryn again. Oh, by the Gods, the king missed her so much. "I'm going to bed, Aemma," he accidentally said to his second wife.

Alicent looked quietly unnerved. "What did you just call me?" she said offended. Ser Harrold intervened. "Shall I send after Queen Alicent, Your Grace?" he gently corrected.

Viserys now realized who he was talking to. Trading glances between his second wife and Ser Harrold, he swears he was losing his mind. "No, Ser Harrold," the king declined and returned to the castle for a night's rest. "Very well, Your Grace," Harrold acknowledged. "You have the night's watch, Ser Criston," he instructed his subordinate.

Criston noticed the awkwardness as well. "Lord Commander," he acknowledged.

Alicent, however, curled her fists into a ball. How dare Viserys call her by his late wife's name? She was a living girl, and the king was still in love with a dead one! She was not going to forget such an insult.

Gwayne walked over to Alicent, guiding you along with him with a hand on your back. “Dear siste-“

“Why is she here? Take her back to Oldtown, i dont want her here.”

Your heart broke at Alicent’s words, you’d think she’d be happy to be reunited with her daughter after ten years, but alas.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

From a distance, Aemond observed his surroundings. Qarl brought Laenor back to the courtyard, but the heir to Driftmark broke free from his lover's embrace and entered the castle alone, still grieving for Laena. As he watched them, Aemond heard a dragon's faint but mournful roar nearby - Vhagar, the Queen of All Dragons, the oldest and largest in Westeros. As per the stories, her flames were so intense that they could melt a knight's armor and cook him inside, she could devour a whole horse in one gulp, and her mighty roar could shake the very foundation of Storm's End.

« There are other options in case an egg doesn't hatch. You need to know where to look. »

Aemond, being a Targaryen without a dragon, recalled his fathers advice. Heeding Viserys’ words, Aemond realized that there were alternative means to become a dragonrider in the event of an unhatched dragon egg.

After ensuring that no one was around, the young prince took the opportunity to secretly trail Vhagar's outline as it flew close to one of Driftmark's sandbanks. Little did Aemond anticipate the consequences of his actions, which would go down in history as a controversial political scandal.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

You were seated by the fireplace of your guest chambers when Ser Criston bursted into your chambers, “your mother has requested your presence in the hall, an incident has happened.”

Quickly pulling your nightly robes shut to make yourself decent, you follow Criston’s fast paces to the hall.

Upon entry, you see the hall divided, Rhaenyra, Daemon, both their children, Rhaenys and Lord Corlys on one side, your siblings, mother and the hightide maester, on the other. “What happene-“ you stop speaking when your eyes land on Aemond, one eye having just been sowed up by the maester. Your hand covers your mouth in shock as your eyes scan the room, wondering what the hell happened here. The room quickly went into disarray, everyone shouting at someone.

King Viserys rushed to the Hall of Nine upon receiving a warning from his grandchildren, but unfortunately, he arrived too late. The damage has already been done. He used his cane to demand silence and restore order. "How could you allow such a thing to happen? I will have answers!" he insisted, furious with the Kingsguard for not protecting princes of royal blood.

"The princes were supposed to be in bed, my king," Harrold informed. "That was until a certain dragon woke everybody up in Driftmark," Arryk mentioned. "Who had the night's watch?"

"Ser Criston did, Your Grace," Erryk answered. "The young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace," Criston protested.

"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!"

"I'm very sorry, Your Grace," Harrold apologized. "The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace―" Criston tried protesting again. "THAT IS NO ANSWER!!" Viserys shouted angrily.

Alicent looked at her son. "It will heal, will it not, maester?" she inquired.

Maester Kevlyn shook his head. "The flesh will heal. But the eye is lost forever, Your Grace," he replied. "You," the queen turned to her firstborn son, your twin brother. "Where were you?!"

"Me?" Aegon answered obliviously. But he was soon slapped across the face. "Ow! What was that for?!" he complained.

"That was NOTHING compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups and lusting after the serving girls AGAIN, you bloody fool!"

“This is not the time to turn against each other” you warned your mother, stepping up for your twin, not that he deserved it.

"They attacked me!" Aemond shouted.

"You attacked Baela!" Jacaerys shouted back.

"He broke Luke's nose!" Baela chimed in. "He stole my mother's dragon!"

"He was going to kill Jace and Luke!" Rhaena accused. "IT SHOULD BE MY SON TELLING THE TALE!!" Alicent shouted.

All the children began talking over each other; Aemond claimed the other children attacked him, and the other children said they were only defending themselves. Otto stood in cold silence, while Daemon leaned against the wall with his arms crossed; although the Rogue Prince did not express himself, he was furious when he found out what his nephew had done to his daughters. Both parties kept going at it until King Viserys felt a headache coming.

"Enough... Enough!" King Viserys ordered.

"He called us―" Jacaerys tried to speak.

"Be quiet," Rhaenyra instructed silently. Then, when nobody went silent, Otto raised his voice. "HOLD YOUR TONGUES!!"

"SILENCE!!" King Viserys shouted.

The room went quiet as both voices boomed with firm, authoritative tones. "He called us bastards," Jacaerys whispered to his mother.

You, having heard what he said, turned your glare to aemond. Bloody fool you thought. You felt daemon near you, his breath hitting your neck and his hand on your back, using the moment to be near you.

"Aemond," Viserys limped over to his youngest son, "I will have the truth of what happened. Now."

"What else is there to hear?" Alicent angrily interjected. "Your son has been maimed. Their sons are responsible. Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son!"

"It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves! Vile insults were levied against them," she defended.

"What insults?" King Viserys inquired.

"The legitimacy of my sons' birth was put loudly into question. To question their birth is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders."

"Over an insult?" Alicent questioned. "My son LOST AN EYE!"

Now that he has been made aware of the rumors surrounding Jace, Luke, and Joffrey from his grandchildren, the king redirected his attention toward his wounded son. "You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?" he asked.

"The insult was training yard bluster. The lot of boys. It was nothing," Alicent said. Viserys ignored her. "Aemond... I asked you a question," he reiterated. "Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys' father? Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter."

"Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?"

Rhaenyra felt the eyes drawn on her. "I do not know, Your Grace. I... could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk," she feigned ignorance.

"Entertaining his young squires, I would venture," Alicent snidely remarked. "That's enough out of you," Rhaenys warned harshly. Corlys glared at the queen as well over this insult. Criston smirked but ceased when he noticed Harrold staring at him.

"Aemond... look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who told these lies to you?" The king asked for the third time. “Aemond," you stared at him, "your king is speaking to you. Answer him."

Aemond, with only one eye remaining, felt his breathing tremble. Both his father and eldest sister were pressuring him. But after a tense moment looking towards his mother, he decided to speak. "It was Aegon," he answered.

"Me?" Your twin asked with disbelief at the insinuation that his brother used him as a scapegoat.

King Viserys turned to his second son and approached him. "And you, boy?" he said to his face. "Where did you hear such calumnies?" he asked. No answer. "AEGON!" he shouted again. "Tell me the truth of it!"

"We know, father. Everyone knows. Just look at them. They don't look anything like us."

"Doesn't mean you can insult them like that!" You shouted at your twin. "hush," Alicent said to you firmly. “Do you believe such lies?” Viserys now turned to you, his eldest daughter.

You hated this, seeing your ailing father like this, hoping for an answer. "I... can't deny i’ve heard the rumors as well, father," you spoke slowly. "It's not uncommon for Targaryens to not share our physical traits. Take, for example, Princess Rhaenys's mother, Lady Jocelyn, who was born a Baratheon. Despite not resembling us at first glance, your cousin proved herself once she reached adulthood. So is it fair to discriminate against a family based solely on their appearance, trueborn or no?"

Jacaerys and Lucerys both looked at their aunt, who spoke up in defense on their behalf. Meanwhile alicent glared, how dare her daughter speak up in defense of rhaenyra’s family.

Viserys was beside himself. How could things deteriorate so badly with his family? He turned to Rhaenyra, his only surviving child from his first marriage. His daughter shielded her sons, but kept a stoic expression at him. The king then turned to his second wife. "This interminable infighting must cease!" he shouted, distraught. "All of you! Now make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandfather, your king demands it!"

"Aemond has been damaged permanently, my king. 'Goodwill' cannot make him whole." Alicent hisses, making you clench your jaw. Let it rest mother, please, you pleaded with your eyes. “I cannot restore his eye” Viserys spoke.

"No, because it's been TAKEN!"

"What would you have me do then?"

"There is a debt that needs to be paid." Alicent turned to Rhaenyra and her sons. "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return." Rhaenyra immediately moved her sons Jacaerys and Lucerys behind her. "Alicent, stop! Enough! Do not... allow your temper to guide your judgment," viserys yelled.

"Your Grace," you addressed your father disappointingly, "I fear the queen is not in the right state of mind." Not that she ever was in the beginning, of course. Viserys knew there was no going back.

Alicent, upon regaining her composure, saw red hearing her daughter speak about her in such a way. "So be it. If the king will not seek justice, the queen will. Ser Criston... bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon," she ordered. "Mother!" Lucerys screamed. "He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son."

"You will do no such thing," Rhaenyra warned.

Viserys turned to Criston. "Stay your hand!" he commanded.

"No, you are sworn to me!" Alicent yelled. "As your sworn protector, my queen," Ser Criston said.

"This matter... is finished. Do you both understand?" Viserys turned to face the gathered assembly. "And let it be known, anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's sons should have it removed."

"Thank you, father," Rhaenyra sighed.

Alicent, still shaking with fury that Viserys had apparently once again chosen his children's side over hers, refused to accept this. When the king's back was turned, the queen quickly snatched the Valyrian steel dagger from his belt and rushed across the room toward the ones responsible for maiming her son. "Your Grace! Stay with the king," Harrold beckoned.

"Alicent!" Viserys shouted.

"Hold your approach!"

"Sister, look out!" You warned, while moving forward to get in between your mother, who was charging to your sister, or lucerys. Or both.

As Alicent’s blood-curdling scream flooded the room, before she could reach them, You moved as fast as you could to block her. However, Alicent had gotten too close by then and stabbed you in the left shoulder with the dagger.

You growled in pain. But held on firmly by grabbing Alicents shoulder with your right hand and her wrist with the left. No matter the momentum, you forcibly stopped Alicent in her tracks and restrained her.

“Sister!” Rhaenyra yelled in shock.

Criston moved to Alicent but was held back.

"Do not, Ser Criston!" Harrold warned.

Daemon unsheathed Dark Sister and pointed it at the Kingsguard knight. Soon enough, the Rogue Prince and Lord Commander prevented Criston from helping the queen as more Kingsguard moved to restrain him. "Stay your hand, Cole!" Harrold reiterated. "Now, do you see what your queen has done?" Daemon asked. "You are a fool, Ser Crispin."

You suddenly gripped tighter. Slowly turning her head to meet Alicent’s gaze, the Young Dragon's pale lilac eyes burned with the fireplace's illuminating hue. You slowly raised Alicent’s hand, holding the Valyrian steel dagger out of your shoulder, the blade covered in your blood to the hilt. "Let them see you for who and what you are," you pushed against her. "An insignificant, disloyal, power-hungry wretch with no shame or guilt." Then, once you felt the dagger removed from your shoulder, you began twisting alicent’s wrist. "I bet that felt good, keeping up the facade hmm? Not so confident now, are you? The only loyalty you have is to yourself.”

Viserys limped closer, stunned by what he had seen: his second wife tried to go after his daughter, and grandchildren, but it was his second eldest daughter who withstood the worst of it with her blood. You coldly stared at your father, disappointed in him. Your blood stained your outer gown, and dripping blood trickled on the floor. Daemon, Rhaenyra, Rhaenys and Corys were quick to surround you. Daemon holding you softly, already looking at the wound you suffered.

The room falls silent; then everyone leaves for the night.

Aemond steps forward and, despite the grievous injury to his face, shows no ounce of remorse for what he did. “Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye... but I gained a dragon.”

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The next morning daemon sat across from you, as the maester sowed your shoulder and tried his hardest to mend the wound. Daemon was furious at you, for putting yourself in harms way. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“And then what? Let alicent hurt sweet luke? Let her cut out his eye?”

“You got hurt!”

You scoff, “i’ll live.”

Daemon sighs, “Come back to dragonstone with us, with me, Kostilus.” Please.

@just-some-random-blogger LOOK HANNAH, I DID ITTT 🫂

it is open to a part 2 if people want it (i didnt realize til now that theres barely any daemon x reader moments)

explore post. masterlist.

please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. <3

© mrscarpenter, 2025.

[aninipanin1]

How about Young manager with ADHD (continuously gets lost within Blue Lock, interrupts Ego using the PA system (accidentally) about trivial things, misplaces objects, rather naive etc),,, lol

LOST SHEEP

Notes: I personally do not have ADHD and my knowledge about it is quite small, so please forgive me if I misrepresent it here! I do not have any intentions of doing so, and if I do make some mistakes, please let me know! I am genuinely interested in being much more knowledgeable about this topic. Thank you!

"Y/n-chan...? What are you doing there..?"

Hiori asked, blinking at the rather bizarre scene in front of him. The midfielder just finished his daily training routines when he stepped inside of the laundry room to place his laundry basket.

But when he did walk in, he found their precious manager crouched down, hugging your legs as your eyes focused intensely at the small window of the washing machine, eyes boring at the spinning clothes inside the contraption.

In fact, you were too focused to even notice or hear the music of the other machines that alerted the room about how the process was done. You were just sitting there, staring, eyes blinking rarely, as if the rotation of the washing machine was a rare circus show to your eyes.

Everyone in the facility knew of your...tendencies and are more than understanding and ready to help you return your attention to whatever you were currently doing. Hiori was no different as he approached your crouched figure and lightly held your shoulder to take your attention back, but he made sure to be gentle enough to not scare you.

"Y/n-chan, earth to Y/n-chan. Are you okay?" He said in the softest voice he can muster, his hands supporting your crouched figure that almost lost its balance. You looked a bit dazed still from your previous episode, blinking at the sudden interruption. Turning to the blue-haired player, you tilted your head.

"Hiori-kun? What are we doing here...? What's happening?"

"Everything is fine, Y/n-chan. You just got a bit distracted with the washing machine." He explained, raising one of his hands to your hair, softly patting it in a comforting manner. He guided you up from your position and helped with the laundry that had long been done.

"Oh, I didnt notice that the rest were done..." you said in realization, looking at the washing machine with wide eyes. Hiori, who could not help himself, pinched one of your cheeks.

"Its fine, let's just get the rest of the laundry and hang it up, yeah?"

'Geez, she's too cute to be even real...' he inwardly gushed.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" Ego said, glaring at a worried Anri the moment he received the news. Apparently, you have been missing for more than an hour now, with no one from any stratum knowing where you were or even seeing you pass by.

"I'm a little worried. We all know how she gets when she's super distracted."

Ego sighed, rubbing his temple and not even adjusting his glasses that fell off the bridge of his nose. Out of everyone in there, he knew, especially how you can get. Being the one you always worked alongside with, there were times when you would be too focused on something trivial like a moving object or a rather miniscule detail that you would end up forgetting everything you were currently and supposed to be doing.

Now, most of the time, he encourages this. Ego cannot count how many times you ended up helping him and the players as a whole because your fixations on even the most minute of details always ended up being the root cause of a problem.

Hence, why, starting then, he always trusted your mini hyperfixations, no matter how dumb it may sound. You were naive, yes, but you are also a genius, something most people around you know of. So, early on, Ego trusted these said instincts and fixations and revolving them into something that would benefit everybody.

However, there are times like these where those hyperfixations end up disadvantageous. Somehow, you always get lost in the worst times in the worst places possible. Once, the whole facility literally had to work together in order to find you, only for Niko to find you crawling around the storage room near the cafeteria, chasing a ladybug that got your attention while you tried to find your way around the facility again.

There was no time for that kind of thing, however, seeing as to how the day after tomorrow was the last games for the Neo Egoist League, and the staff desperately needed to arrange everything and anything under the sun to make sure the games and livestream are all smooth sailing.

And, they definitely needed you, the overall manager of the teams, there.

"What do we do, Ego-san?"

"I'll look around in my cameras. Try to find her in the usual spot and rooms she crawls and runs on, or those rooms that have a lot of things she can fidget with." He sighed, feeling so done with everything that happened that day.

"Okay. I'll ask help from the rest of the staff."

Just as they were about to start looking for you though, the PA system was suspiciously turned on.

"Huh? It's not even 12 in the noon yet."

Anri said, confused, but all their questioning were answered when they heard the loud feedback of the mic before hearing small scratches and fidgeting noises in the mix. There were even times when they heard some buttons being pushed about. Ego sighed again, but it felt more like a breath of relief.

"That's her. Get that problem child and bring her here." Ego said, spinning his chair to face the cameras. And would you know it, when he went back through the CCTV cameras' previous footages, he saw you in the PA room, fidgeting with the buttons of the system. If he were to be honest, he felt a huge sigh of relief that you were not doing anything that may have harmed you of sort.

After a few minutes, Anri opened the door to his office but alongside her was Don Lorenzo who was smirking as he held you by the scruff of your jacket. Carrying you like a lost kitten, while you only blinked at the predicament you were in, constantly asking Anri about what you were supposed to do again and just babbling stories to Lorenzo and Anri.

"The lost sheep is here." He said, bringing you on the ground as carefully as he could, nodding along to whatever you said about how microphones actually worked and how you were just curious and wanted to experiment if your knowledge and hypothesis were actually real or whatever your mind was thinking about currently.

"Y/n." Ego said a bit sternly, making you stop talking as you looked at the man.

"Try to bring someone with you when you go on your little adventures sometimes." He said before turning his swivel chair once again to face the many monitors, turning his back to you.

"Okay, Ego-san!" You cheered happily, not even bothered about what had just transpired as you went back to your notebook to continue writing and working.

'This girl is going to be the death of me. This is why I don't want kids.' Ego thought, shaking his head.

"Rin-kun. Have you seen Mr. Boba?"

"Hah?"

Rin said, his usual frown in his face. But, this was more of a frown of confusion. He knew you had the habit of naming normal objects with names you found either fitting or adorable, by your standards of course. So, when you approached the striker about a supposed 'Mr. Boba,' he had no idea what the hell you were even looking for.

"Mr. Boba! He has tons of dots that's why he's Mr. Boba." You insisted, your face in a frown because you can't find what you were looking for at all and it was starting to thin your patience a bit.

"Look, I don't know what your Mr. Boba is. What even is it? Is it a hairpin of a boba, or a keychain?" Rin asked. He really did want to help you find Mr. Boba, but you were not exactly helping your case as you kept insisting Mr. Boba was Mr. Boba.

That was until Karasu and Shidou entered the field that helped him and you.

"Y/n-chan! Hi! Why are you sad?!" Shidou asked as he jumped to hug you, before frowning himself, not liking that you were clearly upset by the look at the frown on your face.

"What's wrong, Y/n-chan?" Karasu added, patting your hair.

"Did Rinrin over here make you sad? I'll beat him up for you if you want, Y/n-cha-"

"Shut the fuck up, lukewarm idiot. I didn't do crap." Rin intercepted Shidou, feeling the veins on his head pop.

"No, no, Shidou-san. I just can't find Mr. Boba. What do I do? I need him." The frown on your face deepened into a pout. Karasu was confused as hell who was this Mr. Boba you were talking about. He turned to Rin, who only glared at him.

"I dont know who the hell her Mr. Boba is."

But, Shidou seemed to understand who your Mr. Boba was as the grin on his face widened and he pulled your phone out from your jacket pocket and extended it to your hand.

"Mr. Boba!" You cheered happily at the phone.

"Silly Y/n-chan. It was in your pocket all along!" Shidou said as he pinched your cheeks and stretching it. Meanwhile, Karasu and Rin were just left confused to the side, wondering how the hell was a phone comparable to a boba.

"That's Mr. Boba? What the hell. I don't see it." Karasu commented, but Shidou only stuck his tongue out at both of them.

"You all are blind losers. Can't you see the phonecase design? It has black circles in the bottom and since its a clear case, you can see the (f/c) of the phone! So its like boba." Shidou explained, pointing out the small design of the phone that somehow made it look like a boba in both your and his eyes.

"Yeah! Like Shidou-san said!" You cheered as you hugged the male, thanking him sweetly for helping you find your Mr. Boba.

"I'm surrounded by idiots." Rin said, facepalming as Karasu just laughed.

"Shut the hell up, Rin-rin! You can't say that to Y/n-chan!!!"

"Who said I was also talking about her?"

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Since everyone in the Blue Lock facility found out about your disorder, they became much more protective of you overall.

You are waiting in line for food? No, youre not. Everyone is letting you get your food first.

You have bad time management? They'd help with that. They'll be your personal alarm clock.

You are feeling so bored and want to fidget with something? They'd let you play with their hands while they listened to Ego's damn lectures.

It's all about maintaining your attention span yet enabling you to become a better person as a whole. To improve your mental health and also make you feel that you are more than your disorder.

But, of course, they can't help but spoil you every once in a while. No biggie!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

bath. l Joel Miller

Summary: Joel is immobilized and giving you a hard time

Warnings:  nothing much, some intimacy, shared bath, Ellie wants to get rid of Joel, boring conversations

A/N: it's something before something, so it's boring. it doesn't contribute much. if you want to support my tired mind, feel free to . kisses

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

A broken collarbone wasn't what Joel expected. When the doctor at the clinic in Jackson, where you took him the next day, told him that he would be immobilized for a few weeks, Joel just sighed heavily. He was put in a sling and told to take care of himself so that the bone would heal properly. 

It was humiliating.

Even when you left the clinic together and you took his left hand in yours, he didn't feel any better.

"I'm useless now." he mumbled, watching you choose apples and vegetables for dinner.

"Not at all." you replied calmly. "You'll just rest now. See how good it will do you."

Where did you get that optimistic belief? Joel had no idea. He was glad that your argument hadn't affected your relationship, because his head was telling him all the tragic scenarios, but now he was dependent on others for help. And worst of all, he couldn't help you,

You were the one who brought the box of food home. And then you hung the laundry out in the warm spring sun. You made dinner, and Joel...

"Can you take him somewhere?" Ellie rushed into the kitchen for the third day, a blush covering her cheeks. "He's unbearable!"

"Please, have mercy on him." you sighed. "This is the first time since..."

"He just came asking if I did my homework!" Ellie rolled her eyes and raised her hands in despair. "I'm not eight! Can we abandon him somewhere? In the forest, for example?"

You looked at her with amusement. "Of course not! But this is new to him. You know he doesn't go on patrol now, that he can't do much in the stables either."

"So you're sacrificing me?"

"Hey! I can't drag him around with me forever, he's an adult."

Ellie folded her arms across her chest and looked at you with satisfaction. "Maybe he's getting on your nerves too, huh?"

"That's not... That's not true!"

But sometimes it was like that. Joel was looking for something to do, something he could do with one hand. When he tried to help you with the laundry, it took longer than usual. Things weren't going his way at the stables either and when you went to visit him there, you saw how furious he was. Even Tommy washed his hands and didn't want to come near him.

"Fine." you finally sighed "I'll take care of him. He won't follow you around anymore."

The girl's face lit up. "I'm sure you'll have a great time!"

You didn't know if she was joking or serious.

You found Joel in the bedroom where he had been struggling with his shirt for a few minutes. He was already irritated enough and when you stood in front of him to help unbutton it, he only mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Don't pout like that." you said, smiling "That won't help you."

"Ellie already complained about me?" you nodded "I just wanted to..."

"I know, and she knows it too. Don't think about it now." You carefully took off his shirt, noticing how he winced when you helped him free his arm. "I'll draw you a bath."

"I can do it myself."

"Let me take care of you, Joel." you murmured, kissing his pouty lips.

This was amazing. A completely different level of sensation and pleasure. The bathroom was filled with steam and the pleasant scent of lavender. He could feel your body behind him, your legs were on his sides, and his back was resting on your chest. Joel closed his eyes in pleasure. You slowly washed his hair, massaging his scalp carefully. This made him turn into a purring mess, which he clearly liked.

"When was the last time someone really took care of you, huh?" you chuckled as a soft growl escaped his chest.

"I can't remember. You take care of me, don't you?"

"As much as you let me. Close your eyes." you poured a cup of warm water over his hair to rinse off the shampoo. "You should use this time, rest, get some sleep..."

His hand slid up your calf. "I feel useless." he mumbled. "Like I'm a fucking cripple or something."

"Nobody thinks of you like that." you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his temple. "Sometimes you're just a pain in the ass. Joel!" he squeezed your calf harder and you jumped. "Stop it, or I'll forget you're hurt!"

You both fell silent for a moment, soaking up this intimate time. These were special moments, you wanted to have them just for yourselves, because they made you feel that what you felt, that you were - was real. Only his voice, quiet but deep, tore you from your reverie.

"Do you remember the first time you hugged me?"

"Yes, I remember."

"I would never have dared to dream of being with you like I am now... I was convinced that I would lose you. It scared me. I didn't remember what it was like to have someone so close. I was sure that when you saw what I was like, you would run away."

You ran your fingers through his wet hair. You remembered exactly how tense Joel was then. You were sure that he would push you away, but he didn't. He just patted you awkwardly on the back as if he wasn't sure if he was doing it right. 

"I was scared too..." you said quietly, glad that Joel couldn't see your face. "I haven't done this in a long time... And you were... Yourself. I saw how you were to Ellie, but I was a stranger to you."

His hand found yours, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "You were the best thing that happened to us, really. And certainly to me. But... You never told me."

"About what?"

"How did you even end up there? You said you were with a group, then you were left alone, but nothing more."

He felt it immediately. Your body tensed, you took a deep breath.

"This isn't a good time, you know. It's not even important."

"But-"

"We should get out, you know. I'll make dinner, you must be hungry."

Joel didn't protest. You could see the consternation on his face, questions swirling in his eyes, but he didn't want to push you. That was wonderful about him, he didn't push, he just waited until someone was ready to talk. 

It was the second time he asked you about it, and you dodged it again. Joel understood that no one wanted to talk about difficult and painful things, but he had a strange feeling that nothing good had happened to you. And that broke his heart.

"Tommy asked me today if I would go on the next patrol with Sam and Anthony." You said as you both sat down on the couch after dinner, and you reached for the book you were currently reading together.

"I was supposed to go with them." Joel noticed.

"I know, but I thought... After that last trip for supplies, I didn't go anywhere further than the beaten patrol paths. It could be fun."

Joel didn't think it would "be fun," but he knew that you cared about feeling active and important again. He talked to Shane, he knew that your joint patrols were peaceful, but there Walsh kept an eye on you. And now?

"If that's what you want." He finally said and saw the smile on your face. "Just be careful."

"I always am." You opened the book and glanced at the next chapter. "Alright, let's get back to our Bennet sisters. I really liked them."

Your calm voice soon filled the living room, but it didn't reach Joel's mind at all. He was still considering your words, strange fears starting to churn under his skin. 

If it weren't for that damned arm...

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[revelboo]

Revel, this is very important (Atleast to us-). Me and my friend have both been reading Everything is Alright and we both agree on something, we were hoping that you could make Starscream a Girl dad, and make the first sparkling a girl. Only if you want to though and don't have any plans, we'd be alright if you don't do this too. We both really love and enjoy your writing, and check everyday for new updates from you. <3 Also, considering this is a request, If you don't mind and it isn't too pressuring, could we please have updates on the Brainstorm and Chromedome/Rewind fics?

Sure! I didn’t have a plan yet for Star’s kid so that works. I’ll try to update Chromedome/Rewind, Tailgate/Cyclonus, Sunder, Brainstorm, and Metroplex if I can today

Everything Is Alright Pt 123

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “If I was in charge, we’d have conquered this miserable mudball already and crushed the Autobots,” Starscream says, lip curling and you freeze. “The Constructicons already have a refinery going, mining is in full swing. But we’d be much further ahead if you hadn’t let those disgusting Insecticons just scurry away. I’ve said that those little savages need to outfitted with mode locks and tracking implants they can’t just remove themselves.” You’ve heard Star’s side of the war. That they were fighting for freedom and to overthrow a corrupt senate, but this is the first time he’s mentioned conquering your world and it leaves you cold inside. Because was that his intention all along? Whispering to you at night whole knowing he was going to destroy everything and not even caring?

• “What do you mean about conquering Earth?” You ask and Soundwave tenses as your emotions begin to build. Glares at Starscream to stop, but the Seeker is on a roll, secure in the knowledge that Megatron can’t hurt him too badly now. Not looking at you to realize you’re upset. ‘The only value in this world is the energon Shockwave seeded millennia ago,’ Starscream says. “The only value? This is my world. My home.” And you’re shrugging off Soundwave’s hand to face the Seeker, little hands balled into fists. Furious and he’s never seen you angry like this before. “What do you to do to worlds you’ve conquered?”

• Rant faltering at the edge in your voice, Starscream sees Megatron smirk and realizes he’s just made a mistake. Wings dropping, he turns back to you and forces a smile. “Nothing to worry yourself over, little one. Our home is Cybertron. Yours now, too.” And your eyes narrow, looking from him to the other two and back as your face reddens and your chin lifts. Why are you so upset? You’ll love Cybertron. You’ll be with him and your sparkling.

• “I asked what you do to the worlds you conquer,” you repeat. “What’s left after you’re done? Is anything left?” Hates that the upset edge in your voice bothers him and knows it’s the bond pulling him to you, urging him to soothe you, but Megatron has no intention of interfering. Enjoying watching the SIC struggling for words, wings flicking as he finally catches on that he’s screwed up. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say, tossing your hands up and striding away, though there’s nowhere you can really go trapped on the berth. Watches Soundwave drift after you, touching your arm and getting his hand slapped. And Starscream is glaring at him like this is all his fault.

• “Typically,” Megatron growls and you turn to glare at him, unsettled by his lazy smile. “Worlds our war spills onto don’t survive.” Breath catching, you wish he was mass displaced so you could slap him. Actually right now, you want to slap all three of them. There has to be a way to keep your idiots from razing your home to ash with their stupid war. They’re bigger and stronger than you, but they need you don’t they? You’d gotten the impression from Star that fully bonding takes ‘til death do us part to the most literal extent. Which means you’ve got leverage to get your way, even if it’s absolutely awful to even consider holding your life over their heads by threatening yourself just to try and get them to behave.. “Though, I might be convinced to spare this world. With the proper motivation.”

• And he can feel the shift in your emotions, the cold calculation. Doesn’t like it one bit, either. Scheming and manipulation isn’t your strength. Curling his arms around you and tugging you back into him when you try to shrug him off, Soundwave tries to pin down exactly what you’re thinking, but as always your mind is too chaotic for him. But he can’t help but be worried. He’d played kingmaker for Megatron, started playing the same game for you, positioning you so you’re safest, but if you’re also playing? It complicates things. Needs to fully bond you as soon as possible so he can better protect you, be able to get a better grasp on your thoughts. Except. There’s the problem of your lifespan. If it was only his life, he’d take it, claim you, but his cassettes need him. Depend on him. And so do you. For the first time he can remember, his path forward isn’t clear to him. What he wants and needs at odds with reason.

Previous

[hyunjuenthusiast]

ITS ME AGAIN😎

need a jealous!hyun-ju x fem!reader who gets a bit too close with gi-hun, ANDD reader ends up getting edged and fingered roughly by jealous!hyun-ju as reader tried to quiet down in the bathroom??

TYSM I LVOE YOUR FICS🫶

HEYYYY👋🏻 Are you becoming a regular?!😂 Let me see what I can do!

BEAUTIFUL ENVY

Summary: During the games, you become close with Hyun-ju, not realizing the envy that builds inside of her when you start also getting close to Gi-Hun.

Pairing: Jealous!Hyun-ju x Femreader!

Warnings: SMUT and jealousy.

Not an adult? Don't read! 🔞

Hyun-ju grits her teeth as she hears you laugh along with Gi-Hun's group. Just because they decided to work together didn't mean that you could just leave her.

That thought made Hyun-ju tense. You weren't together. She had no right to be feeling this way. But the sight of you smiling at someone else after you had been so kind to her, made her want to strangle Gi-Hun.

Looking back over at you, her blood boils. Gi-Hun was offering you his gimbap. He'll no.

She was walking towards you before she could even think. You looked up at her as she stood in front of you and Gi-Hun, the rest of the group talking about random things, not really paying attention to Hyun-ju.

"Hyun-" You go to question, only to be silenced when she holds out her gimbap as well. The look she was giving Gi-Hun made you tense where you sat.

With both of them offering you their food, you didn't know what to do. "Um, thank you both, but I'm not that hungry!" You say, letting out a nervous chuckle that only Gi-Hun returns.

You give Hyun-ju a soft smile, trying to ease whatever tension this was. You can see her relax a little.

She sits on the other side of you. Young-il asked Gi-Hun about what he thought the next game would be, and you listened closely, leaning in closer.

You heard her scoff before you felt her hand on your forearm. She pulled you a bit closer to her, leaning down close to your ear. "He doesn't know anything about the next game. He was wrong about the second game. We shouldn't trust him." She whispers.

You frown. You did trust Gi-Hun. He helped everyone in red light, green light. He's voted to go home, which is more than Hyun-ju has done. She voted to stay once after all.

"He's not untrustworthy-" you try to say until you notice her soft glare, making you shrink a bit into yourself. "You can't be sure of someone's intentions, sweet girl, especially in here." She explains softly. You knew she was right. But that means you also couldn't trust her.

She seems to know what you were thinking, and you see her eyes soften. "You know I'd never betray you, don't you? Not after what happened to Young-Mi." She whispers, making you look down in guilt.

"I know." You whisper back softly, your breath hitching as she reaches to hold your hand. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Not any of the players, not any of the guards, not even yourself." She says. Your eyebrows furrow for a moment, not really knowing what she means by not letting you hurt yourself, but she doesn't clarify.

You made a mistake. That's all. You wouldn't leave her. Not for him. He's old enough to be your father. But the way you clung to him during lights out...

She clenches her fists. As soon as the guards shut it down and announced it was time for bed, she grabbed your wrist, making you get out of your bed. Not enough to hurt, but enough were you knew she was serious. You question her with your gaze, but she looks straight ahead, her pace much faster than yours.

She knocks on the door, and a triangle guard opens the little window to see what she wants. "She got her period. Would you please let us through so I can help her clean her pants?" She asks making your eyes widen. You weren't on your period.

When the window shuts, she quickly takes off her jacket, tying it around your waist. Knocking again, this time, the guard lets you through.

She was smart. The guard checked your backside when you walked past him.

As soon as the woman's restroom door shut, Hyun-ju rushed and pushed you against a wall, her touch firm, making you gasp.

"W-What are you doing?" You ask, the look in her eyes changing from firm...to hunger.

"You let him hold you." She whispers close to your ear. "W-what? Wh-" She inturupts, "Gi-Hun. Player 456. You let that asshole touch you." She sneers. You have to crane your neck to look up at her. "I-I don't underst-" you try to say.

"You will." Hyun-ju says, her eyes dark. One of her hands travels down your body, stopping just under the line of your bra. "What color is it, baby?" She asks in a whisper.

You give her a confused look. "What color is your bra?" She says, one of her fingers tracing where your nipple is.

Your eyes widen, but you feel the need to answer her. "P-Purple" you whisper, hearing her inhale sharply.

"Has he seen it? Gi-Hun?" She asks, starting to lift your shirt up gently. "N-No of course not, w-why would-" She shuts you up with a kiss. Her lips are softer than what you would have thought, and moist.

"I see the way he looks at you, baby." She says as she breaks the kiss. "And you give him those sweet puppy eyes, don't you?" She asks, lifting your shirt over your head, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of your breasts.

"I don't." You whisper. "You do, baby. Don't lie. But that's okay, I'll fix it." She says, leaning down and kissing the edge of your cleavage. "Mmm, so soft." She mumbles against the supple flesh of your right breast.

"What do you mean? Fix what?" You ask, a little breathless already. You can feel her smirk. "I'll make sure you only look at me." She says, keeping her eyes on yours as she rips your bra.

You gasp, making her chuckle darkly. She throws the now useless peice of cloth on the bathroom floor, returning her hands to your chest, squeezing.

Hyun-ju leans back down, waisting no time with taking your nipple into her mouth. The cold bathroom, in contrast to her hot mouth, makes you shiver.

You gasp as she switches to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. "H-Hyun-ju we can't" you whimper, making her chuckle. She's already kissing her way down your stomach, getting on her knees in front of you.

Faster than you can think, she has your pants pulled down, looking at your matching purple underwear. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby." She whispers, starting to kiss up your thigh.

She gently kisses your clit through your panties, making you gasp. "I can see how wet you are, Y/n. You've soaked your panties." She whispers, looking up at you hungrily. You don't protest as she slides them down next.

"Oh baby..." She coos, looking at your pussy. "Your little clit is swollen...do you want me to make it all better? Hmm?" She asks, making you whine.

You nod.

That clearly didn't satisfy her because the next second, you feel a small slap to your pussy. "Use your words like a good girl." She says firmly. Holy fuck.

"Y-Yes...please make it better!" You whimper. She gives you a smile before you feel her tongue on your clit.

She teases you just a little before reaching up and putting two of her fingers inside you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight. You can take another one, can't you?" She says, her tone mocking. When you whine, shaking your head, she adds another anyway, giving you a nice stretch.

Having both her fingers and her tongue feels like heaven. Pure heaven. But that thought quickly leaves your mind when you feel her change the pace.

You could hear the wet sound of your pussy as her fingers set an unforgivable pace. "H-Hyun-ju!" You squel. "T-To much p-please slow down!" You moan.

You look down, watching as she pulls away from your clit, smirking.

"To bad." She says, fingerings you a little harder. "Oh fuck!" You scream, the back of your head against the wall.

"Do you think Gi-Hun could make you feel this good? Hmm?" She asks, her eyes sharp. You quickly shake your head, which makes her stop.

"What did I say about using your words?" She sneers, taking her fingers away. "No no please don't stop!" You beg, your hips lifting trying to get her back.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" She asks, her lips kissing the skin just above your clit.

You go to nod, but remember her words. "Yes!" You say, making her tikt her head. "Tsk tsk tsk, say it properly, baby. Tell me you'll be a good girl for me." She commands.

"I'll be a good girl for you!" You say quickly, making her chuckle once more. "Only for me?" She asks, and you nod quickly. "Yes yes only for you Hyun-ju!"

She puts her fingers back inside you, setting another brutal pace. "Are you going to cum for me?" She asks.

"Yes yes! I'm so close!" You whimper. Not expecting her to pull away again, but she does.

"I don't think so. Not until I know you're sorry. You hurt my feelings with the way you looked at Gi-Hun. How do I know you won't let him touch you again? Hmm?" She says, licking her fingers clean of you.

You almost cry. "I am sorry, Hyun-ju. I'm so sorry, I only want you!"

She pretends to think, her thumb reaches up, keeping you on edge by rubbing tight circles on your already overstimulated clit.

"If I see you even look in his direction, I'll have you over my knee, no matter if we're in the bathroom or not." She says, making you nod.

This time, when you feel her fingers and that familiar pressure building in your tummy, she doesn't pull away. "Cum for me, pretty girl." She says, her voice sending vibrations through your core.

She stimulates you through your climax, making sure not a second of pleasure is wasted. "Such a good girl for me." She whispers, her head getting awfully close to your core.

"W-what are y-" you can't finish your sentence as she licks into you. "Mmm let me clean you up, baby." She says.

After she helps you put your shirt and pants back on, she picks up the discarded bra, putting it in her pocket. "Come on, sweet girl, you need to rest for tomorrow." She says, her tone now soft.

She holds your hand on the walk back to your bunk. She even kisses your forehead before she walks back to her own.

You don't notice that she makes a stop first.

Hyun-ju walks up to player 456's bed, leaving a torn purple fabric next to his shoes.

Stay away from her girl Gi-Hun✋🏻😏

[w1w2]

The Dance We Share

Nakamura Kazuha x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 12k

Synopsis: A new member joins an already successful girl group, bringing talent, determination, and a history that threatens to disrupt the group’s harmony.

Requested by Anon

Notes: I got a bit carried away with this.. I guess I'm in my angs era.

Also, to the Anon that have requested that, please let me know if you like it

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The journey to this moment had been a whirlwind of auditions, sleepless nights, and quiet moments of doubt. Y/N had pushed herself harder than ever before, driven by an unrelenting desire to make her dreams come true. There were days when she felt invincible, buoyed by the promise of what could be, and nights when she doubted everything, the sacrifices, the exhaustion, the relentless grind. It had all led her here, to this practice room, standing on the precipice of something she had both longed for and feared.

As Y/N stepped into the room for the first time as an official member of LE SSERAFIM, a mixture of excitement and apprehension bubbled beneath her calm exterior. She was no stranger to performing, to auditions, to high-stakes environments, but this was different. This wasn’t just a group, it was a phenomenon. They had already carved their place in the industry, and now, she was expected to do the impossible: step in, catch up, and somehow shine without overshadowing.

She wasn’t just filling a spot, she was filling Garam’s spot.

The name carried weight, not just within the group but with fans, critics, and the media. Garam’s sudden departure had left a hole in LE SSERAFIM’s lineup, a gap that fans had fiercely debated how to fill, if it should even be filled at all. Social media had been abuzz with speculation when her addition was announced.

Was she the right choice? Would she fit in? Could she live up to the expectations?

These questions, along with a litany of comparisons, would undoubtedly follow her every move.

It was daunting, suffocating even, but Y/N had resolved to prove herself worthy, not just to the world, but to her new groupmates.

The atmosphere in the practice room was warm but tinged with careful politeness. Y/N could feel the subtle tension that came with welcoming a new member. They were trying, but it wasn’t effortless yet.

Chaewon, ever the responsible leader, was the first to step forward. Her smile was encouraging, her tone genuine but measured, as if she were balancing the roles of leader and mediator.

“Welcome to the family,” she said, her voice kind yet carrying the unspoken understanding that Y/N had a lot to prove.

Sakura followed, offering soft words of encouragement in Japanese that brought a flicker of comfort to Y/N’s nerves. Yunjin added a playful comment about how they could commiserate over the grueling trainee experience. Even Eunchae, the group’s youngest, greeted her with a bright, bubbly enthusiasm that made Y/N feel lighter, if only for a moment.

They were kind, supportive even, but Y/N could sense the invisible wall. They were a tight-knit team, and she was the outsider. For now.

And then there was her.

Kazuha stood apart, her presence understated yet impossible to ignore. She offered a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was none of the warmth or easy grace that lit up her face in the photos and videos Y/N had studied before joining. Her expression was carefully neutral, her eyes flitting to Y/N for the briefest second before darting away, as if the mere act of looking at her was too much to bear.

Y/N’s chest tightened.

She had prepared herself for this moment, told herself it wouldn’t matter. It had been a year since they had seen each other, a year since they had been anything to each other. And yet, standing here now, with Kazuha just a few feet away, every memory they had shared surged back to the surface like a tidal wave.

The studio smelled faintly of sweat and polished wood, but in her mind, it was the faint perfume of the ballet studio that came rushing back. The soft padding of pointe shoes, the music filling the air, the sound of Kazuha’s laugh as they perfected a lift. Late-night conversations whispered over cooling cups of tea. The quiet promises that had once felt unbreakable.

And the heartbreak.

It was a pain so sharp it had felt like it might split her in two. The suffocating ache of watching Kazuha walk away after Y/N had laid her heart bare. The way she hadn’t even looked back.

“Zuha,” she had called her back then, her voice soft, affectionate, laden with trust.

But that was a lifetime ago. A lot changed during these months. 

Now, they were strangers. Or at least, that was what they were pretending to be.

The flash of pain was gone as quickly as it had come, buried beneath the professional mask Y/N had perfected during her years of training. She couldn’t afford to let emotions cloud her now. She was here to work, to perform, to prove that she belonged.

When the first practice session began, Y/N threw herself into the choreography with everything she had. She followed the beats, absorbed every direction, and moved with a precision born of determination. The music was loud, the mirrors reflected every step, and the members exchanged approving glances.

But Kazuha kept her distance. She spoke only when necessary, her words clipped and professional. She avoided eye contact altogether.

The room was filled with music and movement, but to Y/N, it felt like they were dancing around a silent truth neither of them dared to face.

For the rest of the day, Y/N focused on the steps, on the voices of her teammates, on the beat of the music, anything but the shadow of the girl she once knew.

Anything but Kazuha.

The first days were always the hardest, and for Y/N, it was no exception.

The soft hum of music played in the background as the group gathered in the spacious practice room. The mirrored walls reflected each member, moving with synchronized precision, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel the stark contrast of her presence among them. She was hyperaware of every glance, every whispered comment exchanged in the corners, though the others had been nothing but kind.

Kazuha stood at the far end of the room, tying her sneakers with meticulous care. She hadn’t said much since the initial greeting. Their interactions had been limited to curt nods and brief, professional exchanges. And yet, the weight of Kazuha’s silence pressed down on Y/N like a tangible force, suffocating and inescapable.

As they worked through the day’s routine, the tension between them became harder to ignore. Their gazes met in fleeting moments, the kind of accidental eye contact that was too brief to hold meaning but too frequent to be unintentional. Each time, Kazuha would quickly look away, leaving Y/N wondering if she was imagining the flicker of something —guilt, regret, or even longing—in her dark eyes.

“Y/N, you’re picking up the choreography quickly,” Chaewon said, breaking the silence as the group took a short water break.

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, her lips curving into a polite smile.

“It’s impressive,” Sakura added, her tone warm. “You fit in well.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the encouragement, but her mind was elsewhere. Despite the praise, she couldn’t shake the unease that clung to her like a second skin. She stole a glance at Kazuha, who was quietly stretching in the corner, her movements fluid and precise.

Y/N’s fingers tightened around her water bottle as the memories began to resurface.

The ballet studio was a place of dreams, a sacred haven where artistry met discipline. The air always carried the faint scent of resin and effort, a combination of polished wooden floors, sweat, and ambition. For Y/N, the studio had been a second home, a place where she could lose herself in the rhythm of movement, the poetry of dance. It wasn’t just the physicality of ballet that she loved but the way it demanded her soul, her entire being.

That summer had started like any other, grueling practices, blistered feet, and a fierce determination to perfect every pirouette, every arabesque. But then Kazuha arrived, and everything changed.

They first met during a partnering class at the prestigious summer intensive. Y/N had been scanning the room when her gaze landed on a girl who moved like liquid light.

Kazuha Nakamura. 

Her name was whispered in admiration by the other students, her reputation as a prodigy preceding her. Kazuha was an enigma, her movements were graceful yet powerful, her presence quiet yet commanding.

When the instructor paired them together, Y/N felt a jolt of nervous excitement. Kazuha was tall and poised, her every step brimming with elegance. Y/N couldn’t help but feel slightly self-conscious next to her. But the moment they began to move, everything clicked.

Their connection was instantaneous, as if their bodies instinctively understood one another. Y/N’s playful, expressive energy filled the spaces Kazuha’s disciplined movements left behind, creating a harmony that stunned even their instructors. In the span of a few weeks, they had gone from mere dance partners to a team that everyone admired.

“You two are like magnets,” their instructor had once commented, watching as they nailed a complex lift. “Completely different energies, but when you’re together, it just works.”

And it wasn’t just their dancing that brought them closer.

Outside of practice, Y/N and Kazuha were inseparable. They often stayed late at the studio, the overhead lights dimming as the evening stretched into night. Their conversations drifted from dance to life, their voices echoing in the empty hall.

Kazuha spoke with quiet passion about her dreams. Her family in Japan, her love for ballet, her desire to push herself further than anyone thought possible. Her eyes would light up as she described the feeling of losing herself in movement, as if the world disappeared and all that remained was the music.

“You make it sound magical,” Y/N had said once, lying on her back on the studio floor.

“It is magical,” Kazuha had replied softly, her head tilted to the side as she stared at the ceiling. “It’s like… you’re telling a story without words. That’s what I love most about it. It’s honest.”

It was in moments like those that Y/N found herself falling.

At first, it had been admiration, a deep respect for Kazuha’s artistry and discipline. But as the days turned into weeks, her feelings began to shift. She found herself drawn to the way Kazuha’s lips curved into a small smile when she nailed a particularly difficult routine, or the way her laugh would break through her composed exterior when Y/N teased her.

Kazuha, for all her quiet elegance, had a surprisingly goofy side. She wasn’t afraid to try ridiculous dance moves when they were alone, their laughter filling the empty studio as they dared each other to push the limits of their creativity.

“I bet you can’t do this,” Y/N had said one night, attempting an exaggerated, clumsy leap.

Kazuha had raised an eyebrow, her competitive streak flashing through. “Oh, I can do it. Better than you, actually.”

Moments like those were the foundation of their bond. It was easy, effortless, until it wasn’t.

The confession happened on one of those golden evenings when the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the studio floor. They had just finished practicing, their bodies aching from hours of work. The room was bathed in hues of amber and pink, the kind of light that made everything feel softer, dreamier.

Y/N had been pacing for the better part of an hour, building up the courage to say the words that had been burning on her tongue for weeks. Kazuha sat cross legged on the floor, oblivious, carefully unwrapping the tape from her toes.

“Zuha,” Y/N started, her voice trembling slightly.

Kazuha looked up, her expression curious. “Yeah?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. She had rehearsed this moment a dozen times in her head, but now that it was here, the words felt heavy, unwieldy. Taking a deep breath, she decided to just say it.

“I think I’m falling for you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Kazuha’s eyes widened, her hands freezing mid-motion. She stared at Y/N, her expression unreadable, as if she were trying to process what she had just heard. Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out.

Y/N felt her stomach drop.

“I…” Kazuha finally began, her voice hesitant. She stood slowly, taking a small step back. “I can’t… I don’t know if I can do this.”

It wasn’t a rejection, not explicitly, but it felt like one. The words cut through Y/N like shards of glass. Her chest tightened as she fought to keep her composure.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said quickly, forcing a smile she didn’t feel. “I just… I needed to tell you. That’s all.”

But it wasn’t okay. Not really.

For a while, they tried to pretend nothing had changed. But the tension was there, a fragile undercurrent that neither of them acknowledged. And then, weeks later, Y/N learned the truth.

Kazuha had been offered an opportunity to train in Korea, a once in a lifetime chance to pursue her dream of becoming an idol. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Y/N, until the decision was finalized.

The day Kazuha told her was one of the worst days of Y/N’s life.

“I’m leaving,” Kazuha had said, her voice breaking slightly. “I… I got an offer to train in Korea. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Y/N stared at her, disbelief and hurt swirling in her chest. “When were you going to tell me? After you were already gone?”

Kazuha looked down, guilt written across her face. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.

“Too late for that,” Y/N said bitterly.

Kazuha’s voice wavered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I just… I need to follow this path.”

Y/N wanted to scream, to tell her that leaving wasn’t the only option. But she knew it would be futile. Kazuha had already made up her mind.

The goodbye was quiet, almost anticlimactic. There were no grand gestures, no promises to keep in touch. Just a hug that felt too short, a whispered apology that didn’t feel like enough, and then she was gone.

And Y/N was left behind, staring at the empty studio that once felt like home, wondering how someone who meant everything could walk away so easily.

“Ready to run it again?” Yunjin’s voice snapped Y/N back to reality.

She blinked, quickly pushing the memories aside. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

As the music started, Y/N threw herself into the routine, channeling every ounce of emotion into her movements. Her body moved with precision, her steps matching the beat perfectly. She couldn’t afford to falter, not now, not with Kazuha watching.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kazuha move to her position. Their movements were synchronized, but the distance between them felt like an ocean.

When the song ended, the group broke into applause. “You two have great chemistry,” Chaewon noted, her comment light but laced with meaning.

Y/N forced a smile, glancing at Kazuha. Her former partner said nothing, her expression unreadable as she turned away.

The tension between them lingered, a silent shadow that neither of them could escape. For Y/N, it was a constant reminder of what they had been and what they had lost.

The days leading up to the comeback were nothing short of punishing. Practice sessions stretched endlessly, often bleeding into the late hours of the night. The only constants were the pounding bassline of the title track, the mirrored walls reflecting their every move, and the collective effort to perfect a routine that demanded nothing less than excellence.

For Y/N, the grueling schedule was both a sanctuary and a battlefield. The sheer intensity of the practices left little room for her mind to wander. There was no time to dwell on the tension simmering between her and Kazuha when she was counting beats, perfecting angles, and ensuring that every step matched the rhythm. Yet, every practice session brought them closer, physically, emotionally, metaphorically. And no matter how focused she tried to be, no amount of precision could stop the unspoken emotions from creeping in, carving their way into the space between their movements.

The choreography was as intricate as it was demanding. It wasn’t just about hitting the right moves, it was about embodying a raw, rebellious energy. The routine thrived on synergy and fluidity, requiring the six of them to move as one.

But Y/N and Kazuha’s roles in the intro carried a different weight altogether.

The song’s opening was more than just choreography, it was a statement. The intro was designed to captivate, showcasing the dynamic contrasts within the group. Y/N and Kazuha were paired for this critical moment, their movements a duet of tension and harmony. It was a bold choice by the choreographer, one that placed them at the center of attention before the full routine even began.

“Alright, Y/N and Kazuha,” the choreographer called out, clapping her hands to draw everyone’s attention. “Let’s see the intro again. From the top.”

Y/N grabbed a quick sip of water, wiping the sweat from her brow before stepping into position. She felt the familiar twinge of nerves settle in her stomach as Kazuha approached. Her former partner carried herself with a calm, almost detached grace, her expression unreadable as always.

Kazuha moved into place, her posture flawless, her eyes focused somewhere beyond Y/N’s shoulder. Their proximity was unavoidable now, and for a moment, Y/N felt her breath hitch.

“Ready?” the choreographer asked, eyeing the pair.

They both nodded, and the music began.

As the opening beats thundered through the studio, their bodies moved instinctively. The intro was slower than the main choreography, a carefully choreographed interplay of motion and stillness that required complete focus. Y/N stepped forward, her hand outstretched, while Kazuha mirrored her with a sharp, fluid grace.

Their movements were designed to contrast Y/N’s bold, grounded energy against Kazuha’s airy, ethereal fluidity. They circled each other, their steps deliberate and precise, the tension between them palpable even in the silence between the beats.

The section culminated in a synchronized lift, Y/N’s hand finding Kazuha’s with a familiarity that startled her. Her palm was warm, steady, and for a fleeting moment, Y/N felt the years between them dissolve. Kazuha’s grip was firm yet gentle, a stark contrast to the tension that hung between them outside of practice.

Y/N hoisted Kazuha effortlessly, the lift smooth and fluid as Kazuha extended her limbs with perfect control. Their gazes met briefly before the sequence ended, the transition seamless as they broke apart and prepared to move into the main choreography.

For anyone watching, it was nothing short of breathtaking.

To Y/N, it was maddening.

There was something about the way their movements aligned so effortlessly, as if their bodies remembered something their minds refused to acknowledge. The tension that existed between them in silence seemed to vanish in motion, leaving behind a connection that felt... timeless.

When the music cut off, Y/N’s heart was pounding, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the exertion or something else entirely.

“That was perfect,” the choreographer said, her tone laced with satisfaction. “You two have incredible synergy.”

The compliment hung in the air like an echo. Y/N forced a small smile, murmuring a quiet “thank you” before retreating to the corner of the room. She grabbed her water bottle, taking a long sip as she tried to calm her racing thoughts.

For a moment, she felt Kazuha’s gaze on her, an almost imperceptible pull, as if the other girl was trying to bridge the distance between them with nothing but a look. But when Y/N turned her head, Kazuha had already turned away, her focus back on the choreographer’s instructions.

It was infuriating how composed she seemed, as if the connection they shared on the floor meant nothing to her.

But Y/N knew better.

There were cracks in Kazuha’s facade, subtle, fleeting, but there. The way her shoulders tensed when their hands brushed. The slight hesitation before they made eye contact during transitions. The way her voice softened, almost imperceptibly, when she gave Y/N instructions.

Y/N hated how easily she noticed these things, how her mind cataloged each moment like a keepsake she couldn’t discard.

“Let’s go again,” Chaewon’s voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

Y/N nodded, taking her place once more. But as the music started again, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t just dancing. They were navigating something far more complicated, something neither of them was ready to name.

And no amount of flawless execution could erase the tension simmering beneath the surface.

The group’s dynamic had been relatively smooth since Y/N joined. Everyone had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome, offering support during her transition into the group. Yet, there was one glaring exception: the quiet, uneasy tension between Y/N and Kazuha. It was subtle enough to avoid immediate scrutiny but persistent enough to raise eyebrows among the more observant members.

Chaewon was the first to pick up on it.

It was during one of their breaks, the group sprawled across the practice room in various states of exhaustion. Chaewon sat on the floor, absently scrolling through her phone while her eyes flicked toward Y/N and Kazuha. They were on opposite sides of the room, as usual.

Y/N sat with her back against the mirror, her phone in hand, though her furrowed brow and restless fingers suggested she wasn’t truly engaged. Kazuha, meanwhile, was perched on the edge of a bench, her focus entirely on adjusting the laces of her shoes. Her movements were deliberate and methodical, as if tying her sneakers was the most critical task in the world.

Chaewon leaned toward Sakura, keeping her voice low but pointed. “Something’s going on between those two.”

Sakura followed her gaze, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. “Y/N and Kazuha?”

Chaewon nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah. Have you noticed how... stiff they are around each other? It’s like they’re trying too hard to act normal.”

Sakura tilted her head, considering. “I thought they were just being professional. You know, new member, team dynamics, all that.”

Chaewon shook her head slightly. “It’s more than that. Look at them.” She gestured subtly with her chin.

Sakura’s eyes darted between the two, picking up on the details she’d initially dismissed. The way Y/N’s gaze flickered toward Kazuha for a fraction of a second before darting away. The way Kazuha’s shoulders stiffened every time Y/N shifted in her direction. It wasn’t the typical awkwardness of strangers learning to work together.

“You think it’s serious?” Sakura asked after a pause.

Chaewon exhaled quietly, leaning back against the mirror. “I don’t know, but it’s definitely not nothing.”

Sakura hummed in agreement, crossing her arms. “Should we say something?”

“Not yet,” Chaewon replied after a moment of thought. “They’re not making it anyone else’s problem yet. But if it starts affecting the group, we’ll have to step in.”

Sakura’s gaze lingered on Kazuha, who had finished tying her shoes and was now leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her expression unreadable. “You think it’s awkward ex energy?” she asked, half-joking but with a flicker of curiosity.

Chaewon smirked faintly, shaking her head. “I’m not playing detective. But whatever it is, they need to figure it out.”

“Maybe we should lock them in a room together,” Sakura said dryly.

Chaewon snorted, shooting her a sidelong glance. “Let’s try not to escalate things just yet.”

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, though Chaewon’s eyes drifted back to Y/N and Kazuha. She could feel the tension between them even from across the room, a charged undercurrent that made her uneasy. She just hoped it would sort itself out before it became a problem for the group.

For Y/N, every interaction with Kazuha felt like walking a tightrope. On the surface, they were cordial, exchanging polite words when necessary. But beneath the veneer of professionalism, there was a storm of unresolved emotions.

One moment, Y/N would catch herself watching Kazuha, her chest tightening with the remnants of affection she couldn’t quite bury. The next, the memory of their last goodbye would surface, twisting the affection into a dull ache of resentment.

Why was it so hard to let go?

It didn’t help that Kazuha was an enigma. She maintained a polite distance, never giving too much or too little. But Y/N could see the cracks in her composure, the fleeting moments when her gaze would soften, when her lips would part as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

One evening after practice, Y/N found herself lingering in the studio longer than usual, stretching out her sore muscles. She thought she was alone until she heard a soft voice behind her.

“You did well today.”

She turned to find Kazuha standing a few feet away, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. It was the first time Kazuha had spoken to her outside of practice instructions.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, her tone clipped.

There was an awkward pause. Kazuha opened her mouth as if to say more, but the words never came. Instead, she gave a small nod and walked away, leaving Y/N with a swirl of frustration and confusion.

By the end of the following week, the rest of the group had picked up on the awkward dynamic. Eunchae, ever the curious and straightforward maknae, was the first to address it, albeit clumsily.

“Unnie,” she said one afternoon, plopping down beside Y/N during a break. “Why are you and Kazuha unnie so weird with each other?”

Y/N choked on her water, her eyes widening in surprise. “Weird? We’re not weird.”

Eunchae tilted her head, unconvinced. “You don’t talk much. And when you do, it’s all… stiff.”

Before Y/N could respond, Yunjin sauntered over, grinning. “Don’t mind Eunchae. She’s just nosy.”

“I’m not nosy!” Eunchae protested.

“You kind of are,” Yunjin teased before turning to Y/N. “But she’s not wrong. You and Zuha have been... tense.”

Y/N bristled, unsure of how to respond. She hated that their tension was becoming so obvious, but what could she say? That the girl she was avoiding was also the girl who had once held her heart?

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said finally, standing up and brushing off her leggings. “We’re just adjusting. That’s all.”

Kazuha wasn’t faring much better. She kept her distance, not because she wanted to but because she didn’t know how to bridge the gap. Every time she looked at Y/N, she was reminded of the past.

She wanted to apologize, to explain, to somehow make things right. But every time she tried, the words got stuck in her throat. What could she possibly say that wouldn’t sound hollow?

One night, as she sat alone in her dorm room, she stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over Y/N’s contact. She had never deleted the number, though she hadn’t used it in over a year.

“I’m sorry. Can we talk? Let me explain.” The words sat in the message box, stark and inadequate.

With a frustrated sigh, she deleted the message and tossed her phone aside. Apologizing wouldn’t change the past. It wouldn’t erase the hurt she had caused.

For now, all she could do was focus on the work and hope that time would dull the edges of their shared pain.

The final straw came after a particularly grueling practice session. Chaewon called for a break, and while the others dispersed to grab water or collapse onto the floor, she motioned for Sakura to follow her.

“Kazuha,” Chaewon called softly, her voice cutting through the chatter.

Kazuha looked up from where she was sitting, her expression calm but guarded. “Yes, unnie?”

“Can we talk for a minute?” Chaewon asked, her tone gentle but firm.

Sakura leaned against the mirror, her arms crossed as Kazuha hesitated before nodding. The three moved to a quieter corner of the room, away from the others’ prying eyes.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N?” Chaewon asked directly, her eyes fixed on Kazuha.

Kazuha’s posture stiffened, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “What do you mean?” she said carefully, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Chaewon sighed, her expression softening. “You know what I mean. This tension between you two, it’s getting harder to ignore. It’s affecting the energy in the room.”

“We’re not asking to pry,” Sakura added, her tone calm but insistent. “But if there’s something unresolved, it’s better to deal with it now before it starts affecting the group.”

For a moment, Kazuha said nothing, her gaze dropping to the floor. She seemed to be waging an internal battle, her jaw tightening as she struggled to find the words. Finally, she exhaled a shaky breath.

“Y/N and I… we knew each other before,” she admitted quietly.

Sakura and Chaewon exchanged a glance but remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

“We were close,” Kazuha continued, her voice tinged with guilt. “Back when we were both training in ballet. She… she confessed to me.”

Chaewon’s brow furrowed slightly. “And?”

Kazuha swallowed hard. “I didn’t handle it well. I was overwhelmed, and then I got the offer to train in Korea. I left without… without really talking to her about it. I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, but looking back, I know I hurt her. Badly.”

Sakura’s expression softened, a hint of understanding in her eyes. “And now that you’re working together again, it’s bringing all of that back.”

Kazuha nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want to apologize, but… I don’t know how.”

Chaewon placed a comforting hand on Kazuha’s shoulder. “You can’t change the past, but if you’re serious about making things right, you need to be honest with her. Avoiding the issue is only making it worse for both of you.”

Kazuha nodded, though her face was shadowed with uncertainty.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Eunchae had planted herself beside Y/N, her wide eyes studying her unnie with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“You’re not yourself today,” Eunchae said, her voice light but probing.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m just tired. That’s all.”

Yunjin joined them, plopping down on the floor with a dramatic groan. “Tired or avoiding something?”

Y/N shot her a sharp look, but Yunjin’s grin was disarming. “Don’t give me that face,” she said. “It’s written all over you. Something’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N insisted, though her voice lacked conviction.

Eunchae tilted her head, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “Is it about Kazuha unnie?”

Y/N stiffened, her eyes darting toward the younger girl. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re weird around her,” Eunchae said simply.

Yunjin chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Subtle, Eunchae. Really subtle.”

Y/N sighed again, this time heavier. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Yunjin asked gently.

Y/N hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. For a moment, she considered brushing them off, but the genuine concern in their eyes made her pause. She didn’t want to unload everything, but maybe letting a little out wouldn’t hurt.

“We… have history,” Y/N admitted vaguely.

Eunchae’s eyes widened “Kinda. And it didn’t end well.”

Yunjin hummed thoughtfully. “Well, whatever happened back then, it’s obvious there’s still something between you two. Whether it’s anger, regret, or something else, it’s not going to go away unless you deal with it.”

Y/N bit her lip, unsure how to respond. Part of her knew they were right, but the thought of confronting Kazuha felt like reopening a wound that had barely begun to scar.

Later that evening, the group wrapped up practice, the exhaustion settling over everyone like a heavy fog. The mirrored walls reflected six tired faces, flushed with the effort of hours spent perfecting their routines. Slowly, the others began to gather their things, the hum of quiet conversation mixing with the rustling of bags and the clinking of water bottles.

Y/N lingered behind, her body stretched across the wooden floor as she worked through the tight ache in her legs. The solitude was welcome, a brief reprieve from the constant presence of her teammates. She needed these moments to collect herself, to push aside the day’s frustrations, most of which seemed to revolve around one person.

“Y/N.”

The sound of her name, spoken softly yet distinctly, made her freeze mid-stretch. She knew the voice instantly.

Turning slowly, she saw Kazuha standing a few feet away. The other girl’s posture was hesitant, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. There was something in her expression that Y/N couldn’t quite place, an almost fragile determination.

“What is it?” Y/N asked, her tone neutral but tinged with weariness.

Kazuha shifted her weight, her fingers fidgeting as if they didn’t know where to rest. “I… I wanted to talk,” she said, her voice steady but quiet.

Y/N straightened, crossing her arms. Her posture turned guarded, a wall of defense built in an instant. “About what?”

“About us,” Kazuha replied softly, the words almost lost in the stillness of the room.

Y/N’s jaw tightened. Her heart clenched at the word, a flood of emotions threatening to spill over, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. She didn’t reply, letting the silence stretch as she waited for Kazuha to continue.

Kazuha took a small step forward, her eyes searching Y/N’s face for any sign of openness, any crack in the armor. Finding none, she pressed on, her voice trembling slightly.

“I know I hurt you,” she began, her words deliberate, as if she were choosing each one with care. “And I’m sorry. I was scared, and I made the wrong choice. I shouldn’t have left without—”

“Stop,” Y/N interrupted sharply.

Her voice was calm, but there was a hard edge to it that made Kazuha flinch. Y/N could see the flicker of hurt in Kazuha’s eyes, but she didn’t let herself waver.

“Kazuha, I don’t need your apology,” she said coldly, her words cutting through the air like a blade.

Kazuha opened her mouth to protest, but Y/N didn’t give her the chance.

“It doesn’t change what happened,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength as her emotions boiled to the surface. “You left me once without a second thought. Do it again and leave me alone. We don’t need to be more than professional.”

Kazuha’s expression crumbled, the weight of Y/N’s words hitting her like a physical blow. Her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. For a moment, she stood there, frozen in place, her usually poised demeanor nowhere to be found.

“Just drop it,” Y/N said, her tone quieter now, but no less firm. She turned away, grabbing her water bottle and towel as if to signal that the conversation was over. “It’s too late for apologies anyway.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Kazuha stood motionless, her hands limp at her sides as she stared at Y/N’s back. She wanted to say something, anything, to break through the wall between them, but the words stuck in her throat.

Finally, she nodded, the motion small and defeated. “Okay,” she whispered, more to herself than to Y/N.

As Kazuha turned and walked away, her footsteps slow and heavy, her chest ached with a mix of regret and determination.

She had known this wouldn’t be easy. She had known that Y/N wouldn’t forgive her overnight. But hearing those words, feeling the cold finality in Y/N’s voice, was harder than she’d expected.

Yet, beneath the hurt, a flicker of resolve remained.

She couldn’t undo the past. She couldn’t erase the mistakes she’d made or the pain she’d caused. But she could try to make things right in the present.

As Kazuha exited the room, the resolve in her steps began to solidify. She didn’t know how yet, but she wasn’t going to give up.

The pressure of the upcoming comeback was relentless. The group’s schedules were packed with rehearsals, vocal practices, and concept meetings, leaving little time for rest. Every moment was dedicated to perfecting their performances, and the weight of expectations hung heavily over all of them.

For Y/N, the intense workload was manageable, it was the simmering tension with Kazuha that made each day feel like a marathon. No matter how hard she tried to focus, Kazuha’s presence seemed to loom over her, an invisible yet suffocating force.

Kazuha wasn’t faring any better. Despite her best efforts to act normal, the unresolved emotions between her and Y/N were beginning to take their toll. Her movements during rehearsals became less fluid, her usually calm demeanor occasionally cracking under the strain. The rest of the group had noticed, though they tried to give the two space, hoping they’d sort it out on their own.

But the cracks in the group’s harmony were becoming harder to ignore.

The rehearsal room was filled with the steady thump of the track as the group worked through yet another run of the choreography. The mirrors reflected six bodies in motion, their steps sharp and precise. At least, most of the time.

“Y/N, you’re a beat late on the transition,” the choreographer called out, her voice cutting through the music.

“Sorry,” Y/N replied quickly, adjusting her position.

They started the routine again, and this time, Y/N made sure to hit the timing. But just as they reached the formation change, she felt a slight hesitation in her footing, her mind momentarily distracted. It wasn’t much, barely noticeable, but Kazuha caught it.

“Seriously?” Kazuha snapped, her voice louder than intended as they finished the sequence. She turned toward Y/N, her frustration breaking through her usually calm facade.

Y/N froze, her brows furrowing. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Kazuha repeated, incredulous. “We’ve gone over this part a dozen times, and you’re still off. We don’t have time for mistakes.”

The tension in the room was palpable as the other members exchanged uneasy glances. Chaewon stepped forward, her mouth opening as if to diffuse the situation, but Y/N spoke first.

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on criticizing me, you’d actually notice your own mistakes,” Y/N shot back, her tone icy.

Kazuha’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. “This isn’t about me. This is about you not taking this seriously enough.”

“Not taking this seriously?” Y/N repeated, her voice rising. “I’ve been working just as hard as everyone else, so don’t you dare act like I’m slacking off.”

The argument escalated quickly, their voices cutting through the room like shards of glass.

“Enough!” Chaewon’s voice rang out, firm and commanding. She stepped between them, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

“Both of you, stop,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “This isn’t the time or place for whatever this is.”

Sakura placed a hand on Kazuha’s shoulder, gently pulling her back. “Let’s take a breather,” she suggested, her voice calm but pointed.

Kazuha clenched her fists, her chest rising and falling as she tried to rein in her emotions. Y/N looked away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, the anger still simmering beneath her skin.

The group gathered in a loose circle, the air thick with tension as Chaewon took charge.

“This can’t keep happening,” she said, her voice steady but firm. “Whatever’s going on between you two, it’s starting to affect the group. We can’t afford that. Not now, not ever.”

Yunjin nodded in agreement, her expression serious. “We all feel it. The tension, the arguments, it’s throwing off the energy in the room.”

Eunchae looked between Y/N and Kazuha, her wide eyes filled with worry. “Unnies, can’t you just talk it out? Please?”

Kazuha and Y/N avoided each other’s gaze, their silence speaking volumes.

Chaewon sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m not asking you to magically fix everything right now. But if you don’t address this, it’s only going to get worse. You need to talk. Privately.”

Sakura added, her voice softer but no less insistent, “You don’t have to be best friends, but you do have to find a way to work together without dragging the rest of us into it.”

For a moment, neither Y/N nor Kazuha responded. The room felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for one of them to speak.

Finally, Y/N exhaled heavily, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Fine. We’ll talk.”

Kazuha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Yeah. We’ll talk.”

The other members exchanged relieved glances, though the tension between the two girls remained.

As the others left the room to give them space, Y/N and Kazuha found themselves alone in the studio. The door clicked shut, leaving behind an oppressive silence that neither of them seemed willing to break.

Kazuha stood in the middle of the room, her hands fidgeting at her sides, while Y/N leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly. Her posture was defensive, her gaze sharp and expectant.

Kazuha opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, her throat tightening with the weight of everything she wanted to say. Apologizing felt inadequate. Explaining herself felt impossible.

“I…” she began, but the words faltered, slipping through her grasp.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression hardening. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m leaving,” she said curtly, pushing herself off the wall.

“Wait,” Kazuha said, her voice trembling slightly. But when Y/N turned to face her, eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and anger, Kazuha froze.

The words she wanted to say, I’m sorry, I still care about you, I want to make this right, stayed lodged in her throat, trapped beneath the fear that whatever she said wouldn’t be enough.

Y/N shook her head, her disappointment evident. “That’s what I thought.”

Grabbing her bag, she walked to the door without another glance. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Kazuha standing alone in the empty studio, her hands still trembling.

For a long moment, she stayed there, staring at the floor, her chest heavy with regret. The silence around her felt crushing, a mirror to the emptiness she felt inside.

The tension didn’t ease in the following days. Y/N and Kazuha’s avoidance of each other became even more pronounced, their interactions limited to what was strictly necessary. The rest of the group noticed the strain, their own frustration mounting as the two continued to dance around their issues, figuratively and literally.

Chaewon and Sakura had had enough.

“This has to stop,” Chaewon said during a rare moment of quiet in the dorm. She sat on the couch, her arms crossed as she watched Y/N disappear into her room without saying goodnight to anyone.

Sakura nodded, her expression thoughtful. “They’re like magnets stuck in reverse. The longer this goes on, the worse it’s going to get.”

Yunjin, sprawled out on the other end of the couch, chimed in. “We need to do something. They’re clearly not going to fix it on their own.”

“I agree,” Chaewon said, her tone firm. “But it has to be subtle. We can’t just sit them down and force them to talk.”

Eunchae perked up from where she was munching on snacks at the table. “What if we made it seem like part of a group activity? Something where they’d have no choice but to work together?”

The four of them exchanged looks, the beginnings of an idea forming.

A few days later, Chaewon announced the plan during a rare moment of quiet in the practice room. She stood in front of the group, hands on her hips, her expression calm but purposeful.

“We’re doing a team bonding exercise tomorrow,” she said with an air of casual enthusiasm, though her tone hinted at an unspoken determination.

“Bonding?” Y/N repeated skeptically, glancing up from adjusting her shoes. The word rolled off her tongue with clear doubt, as if the concept itself was absurd.

“Yup,” Chaewon replied, her voice light but firm. “Pairing up for trust-building activities. It’ll be good for morale.”

“Morale?” Yunjin echoed from the back, raising an eyebrow. “Whose morale is suffering exactly?”

Chaewon shot her a look, and Yunjin quickly raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying…”

Sakura chimed in with a knowing smirk. “Trust-building, huh? Sounds suspiciously like one of those ‘corporate retreat’ activities you see in movies.”

“Call it what you want,” Chaewon said with a shrug. “But it’s happening. Everyone needs to participate.”

When the pairings were announced the next day, the tension in the room was almost palpable.

“And the first pair is… Y/N and Kazuha,” Chaewon said, her tone deliberately neutral.

Y/N immediately frowned, her eyes darting to Kazuha, who shifted uncomfortably in her spot. “Seriously?” Y/N muttered, her voice low but sharp enough to carry.

“It’s random,” Chaewon replied smoothly, though the slight tilt of her head and the faintest quirk of her lips suggested otherwise.

“Sure it is,” Y/N mumbled under her breath, her skepticism evident.

From the sidelines, Sakura’s smirk grew wider, though she quickly disguised it with a loud cough. Eunchae, ever the enthusiastic maknae, clapped her hands together. “This is going to be fun!”

“Fun,” Y/N repeated flatly, already regretting her life choices.

The practice room had been transformed into a makeshift obstacle course, complete with low hurdles, cones to navigate, and mats scattered across the floor. It was a far cry from the polished precision of their usual choreography sessions, and yet, the stakes felt just as high, if not higher for Y/N and Kazuha.

The rules were simple: one partner would be blindfolded, while the other guided them through the course using only verbal instructions. It was an exercise in trust and communication, two things Y/N and Kazuha seemed to lack entirely.

“Alright, you two are up,” Yunjin called, gesturing for Y/N and Kazuha to step forward. Her grin was a little too wide, her amusement barely concealed.

Y/N sighed heavily, pulling the blindfold over her eyes with a resigned air. “Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, her tone laced with irritation.

Kazuha, standing just behind her, took a deep breath, her nerves evident in the slight tremor of her hands. She moved into position, her fingers hovering awkwardly near Y/N’s shoulders before she finally rested them lightly. Her touch was hesitant, as though she wasn’t sure if it would be welcome.

“Ready?” Kazuha asked softly, her voice almost tentative.

“Just start,” Y/N replied curtly, her arms hanging stiffly at her sides.

Kazuha’s voice was quiet at first, almost unsure. “Take a step forward. Slowly.”

Y/N followed the instruction, her movements cautious, her senses hyperaware of every sound and shift in the room.

“Now a little to the left,” Kazuha said.

Y/N adjusted her footing but paused. “A little to the left? Be specific. How much is ‘a little’?”

Kazuha bit her lip, the frustration bubbling beneath her composed exterior. “Two steps to the left,” she corrected, her tone sharper than before.

Y/N muttered something under her breath but complied.

As the course progressed, the tension between them grew thicker. Kazuha’s instructions became more clipped, her frustration slipping through with each correction, while Y/N’s responses grew increasingly pointed.

“Watch out for the cone,” Kazuha said quickly.

“Where?” Y/N asked, her tone edged with impatience.

“Right in front of you,” Kazuha replied.

“Great,” Y/N snapped as she stumbled into the cone. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“I told you it was there!” Kazuha shot back, her voice rising slightly.

“Yeah, about half a second too late,” Y/N retorted.

From the sidelines, the rest of the group watched with varying degrees of amusement and concern. Eunchae’s eyes darted nervously between the two, while Sakura leaned against the wall, whispering something to Chaewon. Yunjin, meanwhile, was openly grinning, clearly entertained by the train wreck unfolding before her.

“Could you at least try to help me avoid breaking my neck?” Y/N snapped, ripping off the blindfold in frustration. Her tone was sharp, her patience worn thin.

“I am trying,” Kazuha shot back, her own voice rising. “But maybe if you’d stop being so difficult, this wouldn’t be so hard.”

“Try harder!” Y/N retorted, glaring at Kazuha. “This isn’t that complicated.”

Kazuha’s composure cracked, her frustration bubbling over. “Oh, because you’re so perfect, right? You think you’re the only one dealing with this? You think I don’t see how you look at me, like I’m some kind of villain?”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with anger. “Maybe if you didn’t leave me the way you did, I wouldn’t look at you like that.”

The words hit like a slap. Kazuha’s breath caught, her chest rising and falling as she stared at Y/N. “You think I don’t regret it?” she said, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “Every single day, Y/N. You think it was easy for me to leave?”

Before either of them could continue, Chaewon’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

“Enough!”

The entire group had stopped to watch the argument unfold, their expressions ranging from shock to exasperation. Chaewon, her patience clearly at its limit, exchanged a look with Sakura, who nodded.

“That’s it,” Sakura said, walking over and placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “We’re done letting this ruin practice.”

“What—” Y/N began, but Sakura cut her off.

“You two need to figure this out. NOW,” she said firmly, steering them toward the storage room attached to the practice studio.

“Wait, we—” Kazuha started, but Chaewon was already opening the door.

“In. Both of you,” Chaewon said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Yunjin leaned casually against the wall, her voice carrying an edge of humor despite the tension. “We’ll let you out when you stop acting like this. Good luck.”

The door shut with a resounding click, leaving Y/N and Kazuha alone in the cramped, dimly lit storage room.

The silence between them was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the ventilation system. Y/N stood with her arms crossed, glaring at the floor, while Kazuha paced a few steps, running her hands through her hair.

“This is ridiculous,” Y/N muttered, her voice tight with anger.

“No,” Kazuha snapped, turning to face her. “What’s ridiculous is how you can’t even give me a chance to explain myself!”

Y/N’s head shot up, her eyes narrowing. “Explain? Explain what, Kazuha? How you broke my heart and left without even looking back? What could you possibly say that I haven’t already told myself?”

Kazuha’s jaw tightened. “You don’t think I wanted to stay? You don’t think I hated myself for leaving?”

“Then why did you?” Y/N shouted, her voice cracking as the emotions she’d tried to bury came rushing to the surface. “Why did you leave me if it was so hard for you? You made me feel like I didn’t matter!”

“That’s not true!” Kazuha yelled, stepping closer, her own emotions spilling out now. “You mattered to me. More than anything! But I was scared, Y/N! I didn’t know how to handle everything, and when the opportunity came to train in Korea, I thought it was the only way I could make something of myself!”

“You didn’t even try to talk to me about it!” Y/N shot back, tears stinging her eyes. “You just left! Do you have any idea how much that hurt? How much I hated myself for thinking I wasn’t enough to make you stay?”

Kazuha froze, her breathing ragged as she stared at Y/N. Her chest tightened, the weight of Y/N’s words pressing down on her like a crushing force.

“Y/N…” she began, her voice trembling, but Y/N cut her off.

“Don’t,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “Don’t say you regret it now. Don’t tell me you hated it, because that doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t change what you did!”

The anger and hurt in Y/N’s voice were like daggers, each word slicing through Kazuha’s already fragile defenses.

“I know I can’t change it!” Kazuha shouted, her voice breaking as the floodgates finally gave way. “I regret it. Every. Single. Day. You think it was easy to leave? To walk away from the person I—”

She stopped herself, but the words were already out there, hanging in the air.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, her voice shaking with fury and something far more vulnerable. “To walk away from the person you what, Kazuha?”

Kazuha’s fists clenched at her sides, her emotions too powerful to contain anymore. Her voice rose, raw and desperate, as she finally let the truth spill out.

“The person I loved!” she shouted, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face.

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling like a heavy blanket over both of them.

Y/N froze, her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as the confession echoed in her ears.

“You don’t get to say that now,” Y/N said finally, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “Not after everything.”

“I know,” Kazuha said, her tears falling freely now. “I know I don’t deserve to say it. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But it’s the truth, Y/N. It’s always been the truth.”

The raw sincerity in Kazuha’s voice pierced through Y/N’s anger, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kazuha took a tentative step closer, her eyes filled with a desperate kind of hope. “Then let me prove it,” she said. “Whatever it takes, I’ll prove it to you. Just… don’t shut me out completely.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of their emotions, their shared history, hung heavy in the air between them.

The aftermath of their explosive fight in the storage room left Y/N and Kazuha emotionally drained but strangely lighter, as if the weight of their unresolved past had finally begun to lift. Neither of them had all the answers, but for the first time in a long time, there was clarity. They had finally said the words that had been trapped inside them for far too long.

The following days, the practice room felt different. The tension that had once hung over Y/N and Kazuha like a storm cloud was still there, but it was softer now, less suffocating. When their gazes met across the room, it wasn’t avoidance or anger that lingered in the air, but something closer to understanding.

It started small.

A quiet “Good job” from Y/N when Kazuha landed a particularly tricky turn in the choreography, her tone soft but genuine. It was a simple phrase, yet it lingered in the air, a far cry from the sharp retorts and icy silences of weeks prior.

Kazuha reciprocated in kind. During one grueling rehearsal, she noticed Y/N struggling with a sequence and instinctively reached out, her hand resting gently on Y/N’s shoulder. “Try shifting your weight earlier,” she suggested, her voice steady but kind. The advice worked, and Y/N’s smile, small but sincere, was enough to make Kazuha’s chest ache in the best way.

These small gestures, though seemingly insignificant, carried immense weight for the two of them. Each act of kindness, every shared glance, felt like another brick being placed in the fragile foundation they were rebuilding.

Their interactions, once tense and awkward, grew warmer, more natural. They began to talk during breaks, not about anything particularly deep, but enough to show the others that something had shifted.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to notice.

One afternoon, during a rare lull in practice, Y/N and Kazuha sat against the mirrored wall, quietly laughing over a shared joke about their last photoshoot. The sound was light, genuine, and startlingly out of place given their recent history.

“Are we dreaming?” Yunjin teased, watching the scene unfold with exaggerated disbelief. She clutched her chest dramatically, as though the sight of Y/N and Kazuha laughing together had physically floored her. “Is this real? Should someone pinch me?”

Sakura smirked from her spot on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her as she leaned back on her hands. “Careful, you might jinx it,” she said, though the amusement in her tone was impossible to miss.

Chaewon, sitting nearby with her water bottle in hand, simply smiled. She didn’t say anything, but the quiet relief in her expression was unmistakable. The uneasy tension that had once plagued their dynamic was finally beginning to dissipate.

Eunchae, never one to hold back, plopped down between Y/N and Kazuha with a wide grin. “You two should argue more often,” she said, nudging each of them with her elbows. “It’s good for the group!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, while Kazuha let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N replied dryly, though the corners of her lips curved upward despite herself.

Eunchae’s grin widened, clearly satisfied. “See? You’re already happier!”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the group’s dynamic felt easy again, like slipping into a favorite song after a long silence. The others didn’t press too much, knowing that the progress between Y/N and Kazuha was delicate, but their quiet support was felt all the same.

As practice ended that day, Chaewon gathered her things and glanced at Sakura. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” she said softly, watching as Y/N and Kazuha walked out of the studio together, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

Sakura nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she agreed. “It’s nice to see them like this.”

As their friendship slowly mended, their synergy on stage grew stronger. The group was rehearsing one of the centerpiece performances and the sections that paired Y/N and Kazuha together took on an entirely new energy.

Their movements, once marked by tension and hesitation, became fluid and seamless. There was an unspoken connection between them that shone through in their performances, a connection that had always been there but was now unburdened by the weight of their unresolved feelings.

It wasn’t just their team who noticed.

Fans began pointing out their chemistry in online discussions and live-stream chats. Edits of their synchronized movements and subtle interactions started circulating, and while Y/N and Kazuha didn’t acknowledge it publicly, the comments brought a secret warmth to both of them.

Away from the cameras and everyone else, Y/N and Kazuha were slowly rebuilding the trust they had lost. It wasn’t easy, some days were better than others but the effort was mutual.

One evening, after a long day of schedule, Y/N found herself in the dorm’s cozy living room. The lights were dim, casting a warm glow over the space as she sank into the couch, a fleece blanket draped over her lap. She scrolled idly on her phone, letting the quiet of the evening soothe her frayed nerves.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Kazuha until she was standing nearby, holding two water bottles.

“Oh,” Y/N said, sitting up slightly as Kazuha extended one of the bottles toward her.

“Here,” Kazuha said simply, her voice soft but steady.

Y/N accepted it, twisting off the cap and taking a sip. “Thanks,” she said, her tone light but genuine.

Kazuha sat down beside her, leaving a small but deliberate space between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound in the room.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said when we were locked up in the storage,” Kazuha began softly, breaking the silence. Her gaze was fixed on the floor, her fingers fidgeting slightly with the cap of her own bottle.

Y/N turned to look at her, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Which part?”

“All of it,” Kazuha admitted, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “How I hurt you. How I made you feel like you weren’t enough. You were right. I should have talked to you instead of running away. I should have trusted you enough to let you in.”

Y/N studied her for a moment, the sincerity in Kazuha’s voice cutting through the remnants of her lingering resentment. The vulnerability in her words was disarming, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt herself lowering her guard.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing,” Y/N said quietly, setting her water bottle down on the table. “I’ve already heard it. Now I just need to see it.”

Kazuha finally lifted her gaze, her eyes steady as they met Y/N’s. “You will,” she said with quiet determination. “I promise.”

Y/N nodded, a small, tentative smile softening her features. “Good.”

Another night, they found themselves sitting on the dorm balcony, wrapped in the stillness of the city night. The balcony wasn’t large, just enough for two chairs and a tiny table, but it offered a perfect view of the twinkling lights stretching out to the horizon.

The air was cool but not cold, and both of them sat bundled in sweaters, savoring one of the rare moments their packed schedule allowed them to breathe.

“I missed this,” Kazuha said suddenly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Y/N turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “Missed what?”

“This,” Kazuha said, gesturing between them with a small, almost shy smile. “Talking. Laughing. Just… being with you.”

The words hung in the air, unadorned but heavy with meaning.

Y/N hesitated, her chest tightening at the vulnerability in Kazuha’s tone. There had been so many moments like this between them in the past, moments of quiet honesty that had felt so natural, so easy. Now, they felt like rare treasures, fragile but precious.

“I missed it too,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft. She turned her gaze back to the city lights, but the faint smile tugging at her lips gave away her emotions.

The confession lingered between them, but this time, it didn’t feel heavy or suffocating. It felt like a step forward, tentative, careful, but forward nonetheless.

As they sat there, the quiet stretching on, Kazuha leaned back in her chair and sighed contentedly. “I’ll keep saying it, you know,” she said after a moment, her voice playful but sincere.

“Saying what?” Y/N asked, glancing over at her with a curious smile.

“That I’m sorry. That I care about you. That I—” Kazuha stopped herself, biting her lip as her cheeks flushed faintly in the dim light. “That I want to fix this.”

Y/N shook her head lightly, her smile widening just a bit. “Just don’t mess it up this time,” she said, her tone teasing but carrying an undercurrent of earnestness.

“I won’t,” Kazuha replied, her voice steady.

It wasn’t just a friendship they were rebuilding, it was the foundation of something much deeper. Neither of them said it outright, but the shift between them was undeniable. The glances lingered a little longer, their conversations carried a tenderness that hadn’t been there before, and their moments of silence felt comfortable, not strained.

Still, some things remained unspoken. Beneath the surface of their growing connection, there was a tension, an unaddressed question neither of them had dared to voice. Y/N sensed it in the way Kazuha sometimes looked at her, as if trying to find the courage to say something more.

One quiet evening, as they wrapped up yet another day of practice, the unspoken question that had lingered between them for months finally came to a head.

The studio was dimly lit, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound after the music had stopped. The other members had already left, their chatter fading down the hallway as the door swung shut behind them.

Kazuha lingered, standing near the mirrored wall, her movements hesitant. Her fingers brushed against the hem of her hoodie as if she were trying to ground herself. Y/N, who had been on her way out, paused at the doorway, noticing the way Kazuha’s gaze lingered on the floor, unfocused.

“You coming?” Y/N asked lightly, her voice breaking the silence.

Kazuha’s head snapped up, her eyes meeting Y/N’s. There was something in her gaze, nervous but resolute, that made Y/N hesitate.

“In a minute,” Kazuha replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity flickering across her face. “What’s up?” she asked, stepping back into the room and folding her arms as she leaned casually against the wall.

Kazuha hesitated, her hands fidgeting again. Her eyes darted toward the mirror before landing back on Y/N. She took a deep breath, as though she were gathering courage.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” she began, her voice trembling slightly but carrying an undercurrent of determination.

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly, her curiosity growing. “Thinking about what?”

Kazuha shifted, taking a step closer. Her movements were deliberate now, her gaze locking with Y/N’s. “I know we’ve been rebuilding things slowly,” she continued, her words careful and measured. “And I didn’t want to ruin that, but… I need to say this. Properly. This time.”

Y/N’s confusion deepened, her arms uncrossing as she stood up straighter. “Say what?”

Kazuha took another step forward, the space between them growing smaller. She clasped her hands together to still their trembling and took another steadying breath.

“That I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air, clear and unwavering, reverberating through the quiet studio like a delicate but powerful note.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart pounding as she stared at Kazuha. For a moment, her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, shock, warmth, a flicker of nervous excitement.

Kazuha, her cheeks flushed but her eyes steady, pressed on. “I know we said we’d focus on being friends again, and I don’t want to ruin that,” she added quickly, her voice tinged with nervous energy. “But I couldn’t keep pretending that my feelings weren’t still there. They never went away, Y/N. I know I should’ve told you sooner, back then, but I was scared. I can’t keep hiding it anymore.”

Y/N stared at her, her emotions swirling together in a chaotic but undeniable warmth. She could see the vulnerability etched across Kazuha’s face, the way her hands trembled slightly, the earnestness in her eyes as she waited for Y/N’s response.

For a moment, Y/N said nothing, and the silence stretched on, broken only by the faint hum of the air. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a small, genuine smile.

“I still have feelings for you too,” Y/N admitted softly, her voice warm but tinged with caution.

Kazuha blinked, her shoulders visibly relaxing as relief washed over her face.

“But,” Y/N continued, her smile fading into a more serious expression, “we’ve both changed. So much has happened, and I don’t want to mess up what we’ve rebuilt or the group.”

Kazuha nodded quickly, her agreement earnest. “I know. Slow is good. I just… I needed you to know. I couldn’t keep holding it in.”

Y/N stepped forward, the last bit of distance between them vanishing as she reached out to gently touch Kazuha’s arm. Her fingers lingered for a moment before she shifted closer, hesitating briefly before wrapping her arms around Kazuha in a soft, tentative hug.

Kazuha froze for a split second, surprised, before she melted into the embrace. Her arms came up slowly, encircling Y/N in return. The warmth of the hug felt like a balm, soothing the unspoken pain they had both carried for so long.

“Thank you for telling me,” Y/N murmured, her voice steady but warm, her words muffled slightly against Kazuha’s shoulder.

Kazuha’s lips curved into a soft smile, a faint pink coloring her cheeks as she held Y/N a little closer. She hesitated for only a moment before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s temple, the gesture filled with quiet affection.

Y/N pulled back just enough to meet Kazuha’s gaze, their faces inches apart. The moment lingered, the air between them charged with something tender and unspoken.

After a beat, Y/N smiled, a small, genuine smile that lit up her face. “Come on,” she said softly, her tone lightening as she stepped back, though her hand briefly squeezed Kazuha’s arm before letting go. “The others are probably wondering what we’re doing.”

Kazuha let out a small laugh, the sound carrying a newfound ease. “You’re probably right,” she said, her voice soft.

As they walked out of the studio together, side by side, there was a quiet but undeniable shift between them, one that neither of them could deny.

Months later, the group stood backstage, their hearts racing as the deafening roar of fans filled the arena. It was the encore of their first major concert, and the sheer energy in the air was electric, a palpable buzz that made every moment feel larger than life.

Y/N stood near the back of the group, adjusting her in-ear monitor as she took in the scene around her. The members huddled together, a mixture of excitement and nerves evident on their faces. Chaewon was at the center of the group, her voice calm yet commanding as she delivered a final pep talk.

“This is it,” Chaewon said, her gaze sweeping over each of them. “The last performance. Let’s give them everything we’ve got.”

The group nodded in unison, their determination shining through despite the exhaustion of the night. When the huddle broke apart, everyone began to take their places.

Y/N was about to step toward her position when she felt a familiar presence beside her. She turned to see Kazuha, her expression soft but purposeful as she approached.

“You ready?” Kazuha asked, her voice low but steady. She held out her hand, her fingers outstretched in a silent invitation.

Y/N smiled, her chest tightening with warmth as she slid her fingers into Kazuha’s. “Always,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the world seemed to slow. The roar of the arena faded into the background, the chaos of the moment giving way to an intimate stillness that belonged to just the two of them.

Kazuha took a small step closer, her grip on Y/N’s hand firm but gentle. Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s cheek, her lips lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Thank you for trusting me again,” she whispered, her voice carrying a vulnerability that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, but she didn’t hesitate to return the gesture. She leaned in, her own lips brushing against Kazuha’s cheek in a gentle kiss. “Thank you for not giving up,” she murmured, the sincerity in her tone leaving no room for doubt.

Their moment was short-lived, interrupted by the familiar sound of Yunjin’s playful voice cutting through the backstage noise.

“Are we getting an encore or a love confession back here?” Yunjin teased, her grin wide as she leaned against one of the stage props.

The group erupted into laughter, the tension breaking as the lighthearted teasing spread. Even Chaewon cracked a small smile, though she clapped her hands to refocus everyone. “Alright, save the confessions for later. Let’s go.”

Y/N and Kazuha exchanged an amused glance, their hands still entwined.

Hand in hand, they stepped onto the stage together. The deafening cheers of the crowd enveloped them like a tidal wave, the sheer energy of the moment sending chills down Y/N’s spine. The arena was awash in light, the glowsticks held by fans creating a sea of shimmering colors.

The bright stage lights bathed them in warmth as they took their positions, their hands finally parting as they prepared for the final performance. Y/N glanced at Kazuha one last time before the music began, a small smile tugging at her lips.

And then the song started, the beat pounding through the speakers as the group moved in perfect unison. Y/N and Kazuha danced side by side, not just as performers, but as partners once more, bound by a connection that had withstood distance, heartbreak, and time.

The encore was electric, a culmination of their hard work and the love they shared with their fans. The cheers grew louder with each beat, and as Y/N and Kazuha exchanged a brief but meaningful glance in the middle of the routine, Y/N felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known in years.

They weren’t just facing the stage. They were facing the world. Together.

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake Kiszka One Shot: Best Friend’s Brother

When your boyfriend breaks up with you, your head falls on the nearest shoulder; Jake’s.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak, self-doubt, a hint of angst, fear of loneliness, sweet Jake <3, fluff, and that’s all, folks!

(Let me know if I missed any!)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors and grammar mistakes.

a/n— Here’s to my fluff lovers! Apologies to the individual who requested this one shot nearly three weeks ago, I hope I did your request justice! Shoutout to the beta readers who provided feedback and reassurance so I could finish quicker. Enjoy!! <3

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You had nowhere else to turn.

The tears sting your eyes as they keep falling, blurring your vision while you lift your closed fist, gently pounding on the door of your best friend’s apartment. A moment of doubt passes, realizing how late it is and that you haven’t even bothered to call before showing up unannounced. 

Your body shivers in the cool breeze of the late-summer air, your arms crossing over your chest as you wait patiently, with your back slightly hunched to preserve all remaining body heat. Rushing over here, you hadn’t thought to wear a heavier jacket, and honestly, you didn’t know it would be this cold. Without thinking, you knock again, letting your arms rest at your sides as your fists grip anxiously at nothing. This was a mistake, you thought to yourself.

The surrounding stillness is deafening; a gentle swish of wind blows past, carrying the dewy scent of the quickly approaching fall. In the distance, tires tread across the gravelly roads, the muffled crunch becoming white noise. The melancholy symphony of crickets is a reminder of the sleeping world around you; a reminder that Josh is, in fact, asleep. Reluctantly, you cut your losses, ultimately giving up and taking a mental note to return tomorrow. 

Just as you take a step back from the door, you perk up and stop your movements when you hear the faint footsteps behind the heavy wood. Thank God. 

However, your optimism fades when the door swings open, revealing the last person you would want to see at a time like this. Quickly wiping the streaming tears from your blotched cheeks, you fix your posture, sniffling and peering over his shoulder. You don’t bother to greet him, having all manners fly out the window. 

“Is Josh available?” You rush out.

“No, he’s asleep right now–” Jake’s voice is irritated, understandably so, but his mouth shuts when he dissects your appearance; flushed cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a nose that would beat Rudolph in a competition. He’s equally disheveled, most likely having just woken up from your knocking. His hair is tousled, and he’s sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a thoroughly worn t-shirt with a stretched neckline. His eyes are squinting, likely adjusting to the overhead light of the outside hallway. “Is everything okay?” His eyes soften, along with his tone. 

“Oh, um,” You divert your gaze from his watchful eyes, “I’m fine.” You should’ve known Josh would be asleep by now, it’s nearly 3 am and he has work in the morning, but you still feel disappointed by the information relayed. While Josh would 100% want to be woken up, and would willingly stay up until the sun rises, you’re unwilling to put that responsibility on him. If there’s one thing about you, you refuse to be a burden. Sure, Josh has never made you feel like one, but regardless, you’re willing to wait to avoid messing with his sleep schedule.

Jake pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you sure–”

“Just tell him to call me when he wakes up, please.” Cutting him off, you turn away, ready to make a run for the flight of stairs to your right. 

“Hey…” Before you can step away, his fingers wrap around your wrist, halting your movements. “What happened?” His voice is as interrogating as it is concerned, and his face is stern, pushing for more information than you’re willing to give. 

“Just…” Your eyes focus on his unwavering hand, keeping you in place. Hesitating, you consider telling him. “I’d rather speak with Josh– I’m sorry for bothering you this late. You should go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” He repeats, “You’re no bother, I promise.”

“I’m sure, Jake.” You dismiss him, unfamiliar with his sudden concern. While you’ve been friends with Josh for years, you and Jake never got around to getting to know each other. So, his insistent apprehensiveness is new to you. It makes you skeptical– unwilling to confide in him, even though you probably should. “It’s nothing, really.” 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” His tone is bordering on vexing and his persistence maddens you. Why does he want to know so badly? 

“Jake.” Your voice wavers, attempting to be a warning, but nearly cracking like the front you’ve put on. The warmth of his palm pierces through your already heated skin, and while your thoughts contradict the words that leave your mouth, you haven’t pulled away just yet. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you.” 

“I just want to help–”

“I’m fine, Jake!” Your raised voice startles both of you, his eyes wide and mouth parted, unable to respond. With your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse blares in your ears from the rising heat that settles in the crooks of your neck. Silence falls and a tinge of guilt settles in your lower stomach. “I’m sorry, that was… rude of me.”

“No. Don’t apologize.” He shakes his head, dropping your wrist and stepping back a half-step. “I shouldn’t have pried. I’m sorry.”

“Jake–” You step closer, and for a reason you can’t quite place, you don’t want him to leave you just yet. 

“I’ll let Josh know you stopped by.” He’s closing the door now, his eyes locked on yours for a moment before drifting to the floor. 

“Jake, wait.” You plaster your hand against the door, preventing him from closing it. He stops, looks at you, and waits for you to continue. His features are unreadable; relaxed, but simultaneously tense. Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes find the ceiling of the apartment hallway, unable to look him in the eyes. “My boyfriend and I broke up.” 

“Oh,” His face softens, and he opens the door fully again, making your hand drop to your side, “I’m so sorry.” The look on his face disturbs you. It’s a look you never thought you’d receive from him; pity. He actually feels sorry for you. Sure, Jake isn’t a complete asshole, but you’re not close. This is odd. And yet, you feel the comfort radiating off his stature.

“Yeah, well, he broke up with me.” Your name rolls off his tongue in an empathetic whisper from your further elaboration and clear upset in your tone. Without a second thought, Jake steps through the threshold and wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a consoling hug. The force of his affection causes a small oof to huff out of you, and it takes a moment of initial shock to pass before you reciprocate. Despite the unfamiliarity, you welcome his warmth and feel the tension in your muscles melt as you allow yourself to slump against him. His arms adjust, gently pulling you against him in a firm hold, providing support to your trembling frame. 

Your hands interlock behind him and you take a deep breath, your eyes involuntarily closing as tears threaten to resurface. But, when you inhale deeply, his attractive scent fills your senses and overcomes you. It only adds to his solace; manly, musky, smoky, and vaguely of cinnamon and various spices. You fight the urge to hum when it infiltrates your lungs.

“Come inside.” His voice vibrates against you, pulling you from your racing thoughts. “We can talk about it.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, really.” You chuckle nervously as you lean back to look at him, still holding onto him. He doesn’t let go either. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Please?” He reasons with you, tilting his head, his eyes begging, “At least sleep over and wait until Josh wakes up. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

The offer is appealing. And he is right— you shouldn’t be alone and certainly don’t want to be. You genuinely enjoy this side of Jake; caring, worrisome, and considerate. It’s not that he’s never been those things before, but he’s simply your best friend’s brother. You question why you never considered being his friend as well.

“Fine. I’ll stay.” It truly didn’t take much convincing. You’d either decline and return to an empty apartment for the rest of the night, or accept and potentially spend time with Jake. It’s better than being alone, so you clearly opted for the latter. 

He smiles softly at your submission, unwrapping his arms from around you, and guiding you into the apartment. Stepping aside to let you walk in, he shuts the door behind you. You’ve been in this apartment thousands of times, some even without Josh present, but you can’t shake the awkward feeling overcoming you. Usually, you and Jake coexist, not acknowledging each other. That’s not an option now, as he steps around you and walks over to the couch, taking a seat. 

“Come here.” He pats the spot next to him.

Without any protest, your body gravitates toward him, sitting next to him with just mere inches of space between the two of you. His eyes are watchful; aware of every micro-expression, muscle twitch, and breathing pattern. You feel… seen.

“Jake, I appreciate you letting me in, but really, you don’t have to do this.” You assure him, letting him know there’s still a way out of this conversation. “I’m okay with waiting for Josh.”

“I know I don’t have to… I want to.” His expression is serious, his eyebrows furrowed with determination, to let you know that he’s genuine, “You’re Josh’s best friend and, by extension, I care about you. Josh would do the same.”

He’s not wrong. Josh wouldn’t have let you leave even if you tried to run, though, Jake wouldn’t be that extreme. 

Your shoulders slouch and your bottom lip begins to quiver, remembering the traumatic events that occurred just hours before. It doesn’t take much persuasion for you to pour your heart out to Jake; laying out every single minute detail of your boyfriend— well, ex-boyfriend— breaking your heart.

Jake looks horrified with his eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared in pure indignation. He doesn’t interrupt you, though. Instead, he silently listens, letting you essentially word vomit. It isn’t until you finish talking that you realize tears have gathered just below your chin from the constant stream leaving your watering eyes. 

“I’m sorry, that was a lot.” You let out a small chuckle, using the sleeve of your sweater to wipe away the trail of tears. 

“Don’t apologize.” He reaches out to rest a hand on your knee. His form of comfort seems to be physical touch—he and Josh are similar in that way. “So, you’ve told me everything, but how are you?”

“I’m—” You have to think for a moment. Angry? Yes. Sad? Absolutely. “Disappointed in myself.” 

“Oh, come here,” His voice is gentle as his hands land on your shoulders and pull you into him. He scooches closer so your head can fall onto his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you close, while his hands cradle the back of your head. “Why?” His tone is curious.

“I don’t know, it’s just…” You sigh, closing your eyes and hiccuping into his chest. Great, here come the tears again. The fabric of his shirt soaks every fallen drop, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “What if there was something I could’ve done better?” You whisper.

Jake mutters your name, his arms constricting to hold you in a firmer grip, “Listen to me, him breaking up with you… that is not a you problem. Do you understand?” His low voice rumbles in his chest, emanating a comforting vibrating sensation against your cheek. 

“But—”

“There is no ‘but,’” His stern words cut you off, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him from your immediate defense, “I know you. You’ve been nothing but kind to him. And I know him.” You forget that Jake has met your ex-boyfriend a few times. Mainly through passing, but it never takes anyone long to realize how shitty he was. “He never deserved you.”

“It’s just…” You think of your next words, feeling embarrassed by the vulnerability you’re presenting to Jake. He stays silent, letting you collect your thoughts, and you sigh, “What if he’s right…?” Your trembling voice is barely audible.

“What?” Jake shifts, leaning back so you’ll look at him. His face is blurry, courtesy of the tears that gather on your waterline, but his features are riddled with concern. 

“What if…” You sigh again, and your shoulders slump in a silent sob, “What if no one wants me?” 

It’s a real fear you’ve dealt with for, well, however long you were with your ex. The beginning of your relationship was pure bliss, as all honeymoon phases are. However, by the one-year mark, arguments became a daily routine. Then, your second anniversary came around, and well, you had hoped it would get better. It never did. 

Josh did try convincing you to break up with him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice how unhappy you were with him. However, the longer the relationship lasted, and the more your self-esteem dwindled while being with him, you figured… no one else would ever love you. Not like him. If you can even call it love.

You’ve been out of the dating pool for years now, and the idea of having to restart frightens you. You started dating your ex when you were young, but now that you're fully into adulthood, the dating scene is different. 

“Someone will want you.” Jake’s voice is unyielding. His expression is serious. “And someone is going to love you. The way you should be loved. Okay?”

“Okay…” Surprisingly, his words do provide a sense of relief. He seems so sure when he tells you these things; as if he knows personally that they will happen— like he’ll make them happen.

“Good.” His hands move to the sides of your face, and your pulse quickens when he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead and placing a soft kiss against the creased skin. The intimate gesture startles you, but a gentle wave of disappointment settles in your gut. What were you expecting? You chalk it up to your overwhelming emotions and incessant need to forget this night ever happened— a night where your heart has been shattered by a man who never deserved the chance to begin with. “Do you want to lay down until Josh wakes up? He’s working an early shift, so he should be awake fairly soon.” Three hours to be exact.

You gently nod, your face still cradled in his hands; they’re soft and warm, despite the callouses that formed as a result of his passion, and they’re just barely applying pressure to your tear-stained cheeks. Lowering his hands, he stands up and waits for you to do so as well. 

“What?” 

“Just follow me, please?” When you hesitantly stand up, he places his hands on your shoulders, shifting you in the direction of the bedrooms and bathrooms down the hall. He guides you toward them— the main bathroom is at the end of the hall. You assume he’s taking you there, so you can freshen up and rid your face of the drying tears. And you’re correct.

Stepping into the bathroom, he turns the light on and you’re met with your reflection. Jeez. Somehow, your hair is a mess and your eyes are beginning to swell from the sheer force of crying. Your overall appearance is… puffy. 

“I look terrible.” You say in disbelief, letting out a pathetic chuckle. 

“Oh, stop it.” He looks at you through the mirror’s reflection, “Sit.” He gestures to the bathroom counter.

Doing as he says, you turn around and hop onto the counter, sitting beside the sink and facing Jake. He steps forward, crouching down into the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a washcloth, and soaking it with cold water. You expect him to hand it to you, but he steps before you, standing between your open legs. The position is intimate, and entirely compromising if Josh were to walk in. With pure focus on his face, he brings the washcloth up to one of your cheeks and gently wipes the tear-stained skin. The coldness of the cloth soothes your flushed cheek and your eyes flutter close from how nice it feels. His breathing is shallow and he’s close enough that you can hear the air exhaling from his nose. He continues to the other cheek, making sure to swipe the cloth along your jawline, nose, and chin. You’ll never understand what has warranted such care from Jake, but it’s best not to question it now.

When his actions stop, you open your eyes and nearly jolt when you realize how close he is. His expression is conflicting, and his eyes scan your features, but he steps back when he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“All done.” He clears his throat, giving you enough space to slide off the counter. Turning to look at yourself, your face is much less red, and even a little less puffy. It makes you wonder how many crying girls Jake has had to comfort, and unfortunately, it’s a thought that surprisingly discomforts you. Coming up behind you, his hands gravitate to your hair and his fingers softly run through the strands, being careful not to tug. He flattens any imperfections and pulls it all behind your shoulders, “See? Not terrible at all.”

His eyes catch yours again, and your eyes hold his for a moment before you smile, “Thank you, Jake.” 

“Anytime.” He returns a smile, “How about some sleep?”

“I am pretty tired.” You admit, turning around to face him. Jake nods knowingly, snaking his hand behind you and resting it on your lower back. You’re entirely capable of heading to the couch yourself, but who are you to deny a helping hand? 

Jake guides you out of the bathroom, turns the light off, and walks with you down the hall. You’re sure to be quiet when you walk past Josh’s room, feeling unsettled by the fact that he has no idea you’re even here. While you’re coming closer to the living room at the end of the hall, Jake turns you to his bedroom. Before you can utter a word of protest, you’re walking through the threshold and Jake is flicking the switch to turn on the lamp in the far corner of his bedroom. 

The bedroom is dimly lit– the covers in slight disarray from him leaving his bed to answer the door. Like Jake, his room is dark, comforting, and, for lack of a better word, mysterious. The decorations on the walls and surfaces don’t give away much about him, other than the fact that he’s fascinated by pirates, oddly enough. In the opposite corner of the lamp, there are guitars presented on stands, and an amp just beside them. You’re stunned, feeling as though you’re intruding on a private part of his life. 

To you, your bedroom is your sanctuary. Only a select few are permitted to tread such confidential territory. It’s not like Jake has a “Stay out!” sign attached to his bedroom door, but still, this feels like a rite of passage. A look into his life outside of what you’ve always known.

“Jake—”

“Relax,” he chuckles from behind you, figuring how you might interpret this gesture. “You can stay in here while I sleep on the couch.”

Well, that’s awfully generous. “Jake, that’s kind of you, but you’ve already done so much for me. I can sleep on the couch— I promise it’s fine.”

He waves you off while stepping around to approach the bed, as a way to say “Don’t be ridiculous.” Fixing the covers, he pulls them back and motions to the open spot. “You deserve comfort. Not the couch.”

Your feet shuffle in his direction, gravitating toward the plush mattress. “Okay…” You’re uncertain, but Jake’s expression softens you, “Is it really that comfortable? I’d argue that the couch is pretty damn close.”

“Only one way to find out.” He smirks, happy to see sparks of your snide self coming to the surface. Playfully rolling your eyes, you kick off your shoes and sit on the bed, turning to push your legs under the covers and lay back against the soft mountain of pillows. 

“Oh my…” The words shutter from your lips, genuinely surprised. The sheets are still warm from his previous laying in them, and it only adds to the overwhelming comforting sensation. 

He chuckles, his lips flashing his satisfied smile from your involuntary reaction. 

The air from the pillows and mattress deflates, creating a molding sensation, and hugging your every curve. It’s… heavenly. Perhaps all that crying made your body incredibly sore and tired, but that’s quickly a distant memory when you're practically melting into Jake’s bed. 

Jake pulls the covers over you, engulfing you in a heavy plush comforter that’s saturated with his scent. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nuzzle deeper into his pillows and grip the edge of the comforter, pulling it up just below your chin.

“What’d I tell you?” He laughs, his eyelids relaxing to admire how comfortable you look in his bed. 

“You were right.”

“Music to my ears.” He teases, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Okay…” While you can sleep, and you are tired, you hate watching Jake turn to leave, reaching for the light switch and sparing you one more glance. “Jake–” He freezes, his fingers resting on the switch, looking at you over his shoulder. “I’m not tired.” You lie.

“Oh.” His hand falls, and he turns around, stepping toward you, “But you said– Is there something wrong?”

“No, I–” You what? “Can you stay with me?”

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. You feel stupid for asking such a question. This entire situation felt unreal; when you came here, you had hoped to confide in Josh, but here you are. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” It was a ridiculous request, he’d never agree. “You don’t have to–”

“I’ll stay. Scoot over.” His words frantically cut you off and his legs move in stride, making you move over quickly. He pulls back the covers and slides in effortlessly. Although, when he settles underneath the comforter, he only leans against the headboard. His legs lay before him, and he peers down at you, “Come here.”

Without thinking, you shift closer, watching him cautiously as he uncovers his lap and pats his thigh. It’s a position you’re familiar with, especially with Josh. The two of you would take turns resting your heads on each other’s lap to rant about various topics. It’s your form of therapy. Though, this feels entirely different with Jake. It is as if you’re entering unknown territory, one you can’t return from.

Still, you rest your head against his thigh, which happens to be pleasantly muscular. It takes a moment before you both relax, silence deafening the room and amplifying your steadying breaths. You hadn’t thought this far before foolishly asking him to stay, but you were unwilling to return to acquaintances with Jake.

“Thank you,” you cut through the silence, your voice quiet, “for being so kind.”

“Of course.” He stares down at you, his eyes settling on the side of your face while your cheek rests against him. You can hear his hand shuffling, although you’re unsure where until you feel his soft touch glide along your hair, pushing the strands back from your face. The act is soothing, your eyes closing to revel in the feeling. His fingers drag along your scalp, applying gentle pressure and a quiet hum settles deep within your chest.

Confliction pulls at your thoughts; just hours ago you were being broken up with and now you’re lying in another man’s bed. Truthfully, a man you hadn’t paid much attention to in the past years. To be fair, it was never on purpose. Your ex-boyfriend was never fond of male friendships; Josh was hardly an exception. You silently curse yourself for missing out on Jake. He’s just as sweet and kind as his twin; selfless, generous, and attentive. All traits he’s presented in just one hour. You imagine the years you could’ve spent experiencing it first-hand. If only you hadn’t spent them pushing him away for the sake of your ex. 

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You mumble. 

“Why? For what?” His movements halt, and your eyes open, your head turning to look up at him. His eyebrows are synched, riddled with concern.

“Not being your friend sooner.” You confess, now reflecting on all the times he obviously tried, but you were dismissive. “Listen, if I was ever mean to you–”

“Don’t.” He stops you, shaking his head and resting his hand against the cheek that once rested on his lap. “Don’t do that. You’ll only upset yourself further.” 

“But–”

“There is no ‘but.’” He repeats his earlier phrase. “We’re friends now. We have time.” 

Although he and Josh are certainly twins, they feel so… different. The connection that’s forming with Jake frightens you; it’s unknown and uncharted. With Josh, your friendship was immediate and effortless. With Jake, however, this newfound friendship doesn’t feel very friendly. Something tells you that the way you both say the word “friends,” it’s foreign and not entirely what you want.

Think realistically, you tell yourself. Perhaps sleep deprivation is manipulating your thoughts. For God’s sake, you’re emotionally vulnerable and the wounds are still bleeding. 

“I know, but,” Despite his disapproval of the word, you use it anyway, “we could’ve had more time.” And had Jake been fully integrated into your life sooner… Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe if you had met Jake before him…

“Hey.” his voice softly protests, and he lifts your head from his lap, moving to your level and laying right beside you. He lays face-to-face with you, examining the hills and curves of your face, accentuated by the dim lighting from his warm-toned lamp. He sighs, absently bringing his hand to your face and brushing the loose hair behind your ear, “I promise, it’s okay.” 

You nod, taking his word for it, even though you still feel unease and uncertainty. Sliding his hand just behind your head, he guides you to rest on his chest as he turns onto his back, staring intently at the ceiling. Your cheek molds against him, his body heat reddening the soft flesh, no doubt. Chasing comfort, you sling your arm over his waist and you’re surprised by how natural the position feels. Your leg intertwines with his, settling between them, as his arm wraps around your shoulder. His heart pounds in his chest, and regardless of his calm demeanor, his pulse is racing. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“I wish I knew you were this great sooner.” You laugh weakly against his chest, feeling him pull you in closer. 

“Me too.” He admits with a sigh, subtle disappointment lacing his tone. 

A comfortable silence falls, the only sound being the faint pounding of his heart and gentle exhales through his nose. Your eyelids grow heavy, your mind only focusing on the pattern of his breathing and the beat of his heart. A large yawn overcomes you, and you sigh deeply as it exits your lungs, your eyes settling on the open door. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“The door’s open.” You point out.

“That’s okay.” He turns to follow your gaze.

“What if Josh sees us like this?” With some explanation, he wouldn’t care, but a heads-up wouldn’t hurt either. You can only imagine how disconcerting it’ll make Josh feel if he were to walk in on his best friend cuddled up with his twin brother. If you had given it more thought, and hadn’t let your emotions dictate your every decision tonight, you would’ve been more cautious. However, Jake shuts down that thought. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’m not moving.” He decides, and when you look up at him, his eyes are closed. You decide to do the same, paying attention to the way his heart rate slows as he relaxes and, in turn, relaxes you. Jake’s arm holds you firmly, and your hand slides from his waist to his chest, resting against the solid flesh. Sleep follows shortly and engulfs you both in a comforting embrace.

Thump-thump.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taglist & tags:

@hailthegodsong @demolitiondanchipsversion

[cherubcameron]

Love Espresso

Chapter 8: Wildflower

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: after her breakup with Rafe and him kicking her out. Her best friend offers her a new job and a place to stay. But when Rafe comes back from Morocco. He realizes he’d made a grave mistake. Will Sofia go back to him? Or will she decide that her new life means more to her than him?

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Sofia blinked away her surprise; he was right in front of her. She couldn’t help the way her heart swelled at the sight of him. Her Rafe.

He looked just as stunned to see her. His footsteps faltering as he got closer to the front door. In his hands, were his grocery bags.

“S-Sofia?” He repeated, almost as if he’d hope he wasn’t imagining her.

“Rafe.”

Sarah came out the car soon after. Her hand on her belly. Her eyes darting from Sofia, to John B and then to Rafe. The tension in the air is palpable.

“You guys came back early…” John B says, breaking the tension like a knife. Sarah smiles, grabbing a bag from Rafes hands.

“We just needed some milk. But you know how I need my pregnancy snacks.” Sarah says. She made her way towards John B, handing him the bag. He took it from her.

“Uh… we’re going to leave, you two alone to talk.” Sarah says, grabbing John B’s hand. They leave towards a different part of the house. Sofia crosses her arms; unsure on what to do with herself.

She hadn’t realized how awkward this would be. Her momentum completely disappeared. Rafe scratched the back of his head. His other hand still holding the groceries, Sarah hadn’t taken.

Sofia couldn’t help but stare at his arms. Her mind wandering; his cheeks turned pink. She was the only one who ever managed to make him blush. He’d missed the way she would look at him. He’d missed her, so much.

“Sofia.” He said again, this time a little more hoarsely. “Why’re are you here?” It came out harsher than he intended.

Sofia eyes darted to the ground. Her cheeks heating up. “I thought it was time you and I finally talked.”

Sofia’s hand caressed Rafe’s cheek. Her eyes boring into his. Her eyes shone like stars as she stared at him. Rafe felt his own cheeks flush.

“Stop staring at me like that. It’s going to make me kiss you.”

Sofia can’t help but giggle as he says this. Her body moving closer to his so she can steal a kiss. Her hands now on his chest, her body molting against his. His hands move to her waist, holding her close to him.

She slowly pulled away, “Que Lindo tu ves.” Her hand continuing to caress his cheek. He blushes further. His hand reaching up to play with her hair.

“Is that right?” Rafe smiles up at her, his eyes staring into hers. Today it’s decided to lean towards looking more green.

“Oh? You know what that means?” She teased, giggling as he grinned at her.

“Had to learn my girls language.” He pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Though, don’t ask me to speak it yet. I sound terrible.” He laughs. She laughs along with him.

“Hey at least, you’re trying.” She kisses his nose. “Let me hear it.” Rafe crosses his arms and lets out another chuckle.

“You’re going to cringe at how terrible my Spanish sounds.” He says, his eyes roaming her face.

“Practice, makes perfect. No?”

Sofia played with the hem of her skirt; as she sat next to Rafe on his couch. The cup of water he’d gotten her, sat abandoned on the coffee table.

“This doesn’t have to be awkward.” Rafe says. His head ducked low as he doesn’t stare at her. “We’re here to talk.”

Sofia nodded, “Then can you please look at me?” Her voice comes out a bit hoarse. Like she’d hadn’t spoken in ages. But really, her throat was dry. She reaches for the cup of water. But then lets her arm fall.

Rafe slowly looks up; he looks like a little kid almost. Reduced to a vulnerable state. He’d always been like that with her. Always stripped of any facade he tried to create.

“Why did you do it? Was that your scheme all along? Pretending to be in love with me or some shit?” He ripped the bandit right off. He didn’t want to keep tiptoeing around the issue anymore. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity. He finally got her here to talk. And he was just going to get he answer he wanted; straight. The anger he thought he was done with; resurfacing.

She’d appreciated him for it. She knew she would haven’t been able to be so straight forward. She’d been too afraid to be.

Sofia breath in a breath and let it out. “My dad had told me about this deal. Hollis had tried to ask him to involve me in getting you to agree on investing in Goat Island. It sounded scammy to me. And at the time, I couldn’t imagine doing something like that to you. And then when—”

Her eyes finally turned away from him. Remembering that awful day.

“I had went looking for you. To tell you what my dad had said. I found you at the club. I overheard you talking to Ruthie and Topper. She’d said that, since you live with a pogue. You might not be up for whatever it was Topper was planning to do. I’m assuming it’s the rezoning. And then… I heard you.”

Rafe’s eyes widen. His heart sinking. She wasn’t meant to hear that.

“You said that just because we hooked up. Didn’t make me your girlfriend.” Her hands were tightly intertwined together. Her eyes no longer even looking at him. Now it was her turn to duck her head. “How you weren’t living with a Pogue. That you had standards.”

Rafe in took a sharp breath of air. Letting it puff out. “Shit.” He said. He rubs at his head; now staring at her.

Sofia only ducks her head down. Tears began to brim her eyes. It was laid out bare in front of them. The start of the doom of their relationship.

“Sofia, please look at me.” He says hoarsely. “I didn’t mean those things. I promise, I just didn’t like how— you know how Ruthie is like.”

Sofia scoffed, looking away from him. “But you still said those things, Rafe. What was I supposed to do?”

“Talk to me! Not fucking betray me!” He finally snapped. Sofia flinches as he yelled at her. He’d never done that before. Never once raised his voice at her. She wasn’t used to it.

She’d seen him, yell at others. But never her. Being on that side of it. It feels wrong, like as if she woken up at the wrong side of the bed.

He instantly deflates the moment; he notices her flinch. “I’m-I’m not trying to argue with you.”

Rafe remembered, how he felt the moment he found out. He felt his whole body go numb. There was no way. Not Sofia. Anyone but Sofia. She would never do that to him. His angel of a girlfriend. Fiancée. No, no, no.

He loves her, he would never do anything to hurt her. So why did she hurt him? After the phone call, he felt his tears brimming his eyes. He felt his heart feel like it was on fire. He couldn’t believe it. His Sofia had betrayed him.

Rafe wiped away at his eyes. No longer able to contain his tears. His hands shook.

“I love you Sofia. I love you, okay. I didn’t mean to fuck this up. I shouldn’t have said those things. But you could have talked to me. We could have… we wouldn’t be here. And I’m not trying to completely fault you in that.” His voice came out broken. Like he couldn’t speak properly.

He looked at her, his Sofia. Her beautiful eyes brimmed with tears. He wanted to reach over and wipe them away from her eyes. Wanted to fix everything that hurt her.

“I’m sorry, I know it won’t fix anything. But I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean for you to lose—” Her eyes casted down away from him.

The silence engulfed them. Now it felt like it would be like pulling teeth. He didn’t want this to be the end of them. He waited for her to continue with batted breath.

“I didn’t mean for you to lose everything.” She whispered. Rafe felt his heart clenched.

For a long time, he thought he cared about the money. But now… all he cared about was having her back. He remembered the conversations he’d have with Kiara. He never thought he’d ever become close to her. And he still wouldn’t consider her to be. But he’d told her about Sofia.

He realized even when he wasn’t around Sofia. He managed to make room for her in the conversation. He wished he could take back the things he said about her. He didn’t mean them. Now here was the consequence to those words being uttered.

“I love you Rafe. I was upset and I did the first thing I could to hurt you. And I regretted it the moment I did. I regretted the moment I realized you were serious about us. I wish I could have just spoken to you. I tried to make you back out. But it’s been too late. I’m not here to ask you to forgive me. You don’t have to forgive me.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. The distance between them, he couldn’t recall being close to her. He sank onto his knees and practically crawled to her. He gripped her hands in his. He was a starved man. The time away from her was unbearable. Felt like a shot in the heart.

“I remember I told you that I didn’t care what you did. The day I proposed to you. And now… now that you’re here in front of me—”

He placed his head into her hands. His tears slipping down his face. “I don’t want to lose you Sofia.” He sobbed.

Sofia felt her tears fall down her own face. Before she knew it, they were embracing each other. She didn’t know if this meant they’ll be together. But in this moment, they were two souls who had found what they were searching for.

Sofia is listening to:

Rafe is listening to:

[maretinelli]

NOTHING WITHOUT YOU

DadDaniel Ricciardo X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n and Daniel's first daughter is born and everyone's feelings are on edge for having such a sweet and cute little girl like Anne.

Words: 1.9K+

Warnings: Nothing. Just cute, cute, cute. And newborn baby.

Author: English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes that may appear in the story. I love, love, love writing about babies.🥹 This could also be part of the universe of "OUR GIRLS" and I will be writing more about them. But you can also read them separately, no problem!

MASTERLIST

The room was silent, lit only by the soft light of the room. The air still carried the energy of what had happened a few hours ago, when Anne had finally arrived into the world after 14 hours of labor. Now, time seemed to slow down as Daniel held the little girl in his arms, completely enchanted. As he walked around the room with the baby in his arms.

Y/n was lying in bed, her muscles still sore and her body exhausted, but nothing could take away the happiness that filled her chest. She watched Daniel with Anne, seeing the sparkle in his eyes as he held his daughter as if she were the most precious thing in the universe.

He stroked the baby's rosy cheek with his thumb, his face plastered with a tender smile. Even asleep, Anne looked peaceful, her chest rising and falling in a delicate rhythm of breathing.

"You have no idea how much I love you already, little girl" Daniel whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I knew what happiness was, but then you came along and... well, now I know I was wrong."

He blinked a few times, trying to hold back the tears, but he was unsuccessful. One slipped down his face and, before it fell on the baby, he quickly wiped it away.

"Damn, I have to be careful, don't I? Soon you'll be bathing in Daddy's tears."

Y/n let out a weak laugh, joy filling her heart even more. Daniel looked at her with a guilty but tender smile.

"Tell me, love, how is it possible to love such a small person so much?"

Y/n sighed, feeling her eyes well up too. Yes, she was exhausted. Every muscle in her body remembered the effort it had taken to bring Anne into the world. But if she had to go through it all again, she would do it without hesitation, just to have that moment, to feel the warmth of her daughter in her arms and see Daniel completely in love with the baby they had made together.

"I don't know either, but I feel exactly the same way," she murmured, her eyes fixed on Anne. "And I would do it all over again, without thinking twice, just to have her here in our arms again, my love."

Daniel smiles at his wife, stopping his pacing for a moment in the room. But then he looks back at the baby in his arms. Totally enchanted.

"She has as much hair as you do" Y/n commented with a tender smile.

"And her mouth," Daniel countered. "Which means we're going to have problems when she grows up, because that girl is going to be too beautiful."

Y/n laughed, and Daniel approached to steal a quick kiss from his wife before looking back at Anne, still impressed by the little life that was now part of them.

He never imagined he could feel something so strong. Anne had just arrived, but she had already changed everything. And he didn't want it to be any different.

And then, Daniel approaches his wife in bed and bends down to hand over his daughter, who was a little restless in his lap, probably hungry again.

"Well...our life changes" He begins, as soon as he makes sure that Y/n had taken Anne in her arms. "How did we live without you all this time?" The pilot asks his daughter, as if she had a good answer. And then the tears of happiness end up falling from Daniel's eyes. "How did me and mommy live without you all these years?"

At that moment, the words filled with emotion hit Y/n hard, and at that moment, tears came violently. Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was the overwhelming love she felt for that little girl. Or maybe it was the way her husband spoke, completely surrendered to his father's love.

"We were practically nothing without you, daughter" She whispers, smiling at Anne.

Daniel let out a light laugh, shaking his head. He quickly wiped his tears with the back of his hand and looked at Y/n with a goofy smile. "If someone told me I would cry this much after becoming a father, I would never have believed them."

Y/n laughed softly, still feeling the tears flow, but unable to stop herself from smiling. "I think it's going to be like this forever, Danny. Welcome to fatherhood."

The hospital room was delicately decorated, filled with pink balloons, sent by family and friends as soon as they found out that Y/n was on her way to give birth.

Some balloons had messages written in bright letters, such as 'Welcome to the world, Anne!' and 'Congratulations, Mommy and Daddy!', making it clear how much that little girl was loved even before she was born.

On the table next to the bed was a handwritten card from Y/n's parents, congratulating them and mentioning how they were forming a beautiful family. Next to it, a large pink teddy bear lay, a special gift they had sent along.

Anne was already fed and comfortable in Y/n's arms, and now her small, warm body was beginning to relax. His eyes slowly closed, surrendering to peaceful sleep.

Daniel sat in the armchair next to Y/n, watching his daughter with an enchanted smile. His chest filled with an almost surreal pride every time he looked at Anne. It was hard to believe that this little girl was theirs.

"You have no idea how many people are eager to meet you, my girl," Daniel began, leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair as he looked at the baby. "Grandpa and Grandma are already counting down the minutes. Your uncles and aunts too. Lando sent a message saying he wants to teach you how to drive before you even learn how to walk... but, well, he can just sit there and wait."

Y/n let out a low laugh and shook her head. "For God's sake, I hope he's joking," Ella said, still not taking her eyes off Anne.

Daniel smiled and leaned a little closer to his wife and daughter. "And you know, little one, there's a very special place you're going to get to see. The paddock. It's where mommy and daddy spend most of their time... and I can't wait to take you there." He paused, his eyes full of affection, before continuing. "You'll love it, I'm sure. But I'll warn you right now that when you're a baby, they'll carry you everywhere. And if you take after mommy, you'll be the smartest little person on that grid."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart melt. She could already imagine Daniel holding Anne in the pits, protecting her from the loud noises with a special headset, and the photographers capturing that unforgettable moment.

As if she were hearing everything, Anne, even though she was asleep, opened her tiny mouth in an involuntary smile.

Daniel's eyes widened and he let out a low laugh, pointing at his daughter excitedly. "Look at that! She's already excited to be part of the racing world!" He joked, his eyes shining with happiness.

Y/n laughed, feeling a wave of love run through her body. "You don't miss one, do you, Ricciardo?" She teased, stroking the baby's soft strands of hair.

"Never." He says looking at his wife. Nothing less than a loving and grateful look. Thankful for the sweet and cute little girl they had.

The pilot approaches his wife and places a warm kiss on her forehead. Y/n closes her eyes for a second, feeling the warmth of that kiss and letting herself be enveloped by the peace of that moment.

He then lays his head on his wife's shoulder, both looking at their daughter. "I still can't believe we did this."

Y/n chuckles softly. "We did. And look how perfect she is."

"Yes she is!"

Daniel sighed, still resting his head on Y/n's shoulder, and smiled as he watched Anne sleep so peacefully. "You know what's crazy? I thought I had already lived the best moments of my life... but then you showed up. And then her."

Y/n turned her face slightly to look at him, feeling her heart warm. "You say it like I just appeared out of nowhere."

He chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder. "Well, you kind of came out of nowhere and messed everything up, but in the best way possible."

She rolled her eyes, laughing. "Daniel Ricciardo, always over the top."

The pilot lifted his head and looked at her with a small but affectionate smile. "Not this time. Because honestly, I don't know what I did to deserve you two."

Y/n felt her eyes well up again, but this time it wasn't just emotion, but genuine happiness. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think Anne and I are pretty happy to have you too."

Daniel smiled, leaning down to kiss the tip of his wife's nose before looking back at his daughter. "She doesn't even know how lucky she is to have you as a mommy."

Y/n gently caressed Anne's tiny back, feeling her chest explode with love. "And she has no idea that she has the best father in the world."

Daniel let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "We're going to be those parents who cry every time she has a first, aren't we?"

Y/n laughed, nodding. "Absolutely. The first time she crawls, her first word, the first day of school... and don't get me started on the day she actually drives, because then I can't guarantee you won't freak out."

Daniel's eyes widened, feigning despair. "I don't want to think about it! To me, she'll always be this tiny thing that fits in my arms."

Y/n smiled, squeezing her husband's hand lightly. "Well, we have time until then. For now, we just need to enjoy every second with her."

Daniel agreed, letting himself get lost once again in the sight of his daughter sleeping so peacefully. His heart felt like it was going to explode with love.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Never, in all his years of racing, winning and adrenaline, had he felt anything as intense as that moment. And he knew, with all the certainty in the world, that nothing would surpass the happiness of having his family by his side.

"We'll handle this, won't we?" He whispered with a light laugh, his voice low and soft.

Y/n smiled, feeling the familiarity in that gesture, as if, despite the change Anne had brought to their lives, there was still a great connection between the two.

"Of course. We always manage to get things done, don't we? We're a team."

"A good team," he agreed, looking at her with a slight smile. "But if you need a break, just let me know. We'll share everything... even if it means I stay up at night with her." Daniel made a funny face, winking at Y/n. "I'm great with babies. I've learned, I swear."

Y/n chuckled softly. "I'm starting to believe it, Ricciardo. But I'm going to hold you accountable, okay? I want to see that fatherly talent in action."

"Leave it to me. I'll find some good excuses to do the hard work," the pilot joked, giving her a light nudge.

She looked at him fondly, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to have disappeared, leaving only the joy of being together, forming a family. "I love you, Danny." She said it simply, but full of meaning.

"I love you, Y/n"

[cheshireliam]

"My Ideal Life of A Doting Love" Story Event: Chapter 1

Azel Radwan

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

After some time of living together with Tanzanite's Living God in a isolated castle in the desert—

I noticed something strange about my lover.

…

Emma: Prince Aze— I mean, Azel. Lunch is ready…

Emma: … What are you doing?

Despite having retired from his duties as Living God and supposedly enjoying a peaceful life, Azel was sitting at his desk and reading a book upside down.

Azel: Isn't it obvious?

Emma: No, it's not. Is that how that book is meant to be read?

Azel: Oh.

As if he had only just realised that the book was upside down, he nonchalantly flipped it right side up and cleared his throat.

(Something's not right. He was definitely up to something before I came, wasn't he?)

Azel: Wrong.

Emma: What kind of excuse is that?

Azel: More importantly, I'm hungry. I thank the ever-dedicated Emma for today's meal.

(… It's bothering me.)

…

On another night,—

(… Mm… I'm awake…)

When I woke up while it was still dark outside, I noticed Azel wasn't next to me.

I sat up and looked around to see that the balcony window was left slightly ajar.

Sitting by the window, illuminated by the massive moon worshipped by the people of Tanzanite, Azel was engrossed in reading a book. He was dressed in his familiar divine robes because as he always said, "it's best to wear comfortable clothes at night".

He didn't to seem to notice I was awake.

(He looks so serious.)

Although I was mesmerised by his beautiful profile under the moonlight, I quietly slipped out of bed.

I crept closer to him silently, but right when I was about to reach him, Azel turned to face me.

Azel: Are you an assassin or something?

Emma: You noticed.

Azel: Of course I did.

He claimed that he noticed me approaching, but he hurriedly shut the book and hid it behind his back.

Regardless of whether he realised this or not, his behaviour only made me all the more suspicious.

Emma: What book were you reading?

Azel: … A highly classified document related to national secrets. If an outsider saw it, I couldn't let them live.

Emma: Reading something so important at this late hour?

Azel: Is there a problem?

Emma: Azel… has anyone ever told you you're bad at keeping secrets?

Azel: Never. If anyone dared to, they'd be thrown into a nightmare so torturous they'll never wake again.

Azel stood, effortlessly scooped me up in his arms and tossed me onto the bed.

I tried protesting that our conversation wasn't over, but before I knew it, I was swiftly wrapped in a blanket and completely immobilised.

Azel: Go to sleep. You will sleep right now. Immediately.

Emma: I'm wide awake.

Emma: … Maybe I'll fall asleep if you sing me a lullaby.

Azel: What age toddler are you?

Emma: There are adults who fall asleep to music too, you know?

Azel: … Why would a god bother to know the customs of mere human beings?

(If I say this, he'll definitely get annoyed and give up on making me sleep.)

(Then I can press him further about that book—)

Just as I was getting ready to interrogate him, Azel started singing with an awful facial expression.

The lyrics didn't sound like they belonged to any modern language, so I couldn't understand them, but his deep and calm voice sang so beautifully and soothingly it felt almost magical.

(I didn't think he'd actually sing. He's surprisingly good at it too.)

(… He looks really embarrassed… but this is exactly what makes him so…)

(Oh well. I guess I'll let him off the hook tonight because of this song.)

…

However, Azel's suspicious behaviour continued.

… To the point where I began to worry he might be dealing with a serious problem.

…

Emma: You're coming clean about everything today, Azel.

Azel was acting strange that day too, sneaking around in the hallway.

Determined not to let him slip away, I spread my arms wide and blocked his path.

Azel: What's this about…? "Come clean"? I haven't done anything.

Emma: That's a lie. You threw something out of the window the moment you saw me, didn't you?

Azel: It was trash.

Emma: Then I'll go pick it up.

Azel: No need.

Emma: …

Azel: …

(We're just going in circles at this rate.)

Emma: Azel—

At the same time I opened my mouth to put an end to this, Azel grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall.

(!?)

With both my hands pinned, I was caught between Azel and the wall.

(… What's this all of a sudden?)

His mysterious eyes resembling a night sky full of stars gazed deep into mine.

His beautiful hair, shimmering dreamily under the sunlight, gently brushed against my cheek.

(He might be able to hear my heartbeat from this close…)

Azel: …

Emma: … Uhh…

Azel: …

Emma: Azel?

Azel: …

Emma: "Damn it… I pinned her against the wall without thinking, and now I have no idea how to explain myself."

Azel: That's not it. Stop doing that annoyingly accurate impersonation.

Emma: Yeowch!

After giving my cheek a hard pinch, Azel gently rested his forehead against mine and sighed.

Azel: It's just—…

[mommyslittlebird]

A Superhero Like You

Mommy!Wanda x Little!Reader

After a weekend trip with your friends takes a turn for the worse, you have to explain to Wanda why you broke the rules.

CW: hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol and drug use, substance mixing, bad drug reactions, mentions of punishment, spanking. No explicit smut but still 18+.  All characters are over the age of 18.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: My trip this weekend went fine, idk what you’re talking about 👀.

You were in trouble. Big trouble, if Wanda’s stern, displeased look was any indicator.

You’d spent the weekend on a small cabin vacation away with your friends; your older friends. Not as old as Wanda, of course, who was easily a decade older than you, but friends that were 2-5 years older than you. Just old enough to make you feel cool for getting invited to hang out with them. 

The cabin you were staying in was nearly two hours away, not to mention in the middle of the woods with shoddy cell service. Wanda didn’t like the idea at all, but after plenty of conversation, and establishing several rules, she’d reluctantly agreed to let you go. 

You’d promised you wouldn’t drink any alcohol (even though you were 21), nor any drinks you didn’t make yourself. You promised to call her every night, and text her throughout the day with updates. And, most importantly, you promised to call her to come get you if anything made you feel uncomfortable.

By 9pm the first night, you knew coming was a bad idea.You should’ve called Wanda then and there, admitted your mistake, and let her take you home where you’d be safe with her, but you hadn’t. 

Instead you’d waited until things got so bad, the party was busted by the cops, and Wanda had to pick you up from the police station. 

And that’s how you ended up here, with a very upset Wanda looking down at you while you cowered on the sofa. “Would you like to tell me what happened, little girl?”

“I’m sorry,” you cried, tears already falling from your eyes. You hated this feeling; Wanda’s disappointment after you’d done a bad thing. You always tried so hard to be good. Slip ups were honestly pretty rare, but you had never ever done anything to mess up this bad. You didn’t know how Wanda was going to react. 

“You’ve said you’re sorry. Now I need you to tell me what happened,” she scolded, her tone still harsh and unforgiving. “Or I can take you upstairs right now and we can just skip straight to your punishment.”

You swallowed, wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt at comfort. “Do I still get hugs and cuddles after my spanking?” you asked. You always did get comfort after your punishments, but you needed the extra reassurance that this would be no different, even tonight.

Wanda finally softened slightly, crouching in front of your trembling body. She was upset, but she could still see that you were scared and in desperate need of comfort right now. Regardless of what you’d done, she was always going to take care of you when you needed her. “Of course, detka. After your punishment all is forgiven. But mommy really needs to know exactly what happened first, okay? So I can know what kind of punishment you need. Does that make sense, malyshka?” You nodded weakly. “Is there anything I can get you right now that might help you tell mommy what happened?”

You thought for a second. Cuddling or any intimacy with her would just make you feel more guilty. You didn’t feel like you deserved it right now. “Maybe a blanket?” you requested. “And maybe Thomas too.” You added at the last second. Thomas was a little stuffed triceratops, your favorite stuffed animal.  

Wanda nodded. “Do you want your dinosaur blanket or a different one?” 

“Dinosaurs please.”

“Okay detka, you stay right here and I’ll be back in just a minute.”

You nodded, curling up against yourself as you heard her head up the stairs. Just a moment later you felt the soft fabric of your blanket on your shoulders, and the stuffed dinosaur pressed into your lap. You hugged the plush animal into your chest, rubbing your face against its head. “Thank you, mommy,” you said, muffled by the dinosaur. 

“Of course honey,” she said, sitting down cross legged in front of you. She tried to put her hand on your leg, but you shied away. “Do you need another minute or are you ready?”

You slowly lifted your head, feeling much more comfortable now with your favorite things. “I’m ready.”

She nodded. 

You took a deep breath and then started. “We were having a lot of fun at the beginning. We were being silly in the hot tub, and it was really pretty outside, and everybody had already started drinking but they were just being a little goofy. Then when we went inside and dried off, one of the girls I didn't know so well started talking about drugs. Nothing too bad, just some Xanax, maybe Ambien, a couple things I didn’t know about. But I started to get that bad tummy feeling, so I went on a little walk, just like we talked about. It was really pretty out there mommy. You would’ve loved to see all the cool plants and rocks I found. And the sunset was so pretty.”

She noticed you getting a little off topic, likely avoiding something you didn’t want to talk about. She attempted a gentle redirect. “I’m sure they were beautiful, detka. I’d love to hear all about them later. What happened when you got back to the cabin?”

You went quiet for a second, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You started crying again, darting your eyes around the room to avoid looking at Wanda. “It wasn’t the same when I got back. My bad tummy feeling got really big. They weren’t just being goofy anymore. They didn’t look right, like their faces looked all dizzy and they weren’t acting right either. They couldn’t really walk right and I tried talking to them but I couldn’t understand them at all.” You paused for a few seconds. “I was so scared.”

She tilted her head and cupped your cheek, making you look at her. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you call me? We talked about this, I would’ve come to get you. You promised you would call if anything like that happened. Mommy just wants you to be safe, but I can’t always keep you safe if you don’t follow the rules.”

Your bottom lip trembled. You felt terrible. You’d been so stupid thinking you could handle something like this alone. “I wanted to be a superhero like you, mommy! My friends were in danger and I wanted to be brave and save them like you do! But I’m not like you and I didn’t know what to do and I messed it all up and got everybody in trouble!”

“Oh detka.” She jumped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around you. You struggled against her for a minute, but she held you tight, gently running her hands through your hair. 

“Everybody was getting so sick and I didn’t know what to do, and then I found Kate passed out…” you cried. The words left your body like water through a busted dam. Kate was your best friend, the one who invited you to the party to begin with. “I got so scared I panicked and called 911 and came and took us all away.”

“Honey, I know that must’ve been so scary to see all your friends like that,” Wanda soothed.

“It was the scariest I’ve ever been in my whole life!” you cried.

“I know malyshka. But it sounds like you did everything right. I wish you would’ve called me, but you did everything you were supposed to do in that situation. Even though it was really scary, you were so brave. You made sure everyone was safe and you saved the day.”

You shook your head. “No I didn't, I got everyone in trouble! They were so mad at me, mommy. I messed it all up so bad.”

 “You didn’t mess anything up. They got themselves in trouble. I’m sorry they couldn’t see that, detka.”She positioned you on her lap and rocked you gently against her chest, shushing the sobs that tore through you. It was several minutes before you spoke again.

“Can we go ahead and do my spanking and then we can cuddle again when I’m all forgiven?” You asked. You needed so desperately to be relieved of your guilt and to know Wanda wasn’t mad at you anymore.

“No spankings for you tonight, sweet girl,” She soothed. 

Your heart sunk. You didn’t think you could sleep a wink until your punishment was over and you were forgiven. “No, please! I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore! I can’t wait for tomorrow to be forgiven, please!”

“There’s no spankings tomorrow either, detka. You don’t need to be punished. You’re already forgiven sweetheart,” she reassured.

You frowned, leaning back to look at Wanda. “I don’t understand. You were so mad.”

Wanda nodded regretfully. “I’m sorry I was being so cold when I picked you up, detka. When I got that call for the police, I was so scared something bad happened to my sweet girl. All I knew was that you got in trouble with the police and I assumed you did something bad before I even heard the whole story. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were a very brave girl. I’m sorry I got you worked up about a punishment before I even knew you needed one.”

You paused cuddling back into her chest. She tucked your head under her chin. “Are you sure you’re not still mad at me?” 

Wanda shook her head. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little bit.”

You shifted uncomfortably in her lap. You believed Wanda, but you were still swirling with guilt. Maybe she had forgiven you, but you hadn’t forgiven you. “Maybe I can have a really little spanking? Just a small one before bed.”

Wanda sighed in resignation. She wished she hadn’t gotten so upset with you. It broke her heart to see that you were still so mad at yourself after you’d done something so brave. “If it’ll make you feel better, we can do that, malyshka. But you have to promise to forgive yourself afterwards. You know the rules: after your punishment all is forgiven.”

“I promise,” you swore, wrapping your pinky around hers. 

“That’s my good girl. Now go take your blanket and Thomas upstairs and get ready for me. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

—----

It was truly less than five minutes before Wanda came up to find you sitting naked on the edge of the bed, your blanket wrapped around your shoulder while you anxiously played with the fabric spines along Thomas’ back. 

She sat down next to you, guiding you over her lap. She knew it made you more comfortable to be so close even when you were being punished. “I’m gonna give you 10 my hand, okay? I want you to count out loud for me. You can hold Thomas if you’d like.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said, grabbing the stuffed animal and pulling him under your chest. 

You obediently counted each smack. They were hard enough to hurt, but not so hard you would feel them tomorrow. You started crying around number three, more out of emotional relief than physical pain. Wanda rubbed your now bare back, but didn’t stop. 

The whole ordeal only lasted about two minutes, but she let you cry in her lap for about ten more. “Shh detka. You did so well. It’s all over honey. All is forgiven. Mommy’s not mad at you.” She cooed repeatedly. 

When you finally got your voice back, you whispered “thank you, mommy. I feel better now.”

She tucked you into bed with Thomas, leaving the room to quickly grab some cream. By the time she got back you were already half asleep. She smiled as she watched you rub your face against the soft pillows. She applied the cream before crawling into bed next to you and allowing you to snuggle back into her chest.

“You wanna know a secret?” she whispered. 

“What?” you mumbled sleepily. 

“I think you might be the bravest girl in the whole world. You’re my superhero.”

[shittyutmv]

Palestine will be free. Please help how you can: here's a masterpost. Thank you so much to @/sulfurcosmos for keeping it updated.

ink by comyet swap by p0pcornpr1nce dream by jokublog killer by rahafwabas color by superyoumna horror by sour apple studios farm by guinongtale_au

[phobic-human]

Today 11/1/2024 is the seventieth anniversary of the publication of the Declaration of 1 November 1954 and beginning of the Algerian War of Independence.

The Algerian war was a landmark decolonization war. Algeria had been colonized in the mid 19th century by the French, between 500,000 and 1,000,000 Algerians were killed out of 3 million. The following decades continued with brutal oppression, Algeria was unique because it was legally classified as an integral part of France

The aftermath of the Second World War provided a unique situation. The imperial powers had fought themselves to exhaustion, suddenly formely colonized nation's were able to rise up and begin to cast off the imperial yoke.

The conflict between The National Liberation Front (FLN) and France was incredibly violent. France responded to the revolt with extreme brutality and repression, utilizing mass killings, torture, and concentration camps, 8,000 villages were destroyed and between 500,000 and 1.5 million Algerians were killed. Ultimately the Algerian people prevailed and won independence in 1962. The Algerian War is an important reminder of the horrors of colonialism and the valiant struggle for freedom.

I highly recommend A Dying Colonialism by Frantz Fanon as an excellent look into the Algerian struggle. Fanon once said "having a gun is the only chance you still have of giving a meaning to your death." These words ring especially true today for all people's engaged in a decolonization struggle.

May the independence struggle of the heroic Algerian people never be forgotten.

Long live Algeria

[bloodayze]

LACMA - Flowers

floral still life - elizabeth koning / indian silver gem book or album cover - artist unknown / pairs of bowls with narcissius - artist unknown / indian ivory cabinet - artist unknown / peasent house at éragny - camille pissarro / flowers in a vase - jan van huysum

[tenderscience]

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