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julieloves074 · 10 months

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I want you (Cole Walter x reader)

Summary: When the storm hits the ranch and most of the family is at Will's evening party Y/n and Cole are left to talk in the candle light, which could end either beautifully or tragically as they navigate whatever is happening between them.

Warnings: Death, kissing, swearing

Words: 4.27k

(Not my Gif :) )

“I still can’t believe that I let you take me to that party” I said to Cole as he pulled out candles from the top drawer in the living room.

“I can’t believe that you came,” he turned to me briefly, his eyes beautiful even in the shade of this storm and little light, he turned back to the draw, “I’m glad you were there,” he said, quieter this time, I couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that started to lift the corner of my lips.

“Apart from the fact that I vomited on you right?” I tried to defuse the energy that was building up here with a laugh.

“Eh, could have been worse,” he started and turned around to face me again holding two candles, “Alright this is all of them now,”. We took a couple each and laid them around the kitchen and the living room.

“Can you pass me the lighter from the kitchen?” Cole called from the other room, I picked it out from the ‘anything and everything’ draw that every family has in their house and walked to the other room.

The darkness made it hard to see, but the outline of his frame was as clear as day, it felt as if I knew his frame well enough to find him anywhere.

“Thanks,” he reached for the lighter and our hands touch. As cliché as in every book I’ve ever read and every romcom I’ve ever watched. His hands weren’t soft or rough they were the perfect medium, he’s helped George on the farm since he was young and played football but there was still a compassionate side to him, one that he didn’t like to show.

His thumb brushed over my hand, he looked down briefly and I knew I should pull my hand free and step away, knowing the feelings Alex had for me. Even though he knows I don’t share the same feelings back I would still feel wrong to do this with his brother. Then Cole’s eyes came up to meet mine and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“If you want to start lighting up the candles, I’m just going to check the kids are asleep,” I explained rushing towards the stairs with one last gentle smile. That was another good reminder, everyone else may be at some fancy party but we were still looking after the younger Walter siblings.

Just as I had expected they were all still asleep tucked away just how Katherine had settled them down. The Walter’s slept hard, nothing wakes them up, not even a ranging storm with killer winds apparently.

After checking up on all of them I head towards the stairs again, but something catches my eye as I go to lower my foot onto the first step. A little packaged box on a dresser in Cole and Danny’s room. I tear my eyes away from it and take the first step. Yet just as quickly as I looked away, I looked back to the little brown box with the blue bow.

I stepped lightly to avoid any squeaky board; the box was sat there surrounded with a mix of both the boy’s stuff. I raised my brows in confusion, I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, that I was invading their privacy, but the inquisitiveness got the best of me. If it’s Danny’s, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind anyway.

From the handwriting on the note at the top I could immediately tell that it wasn’t Danny’s, his handwriting much neater, almost cursive, which I still found impressive. It just said my name, I opened the folded piece of paper and had to read over the short note a couple of times before it registered.

‘It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply’

My mom’s favorite quote staring right at me. The quote I told Cole that day when…

***

We had just finished our shift at the cider stand, Will and Alex had already packed everything up into the van. Alex was less than impressed by the fact that Cole decided to come out of his depression cocoon to come and help and help he did. He auctioned himself away for an afternoon and helped us raise over double of the money we needed for the new auditorium.

“You fancy a little detour?” He asked, looking away from the road momentarily with a half smirk my way, I shook my head but a light smile still found its way onto my lips.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, I couldn’t disguise that I was curious, getting to know Cole was hard. Some days he was rays of sunshine and an open book other days, most days, he shut himself out, hiding behind a carless façade. I was guilty of the fact that I wanted him to sweep me away for a while into his own world.

“It’ll have to be a surprise,” he said, the smile still there when he looked bacl onto the road, I may have not been here long yet but I knew the second he took a different turn. We drove through some more woodlands until we came to a clearing, the sky absolutely clear.

When I stepped out of the car a fresh breeze flushed against my skin, it was refreshing.

“So… what do you think?” he says walking ahead of me. I followed not too far behind looking around taking in the surroundings. The river flowed surrounded by more trees and low rocks.

“It’s really beautiful here,”

“Alright come on then!” He shouted louder as he started to run towards the river

“Cole where are you going!” I called back, stood still watching him.

“Well we can’t go home now!” He turned around momentarily, gesturing me over with his hands. I shook my head and shut the car door, following behind him, my hair flowing in the wind beneath my hat.

When I finally caught up the sound of the gushing river was clearer and there he stood on some rocks, his back to me, jacket on the ground. He reached down to grab something, I stepped onto the same rock, more cautiously than him.

“There, for you,” he pushed the flower he was holding out towards me. I eyed him cautiously, his teasing side coming out, “Come on, I’m being nice,” his head tilted slightly.

I gave in reaching for the purple flower, he pulled it back a little with a laugh and I shook my head slightly, he pushed it my way again but lets me take it this time. In the exact same moment, he steals the hat off my head.

“Hey!” I shouted going to reach for it, he moves away, flaunting the hat in different directions, taunting me with it, “This is not fair,” I claimed moving towards him away. He’s laughing and I’m laughing, and it feels like a weight lifted off my chest.

I stop for a second, Cole stops too a moment later, that cheeky smile playing his lips. In that moment of calm I reached for the hat and his coat that was now next to my feet.

“Hey that wasn’t part of the rules!” He called coming after me this time, I’ve suddenly gained the confidence that I won’t fall into the water.

“Oh sorry, didn’t realize there were any rules,” I answered in the same tone, I moved another couple of steps and turned to start running onto the grass. Cole’s arms found their way around me as he tried for the jacket. I turned my head to face him, our faces centimeters apart. He pulled me closer laughing into the back of my neck.

“Okay okay, draw?” He asked his breath still on the back of my neck

“Deal,” I said taking a step forward as his grip eased, his hands followed the shape of my waist until the comforting touch was gone. He took the jacket and laid it out on the rock, laying down on half of it. I sat down next to him on the jacket as well.

“Do you feel any better now?” He asked after a moment of silence, my eyes focused on the river. The last couple of days have been rough, not only was I feeling homesick for New York, it had also officially been six months since the accident. It was all overwhelming, especially with Erin giving me a hard time.

I let out a breath before answering, “Yeah, thanks for this,” I said turning to look at him, he smiled and nodded, his arms followed behind his head. Whilst I knew a part of him took me here to make me feel better, I knew it was so that he could get away for himself too. We weren’t running from reality exactly, but taking a break.

“You know what my mom used to say?” I said laying down beside him, he turned on his side, leaning his head against his arm so he was looking down at me, “she always said that it’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply,” I put a hand over my brows to guard them from the sun, and so I could see his face, hoping he understood what I was saying, I was here if he needed to talk. No matter how much he was hiding behind his persona I knew that he cared.

He nodded and laid back down, taking a deep breath. It didn’t feel like we were there for that long with the sun glimmering on our faces, it wasn’t until a call from Katherine came through that I realized that we’d been here for well over an hour.

“We should probably get back, mom does not like it when we don’t make it home for dinner,” he said getting up and offering me his hand. I squinted my eyes but reached for the help, of course he pulled back his hands ever so slightly. I shooed him away and went to get up myself.

“I’m not falling for that again,” I laughed.

“Oh come on I’m sorry,” he pulled that face where his eyes were the center of the universe it was truly quite mesmerizing. I reached my hand out again grabbing his jacket in the other and passing it to him. I walked a few steps ahead and he put it around my shoulders and we walked back to the car.

***

Underneath all the tissue paper there lays the small, beautiful music box that Parker accidentally knocked over; it was no longer smashed to pieces. I opened it and immediately the little figurine inside started to swirl around and a low song started to play.

I could feel the tears beginning to build in my eyes, my lips shaking. I closed the box and pulled it close to myself, arms around it tightly. The quote was right, these feelings were a blessing and a curse. They made me feel happy and good but on the other hand I feel like I’m betraying one for another.

“So, Y/n are you going to make me this famous hot chocolate of yours?” Cole says from the bottom of the stairs, I push the music box back into the little packages and press the note back at the top laying it back in the exact spot it was before. My heart beating twice as violently as it was before. I try even harder not to make a sound leaving his room.

“Coming!” I whisper-yelled back, in the kitchen now lit up by about a dozen candles it was clear how dark it was outside, I was glad that we managed to clear everything from the yard into the barns before the rain started.

“I’ve got everything prepped,” he said proudly and in the little candlelight it was as if I was seeing his face people for the first time. In the silence, no distractions, and his smile protruding through even the worst of the weather.

“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he retorted, and I looked away with a scoff.

“Yeah, you wish, I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was outside until now,”

“It’ll be alright, it’s predicted to be a minor storm, the ranch has survived much worse. There was this really bad one once when I was about eight. I genuinely thought the wind was going to rip out the foundations of the house, or the rain was going to break through the roof and drown us,” he laughed to himself, pushing the two mugs towards me alongside the chocolate power, milk, vanilla and some other ingredients I asked for.

“I imagine how that could be scary for an eight year old,” I reassure working my magic with my ingredients.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe tonight,” the teasing in his voice clear, he took a step towards me his face beside mine but I focus on the coco powder. It just feels like every time we could be having a moment, something vulnerable and real he disconnects. He’s said he’s a flirt and maybe that’s just that- but then what about the note and my music box?

“Haha you’re just so funny, are you just trying to hide the fact that you’re still scared?” I retort, keeping my composure, pushing his face away with one of my hands, he takes a step back and laughs shaking his head.

“Whatever makes you feel better New York,” he comments watching me heat up the milk.

He holds both our mugs as we make our way into the living room, it’s even prettier in here, he’s started the fire and lit up all the candles around it. I can’t help but give him a smile, there’s a spot perfect for the two of us.

“Go on try it,” I prod after we sit down, he looks down in the mug first and smells it, “I’m not trying to poison you if that’s what you think,”

“Alex would like it if you were,” he laughs lifting the mug to his lip, he takes a big sip and licks the whipped cream off of his top lip.

“Don’t say stuff like that, you guys may fight but you’re brothers it’s bound to happen, but you care for each other and I know he would protect you with all he’s got,” I assure him, he doesn’t say anything back to this, he avoids the subject like the plague even when he’s the one who brings it up.

“This-,” he says instead, looking down at the mug in his hand again, I couldn’t read his face if I tried, one of his brows raises for a split second as if he’s trying to organize all his thoughts about the chocolate. I know that it’s good but, in this moment, I’m metaphorically sat on the edge of my seat, eager to know his thoughts. “Is amazing, sweet and spicy at the same time, who the hell came up with this?”

The second those words come out of his mouth I feel myself beginning to be able to breathe again, the tension in my shoulders dissipates and I reach for my mug, “I did tell you, have some more confidence in me Cole,” I announce proudly and take a sip of the angelic drink.

His eyes watched me, I could feel his stare everywhere on my body, as if he was actually trailing his fingers over my skin.

I put the mug down, half gone already, Cole let out some sort of laugh and shifted closer to me, his hand reached towards my face, and I was frozen. My eyes watching his and his watching mine. Almost automatically my body and face shifted towards him. A smirk quired up on one side of his mouth. He brushed his thumb across my top lip.

“You had a bit of… whipped cream,” he said moving back just enough to show me, he licked it off his finger. Were either of us to move even slightly we could break the distance between us.

I’m scared. Sat here with him like this feels like a fever dream, like any second a sudden move could shatter this illusion, because this couldn’t be real, any second he’s going to pull back with some sort of snarky comment, and I’ll look like a fool.

But he wasn’t moving, and neither was I.

“I saw the music box, you fixed it,” I whispered into the space between us, my voice sounding as though it could break any moment.

“Nothing is ever too broken to be fixed, that’s something else your mom used to say right?” he whispered back, the shadows of the candles and the fire danced across his face.

“I hope you know how much that means to me. Thank you.” I was raw and honest, even with the things between us left unsaid, for the better, he deserved this, “For the music box, for my mom’s quotes, for letting me see the glimpses of the real you,” with each word my heartbeat sped up.

“I would do anything for you if you let me,” He murmured as if speaking any louder would smash this fragile thing happening around us right now. The tip of his finger grazes across my cheekbone, his eyes follow the line. I never feel his touch, just the ghost of it, sending shivers through my body that I try my best to keep from showing.

I scan his face, every beautiful angle and feature that makes him perfect, just the way he is.

I want to. I want to let him in so badly, to let him know every corner of my heart, I want to be fully immersed in whatever this is we’re building here, for him to have me, for me to have him but all that comes out is, “I want to,” because the foundations were building here are rocky and not stable.

His gaze shifts from my one eye to the other then to my lips and again.

“But you can’t because of…” he lets out so quietly I almost miss it

“I don’t have any feelings for him Cole,” there was a shift in his expression at my words, a guilty smile, “but he’s your brother, he’s one of my closest friends and he lives here too, this isn’t just about us, there’s your family,” I argue, but my excuses are sounding weak even to myself.

He moved closer, his knee touching mine, his breath warm.

Without further thought I laced my arms around his neck, running my fingers from the sides to the back pulling him close. A simple kiss, which did not last long enough. It was short, controlled. I pulled back realizing what I had just done. Maybe we just needed it out of our systems.

Still no words were exchanged, we just looked at each other. I knew I needed to move, to get up and out of the room but when his hand found its way to my forearm and pulled me towards him, I just gave in.

His hands explored my neck, cheeks and hair as the kiss became more passionate. I could feel my cheeks glowing a bright red, thankful it would be too hard to see in this light. Finally, he settled them on either side of my face whilst one of my hands found its place on his neck, the other exploring the honey-blonde hair on the nape of his neck.

I don’t know how long we were kissing but when he pulled away to look at me I knew it hadn’t been long enough. Both our chests heaving, me certain that my heart was about to give out. It felt so right I couldn’t let this slip away from me.

I grabbed onto his neck and pulled him towards me again. The kiss wasn’t rough, but it was filled by a burning need. All those months of the back and forth, the uncertain, the toying around the subject and now finally. Finally, I got to feel what this burning passion meant. What I’ve never felt with anyone else.

His hand one hand travelled to my neck, his thumb brushing comfortingly, his other pulling me towards him, I don’t know how much closer we could get until he was pulling me onto him. My legs on either side of his body. Chest to chest. Only clothes between us.

“Cole,” I whispered when his mouth travelled down my jaw to my neck kissing every inch of exposed skin. He paused cautiously, checking with his eyes that I was okay, that he wasn’t taking it too far. I nodded entangling my hand in locks, the hot chocolate long forgotten.

It was a euphoric feeling until my heart stopped when we heard the door open. I pushed off his lap and he helped me up.

“Hey, are you guys alright the lights aren’t-” Alex stopped when he made it to the doorframe to the living room, his eyes quickly found mine, then Cole’s, he hadn’t seen anything, no one would know, but even just seeing us here together, surrounded by candles could give anyone the impression.

“The storm blew out the electric box,” I said, my walls building right back up, keeping this eye contact while I could see the hurt in his eyes was more painful than I could have imagined but I couldn’t look away, then he’d know something had in fact happened. The light came back on with a click in the hallway.

“It’s because of the storm, what happened?” George asked walking into the living room, Katherine beside him, she gave me a weak smile.

“I’m going to check up on the kids, you guys make sure all the candles are blown out, let’s not start any fires tonight,” she added a cheerful tone and a chuckle but the still the tension in the room could probably be cut with a knife. Whether she meant literally or metaphorically I agreed with her, I did not want anything to explode between these two Walter boys.

“She managed to get it to work for a few minutes, but it gave out again, we thought it would be safer to leave the box alone,” Cole confirmed to his dad who nodded in agreement. I didn’t look at Cole as he volunteered to help his dad with the candles in the kitchen.

I thought Alex would say something when we were left alone. It looked like he really wanted to say something, but he just shook his head slightly and ran upstairs. I bit into my bottom lip and closed my eyes. It’s not like I hadn’t told him that I didn’t feel the same way, still the guilt washed over like a destructive wave. I took a deep breath and after a second started to blow out the candles before heading up to my bedroom.

***

I tossed and turned every few minutes in my bed for what felt like hours. I heard someone come out of their room half an hour ago, I assumed it was one of the Walter’s going to the toilet, but the person went downstairs, and was yet to come back up. Something in me knew it was Cole, he probably couldn’t sleep like me.

After another few restless minutes, I let out a huff and sat up in bed. All of the emotions were still buzzing and brewing inside my body. I threw my comforter off me and put on a hoodie and some outdoor slippers. Before I knew it, I was tip-toeing my way downstairs hoping I was doing a better job than whoever had gone down before me.

Walking out the front door I could see the beginning of the sunrise, at what looked like the other end of the world, out there in the fields the first sights of amber and yellow were rising out of the grass in the horizon.

I spotted Cole immediately sitting on the railing looking out at the view. The ranch was truly a magnificent sight, it was breathtaking, how could anyone not fall in love with this place just seeing this.

I stepped on one of the weaker wooden panels which let out a single sound, Cole looked around instantly, but the smile that shone on his face mere hours ago was not there now.

“I won’t break my brother’s heart ever again” he starts solemnly, “But I can’t not want you, how could I not?” he looked at me, the tears in my eyes are again threatening to spill. He hopped down and walked over to me. Nothing more said.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, laying his head on top of mine. I laced my arms around his torse, holding him tightly in the quiet of the post-storm, looking out at sunrise like it was a painting in a gallery to be looked at for hours.

“Your mom was right when she said it’s a blessing and a curse to feel so deeply” he whispered into my hair and I just tightened my hold on him. She was always right, and hell did I wish she was here now to tell me what I can do to make this all stop hurting.

What’s happened can’t be taken back now, the consequences long-term are yet to be seen and I suppose I’ll just have to take it day by day. Navigate this chaos of events and feelings. Hoping that it’ll all work out.

MASTER LIST

#cole walter x reader #cole walter #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #alex walter #jackie howard #netflix #danncy walter #cole x reader

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nikosdaydreams · 4 months

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Team Black I'm so sorry but can we stop going like "☝️🤓 erm acshually the blacks won because rhaenyra and daemons son became king L greens jumphaera nee ner nee ner" every time there's a discussion on Rhaenyra's or Aegon's deaths? Not only is it an exhausting and weird argument, but it's also simply not true.

Yes, a line carrying on is very important in ASOIAF, but at the end of the day, nobody won. As important as it is, it does not mean victory.

Rhaenyra still died thinking her son's death was next. As a mother, how could you feel victorious knowing your young child is most likely days from being killed? And that's without considering the fact that three of her children are already dead.

Aegon only made it six months after her before getting poisoned, having seen Sunfyre die, having mourned both his sons, his sister-wife and his brothers, having been burned and disabled by dragonfire.

Alicent began the war with four children (that she never asked for, mind you) and ended it with none, spending her final days in heartbreak and madness.

Aegon III was known for being extremely depressed throughout his reign. Who wouldn't be, after watching his mother be killed so violently and horribly? They say in his reign, Aegon did not even smile, and it was in his reign that dragons fell out of favour in the Targaryen dynasty.

Jaehaera was also known to be a sad, quiet child. She had watched as her twin brother's head was struck from his body. She had likely heard of her younger brother's violent and inhumane death at Bitterbridge. She hadn't been there when her mother could take it no more and jumped to her death. Her father was poisoned just when they thought he had won. She was then married off at 8 to the son of the man who had ordered the death of Jaehaerys, the son of the woman who had a massive hand in the death of Maelor, and by extension, her mother. Her grandmother, her last living relative, then tried to get her to kill her husband, after which she was placed under house (room?) arrest and she likely never saw her again. Even if she wasn't overwhelmed with grief and pain (which she definitely would be), she wasn't even queen for long enough to make much of a difference.

Rhaenyra and Daemon are dead. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron are dead. Alicent is insane. Otto is dead. Jace, Luke and Joffrey are dead. Jaehaerys and Maelor are dead. Rhaenys is dead. Criston Cole is dead. Aegon III is scarred for life. Jaehaera is also scarred for life. Viserys II is nowhere to be found. Pretty much all of the dragons are dead.

The point I'm making is, nobody wins. All of them either died in fear and horror and fire and blood or survived in horrific mental and/or physical pain for the rest of their lives.

"There are no winners. Only survivors." - Haymitch Abernathy

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blazeymc · 1 month

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One of my favourite ship dynamics that I don’t see enough of is when you have two drastically different people who turn out to be/do what you’d expect from the other

Like, if you had edgy Cole that gives depressed, black cat vibes and silly Jay that gives sunshine, golden retriever vibes and they’re sitting on a bench both with headphones in and on their phones

You might believe otherwise, but Jay is listening to a true crime podcast while reading about the graphic death of a past president and Cole is humming along to Taylor Swift while playing Candy Crush

This is canon, ok? Trust me

#ninjago #ninjago jay #jay walker #ninjago cole #cole brookestone #bruiseshipping #please can i see this more #im begging you

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mydemimonde · 1 year

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my tears ricochet — aemond targaryen x reader one-shot

warnings: angst with no happy ending. mention and description of miscarriage, depression, character death, aemond being an asshole. no beta reading! i like alys but i needed to make her kind of a bitch for this

words: 4500ish

A/N: i hope you like this little piece of writing, took me like five hours lmao. english is not my first language so expect some mistakes. i have an upcoming fic with aemond x oc, if you're interested in reading it, here's a sneak peak. enjoy your reading! ♡

We gather here, we line up Weeping in a sunlit room, and If I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too

The words that left Aemond’s mouth cut deep in your skin. Your heart was heavy, a huge sharp pain was pressing your chest and you felt like vomiting. You were thankful you were sitting, otherwise your legs would have failed you.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, you could only hear his muffled voice, as if it was distant. The air grew thick with tension as Aemond’s words hung between you two, the Sun lighting the dark room.

“Alys and I…”

You have heard plenty of rumours about your husband and that woman in Harrenhal. You refused to believe them, you were sure your husband was an honourable man who loved you and respected you deeply. But apparently it was not like that.

All you could do was stare blankly at the fireplace, no emotion showing in your face, your hands together on your lap and some tears falling down on your cheeks, while he kneeled before you, explaining to you what happened, tears spilling from his eyes at the fact that he betrayed you. His dear wife.

“I swear to you, Y/N” he placed his hand on his chest, his voice broken and barely above a whisper “there is nothing else between us. I ended the matter”.

You stopped a bitter laugh from escaping your lips. Ended the matter? That was far from happening, you were sure of it. That morning, when he arrived with Cole and his men, a brunette lady in a green dress came as well.

Oh, yes. He even dared to bring her to the Keep.

According to Aemond, before he confessed his betrayal, that woman was an important asset to win the war for the Iron Throne against his half-sister and uncle. She could see things before they happened, she had visions and he needed her.

But to you, it was beyond that.

How could he betray you in that way and have the audacity to bring the woman he betrayed you with to your home? How could he do such a thing to you after everything you had to endure?

Memories of the weeks after you lovely wedding flashed through your mind.

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day

“I’m so sorry, Aemond,” you said in between sobs, hiding your face from him. You were sitting on your shared bed after the maester left your chambers. It was your second failed pregnancy, apparently you were not fertile enough for a healthy one.

The world shattered around you, you wanted to cry and scream until your throat hurt, you wanted to set everything on fire. You were not capable of keeping a child safe in your womb, you were not capable of giving your husband an heir.

“Shh, my sweet love,” Aemond’s voice was soft, his hand caressing your back as the other went to take your hands and uncover your face. Your eyes and nose were red and puffy, tears still streaming down your cheeks. He wiped the tears with his thumb and hugged your shaking figure, trying to calm you down. “Listen to me. This was not your fault. None of it”

“But, Aemond, I-”

“No,” he interrupted, looking at you with a serious expression. “Do not blame yourself for this. It is a terrible thing that happened, yes. But by no means was it your fault, I want you to understand that” his thumb stroked your cheek as you regained your breath.

“Aemond, you heard the maester. I’m incapable of giving you a child” water began to pool in your eyes again, remembering what the wise man told you with a sorrowful look.

He nodded. “Yes, I have heard him. But I do not love you less for that. Y/N, I love you for being you, my dear wife. Not for what you can or cannot give me. I only care and crave for your love.”

You believed every word he said, every promise, every look directed at you and every touch he gave you. Oh, how stupid you felt now.

Since you were not looking at him nor saying anything, he took your hands in his. That caught your attention and you flinched, finally looking at him.

With a quivering and threatening voice, you managed to say: “Get out”.

After that morning, you still slept in the same chambers and bed. You slept on your edge of the bed, turning your back to him, while he slept on his side. Sometimes you felt him staring at you, he would try to touch you or talk to you, but you were very clear to him. You needed time to think, needed time to forgive him, and he decided to respect that.

However, after feeling the bed shift every night while you pretended to sleep and hearing his footsteps early in the morning right before waking up, you decided you would not forgive him.

You cried into your pillow every time he left, spending the night in another chamber. Her chambers.

Soon you began feeling terribly sick, you would wake up with nausea, vomiting your breakfast and with awful migraines.

“You are with child, princess” the maester’s words echoed in your head, trying to assimilate them.

“That… that’s impossible” you shook your head and smiled sadly. “I have already lost two. I am not capable of carrying a healthy pregnancy” you repeated the words the maester had told you several moons before.

The old man chuckled. “You are almost three moons in, princess” you blinked. “You need to trust this old man. This one is safe. But listen very carefully” his expression turned serious, your eyes wide with surprise as you nodded. “It is imperative that you follow a healthy diet to keep this child safe. You must avoid all kinds of strong emotions and stressful situations.”

Oh. Right.

You just nodded, taking mental note of his suggestions. “Thank you, master”.

He left your chambers and you stayed there, standing next to the fireplace, a hand lingering on your belly. You were now with child. Aemond’s child. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, thinking about what to do next, but especially about how you were feeling.

Happy? Relieved? Sad? It was all a mix of feelings that made you uneasy. You’ve been confirmed that this was a safe pregnancy, or at least it was if you followed the maester’s instructions. You should be happy, right?

But after remembering what Aemond had told you weeks before and his activities during the nights, you realised that happiness was impossible. You were unsure if after you told him the news, he would stop seeing her. After all, he promised their affair would cease, and he did not keep his word.

The sound of someone knocking on the door pulled you from your trance. “Yes?”

Queen Alicent, your mother-in-law stepped in the room. Her eyebrows were furrowed, a worried look in her face. “My dear, I have seen the maester come from your chambers”. She came closer to you, examining you and taking one of your hands in hers. “Is there anything wrong?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but you could not find the words. “I- uhm” you cleared your throat and looked at your hands. “I’m fine, your Grace”

Alicent tilted her head. “You’re with child, aren’t you?” you lifted your head, your gaze wide and lips parting. She only smiled. “A mother notices things. I have noticed you have been feeling ill. Nausea and migraines” she explained, leading you to sit down on the edge of the bed. “I started with the same symptoms when I had Aegon in my womb. And from the look on the maester’s face, it appears that you and the baby will be safe”

You just blinked at her words. Certainly, mothers can notice things.

“Indeed, your Grace” suddenly you felt like crying. “I do not know how to tell Aemond, he-” you closed your eyes and looked at your hands. You took a deep breath as Alicent caressed your hair. You looked back up at her. “I know he has been seeing that witch every night. I see him do that. He swore to me he would stop, but-”

The Queen nodded and grimaced. She did not like that woman either. It was a shame for her that her (favourite) son would bring her mistress there. The fact that he in fact had a mistress was a shame itself. How could he disrespect his wife, his mother and his whole family like that?

Something inside you told you she already knew. “I’m so sorry, my dear” she hugged you and you felt at peace for a moment. Queen Alicent was truly like a mother to you.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave

After your conversation with Queen Alicent, you decided to tell Aemond the news. For a moment, you hoped that if he heard what you had to say, he would immediately abandon the witch’s side and come back to you. You may still forgive him after all…

The Queen had arranged a feast in your honour. It would be the moment where you would tell him the news, with the rest of the family. You met Aemond in your chambers, right when you were finishing preparing yourself, you were combing your long hair when he entered the room.

His expression confused you. “I am afraid, my love, that I will not be able to escort you to supper. I have some unattended matter in the Council”

You frowned and felt quite disappointed. “But you will be able to attend, right?” you already felt a wave of desperation through your body. “Your mother has arranged this in our honour, you must not be absent.”

Aemond let out an exasperated sigh that took you by surprise. “I will, Y/N. It is just that I will be joining later with Cole, that is all.”

And so you walked to the Great Hall alone. Aegon, Helaena, Otto and Alicent, as well as some members of the Council —except from Aemond and Cole, of course— were already there, waiting for you.

When Alicent saw you entering the Hall with a blank expression and no sight of Aemond by your side, the corners of her mouth curved downwards. She approached you. “My dear Y/N, where is Aemond?”

You lifted your eyebrows. “He said he would be late. He had matters to attend in the Council.”

Her expression softened as she caressed your arm. “Well then, come with me. Let us have a seat and we may wait for him” you followed the Queen and sat next to her, to her right. There was an empty seat next to you, meant for Aemond.

You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, anxiety coursing through your veins as you lifted your head to glance at the doors. You have been there waiting for almost twenty minutes, the musicians were already playing some quiet music, the sound of people chatting filled your ears.

Suddenly, the doors opened. Everyone stood up from their chairs and the music stopped. It was Ser Criston Cole who entered. Alone. He found your gaze in the crowded room, a sorrowful and sorry look on his face.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you had to witness later. Your husband made his way into the Hall, with Alys Rivers on his arm next to him.

One of her hands lingered over her belly.

You heard Alicent scoff next to you, shaking her head at the sight. You, on the other hand, could not utter a word. You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to run away from there. But your feet did not seem to move, it was as if they were glued to the floor.

Aemond met your empty gaze for a few seconds before moving towards the chairs in front of him. He pulled one for Alys, she thanked him with a soft smile that he returned and sat.

You could not stand being there, in the same room as them.

You turned your heels and ran away from there as soon as you could, tears spilling and making your vision blurry as your legs moved fast. You heard footsteps behind you, and a soft grip on your arm made you stop in your tracks. You turned your head and saw Aemond’s eye scanning you, noticing the way your cheeks were damped with your tears.

“Y/N, let us go back to the Hall”

Rage flowed through you like dragonfire. “Get your fucking hands off me!” you yelled with a brittle voice and freed from his grip with a strong tug.

That took Aemond by surprise, his wide eye proving it. You were staring at him like he was the biggest scum in the world. Which he was. And that felt like a dagger through his heart.

“Y/N, my dear, please listen to me” he pleaded with a low voice, trying to reach your hand.

“So now that whore is part of the Council?” you answered bitterly. He did not move nor said anything. “How dare you humiliate me in front of everyone? How dare you disrespect your wife and your mother in such a way?” you spat, nostrils flaring with anger.

Once again, he tried to reason with you. “My love, I promis-” he was interrupted by a slap across his face, startling him.

“Do not fucking call me that” you warned him, waving your index finger to him to turn around and leave to your chambers.

That night, you just let the anger and sadness take over you, sobbing into the pillow as Aemond heard everything outside the door. He stayed there the whole night, his back against the cold door, waiting for you to open it. But you refused to let him in, and so he fell asleep on the floor.

He was awakened by Cole in the early hours of the morning, and since he did not hear an answer when he knocked on the door, he forced it open, searching for you. But you were nowhere to be found.

He called your name, but you did not answer. He just heard some muffled sobs in the toilet, the door was locked. “Y/N? Y/N please, let me in.”

You just muttered a small “Please, leave me alone”. Aemond’s gaze fell to the floor for a few moments, and he was ready to leave you again, you just needed time to think. You would come to your senses again, and you would listen to what he had to say. Everything would be back to normal.

Just when he was ready to leave with Cole, he heard the sound of metal hitting the ground, so he forced the door, worried about you. What he saw made his breath hitch.

You were on your knees on the floor, crying, your hands and the white gown you wore to sleep was covered in blood. Your blood. Your gaze found his, and you managed to yell. “I said leave me alone!”

Aemond fell to your side immediately, ordering Cole to fetch a maester. He began examining you, trying to find the source of the blood, but you were not harmed. He lifted your gown and saw your legs damped with blood as well. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/N…”

“Almost three moons in” you cut him. “The maester said it would be a safe pregnancy, if I followed his instructions. Avoid stressful situations.”

Aemond’s heart dropped listening to your words. He could not say a word for a while, he just kept looking at you. “I-I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Sorry does not change anything” your voice was harsh, your eyes felt like daggers on him. “You chose her over me. You chose her over our marriage, our baby, and now our child is gone. Is gone because of you. You killed it.”

He felt everything around him stop, it was like you took his heart and squeezed hard with your cruel words. But he deserved it. He deserved all your anger, and more.

“Go back to her. She needs you, Aemond, I’m sure she does. The baby she carries needs his father, do not do the same you did to me” you swallowed, watching his reaction.

“Y/N, I told you, we ended everything. She was at supper with me last evening because as you well said, she is part of the Council. She is valuable” he was trying so hard to make you believe his words.

You laughed bitterly. “Do you think I’m stupid, Aemond? I know what you do every night, when I pretend to sleep. I know you go back to her. Every fucking night. You reek of her, Aemond” you sneered at him, letting him see how much you hated him now. “I know for sure she is expecting a child, your child.”

Tears began to spill from your eyes again, but you did not let them fall. You did not wish for him to see you that vulnerable again.

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

After the maester had arrived, he instructed Aemond to leave the chambers. Your words and the way you looked at him with hate, no not hate, repulsion, were still engraved in his mind. As he left the room he heard your sobs, it was a sound that broke his heart. How could he hurt you, his beloved wife? He was responsible for your heartbreak and the loss of your child.

That day he decided he would try once again to have your trust and love back. He sent a maester to Alys’ chambers to give her moon tea. Then, a guard would escort her outside the Keep, a carriage would be waiting for her to return to her home.

He let that affair and bargain destroy his marriage, but he would do anything to amend it.

He went to your shared chambers, it was a cold night, the wind howled outside the Keep and only his footsteps were heard in the corridors. He opened the door, the wind was so strong it threatened to close it, but Aemond was stronger and managed to open it. He expected to see you lying on your bed, resting after the maester gave you some milk of the poppy, but he did not see you there.

Aemond looked around the dark room and found you in your white gown. His heart began to pound fast in his chest, his hands began to shake as he caught sight of you, your feet perched on the window still looking down.

His steps were silent, calculated, trying not to scare you. But you already knew he was there, you heard the door being opened and you knew it was him. You did not look back at him, not even when he was begging you not to do anything insane. He came closer, carefully offering you his hand.

“Y/N please,” his voice gentle yet tinged with desperation. “Step back, please, just take my hand”.

At the sound of his voice, you slowly turned around, facing him with empty eyes. His eyebrows drew together in deep concern, his lips slightly parted. He let out a small sigh of relief as you placed your hand on his palm, but before he could grab it, you gave him what could only be described as a sad smile and slipped through his fingers, letting yourself fall.

Your funeral was held a few days later, Aemond gave Vhagar the command to set your corpse on fire. As Vhagar saw the tears in her rider’s eyes, she let out a loud roar, full of sorrow. Aemond stared at the flames, incapable of moving as his cheeks were wet with warm tears.

As he turned to leave, however, he felt a certain uneasiness. He began looking around the field, and he swore he saw your figure standing behind a tree, watching him. He blinked rapidly, but you disappeared.

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

That night after the funeral, Aemond cried silently as he clung to one of your dresses. It still had your smell, it was as if you were right there with him. In the dimly lit room, shadows danced like spectres, casting an otherworldly ambiance.

It was right there, through tear-blurred vision, that he saw you. Your ghostly figure stood next to the window, looking through it, an apparition bathed in a haunting glow. You were sobbing. Aemond's breath caught in his throat, the ache in his chest growing immeasurably.

“Y/N?” he asked with a trembling voice, standing up slowly to approach you. Your sobbing never ceased as you turned to see him. Your eyes were glinted with a seething anger, the tears you shed were like salt in his wounds, a reminder of the pain he had inflicted upon you.

Just before he could get closer to you, you climbed to the window sill. A strangled cry escaped his lips as he realised what you intended. He lunged forward, his hand outstretched in a futile attempt to stop you, but it was too late. You jumped, slipping through his fingers once again.

Aemond could not sleep well. After that, he began seeing you and feeling you everywhere. During his training, when he could not concentrate and fell on his back missing Cole’s attacks, he saw your figure staring at him from the roof. During his visits to the library, in the solemn silence, he could hear your sobs. During supper, he could feel your hand linger over his shoulder, just like the way you used to do.

He would see your reflection in the mirror, looking at him with pure anger, your face contorted with rage.

Every night, the same thing would happen. He would see you standing next to the window, sobbing, turning to glare at him just to jump afterwards. He had to witness your death over and over again, slipping through his fingers. It was driving him insane.

He was sleep deprived. He requested the maesters to give him something so that he could find sleep. However, your late visits never ceased. You continued haunting him, he did not know what else to do to stop this.

One night, there was a storm raging outside, loud thunders and lightning streaking across the sky illuminated the room. Aemond drank the tea the maester had given him earlier, trying to get some rest.

Your sobs interrupted his peaceful sleep. He rubbed his eyes and saw you standing there, looking at him with a mix of rage and sorrow. Before you could repeat the actions from previous nights and climb through the window, he dashed across the room and fell to his knees.

“Y/N, I beg you!” he pleaded through a strangled cry, his hands clutching his chest. You turned your body to him, watching as he cried before you, his other hand covering his face. “I am miserable without you, my love. I am so sorry for the pain and suffering I caused you!”

Your sobs came to a halt, listening to his desperate laments and pleadings. You approached him without saying a word and he lifted his head to look at you.

“I am living in torment, I am in agony, Y/N. I know I hurt you deeply, I know I deserve all of this” he moved his hands, gesturing at the room. “I’ll carry the guilt of what happened to you and our child with me, always.” His voice was full of remorse, his hands shaking terribly as he spoke.

He swallowed and closed his eyes, feeling the weight on his shoulder starting to vanish. He could not apologise to you when you were alive, the guilt ate him. But now he had the opportunity to do so, even if it was too late.

Your hardened expression softened at his words, feeling your heart clenching at the sight of him like this.

“Aemond.” Your voice came out as a haunting whisper, as if the wind carried it, and it reached his ears, sending shivers through his spine. “I cannot leave this place. I am a prisoner here.” You explained as you extended a hand to caress his cheek. Your touch was cold against his skin, but he closed his eyes and leaned into it.

“You caused me great pain, husband. This is why I haunt you every day and night.”

Aemond’s eyes opened and he rose to his feet. He took your pale cold hands in his and looked into your eyes. “I beg you to forgive me, Y/N. I cannot undo the past, I wish I could. But I need you to do that. You need to be free as well, I do not wish you to continue suffering.”

Your brows furrowed and your eyes became watery. “I loved you, Aemond. I loved you til my very last day.”

“I still love you, Y/N. And I apologise for everything. You were too good for me.” A tear ran down his cheek, a bittersweet smile graced his features as the memories of your happy marriage filled his mind. Fragments of your laugh, your smile, the way your eyes would shine with love as you looked at him. Fragments of your life together before his mistakes.

Your foreheads touched. “I loved you, Aemond. But I cannot forgive you” you whispered and he gulped. He could feel your breath fanning his face, your lips were so close to touching.

Aemond did not know if it would be wise to kiss you, but he missed you so much and longed for your touch, your lips, his body and heart ached.

Your hands were carefully placed around his neck, and you chose to close the distance giving him a sweet kiss from your cold clay lips.

The next day after the ferocious storm, Aemond's lifeless form lay on the ground, next to the window. He was found by Cole and Otto, who walked into his chambers after not hearing word from the Prince all morning.

They gathered around him. His eye was closed, his slightly parted lips holding the faintest trace of a serene smile. His death was sudden, and it was said he died from the pain of losing his wife and child. It could have not been an attack, there were no signs of it, no signs from any wound in his body.

There were no signs of violence, other than the strange marks of slender fingers, like ghostly imprints around his neck.

taglist: @moonlightfoxx

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen angst #aemond one eye #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell #aemond one shot #mydemimondewrites

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bagopucks · 10 months

Text

C. Caufield - Linear Progress

✄————————————

Cole Caufield x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 3.3k

Warning(s): anxiety, mention of depressive episode, sad!cole

These upcoming fics are all things from my notes app from last season, doctored and given a finish so I could post! Some of these are so long it’d be a shame to just delete.

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His smile barely reached his eyes. His laughter was distant and distracted. Cole, so used to keeping good posture to feel like he measured up to those around him, stood about as poorly as a pregnant mother. His gloved hands clasped in front of himself as he shifted his weight from skate to skate.

I couldn’t take pictures of him like that. People would never notice the vulnerable state he was in, but I did. He looked so nervous. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but on the ice. And I knew that’s exactly what was going through his mind, because he’d pulled all the stops that morning trying to get me to call off for him. He’d tried saying he didn’t feel good, then he tried saying he just wanted to lay in bed. Then he tried faking a headache, and he tried tricking me into thinking he had gone back to bed. By the time I got him into the car, Cole’s attitude had done a complete switch. All of a sudden it was like work was the best place on earth. We had parted ways to do our separate things, but when I came down to the ice with my camera, I could sense Cole’s discomfort from a mile away.

“You wanna hit something other than the glass, Coley?” I watched Cole through the lens of my camera. Watched the way he brushed off the chirp with a quiet chuckle and a nod. He just wanted to stay home. I should have let him. Practice was only an hour, but it certainly felt longer. Between everybody’s endless digs on the blonde, and the occasional glances in Cole’s direction from coaches, I could see his facade cracking and fading.

I didn’t capture near as many photos as I would have liked, but my boss would just have to use what the other photographers got. Surely we’d have more than enough. I tucked my camera back into its bag by the time practice ended, watching the boys leave the ice, and eventually walking toward the visitors tunnel. I stopped short though, when I heard a puck slam off the glass. I turned back to the ice, my heart sinking in my chest at the frustration on Cole’s face.

“Fucking empty net.” His voice carried through the empty arena.

This had nothing to do with the empty net in the present. It had to do with the empty net he missed one week prior. That seemed to have started his scoring drought.

“Fuck.” He spat out. My brow furrowed as he skated toward the bench, my body tensing in anticipation as he raised his stick, clearly ready to slam it off the top of the bench wall until it broke. Before he could even bring the stick down, his entire body relaxed. He found reason within his anger. Or maybe he had simply given up. I watched Cole throw the stick aside in the bench instead, saying, ‘fuck it,’ before he stomped down the tunnel toward the locker room.

He had just returned from an injury. Adjusting was normal. Relearning some things was normal. But Cole wasn’t patient with himself. He never was. I carried my camera down the separate hall, half tempted to retrieve Cole’s stick, but ultimately deciding against it. He’d be embarrassed if he knew I’d watched him lash out like that. He hated when people saw any side of him that wasn’t the usual giggly and fun side.

I stole away to my office to finish a few things before I received a message from him, trying to speed up the process of downloading photos to my computer as Cole’s face popped up on my phone screen. I quickly answered the call.

“Hey, babe-“

“I wanna go home.” So much for pleasantries, but I hadn’t expected them in the first place.

“Give me maybe.. fifteen minutes, okay?” Silence followed my request for time.

“Please.” I heard his voice echo, my brow furrowing as I glanced toward my phone.

“Are you in the bathroom?”

“I just wanna go home.” I could have sworn I heard Cole’s voice quiver.

“You can come sit in my office while you wait.”

“I’m okay.” I wanted to pinch my nose. To grab him by the shoulders and shake the stubbornness out of him.

“Why don’t you go wait in the car then?” I bit my lip as I looked back at my computer.

“‘Kay. But.. just fifteen minutes, right?”

My eyes lit up when the photos finally loaded onto the computer.

“Less than fifteen.” I answered, “I’ll be fast.”

I tried to stay true to my word, but when my boss stopped me in the hall, I knew it would be far longer than fifteen minutes. A half an hour longer to be exact. When I got out of her office, I ran as quickly as I could through the building to get to the parking lot. I felt horrible when I noticed Cole’s head lift. Our car the only one left in the players lot.

I tossed my camera in the back and climbed into the passenger seat without so much as a word. I wasn’t in trouble, but I knew Cole wasn’t thrilled.

“You said fifteen minutes.” Cole hadn’t wasted much time getting the car started and pulling out of the lot.

“I’m sorry. My boss stopped me, and- god you know how she is.”

“Talks for hours, yeah.” Cole tried to muster a chuckle. He looked so apathetic. So careless. But not in a freeing or jovial way. He simply looked drained and tired.

“What do you wanna do when we get home?” I asked, glancing out the window at the passing scenery. Christmas was just around the corner. Snow covered sidewalks and streets, and Christmas decor was up everywhere.

“I just wanna lay down.” Cole shook his head. I turned my attention to him.

“You could use a hair cut.”

“Not today.”

“Might feel good.” Laying around and doing nothing in the midst of a funk never helped anybody. As easy as it was to laze around, it usually only made one’s mental health worse.

“You can lay with me.” He was stuck on this idea. Too bad I was stuck on my own as well.

“I’ll lay with you if you let me cut your hair.”

Cole didn’t reply. He bit his lip and ignored the proposal. “I have stuff to do today anyway.” I shrugged. I wanted to be there, but if Cole didn’t let me in, there wasn’t much I could do. So if he insisted on laying around all day, I’d busy myself with cleaning, straightening up the few decorations we had yet to put out, working on Christmas cards. Anything to busy myself while he stayed miserable.

“‘Mkay.”

It was the end of our conversation until we got back to our apartment. I carried my things inside behind Cole, who kicked his shoes off and headed straight for our bedroom. I had to stop myself from following after him. Instead, I dropped my camera bag on the love seat and wandered into the dining room to grab my laptop,

He’d come around eventually. It was what I kept telling myself as I turned on some Christmas music and put the few finishing touches on our customized Christmas cards. I sang along quietly, and set my laptop aside when I finished the cards. I saved the design to show to Cole when he felt better, and shot up from the couch to make a glass of hot chocolate.

I ended up making two, and against my better judgement, I carried one down the hall for my lover.

“Cole?” I toed our bedroom door open, spotting his still body curled up under a mess of blankets. His back was turned to the door, but I could tell he had the comforter pulled over half of his face. I sighed, resting the mug on his nightstand before I placed a hand on his arm.

“Made you some hot chocolate.” I whispered, leaning over to kiss his shoulder. I didn’t know if Cole was awake or not, but the affection was needed nonetheless. I tiptoed out of our room and pulled the door shut behind myself, only to return to my own world of lonely Christmas preparation.

I spent close to two hours putting up the last of the decorations and cleaning. I saved the tiny statues of Hermey and Rudolph for the tv mantle, where they always went, but Cole loved being the one to put them up. I stared down at the statues on the coffee table, placing my hands on my hips as I’ll Be Home For Christmas came on from my laptop on the couch. The cozy atmosphere was almost perfect. I just wished Cole didn’t feel so horrible. He deserved to enjoy his holidays. Not worry them away.

I glanced back toward the hall, hearing an ear splitting shatter as if on cue.

“Cole?” I shouted, panic seizing my chest as I took off through the hallway, making a sharp turn to push our bedroom door open. Cole was out of bed, wearing nothing but boxers, holding an arm out toward the door.

“It’s fine! I’m fine! I got it!” I looked toward the floor to see the mug I’d set on his dresser in pieces. I grimaced. His favorite mug. Hot chocolate ran across the floor, and I was quick to jog into the bathroom to grab a towel.

“Here.” When I returned, I tossed the towel on the floor, covering the small puddle of liquid. “I’ll go grab something to wipe the floor down.. you start picking up glass.” I left the bedroom, going to rummage through the kitchen for my floor cleaner. When I found it, I grabbed a few paper towels as well, returning in record time.

Cole was knelt on the floor, the towel from the bathroom pushed aside as he collected glass from the floor. I noticed the sporadic and heavy rise and fall of his back, the way his chest heaved. His hair covered his eyes, and despite not being able to see his face, I knew he was upset.

“Coley.” I made my way over and knelt next to him.

“I’m almost done.” Cole’s voice quivered. I set the items in my hands down, gently resting my hand on his cheek, turning his head to face me. Cole’s eyes were wet with tears, his cheeks flushed and stained by the tracks of tears that had already fallen.

“Oh, Cole.” I kissed his forehead, shaken by the sob that escaped his lips as he set the collected glass down atop a paper towel. I sat down on the floor and pulled him in. He’d been kneeling before, but he barely thought twice about it when his body fell into my own, back pressed into my chest while I held onto him tightly.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out through broken cries, but I merely shook my head and rubbed his side with one of my hands.

“It’s okay.. everything is gonna be okay.” Cole didn’t have days like these often. Where everything bubbled over and became too much to bear. He was good at keeping himself in check. In fact, he was usually the one taking care of me on days like these. But I never missed an opportunity to assure him I was there in moments when he felt he couldn’t function. When the dark cloud looming over was simply too much to bear. I rested my chin on Cole’s shoulder, pressing occasional kisses to his body to help distract and ease his mind.

“Cole,” I whispered as he started to calm down. He wiped the tears from his cheeks and slowly turned to look at me. “Let’s fix this mess, okay? Then we can relax.” He seemed reluctant to get up, and I knew he’d sit there all day if I didn’t take initiative. “C’mon.” I directed his attention back to the glass, helping him retrieve the last few pieces before he got up to throw them away. I made quick work of cleaning the floor, wiping down any sticky spots before I had stood up to put the towel in the hamper, and throw the paper towels away. When Cole returned, he stood in the doorway, hugging himself for warmth, or maybe still out of discomfort. I turned to look at him, flashing a sad smile.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to..” as if I didn’t know that. As if he hadn’t already apologized. I crossed the floor to meet him in the doorway, wrapping my arms around his body. I gently rubbed his back, taking note of the tight muscles.

“It was an accident. It’s okay.” I whispered, “you wanna talk about what’s been going on?” I looked up at him, earning a quiet ‘no,’ in response.

“Cole, you were just crying. It might help some.” I tucked a lock of his long blonde hair behind his ear, then trailed my hand down his face, following his jaw.

“I just wanna lay back down.”

There it was. That constant avoidance.

“At least lay with me on the couch. All the decorations in the living room are set out.” I rubbed the small of his back, earning a careful nod. “I’m gonna grab a sweatshirt first. It’s a little cold.” I moved my arms around to his stomach, nodding and pressing a kiss to his shoulder before I slipped out of the bedroom.

There was no promise that Cole wouldn’t lay back down in our bed, but I had to trust him a little.

When I got back into the living room, I shut the lights out and plugged the Christmas tree in. I grabbed one of our Christmas blankets and laid it out on the couch, waiting for him as I placed a throw pillow at one end. I laid down and pushed the blanket aside so I could pull it over us later. I grabbed the tv remote and started sifting through channels, smiling at Cole when he finally came through the hall. He still didn’t have pants on, but his sweatshirt sleeves were pulled over his hands, and he had the plastic end of one of the strings in his mouth. As cozy as he could get. I parted my legs for him to lay down between them, and he did with little to no hesitation. Cole’s back rested against my chest, his head finding a home near my shoulder. I wrapped my legs around his own and swiftly covered up with the blanket.

“You finished decorating without me?” I heard him sniff quietly, still recovering from the crying fit he had minutes ago.

“It had to get done.” I rested a hand on his head, gently combing my fingers through his hair. “I left Rudolph for you.” I gestured toward the coffee table with my free hand.

“Are we still visiting my family over Christmas?”

“Absolutely, Cole.” I smiled. “You’ve been looking forward to that since November.” When the silence settled between us, I moved my free hand to rest atop one of his own. I dragged my thumb across his knuckles, traced the lines in his hand, flipped it over to massage his palm.

“I just want it to be over.. ya know?” Cole’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“What do you want to be over?” I matched his volume, continuing to rub his hand and play with his hair. One little change might throw him off.

“I just wanna be good again.” He sighed, turning his head against my shoulder to look up at the ceiling.

“At hockey?”

“Yeah. I can’t even hit the net.” Cole closed his eyes, trying to hide his frustrations.

“Give it time, Cole. It’s all a part of recovery. It’s not a linear thing.” I whispered. “And we’re gonna go visit your family in a week. You should be focused on that. I know you wanna be back on the ice, but if you rush you could hurt yourself.”

“What if they don’t resign me?” My movement halted. I lifted my head from the pillow to peek down at him.

“Why would they do that?”

“Because I can’t play.”

“Cole.” I squeezed his hand. “You’re gonna recover. You’ll get back to playing hockey. Your skill hasn’t just gone away.” I could understand his concerns to a degree, but I knew these worries were all in his head. “If they decide to ship you off it’s because they’re morons. It’ll have nothing to do with your recovery. Injuries happen, and you can’t control them.” His silence was deafening. Sometimes I hated how hard Cole thought about things.

“I really like it in Montreal.”

“Cole.” A tension accompanied my tone. One that made his eyes fall toward the opposite end of the couch. “You can’t trap yourself in this endless cycle of negative thoughts.” I began to play with his hair once again. “What if they do want you? What if you recover so well that they decide to sign you for more years? What if you get a better contract than the last? What if this injury turns you into a superstar?” Cole shifted against me, clearly displeasured by the combative tactic I was using.

“Okay?”

“Cole. Anything can happen. Good or bad. You can’t control it.. so let’s just not think about it. It’s tearing you apart.”

“Because it’s my future! Don’t you get it?” Cole sat up, careful not to hurt me. I was quick to sit up as well, folding my legs criss-crossed on the couch as I watched his head fall into his hands. His once calm breathing began to pick up once again.

“The future isn’t going to sneak up on you Cole! The future is a second from now. A day, three days. It’s a fucking week or a month. It’s not going to come and assault you in an alleyway one day. You’re thinking too much. The physician, physical therapist, your coaches, they’re all working with you. They’re all making sure you get back on the ice. And they’ve been telling you that you’re recovering well. You’re doing great! Why don’t you see that?” I was impatient as I waited for an answer. Waited for Cole to look at me, or show some sign of understanding.

“I don’t know.” His voice quivered again. His chest heaved with a deep and quiet cry. He desperately needed that week off. He needed that week with his family. With his mother and his dog. Olive was the best at cheering Cole up.

I slid across the couch, draping one of my arms over his back as Cole cried quietly.

“It’s okay to be worried,” I whispered, resting my other hand on his thigh. “But you can’t let it consume you. You have to talk to people.” I didn’t know how we got there, but I knew it was because of his own stubborn behaviors. If he simply would have spoken to me before, we could have worked this out. And even despite knowing that, I couldn’t be mad. I couldn’t blame Cole for whatever reason he chose not to communicate, because I knew he didn’t do it to spite me or hurt me for not understanding. “You can’t let yourself get here, Cole. This constant state of panic won’t help anything.” I pressed a kiss to his head. “Things are going to turn out okay, but you need to allow yourself to see that. Please… let me help you see that.” I felt his body lean into my own, and I wrapped my arms around him once again. “There’s nothing to worry about.” I whispered, “take it one day at a time.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #cole caufield blurb #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield #ella’s inbox #ella’s updates #ella’s asks

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kywaslost · 2 years

Text

Sleeping With The Ninja

A/N: I guess it’s about time I finally get something posted… I’ve been in this depressive slump for a while, especially because of the way my friends have been treating me, and for some strange reason Ninjago has been my source of comfort, so here’s this. And I made them platonic, idrk why.

Kai: Person A falling asleep in Person B’s shoulder/chest/lap and Person B really needs to get up to go do something but doesn’t want to wake Person A.

Today’s tasks have taken a toll on you. It was a chore day on the Bounty, but around lunch a call came in requesting help from the ninja. You went with Cole to take care of what you thought would be a simple mission, but it ended up taking 5 hours and leaving the both of you bruised and battered. It was a bank robbery, but on a much larger scale than you thought. There were so many ‘villains’ to catch while also protecting civilians. It was a tough task for only two ninja.

You didn’t get back to the Bounty until after dinner and you were exhausted. You barely had enough energy to shower, and it took you twice as long to complete the task and change into something more comfortable. You still had a few chores to do, but Wu dismissed them for you to complete in the morning. You didn’t have enough energy to do anything other than sleep, but it was only almost 7 at night and too early to go to bed.

Stepping into the gaming room to find a way to kill time, you spot your best friend Kai sitting on the floor, sorting through the various video games and stacking them neatly. You quickly walked over to him, sat down beside him, and laid your head down on his lap.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” he greeted with a smile. “How was it?”

You only shook your head, burying your face into Kai’s knee.

“Not well?”

“I’m exhausted,” you muttered, closing your eyes. “ ‘Ma lay here a minute.

Your words blurred together slightly. Kai didn’t say anything as he finished up sorting and stacking the video games.

It didn’t take long for him to finish, and Kai needed to finish a few other chores before he was allowed to turn in for the night. You were still laying on his lap, so Kai said softly, “I’ve got to get up, Y/N. You should go to bed anyway.” Except he didn’t receive a response. Leaning over to look at your face, Kai asked, “Y/N?” Your eyes were closed as Kai noticed you were sound while resting on his lap.

Kai smiled softly, pulling out his phone. He was totally going to tease you for this later. Taking a picture of your sleeping form, Kai set his phone to the side and looked around the room. He had to finish his chores so Wu wouldn’t get on to him, but he didn’t want to move you. You looked so peaceful and you looked really worn down when you first entered the room. Kai didn’t want to disturb you.

There was a basket of laundry not too far away that needed folding. Kai was pretty sure that was Jay’s chore, but surely he’d swap chores around so as not to disturb you. So Kai pulled the basket closer and began folding laundry, careful not to disturb you. He’d carry you to bed later, or wake you up, but for the moment he was going to let you rest.

Cole: Person A falling asleep during the car ride home and Person B carrying them into the house.

The whole team was sent on a long single-day mission, leaving early in the morning and returning late into the night. You were all piled into one of the many vehicles that could carry you and soft music was playing in the background. Lloyd was driving as Kai sat shotgun, talking quietly to keep both Lloyd and himself awake. Nya was passed out on Jay’s shoulder, and Jay leaned over on Zane. The nindroid stared out the window quietly, joining in on Lloyd and Kai’s discussion every now and then.

You sat beside Cole in the back of the vehicle in a peaceful silence. You were curled up with your feet up on the seat between the two of you, drifting in and out of sleep as you watched a movie with Cole on his phone. As time passed, your feet slid off of the seat and your eyes began to droop. Your head now rested against Cole’s shoulder. Sometime later, your eyes closed for good as you slept soundly against your friend.

By the time you’d reached the monastery, you were passed out still, except you had moved to lean against your window.

“We’re here,” Lloyd called softly to those who were still awake or somewhat aware of their surroundings. Nya had just woken up, and Jay was in the process of waking up. As people started getting out of the car, Cole noticed that you were still knocked out beside him.

He contemplated waking you up, but you were hit pretty hard during the mission and he wanted you to rest as much as you could. So, in response, Cole slowly slid one arm under your knees and one behind your back. He pulled you close to his chest and slid out of the vehicle, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Aw, look at Cole being a gentleman,” Jay laughed slightly.

The earth ninja glared at Jay. “I don’t want to wake them.”

Following the others into the monastery, Cole carried you up the stairs and to your bedroom. He pulled back your blanket, gently laid you down, and tucked you in. You began to move in your sleep, and Cole froze. He was afraid he had woken you up, but watched as you rolled onto your side and buried your face into your blanket.

Cole smiled softly, then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He pushed the hair out of your face before leaving you be for the rest of the night.

Jay: Person A and Person B sleeping in the same bed and Person A keeps waking up cold because person B has pulled all the blankets off of them.

Having a movie night with Jay leads to you falling asleep in the same bed as him, his laptop sitting in between the two of you. You lay closest to the wall, back to Jay as you bury yourself in Jay’s blanket. You hadn’t been asleep for long, but you fell asleep before Jay. You’d say your sleep was quite peaceful, or it was until you were exposed to the chilly air abruptly. Opening your eyes, you realized that you no longer had a blanket.

Rolling over, you saw Jay with the blanket you were previously sharing. He was still asleep and didn’t seem to be aware of his actions. You grunted slightly as you pulled the blanket back towards you, enough to cover yourself as you rolled back over and closed your eyes.

It didn’t take long for you to be awoken again by Jay yanking the blankets off of you. It happened several times within the next 15 minutes, and you finally had had enough. Crawling out of Jay’s bed, you stomped over to his closet, pulled out his spare blanket, and made yourself comfortable back on your side of his bed. You closed his computer, tucked it away at the foot of the bed, and layed back down and finally fell asleep for the rest of the night.

When you were awoken by Jay in the morning, he had asked why you had a different blanket. “Where did you even find that?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

You glared at him playfully from where you still lay. “In the closet. You kept taking the blanket we were sharing. I finally had enough so I took your spare.” You lightly kicked him off of the bed. “I’m not sharing a blanket with you anymore.” Your words only made Jay smile with a small laugh, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

Zane: Person A can’t sleep so Person B sings them a lullaby.

You weren’t sure what time it was. You remembered leaving your room around 1:45 a.m. but you had been out on the deck of the bounty for a while. You had tried for hours to fall asleep, but you finally called it quits and headed outside to get some fresh air. You hated how you were feeling at the moment. Your body was so exhausted you couldn’t stand, so you resorted to leaning against the railing on the edge of the ship. Yet you couldn’t seem to rest in the slightest.

You were scared out of your mind when a cool hand was placed on your shoulder. Shooting upright and wiping your head around, your fearful gaze met Zane’s blue eyes. The nindroid was kneeling behind you, looking at you worriedly. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

You blinked slowly, then turned your head to look over the edge of the railing. Shrugging, you muttered, “Can’t sleep.”

Zane’s brows furrowed. “You don’t look well. Maybe you should come inside.”

You shook your head. “I like it out here.”

With a sigh, Zane moved to sit beside you, pulling you to lean onto his shoulder. “Then I will stay here with you.”

You hummed contently, nuzzling your cheek into his shoulder. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. You still couldn’t seem to fall asleep, but you were much more relaxed. “Hey Zane?”

“Yes?”

You hesitated for a moment. “Do- do you think you could do something for me?”

Zane’s voice was gentle as he responded with, “Of course.”

“Could you hum something?” You hoped you weren’t asking too much from your friend, but his voice was so soothing. There would be times when Zane would be driving the team home from a mission, and he’d hum quietly to himself when he thought everyone else was asleep. And if you were sneaky you could catch him humming to himself while making dinner. There was just something about his voice that calmed you.

“I suppose I could.” Zane wrapped an arm around you so you could get more comfortable before he began to hum quietly. You could hear his voice vibrating lowly through his chest, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the peacefulness of it all. For the first time that night, you felt like you could finally close your eyes and get some rest.

After a few minutes, Zane looked down to check on you. You hadn’t said anything in a while, and your breathing had changed. The nindroid smiled softly when he saw you asleep on his shoulder. He thought you looked exhausted when he first found you, enough to make you sick. He was just glad you were finally resting. Zane wanted to carry you back to your room, but he was afraid of waking you, and it was a nice night. He did adjust you, however, so you were more comfortable. Starting to hum again, Zane watched over you for the rest of the night.

Lloyd: Person A can tell that Person B is having a nightmare because they’re making weird noises/motions in their sleep so Person A wakes them up and asks if they’re ok.

Lloyd wasn’t known to be one of the deeper sleepers on the team. In fact, he was probably one of the lightest sleepers out there. It didn’t help that some of his roommates were loud sleepers. Jay talked in his sleep, and Cole snored excessively loud. It drove Lloyd insane on nights when he was exhausted but would be awoken several times due to his brothers, but he touched through it most of the time.

You never really made noise while you slept, and that’s what allowed Lloyd to get a full night’s rest. The two of you were best friends, and the two of you often spent nights together in one of your rooms. Especially during the day, when Lloyd wants to take a nap, he’d settle down in your room for a few hours while you either napped with him, or worked on something quietly.

Afternoon training had finally ended and everyone was either in the process of showering and settling down or getting ready for dinner. It didn’t take long for you to shower, change, and curl up under your blanket while you waited for dinner, and it didn’t take much longer for Lloyd to come knocking on your door.

“Hey Y/N,” the ninja greeted with a gentle smile as he leaned against your doorframe. “Mind if I come in?”

You looked up from your phone and scooted over on your bed, patting the spot next to you. “Not at all!”

Lloyd flopped down beside you with a groan. “Man, am I beat. HIs blonde hair fanned over your pillow, and Lloyd tilted his head up to look at you, still smiling. “Whatcha watching?” He scooted further up the bed, moving to rest his head right above your shoulder to look at your phone. His hair tickled your face slightly, and you could smell his shampoo from the shower he must have just taken.

“Just social media, nothing much,” you answered, turning your phone off and setting it beside you. You adjusted yourself to rest on Lloyd’s shoulder, burying your face on the side of his clothed chest. In response, the green ninja wrapped an arm around you. “I could go for a nap right about now.”

Lloyd’s fell to rest on top of your own. With a contented sigh, he said, “Me too.” The two of you fell into a soft silence as Lloyd pulled your blanket over himself and began to doze off.

It didn’t take long for Lloyd to be woken up by you. He woke up quicker than usual, because you almost never made noise in your sleep, especially soft whimpers and whines. Opening his eyes, Lloyd immediately scans the room for any threats. There seemed to be nothing harmful that he could see. The two of you were the only ones in your room, and you were still asleep beside him. That’s when Lloyd noticed how distressed you were. Your back was to the ninja, but he could still see how quickly you were breathing. Your shoulders shook, and you kept moving slightly.

Lloyd was no stranger to nightmares, and he knew how much it could mean to someone to be awoken and comforted by a close friend. So Lloyd gently wraps his arms around you and turns you around to place your head on his chest again. He keeps one hand around your waist and moves his other to run through your hair. “You’re alright,” he said softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Wake up Y/N, you’re alright. I’ve got you.” It took a lot of gentle caresses and soft words for Lloyd to wake you up, but eventually your eyes opened and you were pulled away from your nightmare.

You weren’t sure where you were at first, but it didn’t take long for you to recognize your best friend beside you, covered by your favorite blanket and watching you with watery eyes. “Are you alright?” Lloyd asked as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “You had a nightmare.”

You took a deep breath, releasing it shakily. You shrugged your shoulders, slowly curling in on yourself against Lloyd. “I think so?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t remember it.” Part of you was grateful you couldn’t remember the dream, but you felt terrible for waking your friend. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I know that’s why you sleep in here, cause I never --”

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” the green ninja cut you off, hugging you tighter against him. “I’d wake up a thousand times every night if that meant you’d rest peacefully.” He smiled at the thought. “I really don't mind. And, besides, I think dinner is almost ready. We’d be waking up soon anyway.” He was silent for a moment. “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You smiled softly, and added, “Thank you Lloyd.”

“Anytime.”

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perfectlyoongi · 1 month

Text

BOUQUET

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... when people needed to buy words to be able to speak, the entire world was plunged into a grey silence that only drained all existing joy. but, in so much grey, jungkook discovered a small green bouquet.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... jungkook x gn!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... long-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... dystopian!au, fluff. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 3.3k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... it's ♡ my bday ♡ here's the 2nd post of today !! hope u enjoy it ♡

The world was dark.

With so many factories working, it was impossible for anyone to remember the last time they saw a bright sun or a blue sky. With so many factories working, it was impossible for anyone to know the meaning of such words.

For several years, all a person could see was the thick clouds pouring out of the various factories, all the color in the world being stolen by the overwhelming smog that covered the city. That covered the country. That covered the world.

The world was dark.

Ruled by poverty the entire world lost its charm from the day a single person started ruling it. All the rights a person could have were stolen. All the happiness and joy were sucked away by the hard work that was already destined for people for a long time.

The colors were stolen. Colors were stolen from people’s eyes. No vibrant color brought any trace of joy to anyone. No dearer word brought comfort to anyone.

A veil of torment occupied the entire city. The entire country. The entire world.

Nobody knows how it started. They just know it happened.

Without realizing it, everyone was forced to buy to survive. Between water and food, all resources were reduced, giving only the minimum to each family.

In fact, everyone began to need to buy to survive.

What no one expected was that they also had to buy words to speak.

Nobody knows how it started. One misty autumn morning, everyone lost the ability to speak. No sound could be made by them and panic quickly set in in the city. In the country. In the world.

The newspapers were quick to announce the event: Population outraged by the Governor’s audacity!, Word prices are absurd!, A ‘hello’ shouldn’t cost two coins!.

The world fell into an extreme void.

People’s silence led to the great depression that was felt in this new world. The only sound that could be heard was the continuous work of the various word factories.

The world fell into an extreme despair.

Work slowed down due to lack of communication. Only the people who worked in the factory and a few others had the right to continue working, to continue having enough money to support a family.

Newspapers were quick to find out what happened: Factory workers get paid in words!, Population divided between two coins water and three bills ‘please’!.

Indeed, this new world was grey, cold, devoid of any life or joy. The constant silence was overwhelming, carrying with it the pain of many and taking with it any and all hope for change.

But you didn’t need a change.

Each region had a factory. Each factory had an owner. And the owner of the factory in your region was your father.

You could be considered one of the few people who had a vast knowledge of words – words that you could utter.

You were seen as the most beautiful person in your area. Your words were always imbued with innocence and joy, bewitching the many people who heard you, who saw you, who admired you.

And although your words were always sprinkled with magic and bathed in the sweetest tenderness that existed, everyone envied you. How could they know what charms your words contained if they didn’t know their meanings? Why couldn’t they have the same rights as you?

People said you were too happy. When they saw you on the street, with a smile on your face and charm on your lips, people only saw the happiness you showed. But no one knew about that nervousness, that anxiety you felt whenever you sat next to that boy in class.

Jeon Jungkook.

For as long as you could remember, the two of you had been classmates, but there had never been an exchange of words between you. Jeon Jungkook didn’t have working parents. Your parents were the richest in the region. Social classes should not, and could not, mix. That was the rule. That was the law.

But even though you had never been with Jungkook, not really, you couldn’t get rid of that curiosity of yours that whispered in your ear whenever classes started: what would Jungkook’s voice sound like?

From a very early age you were fascinated with Jungkook. It was his relaxed nature, his confident stance, his intelligence, yes; but, above any fascination or interest, you simply admired Jungkook.

What would it be like to live without talking?

Jungkook made you question. Always with bright eyes, but a sadness clinging to your smile, whenever you looked at Jungkook you could only question everything you knew and the entire world you lived in.

You had read the newspapers: Families save for the three bills and ten coins for a “Happy Birthday” for their children!, There is no hope – words’ prices keep rising!, Every “Yes” and “No” is running low in the stores – when will we have freedom of expression?!.

Yes. Jungkook made you question what it would be like to live in a world where you had to count to be able to express what you felt, what you thought. For you, all words were natural and, although you tried to hide the entire encyclopedia of words offered by your father in the back of your mouth, you knew that everyone looked at you, that everyone envied you.

But Jungkook didn’t look at you.

Jungkook didn’t envy you.

Jungkook might not have words, but he had kindness.

In a world plunged in darkness, where all colors are different shades of the same grey, Jungkook carried in his hands a bit of kindness that had long been forgotten. In a world plunged into darkness, where all words were stolen without any warning, Jungkook didn’t need to speak to show all his pure and extraordinary soul.

But no matter how much you admired Jungkook, no matter how much you wanted to explore the nervousness in your tummy that surfaced whenever you were around Jungkook, nothing would happen.

And you’ve already tried.

It was a small “thank you” from you that made Jungkook shiver as he held you the library door. You had used that word without any thought. You just blurted out something that was completely normal for you.

It was that moment that made Jungkook realize you had nothing to lose. It was at that moment that Jungkook knew that you could own the world if you wanted. All simply because you don’t have a word limit – you could talk forever. It was that moment that made Jungkook accept the fact that you and him could never form any bond.

Yes. Jungkook always found you fascinating.

It was your pure and genuine smile, your loud laughs that echoed through the school corridors as if they carried with them the hope of a new world, a better world. It was your simplicity, capturing all the attention even when you didn’t want it, even when you didn’t speak. You were, quite simply, the ray of sunshine in that grey world. You were the only comforting light in that desperate world.

But Jungkook knew that all the fascination he felt for you would have to remain hidden in the darkest corners of the silent world – all because he couldn’t give voice to his feelings.

Jungkook let out a long, drawn-out sigh that became silent from the moment it escaped his lips, dragging itself silently through the dark streets of the city.

It was difficult to live without talking, yes. But, when eighteen years pass wrapped in a silent bubble, a person only knew that silence, because that silence was all a person had.

And Jungkook still hoped to speak. Jungkook still dreamed of finding an eternal sea of words ready to be used. He didn’t want to know about status or wealth – Jungkook just wanted to talk.

In eighteen years of life and pure existence, Jeon Jungkook only remembered having spoken a mere thirty times: the words “Happy Birthday” were always expensive, even when spoken to his parents; the words “Thank you” were used too much, even though it cost almost three bills; the word “Yes” was repeated over and over and over again, as it was the cheapest, and the most widespread word throughout the world.

Since he was little, Jungkook was taught that the only time he could say those expensive words and spend all the money was on the most special dates of the people who really mattered to Jungkook. Jungkook’s parents insisted on this idea, knowing perfectly well that they could never offer their son a dictionary of words – they just wanted Jungkook to know how to save his money and words.

And that was why Jungkook seemed so melancholic that day.

School was about to end. All preparations for receiving the diploma had been working on for two weeks. There was only one more week of school. And all this time seemed so short to Jungkook, who could only think about the after: would he still see you? Would Jungkook be able to write you a little letter confessing all his fascination for you? How could Jungkook continue to think about hope when you, the bearer of the meaning of such a word, would leave?

No. Jungkook didn’t want to write you a letter. Jungkook wanted to use his voice. But, without money, there were no words and Jungkook remained mute in that grey world.

After a long day of looking for work, Jungkook was heading home.

Dragging his feet along the dirty, brown paths of the street, Jungkook carefully observed the thick, contaminated clouds of the factories – all the silence seemed insignificant at that moment. When he let his mind wander to possible scenarios if he only had a little money, all the silence became meaningless – for what value could silence have when it is forced upon the world?

In the midst of that grey, the wind slowly began to emerge. As if fearing to meet Jungkook, the end of the day breeze gently pushed the young man along unknown paths, making him find new silences in the middle of new streets.

Although the day was spent between stores and cafes, interviews and rejections, the reality is that Jungkook was not at all focused on assuming his soon-to-be adult state.

The truth, and if Jungkook wanted to get rid of that weight that was dragging him down, he had to admit that all that was on his mind was you.

It was your birthday.

Finally, today you have reached that age that abruptly pulls you out of innocence and forces you to face the world without any strength or dexterity. Finally, today you reached that age that gave you the feeling of freedom while suddenly robbing you of all your honesty. Finally, today you were an adult.

And, on such a special date, words had to be used.

Yes, words. In that world, all the letters Jungkook could have written, all the gifts Jungkook could have made by hand, all the little flowers Jungkook could have picked, all of that was worthless – when Jungkook lived in a world that was powered by words, only words had value.

Jungkook wanted to give you something, a small souvenir, a small thing that showed that, even though you didn’t realize it, you were the reason for making Jungkook’s entire academic path an experience worth living.

But everything seemed little. Everything seemed useless. Everything seemed lost.

Jungkook felt desperate.

How could Jungkook show you, tell you, that he wanted to keep seeing you? That, who knows, wanted to start a friendship? A friendship that could blossom into something bigger, something more beautiful, something colorful in that grey world. How was Jungkook supposed to tell you that he wanted you in his life? Without words, how could you ask someone to stay?

When he realized it, the wind had pushed Jungkook into a long, deep puddle that prevented him from continuing his walk. So Jungkook just stood there, pondering, carefully observing that brown, polluted water.

Lost in his thoughts, Jungkook didn’t seem to see that puddle.

Was there ever beauty there? Would there be color in the world in another life? Would there be words in another world? Was there any hope for him now?

A sigh. A shrug. A withdrawal.

What a pathetic idea of Jungkook to want to talk to you. How could he tell you anything if he didn’t even have money for a “Yes”? That idea was ridiculous. That thought was nothing more than a simple dream, an illusion that Jungkook had created to comfort his heart.

A sigh. A shrug. A color.

Jungkook crouched at the edge of the puddle when something caught his eye. Pulling his sleeve up, Jungkook brought his fingers to that dirty water and, after feeling once, twice, three times, he held it.

There. In that moment. In that place. Jungkook was holding it.

Carefully, fearing breaking what was already fragile, Jungkook took the small bouquet out of the water and looked at it.

One, two. Back there was three. There was a small four and a five wanting to escape. Seven, eight, nine. There was the ten intertwined with the eleven. Eleven. Eleven colors. Eleven greens. Eleven possibilities.

A holding of breath. A wide smile. A new hope.

Jungkook quickly took off his coat and wrapped that small bouquet in the comfort of its fabric. The water quickly consumed Jungkook’s coat, but he didn’t care – there it was safe, there it would dry.

Bouquet in hand and hope in his heart, Jungkook stood up and tried to position himself for a moment. Where was he? What street was that? Was that Café Longo there? Yes. So… There! To the left.

In a mix of excitement and nervousness, Jungkook began to carefully run through the streets, making sure the bouquet was always safe in his arms.

Then suddenly, like someone blinking, Jungkook started to believe.

As he walked down street after street, as he left neighborhoods and houses behind, Jungkook only looked ahead. His hands were shaking as he held the bouquet, his fingers were starting to get cold from the water, but his eyes, oh! his eyes! Bright stars had descended from the skies after years of refuge, only to make home in Jungkook’s beautiful eyes.

It was with magic that Jungkook looked at the world at that moment. As if the stars had sprinkled him with the ancient pleasures of a colorful and beautiful life, Jungkook stopped seeing grey. At that moment, bouquet in his arms and hope in his steps, Jungkook saw colors, Jungkook felt colors.

When he arrived at your house, Jungkook was tired, but, still moved by all the happiness, Jungkook just felt excited.

He took a deep breath once. He straightened his back. He cleared his throat. He rang the bell.

One second. It’s going to be okay.

Two seconds. What if you’re not at home?

Three seconds. The bouquet is ridiculous.

Four seconds. What did Jungkook have to lose?

Five seconds. The door opened.

You welcomed Jungkook with a smile on your lips. Using constellation lipstick, your smile was beautiful, making Jungkook question what meaning the word “fascinating” could have that couldn’t leave his head.

Looking at Jungkook, you could only smile. Seeing Jungkook there, at the door of your house, on that special day of yours, was as if your heart had learned to breathe for the first time in years. And for the first time in years, you decided to swallow all your words – you just wanted silence to preserve that memory.

You gently tilted your head as if asking Jungkook the reason for his visit and, as if waking up from a trance, Jungkook straightened his back again and looked at his arms.

This was his last chance. This was his last hope.

Gently unwrapping his coat, Jungkook began to very slowly reveal a small green bouquet.

You craned your neck a little curiously, wanting to unravel that mystery as quickly as possible. And it was when Jungkook extended his arms that you realized.

A bouquet of words.

Jungkook was offering you the most valuable asset in that world. To you. You who have an eternal source of words within you. You were being offered words. Jungkook was giving you words. A bouquet of words.

With shaking hands, you accepted Jungkook’s gift.

With a smile on your face, you tilted your body a little to thank him.

With a full heart, you read the bouquet.

Eleven words. Eleven words that you had already said a long time ago. Eleven words that were repeated by you on several occasions. But those were eleven words offered by Jungkook.

You gently shook your head and handed the bouquet back to him.

The entire world fell at Jungkook’s feet.

So suddenly, like someone losing a smile, Jungkook stopped believing.

When he saw the bouquet being handed back to him, when he felt your rejection up close, Jungkook just looked down. His hands shook as he held the bouquet back, his fingers getting lost between the vowels and his eyes, oh… his eyes… The sharp thorns of the stars stung with all the revolt of years of hiding, creating small tears in Jungkook’s sad eyes.

Accepting your rejection, Jungkook was ready to leave.

And it was right before he turned his body that you moved.

Your hand was quick to hold Jungkook’s chin, helping him lift his face, forcing him to look at you. Still smiling – always smiling – you brought your hand to your mouth, gesturing a small “eat” while pointing to the bouquet with your other hand.

Jungkook was surprised.

It wasn’t a rejection. It wasn’t the end of that hope. It was eleven words offered by Jungkook – it only made sense for Jungkook to say them.

A little shy and afraid, Jungkook slowly began to eat his words. Nerves began to race through his body, creating so many unlikely scenarios. What if he choked while eating? While speaking? What if his voice broke? What if, by pure chance, a leprechaun appeared and stole the words from his mouth? Could Jungkook bring that bouquet to life?

The eleventh word slipped gently down Jungkook’s throat, leaving its impression inside him, giving him the power to speak it.

He had finally eaten the eleven words – oh, how sweet they were.

You continued to wait patiently with a smile on your lips – oh, how beautiful you were.

Jungkook took a deep breath to speak – oh, how he could dream.

“Flowers grow in you. Is what the world is made of.”

Finally Jungkook’s voice.

In the midst of so much grey, a light. In the midst of so much silence, a melody. In the middle of that world, Jungkook. How beautiful he was. How beautiful his voice was.

Blessed by the constellations, Jungkook’s voice was capable of speaking in celestial timbres, all the magic that existed in the cosmos being carefully deposited in each word spoken by Jungkook. Soaked in divine magic, with an angelic touch to the vowels, Jungkook was capable of creating worlds with his voice.

You finally heard him. You finally heard Jungkook’s voice. You finally heard Jungkook.

And there was no need to say a single word.

When you approached Jungkook and gently placed your lips on his cheek, you didn’t need to say any words to show him that the flowers that grew within you only bloomed for him.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Shelter me From the Storm

Actress!Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Stripped Bare (Part 1) / Two people asked for this and I already had the ideas so boom. 😂

Warnings: Loss of Parent / Grief. Post-Partum Depression (Not mentioned, but heavily implied—hygiene/eating struggles, struggle to bond/help). Media (Implied lack of respect for Sex Work).

18+ | Minors DNI | Please Don’t Report, it’s labeled properly.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Natasha's raspy voice startled you, but it also soothed your aching soul. It'd been exactly two months since the two of you moved to Oregon to officially start your life together. "My mom, us, them."

The redhead nodded solemnly, worried eyes casted down onto your fidgeting hands. She settled down beside you on the porch swing, and took your freezing hands between hers. Gently as ever she kissed, and breathed onto them until she deemed them warm enough.

"You couldn't have worn mittens?" She teased, then her strong arms wrapped around your body so she could pull you into her lap. Her forehead leaned against yours as she tried her best to comfort you. It was you who broke the distance and pressed your lips to hers for a kiss that reminded you that you were really there.

——

You were still alive, even if your mom wasn't. The thought broke you, this idea that Apollo and Luna would grow up without her love.

"I miss her," you sniffled, and the redhead sighed empathetically, "Me too moya lyubov'."

A smile graced your face at the memories of Nat with your mom. They'd only known one another for a little over a year, but your wife stole your mother's heart instantly. The sick woman never missed a chance to talk to her, even if it involved interrupting your convos.

They had a pure love of you in common, so it was easy for them to spend hours talking. It warmed your heart, but also infuriated you to no end when your mom shared your secrets.

Natasha never needed to know about your failed prom, or about how you believed in Santa and his friends until sophomore year.

The redhead loved to tease you about it, even now, "Who else will tell me all your secrets?"

"Thank fuck that's over," you sadly joked, because embarrassing as it was, you'd let your mother release all of your most embarrassing moments in life if it meant she was still here.

"Ooh, What about Cole?"

You snorted, "Not if he wants to stay alive."

"You're no fun."

Silence soon fell over the both of you as you watched the rain harshly pelting down. The pavement, and dirt saturated in no time as mother nature wept, you weren't sure of her reason, but you liked to think it was for your mom. She loved the rain, it never presented as an inconvenience to her like it did for others, you remember chasing the rainbows with her.

Losing her was polarizing really. It was always coming, but you were never prepared for it.

All that really brought you comfort since she passed, was that she met your daughter first.

Luna Romanoff, the little girl with your wife's cheeky smile, and your mothers love for music.

At only ten months old she was a little rockstar. The xylophone was her go to instrument, it made you feel like your mom's name as her middle prophesied their clear connection. They had met, then five hours later your mom died.

Natasha took care of everything after, she still does some days when you can't manage. You usually feel bad, but every time she senses it, and reminds you that there's nothing else she'd rather be doing than caring for her family.

"I'm going to miss you too," you finally broke it, voice cracking as your emotions got the best of you. "I wish you didn't have to leave at all."

"Me neither," Nat replied in the same tone, a tear slipped down her face as she stewed over her departure this evening. Leaving you in such a vulnerable state wasn't easy, but she hadn't a choice as she had to do a slurry of interviews for her upcoming film, as well as clear the air on her sudden disappearance from Hollywood.

It was the only way the execs would let her off the hook for the premiere. The buzz from her interviews will give them enough scandalous PR. Especially when she announces this will be her last film for a long while. The seats will fill.

She'd pleaded for zoom interviews, but even being as big as she was, they wouldn't budge.

"I wouldn't go if I had a choice," she reminded you for the umpteenth time. "I know Natty."

"It just sucks," she voiced your thoughts.

You chuckled humorlessly, "Majorly."

The sudden sound of a cry through the baby monitor brought you and your wife out of your bubble of intermixed grievances, and right into the house where you found a shocked Apollo hovering over Luna's traveling bassinet.

Five minutes ago they were peacefully napping, one in a heap of blankets and toys, while the other was cozy in her bed. It was safest not to move your son, he'd have woken up lively.

Where he lays, he stays—a household motto.

The scene was clear as day, he'd climbed up onto the couch with a devious curiosity, and now it appears the young boy had slapped her.

Natasha swiftly moved to the side of the couch, stopping your son from repeating the offense with a gentle catch of his hand. With ease she scooped the boy onto her hip, then she lovingly reached down to smooth a hand over your daughters face. Her cries stopped instantly.

After your daughter was soothed you watched quietly as Natasha handled your son. Her look was stern, but her eyes were still adoringly soft. There was no true harm done, it was clear Luna was mostly just shocked, not genuinely hurt.

Plus, he's only two, this was like a canon event.

"Apo," she called his attention to her with the nickname derived from his inability to say his. "You have to be gentle," she softly reminded him, using her hand to mimic proper touch as she continued to brush her hand over your daughters face until she was sleeping again.

Apollo butchered the word as he repeated it, but he mimicked her perfectly. Tiny hands covered in god knows what reached out to cup her face, something he'd seen done before. Both of your hearts beamed at the boy for his slow, but steady understanding. This would probably happen again, from both ends, but you knew that it would be an easy resolution.

Natasha's gentle approach to the kids was a surprising discovery you'd made. Not that you expected her to be downright cruel, but you just expected more sternness from your former experiences. But then you remember the Natty that you'd loved was always there back then too, and then it all makes sense. The first time you witnessed it was when your infant son was playing with an extension cord. You wanted to run over and rip it from his hands, but she'd stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

Instead she walked over to him, created some static electricity with her hands then tapped his. It seemed almost cruel, but then she picked him up as he wailed, then that soon faded into hiccups and it all became clearer to you.

He'd wanted her attention all along, and she taught him a valuable lesson in the process.

The gentleness came right after, when she held him close while she hummed a Russian lullaby to soothe him. All the while pointing to the enticing cord and saying a simple, firm no-no.

You remember watching them fondly, with a smile on your face, a hand on your bump, and a subtle sense of relief that'd washed over you.

No matter what came, you knew you'd all be safe with Natasha. Parenting was a learning curve, without your mom to guide you you've lost it, but you felt like she'd had it mastered.

That's why after the night slowly crept in you anticipated the arrival of your little brother. He's flying in from New York, and should be to your house by 8:30pm, and Nat has to be gone by 9pm, or she knows she'll never make it.

Apollo had already gone down for the night, but Luna Bear was still a live wire. Bouncing on her mama's hip while haphazardly shaking her head side to side in a tiring game of 'no-no'

"Wow, you've gotten so big Lunar Eclipse," your brother greeted the giggling baby, who turned to him with a wide, curious smile. Natasha sent him one as well at the relief she felt since she no longer had to shake her head.

"Luna," you corrected with a fixed glare. "I've been meaning to ask you about that sis."

"Cole," you warned through gritted teeth, and for the first time Natasha had realized the help she planned might actually be the bother.

"Why would you name your kids like animals?"

Natasha glared at your brother just the same, coddling the baby into her chest with a hand over her ear to shield her from hearing him

"You're the most annoying person on Earth," you deadpanned, he gasped in offense. "Give me the cat, and say your sappy goodbyes."

Natasha's arms around your waist stopped you from chasing your cackling brother down as he took your giggling daughter into the house.

"Don't leave me with him," you pleaded. "I won't look good in an orange jumpsuit Nat."

Natasha snorted softly, "You're so dramatic." Then she leaned in to kiss you slowly, a bunch of unspoken words being exchanged: 'I'm only a call away,' 'Don't kill your brother, please,' and 'Seriously, call me if you need me,' but the most important of messages came tumbling from your very own parted lips, "I love you."

Natasha smiled against you, she instantly repeated the sentiment, "I love you too Y/N. With all of me. You'll be okay detka. Promise."

The driver honked impatiently, and you fought off the urge to flip them off. Natasha rolled her eyes as she saw the petty conflict behind yours. "I'll be back in three sleeps sweetheart, you take care of yourself while I'm gone please."

Natasha sighed as she saw you bite your lip, a nervous habit of yours she'd become familiar with. You never wanted to disappoint Natasha, but you felt like you always were when you couldn't even manage the mundane tasks.

"It's hard, I know it is," she sympathized with your newfound wave of inability. "But eat, drink water, and sleep whenever possible."

"I'll try," you whisper against her chest as she hugs you close for a final moment. "That's all I ask moya lyubov, you deserve to be nourished."

"Three days," you whispered, your eyes shut tight as you reeled in your emotions. You could break down when she made it onto the road.

"Then there'll be no more leaving, we got this."

"Safe travels Natty." You kissed her cheek, then made the move to slip from her grasp, knowing all too well that she wouldn't willingly let go.

As you entered the house she watched, making her driver more irritated but she didn't care. His paycheck was signed by her, therefore his patience was paid for. She watched closely and nearly broke down when she saw a little Luna crying as her hands slammed into the window.

It was strange, how the ten month old could understand the implications of her mother in the car, and it hurt the woman's aching soul.

Once you locked the door, and scooped your daughter up she told released a breath and told the driver he could take off as she sent off a worried text to Cole, begging him to keep an eye on you like he promised her he would.

Then she sat back and began to count down the milliseconds until she could return to you.

—

The following morning came with a wake up Facetime call, your wife waited until it was 9am your time, then spent hours virtually cuddling. Around 12pm she bid you farewell, as it was 3pm in New York, her interview was for 6pm, but with makeup and wardrobe it was time.

It was live, so at 3pm you'd ensured the babies were already down for a nap, and settled onto the couch in some clean pajamas with your emotional support water bottle, and chips.

Natasha looked beautiful as she crossed the stage, with practiced elegance she flashed her award winning smile, and you swooned. It felt like it was directed at you, and with it being your Natasha you realized it probably was.

They discussed the movie, it was a smooth interview, until the hot topic, you, came up.

"So, tell me Natasha, who's the mystery girl?"

Natasha instantly grimaced, but quickly shook the expression for one of happiness. "My wife."

"Wife, huh?" He chuckled nervously, you both saw a question on his mind designed to send you spiraling. "Fans across the globe really thought you'd end up with Wanda Maximoff."

Natasha breathed harshly through her nose, it took all of her patience to remain composed.

"Wanda is nothing more than a lifelong friend." Natasha cooly replied. "Who's happily engaged, need I remind you, to The Vision Stark."

"Hindsight is 20/20," he jested awkwardly.

"Mhm," Natasha hummed, not even humoring the man with a response as she watched him fumble through his note cards for more. She smiled, it was perceivably smug, and made you feel something you'd yet to in almost a year.

He took a steadying breath before his face relaxed, then he continued his futile attack.

"I have it on good authority that your wife, Y/N Y/L/N." Natasha cut him off, "Romanoff."

"Sorry," he replied annoyedly, "We've been informed that Y/N Romanoff was a stripper."

Natasha nods thoughtfully. "Is there a question there, or are we just stating useless facts. If so, I'd like to inform you your tie is on wrong."

Your eyes widened, in all your years of knowing of Natasha, you'd never seen her so snarky. It was really hot, and you truly couldn't deny it.

"I guess, if it wasn't obvious," he starts shakily, as if he feared the 5'3 redheaded woman. "The world is wondering if that's how you met."

"Well, the honest answer is yes." The audience gasped, she rolled her eyes behind her lids knowing they were likely prompted to do that for shock value alone. "I know right? How shocking that rich people still go to strip clubs."

Her eyes then narrowed onto the nervous host. "As if you yourself aren't a regular Johnny."

"Jimmy," he timidly corrected and she laughed. Boy did she laugh, it was mocking, and had the man sweating through his shirt. "My apologies, so tell me Jimbo, does your wife know what happens during the actual late nights? We both know this show is mislabeled. It ends by 7pm, but your life is only just beginning then right?"

The raven haired man gulped, it was clear Nat was prepared for his intrusive questioning. You caught sight of Natasha's sideways smirk just as the show cut to a commercial, and when it returned your wife was no longer there. Cole snickered from beside you, "Mom would have loved to see this, God, I adore your wife Y/N."

You hummed your agreement, then left him to tend to the crying babies while you answered your wife's phone call. She was panicking, but you reassured her that it'll be okay. That her die hard fans wouldn't leave, and that with the progressive nature of Hollywood that she'd likely receive accolades for her honesty, and her overall support of the sex work industry.

Even if you both knew it wasn't a guarantee, Natasha couldn't help but to believe you. In the end, if this is where her career ended she didn't mind. She had more than enough money to retire, and she still would have her business.

Natasha ended the call after you'd calmed her as she had more interviews to prepare for.

It felt fulfilling being there for her, helping her through a freak out for once instead of it being the other way around. You knew it wasn't a competition, but it's hard to think otherwise when it's always you on the visibly weaker end.

There was a renewed confidence in your step now, and it showed when you fixed lunch for the whole house instead of letting Cole. You'd ushered him off to play with the kids, and got comfy with the concepts of cooking again.

—

When the next day came you got to hear from Nat sporadically. She told you all about her day, the highlight apparently came when she got to answer fan's questions while playing with cats. You rolled your eyes, knowing now that she'd be insufferable until you finally said yes to her taking in the stray kittens that lived amongst Wanda's garden. The brunette wanted to take them to a shelter a week ago, but Nat told her she'd win you over soon enough.

She begged again before she got off the call, and she was right, because that evening you sent her a picture before she went to sleep of a relieved Wanda on your doorstep with a box.

Natasha called you on the verge of tears, she'd only hung up the phone an hour ago so she could take a shower and get ready for bed. It was only 4pm for you, and 7pm for her, but she had an early morning interview before she was then meant to catch an afternoon flight home.

So, after she thanked you profusely, she settled down in her bed, and you on the couch as you pulled up her most recent interview done with Clint Barton. An actor turned talk show host.

He was also her very best friend, so of course she gave him the tell all story others wanted.

"So Natasha," Clint started with a teasing smirk. "Mhm?" She hummed playfully, her eyes softly rolled as a smirk overtook her face.

"When do I get to meet my niece and nephew?"

"Whenever you catch a flight out to Oregon."

"That's right," he bounces off her seamlessly, "You made the bold move to the Beaver state, what is in Oregon that's not in LA or NYC?"

"Peace," she answered simply. "It's gorgeous, and it's where my love wanted to end up."

Clint smiled, it was incredibly genuine as he admired the lovesick one your wife wore. The man has yet to meet you, but he plans to hug you tightly in silent thanks for changing her life for the better and making her this happy. He's watched her through every phase, the partying, all the meaningless hooking up, to the present.

Where she is outwardly softer, but as expected she is still guarded where she needed to be.

"Your love," he acknowledges, a slight tease to his tone as he met her eyes again. "Why don't you tell me all about who's taking you from us."

Natasha glared at him, but it was a playful way, that she agreed to, to ease her into her purpose for this interview. "You know Clint, I've been acting ever since I was a kid," she thoughtfully began, "It's all I've ever known honestly. It's been my greatest passion for three decades."

She took in a steadying breath, then sighed while wearing a shy smile, "It wasn't until I met her that I envisioned more for myself," her cheeks reddened at the thought of exposing herself in such a vulnerable way to the world.

Acting, telling others stories, was what she did best, but it felt foreign to tell her own like this.

With her eyes closed she imagined your smile, then she heard the memory of your kids giggles and suddenly it was the easiest decision. "Y/N is my light at the end of the tunnel, truthfully."

Clint nodded proudly, leaning back in his seat to metaphorically open the floor up to her.

"I know the world is already freaking out, some angry that I'm off the market, others mad that she's a former stripper, but I don't know why any of that matters to them." Natasha frowned as she tried not to cry. "People are saying my career will end with this, and to those people I say good fucking riddance. I've given almost every last piece of me to this industry, and if me finally choosing my happiness is a problem then I'll let it be for only them. I'm happier than I've ever been, and that is my truth."

"So, you're leaving Hollywood behind?" He asked for clarity, and she shook her head in a partial negation. "I have decided to take a step back, this upcoming film is going to be my final for an indefinite amount of time. I want to focus on my family, and I deserve a break."

"That you do Natasha," Clint acknowledged, behind him on a screen a slideshow of all of her hit movies began to appear. Emphasizing the focus of conversation. "If you retired today I'd say that you've left your mark on the world, even more so with those beautiful babies."

"They are my entire world." Natasha clarified, they were her legacy, sure, but they were so much more than that too. They were a perfect mixture of you both. Apollo with her distinctive eyes, and your sweet smile. Then Luna with her smile, and dimples and your huffy temper.

Both with their own blooming personalities.

The redhead smiled brightly when a photo then flickered on the screen of your little family. The four of you were sat on a park bench, Apollo stood on her lap with his hand pointing to something behind her, she had smiled at the camera, but her eyes focus was torn between him and the phone. Then sat beside her was you, with a blanket over your chest, shielding the hungry baby from the harsh Fall winds.

It was meant to be a cute family photo, and it still was, but far more dysfunctional than intended. Natasha had tried to get Apollo to turn around, but he wouldn't take his eyes off of the firetruck in the back. Then Luna cried, and it was clearly hunger so you let her latch on, and even then it could've been cute, but then she grunted angrily so you covered her.

"You guys look happy," Clint acknowledged, and the woman smiled fondly. "We are."

"Well, I hope that in a few years time we'll be able to see you back on the screen," Clint moves to wrap up the segment. "But if we don't, then I'd like to dedicate a moment of silence to the greatest loss in the industry."

"Oh stop it," she joked tearily, leaning forward to playfully shove his shoulder. Clint winked at the emotional redhead, then he yanked her up and into a bear hug. "Tell Y/N I look forward to meeting her," he whispered, then he planted a kiss on her cheek, and she left the stage with a chorus of loud applause following her.

You turned the TV off, then wiped at the few tears that she'd elicited from you. Seeing her so vulnerable on TV, all in an attempt to make the media go easier on you, was overwhelming. It made your heart swell with more love than before and you couldn't quiet grasp how you could even love her more than you already did.

It also made you want her more than you did yesterday. No longer was it a feeling you could ignore, but instead a deep seeded need you'd had every intention of satiating upon your wife's return. Which is why you rebooked your brothers flight home, and reminded him about that one time you covered for him when he rear ended your evil neighbor Mildred's parked car.

—

The last thing Natasha expected to find as she entered your house late at night was you. But on the couch you sat, with a glass of red wine, and in a matter of seconds you were on her.

"Moya lyubov' I said drink water," she groaned, but it was a humored one. You looked up at her with wide eyes, then you smiled innocently. "Would you believe me if I said that Jesus showed up and magicked it himself?"

"Oh, is that so?" She cackled in a hushed way, you nodded vehemently. "Scouts honor Natty!"

"Mhm?" She teasingly hummed, the vibrato felt as she pressed her lips to yours, and you gasped affectedly. Natasha tried to pull back, feeling guilty for looking like she was trying to initiate anything, but then she felt guilty for feeling guilty because of course she wants you.

"No," you whimpered and clung to her biceps. "Daddy please, I-I'm ready." You were wet, desperation was controlling your mind now.

"You're drunk detka," she pointed out, but you showed her the bottle, proving that you'd only poured the one glass and hadn't had more than two sips. Which was only for liquid courage.

"What's changed for you?" Natasha pulled you down into her lap, you whined in frustration, but then you saw the glossy viridescent orbs full of concern waiting for your reply.

"Seeing you lose your cool on TV over me was hot," you admitted shamelessly, stroking her big ego in the hopes that it'd soon be her cock.

The redhead blushed, but quickly regained her cool as she leaned back into the cushion of the couch and firmly gripped your thighs apart.

"Can I see how hot it made you detka?" Her raspy voice made you dizzy, you nodded and moaned a soft please so she eagerly padded at the wetness seeping through your panties. "Oh look at you detka, you're just so needy, huh?"

She cursed in Russian when you answered with a buck of your hips. With a swift hand she laid you down and said, "You have to be quiet."

You shook your head. "I reminded Cole of a secret I kept, so he collected the kids and all they'd need and went to the guest suite."

"I knew I married a genius," she teased, her heart nearly exploded as you laughed. It'd been so rare to hear nowadays, so it was cherished.

"What do you want moya lyubov'?" Natasha looked deep in your eyes, wearing a smile that said only your pleasure was enough for her.

Instead of answering you pulled her down with a hand wrapped behind the nape of her neck. The kiss was soft, almost exploratory as it'd been so long since you'd had a spike in libido. But when Natasha still remained timid you took the initiative, your hand cupped her bulge, and you slid your tongue over her bottom lip.

She gasped and your tongue pushed beyond her lips, but hers expertly swirled around yours then darted down your throat. As you gagged she couldn't fight off the aching need so she pushed down into your hand and moaned.

The redhead pulled away, panting heavily as she tried to reel her neediness in. You drove her body wild, but she didn't want to get too lost in the lust if you weren't ready yet.

"You've been so patient with me," you purred, "Let me take care of you daddy, please?"

Natasha suddenly stilled, her sorrowful eyes set on yours. "Hey no, detka, you deserve endless patience without expectations."

"Yeah, I know," you breathed. "But we went from having sex every few days to not at all."

Natasha smiled tenderly, her hand cupped your cheek. "That's fine, I don't need sex to be happy with you Y/N. You alone are enough."

"Well, that sentiment is returned, but I'm absolutely serious, so let me give you head."

Natasha was shocked by your bold words, it was a quick recovery though as she snorted, "If I ever say no, please do have me committed."

Natasha smiled triumphantly as you giggled, it always made her heart warm to hear your joy.

The mood swiftly returned to one of lust when after she leaned back you slid out and onto the ground on your knees. The woman was tired, jet lagged to be more precise, but that didn't stop her from helping you take her sweats off.

Natasha was undeniably aroused, her cock stood tall as soon as you slid her boxers off.

"You gonna stare all night detka?" Natasha teased, then her eyes softened. "If you're not ready, just say the word lyubov', it'll be okay."

You shook your head free of worry, and smiled at her for being so sweet. It was comically endearing. Here she sat with an erection that had to be hurting her at this point and she only cared about your comfort. Which actually only made you even more excited to suck her off.

Natasha groaned, the sound raspier than ever before as you traced your tongue over the veins of her cock. Her hands gripped the cushions of the couch as your lips wrapped around her tip, and she nearly came on the spot as your hands steadily pumped up from the base of her cock as your other hand lazily played with her balls.

Her breathing became increasingly labored as you bobbed your head up and down her length, you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs as you'd gone commando beneath her sleep shirt. Hearing just how much she was enjoying this had immeasurably turned you on.

Natasha's hips involuntarily jerked. "Oh fuck." You giggled around her shaft, the vibrations making her do it again, and this time you'd choked. Universal instant karma you suppose.

Natasha stilled, fearful eyes looking down into yours. "I'm okay," you immediately said after gasping for air upon releasing her cock, you didn't move far though, you instead hovered her tip with a goofy smile for hopeful clarity.

"Are you close?" You asked, but with how her shaft continued to twitch beneath your fingertips you'd figured you had your answer. Natasha nodded, it was uncharacteristically shy and you found yourself wanting more soft sensual moments just like this one with her.

"Good." You mused. "Now how about you take over and cum down my throat as a reward."

The way you winked made the pit within her begin to unravel, Natasha's tip instantly coated in pebbles of white as you took over half of her length into your mouth, and proceeded to let her fuck your throat until it was raw. Your nails dug into the skin of her thighs that you were gripping for stability as she thrusted wildly, and glorious tears ran down your warm cheeks.

When she released down your throat the pleasure was blinding, her eyes slammed shut and she moaned for a prolonged moment as the hot spurts didn't stop. Strands of her cum slid down your chin along with your drool as she continuously thrusted until that wave of pleasure she was riding came to an end.

While you both caught your breath you began to get handsy, impatiently pulling at the hem of her shirt until she removed it with a huff of amusement. You then kissed up her body until her cock was trapped against her abdomen by your slippery cunt, and your lips met hers.

Natasha's hands fell to your hips instinctually, and she guided you as you slowly ground into her, letting her tongue explore your mouth. When you whimpered with need she pulled back and you were met with dark, lusty eyes.

"I know you want me inside detka," she teased as she ran a thumb over your swollen lip that was still somewhat coated in her essence. "But daddy's missed your pussy in more ways than one, and I can't help but to need to taste you."

"Please," you whispered affectedly, and she pulled you back in for a deep, heartfelt kiss. "Thank you detka, lay down for daddy now."

Natasha removed your shirt seamlessly as you laid down, the fabric had barely left your skin before you felt her hands all over your body. One second they were gripping you by the hips to keep you from bucking into her face, then they no longer cared as they sought out your breasts. Natasha's tongue flicked over your bundle of nerves just as her thumbs pinched your nubs, and your body writhed as you came.

The orgasm you experienced was intense as the aftershocks continued rolling through you, and in retrospect it was also embarrassingly quick. But it'd been so long and Natasha was just that good, she never struggled to get you to let go.

Every muscle in your body relaxed for all of two seconds, but then the redhead continued to lavish away at your cunt. Cleaning up your arousal, but then delving even deeper to pull another, somehow more intense orgasm from the depths of your soul. Stars bloomed behind the lids of your eyes as you screamed her title.

Over and over again too. Natasha was like a woman starved as she refused to leave her place between your thighs. When you tried to shimmy away she growled, it was terrifying, but in the best way as you involuntarily gushed.

You knew that if you really needed her to stop you could say your safe word, but as much as you felt overstimulated you felt just as good.

"Fuck I missed this," Natasha moaned as she continued to lick at your glistening, puffy cunt. "If I could, I'd never leave this sacred spot."

You were cognitively incapable of a verbalized response besides the occasional, pitiful whine.

Natasha admired your fucked out face briefly before turning your whimpers into loud moans as she wrapped her lips around your clit, and sucked harshly as she suddenly filled you with three of her skilled fingers, that now curled delicately into your g-spot with every thrust.

Tears streamed down your temples, matting your hair to your face, and seeping into the cushions of your couch. You came with a yelp this time, cum absolutely drenching the couch and leaving Natasha in awe. You however were hardly able to breathe, or see as the tears made your sight bleary. This was when your hands flew into her hair, tangling up in the locks as you used all your remaining strength to pull her up to your lips in a redirecting manner.

Natasha kissed you sloppily, her fingers now coming to a stop as she understood your silent pleas. Slowly, after distracting you with a swirl of her tongue around yours, she pulled out. You whined lowly at the loss, but your body appreciatively deflated into the cushions, and while you worked to calm down she began to kiss all over your skin in a calm, soothing way.

"We should go get you cleaned up lyubov'," she murmured against the skin of your neck that she'd been nibbling, your breathing had finally returned to an evened rhythm. "No, please."

Natasha pulled back to look you over, she was shocked to see your eyes desperate for more.

"Are you sure detka?" You frantically nodded, "Yes, fuck, I want you to fill me so bad daddy."

Natasha pressed her lips to yours, and slid her throbbing member into your slick cunt without a hitch. Neither of you were going to last long, and truthfully neither of you needed to. There was already stars where the ceiling once was as your lover pounded into your sloshing cunt.

"Gonna fill you to the brim detka," she moaned against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait to see your beautiful belly grow with my baby again."

Her breaths were hot as they fanned across your twice as hot skin. Every grunt she released brought with it a reactive clench of your walls, and it drove the woman atop of you insane.

Natasha came with a silent scream, her load unleashing havoc on your abused walls, you were a moaning mess as she slammed into your g-spot repeatedly as she chased this glorious high, milking it for all it's worth and herself as well in the process. When she came to a stop, and pulled out of you she gasped.

The amount of cum that oozed out of you was jarring at first inspection. Natasha had never released this much in her life, she's almost certain it's impossible for that much to exist inside a person at once but she just rationalized it as a delayed release for the year without sex.

There was no way you wouldn't get pregnant.

Especially not after Natasha thrusted back inside of you, mumbling something about preserving the chance that made you chuckle.

"Are you prepared for a third baby?" You teased your wife, with a hand mindlessly running through her hair as she laid with her face pressed against your chest. "I once told you detka, I'd make you my breeding bitch."

You cackled, chest shaking beneath her head to the point that she had to lift up and narrow her eyes at you. "I'm not sure why that's funny, but yes, I'm prepared for whatever life brings. With you by my side I'd willingly raise a dozen kids."

Natasha smirked when your humor died away, eyes wide with fear until she finally took over laughing for you. "God, you looked so scared."

You scoffed, "I was. That's a lot of c-sections." Natasha pursed her lips in thought, then she shrugged her shoulders. "Not if we have twins."

"We'll leave the twins to Maximoff," you soon decided over a yawn. "I think two more is fine."

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips. "Two more sounds perfect. A simple family of six."

"There's nothing simple about you Natasha."

"Yet you love me anyways." You could hear the insecurity in her tease, and it hurt your heart to think someone ever made her feel unlovable. "That I do." You gently guided her lips to yours, kissing her slowly before you guided her face back to the crook of your neck. "Very much."

Neither of you spoke another word, you just laid there soaking in the warmth of your love before slipping off into a restful nights sleep.

The first in a long time actually, and the last genuine one before Raven and Leo arrived.

——

6,389 Words

Nat's former job: Acting / Y/N's: Stripping

Nat's current job: Breeder / Y/N's: To be Bred

❤️ Kaitlyn. 🤭

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg

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saltwaterlakeshavefish · 4 months

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How the death of Zane effected the ninjas in season 4 ep 1 of Ninjago represents the 5 stages of grief

Idk if anyone has talked about this,it’s not super in depth 😔but you can see how the ninja conversation with Lloyd start the next stage of grief

Please excuse the grammar

Stage 1, denial, pretending a lost didn’t happen :Jay carried on with his life,even starting a game show trying to distract himself by putting on this façade that he is just fine while smiling and laughing but when he was alone he starts to talk to a picture of Zane acting like he’s still there.Then Lloyd comes in to talk and Jay lashes out about the thought of Cole

Stage 2,anger,a masking effect to hide other emotions: Kai resorted fighting in the slither pit to try to feel something fueled by his anger,even putting a mask on and went by the “red shogun” getting mad when he got called the “fire shogun”.He lashes out at Lloyd and the others a few times in the episode as well

Stage 3, bargaining,wanting to feel like you could have changed the outcome come : when kai was talking to Lloyd, he said “and where’s the master of ice,He’s gone,but I’m still here,who cares about honor it should have been me,I’ve should have been the one-“ and Lloyd finally had enough and says “when are you going to think about someone other than yourself” and Kai just reflects on what he have done for a split second before walking out and going to Zane’s memorial to think.

Stage 4,depression,often running from emotions and isolation:Cole chose to go work out in the woods, away from the city as a lumberjack where no one knows him,isolating him self in the trees the farthest away from ground,he confessed to Lloyd that he is tired of everything that has happened and he cracked by the pressured of being a ninja ,but is snapped out of it when people need saving from logs falling

Stage 5, acceptance,when you’ve come to terms that this is your life : Lloyd accepted that Zane was gone He was trying to get the ninjas back together,getting back on track with saving the city ,looking at the big picture,and is trying to get the ninjas to see that Zane is gone, yes he already accepted it, but he was still sad about it which is normal on the stage of grief

#lego #ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago jay #ninjago lloyd #5 stages of grief #kai smith #kai ninjago #cole brookstone #jay walker #jay ninjago #Zane death #zane julien #zane ninjago #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #the tournament of elements

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magentagalaxies · 2 years

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#honestly kinda hilarious about how my thought process just now was like #''dysphoria dysphoria dysphori--WAIT IM GONNA GET TO TALK TO PAUL BELLINI AGAIN IN 6 DAYS''#like yes my gender might be a mess right now. but fuck that im low key friends with one of the creators of buddy cole #and thats cool enough to tell the gender-depression-goblins to shut the fuck up

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thedeathlysallows · 6 months

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Is It Over Now? (9)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: And did you think I didn't see you?

Warnings: Canon typical Targaryen incest. Simp!Aemond. Brief mentions of violence. Aemma is getting pretty depressed and desperate tbh

Tag list: @callsignwidow (I’m so sorry I forgot originally. I promise it wasn’t intentional)

"What do you mean I'm not allowed to see my own grandmother?" You glare up at Criston Cole, the smug bastard. The joy of denying you and confining you to your room, as if you're some petulant child that wouldn't eat their vegetables rather than a princess and heir to the throne that you are, is all over his face.

"Princess Rhaenys is confined to her room as well. Neither of you are permitted to see your dragons either. Your lord husband has commanded you to prepare for the coronation." Cole bows stiffly before turning sharply on his heel and marching off, sword clanging at his side.

Your hand falls to your stomach as a wave of nausea washes over your body.

So, this is it.

You're well and truly a prisoner as your uncle seizes the Iron Throne.

You want to scream and rage and slit Aegon's miserable throat all at the same time. Most of all you want your mother. It should be her coronation you're commanded to prepare for... and it wouldn't need to be a command either. You'd do it happily. Dutifully.

But you won't do it now. Not for Aegon. Never for Aegon. You're finished allowing him to use you as it pleases him. He'll never lay a hand on you again, and neither will Aemond. How could you be expected to debase yourself in such a way? To give the brother of your mother's usurper children? No, you won't. If Aemond expects it he can take a mistress for all you care.

With your mind made up on the matter, your eyes flit over to the dress some maid or other had laid out on your bed before your kicked all of them out in your rage upon returning to the Keep. The material is long and flowy, meant to drape over your body in a way you'd find attractive if your weren't so upset. The color is the same deep green of House Hightower that you always see Alicent in.

You hate it with such an intense passion that you subconsciously find yourself reaching for the small dagger on Aemond's desk.

"Don't," comes the cool voice of your husband. His fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulls your back to his chest. His other hand splays across your stomach, warming your skin beneath his touch. "The dress is too pretty to ruin."

"I have no need of it as I won't be attending this joke of a coronation. Aegon can choke on his wine."

You feel Aemond's lips twitch against your hair. "I'm sure His Majesty won't be happy to hear his favorite niece say such a thing."

"But his brother is?"

"Or perhaps his brother is simply relieved to find a chasm growing between his wife and the King."

"The chasm is big enough to swallow you as well, Aemond. Do you think I'll ever forgive any of you for this? Do you think I'll happily fall in your bed after this?"

Aemond's hold on your tightens. "Our bed. We are married after all."

"Yes, but for how much longer?"

"What does that mean?" His voice is icy. Dangerous even.

Aegon’s promise before he dragged you back to the Keep with him bounces around in your head. No one can stop me from taking you for my own.

"Nothing," you find yourself reassuring Aemond. "It's only... you're all starting a war. I don't understand how none of you see it. What will the first casualty be? Me? You?"

He turns you around to face him, his hand moving from your stomach to your cheek. "You're safe here."

"Am I? I'm confined to our room, unable to see my grandmother or Vermithor-"

"How old were you when you claimed Vermithor?"

You blink in confusion, uncertain of Aemond's sudden question. "Young. Too young perhaps."

"You were five." His violet eye seems to stare into your very soul as he speaks, laying your very essence bare before him. "It was impossibly brave of you. And idiotic."

"What's your point."

"You wanted Vermithor and you claimed him by any means necessary. That is why my grandfather deems you important enough to imprison. You truly are the blood of the dragon and he's terrified."

Your brow furrows as you take in Aemond's words. "I think you place too much importance on me."

"I could never. You're everything to me. I've waited for you for years and I won't let anyone take you from me now. You're safe with me, my love, this I promise." His gaze flicks down to your lips as he draws you closer, craning his head down.

Your earlier promises of never letting him touch you again fly from your mind as you melt into the softness of his hands. He holds you like he's unworthy of you, like you're something so unbelievably precious to him. He kisses you in the same way. Aemond's lips are gentle and loving as they move against yours. He rushes nothing and savors everything.

"Let me keep you safe," Aemond whispers against your mouth.

The desire pooling between your thighs almost drives you to distraction, but you muster enough focus to nod before wrapping your arms around his neck and stealing another kiss. Aemond reciprocates in kind, his cock throbbing in his trousers as you whimper and grind yourself against him.

Aegon had once told him pretty words could get him anywhere with a woman, but everything Aemond said to you he meant. They were more than pretty words. Every single bit of it was true. He loves you and he'll make you love him in turn no matter what.

"We need to get dressed," Aemond finally manages to say between kisses.

Your hand trails down between your bodies, resting on his hard cock. "And if I would rather get undressed, husband?"

Aemond has to resist the urge to bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless until that pretty little mouth of yours can only say his name. He wants it so badly he can practically feel your cunt around him, but you don't deserve to be fucked like some common whore. No, you deserve to be worshipped. Ravished.

"We don't have time." He hates the way your face falls when he says it, but it's true. There's no time for everything he wants to do to you. "Afterwards, I promise."

"You're making a lot of promises today." Your attempt at humor falls a bit flat as neither of you are in the mood for it. "Aemond, please, don't make me watch."

His thumb traces your cheekbone softly. "You're attendance is required; however, I'll see what I can do about reuniting you with Vermithor if you'll come."

You aren't stupid enough to believe you'd be left alone with your dragon, but it's a step in the right direction. Maybe... maybe this is how you should play their little game. Let them think you've been tamed and domesticated until you can earn enough of their trust that you can get back to your mother.

A plan starts to form in your head.

"Alright," you say to Aemond. "I'll attend."

Aemond kisses you briefly. "I'll wait for you just outside the door."

You nod, watching him leave before heading to your closet and selecting a different dress. This one is a deep red that clings to your body and ends in a long train. It's slightly difficult to get it on by yourself, but you somehow manage, meeting Aemond in the hallway. He observes you with a raised brow though says nothing about your choice of attire. Getting you to agree to come was tricky enough. He isn't about to demand you change clothes.

"Come," he says as he offers you his arm.

The two of you walk in silence to the dragon pit where you join the royal procession, standing on the dais in front of the smallfolk. Many whisper and point at you until Aegon enters and begins walking towards the Septon. Swords clang as he walks beneath, coughs and sniffles coming from the crowd. In the distance you think you can hear Vermithor's mournful cry echoing the hollow feeling in your heart. Aemond, for his part, seems to sense this as well and holds your hand in his.

Aegon's crowning passes in a blur. You hear little of it and completely ignore when he looks in your direction for some sort of sign you accept him. Unlike Alicent and Helaena, you don't curtsy. You don't even nod as Aemond does. You stare straight ahead into the crowd, a few faces staring straight back with pity.

As the crowd cheers Aegon's name you feel as though you'll pass out. That should be your mother wearing the conqueror's crown. All of this is so, so wrong-

Screams cut off your thoughts as debris scatters across the room. The dust settles and you see your grandmother astride Meleys. She meets your eyes and smiles sadly, mouthing the words be strong. You take several steps forward before Aemond wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back.

"Let me go," you cry out. "Let me go!"

Aemond shakes his head. "No. You let her go."

You wail and kick, fighting against him with everything you have, but it's no use. Aemond is much stronger than you and keeps you in place easily until Rhaenys flies off.

Without you.

You collapse against Aemond's chest and sob until he has to carry you out.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

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lalal-99 · 7 months

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of timeless love {h.j.} | track 1

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 2.6k

Synopsis: You and your annoyingly adorable boyfriend Jisung move off to university, to make new friends, find a calling and learn how to live on your own for the very first time in your lives.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I first thought of this story about a year and a half ago. I didn't feel ready at the time, but as I got better over the years, I picked this story up again. Updates might be slow, so bear with me please

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

You, 6 years ago, wouldn’t have bought this romantic af, straight out of a fairy-tale storyline.

You going to University? With the love of your life? Like the picture-perfect couple, smiles glued to your face? Nuh-uh. Not you. Not in this lifetime and most likely not in the next dozen—if you ever were so unlucky.

Family, love, college. All of it was bullshit. Temporary.

Nothing good ever lasted. If anything, a dark twist was already lurking around the next corner at any given moment. You couldn’t imagine a dimension in which you were ever happy. Let alone content.

Your 14-year-old emo self would never grow out of the jet-black hair. Or the countless piercings decorating your face. Or those cole-coloured ripped skinny jeans you wore like a second skin. So much you knew. Past-you only ever wanted to gloom through life in a hazy blur. Depressed about My Chemical Romance breaking up and all the other hardships life had already put you through.

That girl would have despised who you had become. Hair grown back to its natural colour. Wearing shirts without some underground metal band’s logo printed on the front. That girl would have likely made fun of you for even thinking about grades. And your future? If you ever had one, your 14-year-old self knew it would include nothing but darkness and despair.

Every teenager around you went through that phase, though you were sure it was more than that. A phase. A short and survivable part of your story. You fully and whole-heartedly believed nothing would ever change about your attitude towards life. It couldn’t, not after everything that had happened.

Overcoming that horrible chapter of your life seemed unimaginable. That you even got the chance to reach out and grab your future by its horns only had one reason. One person who was to become the most meaningful part of your life. Of the same future, he was the reason you even considered having.

Han Jisung.

A boy of innocence and noisy introversion. A boy who, despite having lived through similar trauma as yourself, had a will for life toxic enough to capture you. A boy who you became sure was the closest thing to a soulmate you would ever find.

No one could have prepared you for how hard you’d fall for Jisung. You loved him at his best, worst, and everything between. And you had fallen in love with him despite his lousy sense of humour and silly persona. Or maybe, you had fallen for him because of it. Because he had a similar story to yours but an opposite look at it.

Your 14-year-old, always-depressed, doom-certain-self could have never imagined being with someone like him. Let alone being head-over.heels. All while doing what? Watching him do something so mediocre and none-life changing as buying toothbrushes?

“I don’t know. Which ones do you think?”

Jisung presented you two indistinguishable packs of toothbrushes, waking you from your daydream. Thus, the blurriness faded and your eyes focused on the tiny words on each cover.

“These,” you decided on the left option. “Those bristles are too hard for your gums.”

“Oh, we definitely can’t have that.” With a dramatically disgusted expression, he returned the wrong set to its place on the shelf. “I want to keep at least some of my teeth.”

“Thankfully,” you agreed with a snicker. His words cracked you up more than they should have.

No doubt, your 14-year-old self would have hated yourself six years later.

“Okay. What else is on that magic list of yours?”

“Microwave popcorn and some instant ramen. And we should get some notebooks and highlighters for tomorrow. That’s it.” You listed the remaining articles off the slip of paper while crossing out the products you had retrieved from the hygiene section. “Should we split up?”

“Nah. That’s how they die in horror movies. And I’m not going out in the food court of a 7/11.”

“Fair. How about the Back-to-School aisle then?”

Jisung pondered his reply as he wandered past toothpaste and mouthwash. “Too many pens for people to draw penises on my face. The cleaning section, however? That’s a whole other conversation.”

“How come?”

“Well, there’s bleach and mops already. Also, buckets. So they can simply wheel my corpse away.”

As you walked by the pasta and other canned foods, you picked up a tray of ramen each. For convenience, if anything. Had it not been for the thinness of your wallet, you would have gone for fresher produce. So much for independent living.

With an intensive focus on your absurd conversation—Jisung listing places he would most likely die in if he were a character in a horror movie—you didn’t notice a tray of stacked goods blocking the path. It wasn’t until you bumped your shin on the square-edged tower that you finally took notice.

As a wave of pain swallowed your leg, you left out a shriek. “Gosh freakin’ dang it!”

“You good, baby?” His concern was genuine, though he couldn’t help smiling at your desperate attempt not to swear. “Let me see.”

Jisung kneeled in front of you, noticing a reddening wound once he had dragged the jean fabric up your leg.

“Just a bruise.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one feeling like your skin is being dragged off your flesh.”

“No. But I can make it better.”

He rose to his feet, arms hugging your frame as he picked you up without any effort. You giggled as he heaved you into the cart, careful not to squish the food.

“What are you doing?”

“No girlfriend of mine should have to walk when she’s in pain,” Jisung explained, helping you get settled. Pushing the crushable goods out of the way, you sat on the cans. Not the most comfortable seating, but it worked, nevertheless.

“Damn, those other girls are lu-cky.”

Jisung was pleased at how casually you had joined in on his joke. A smile formed on his lips as he pushed you along the shelves of seasonal produce.

You soon reached the Back-to-School aisle. There you took your sweet time deciding on notebook formats and highlighter colours. It kept surprising you how much fun it was to go grocery shopping when done with the right people. Everything was about 50 percent less boring because of Jisung. Jisung and his ability to find something ridiculous in anything and everything.

After you had made some other critical decisions—like which folders would make organising the year easiest, the ones with dogs or flowers in front—you finished up your school-supply-run.

When you reached the cash register, you noticed the strange looks the other customers gave you. Two young adults strolling through a supermarket, pushing each other in grocery carts? Definitely side-eye-worthy.

Maybe you would have cared more had you not been so enticed by Jisung’s mindless humming of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.

“What?” Jisung questioned your glances as he started unloading the items from the cart.

“Nothing.” You joined him, unloading all the trays of food you had picked minutes earlier. “This feels weird. Going grocery shopping together. Feels grown-up somehow.”

“We go grocery shopping once a week,” he declared with a thoughtful pout.

“But that’s different.”

After you had emptied out your purchase, he wheeled you further down the band. The woman behind the cash register seemed equally interested in you as all the customers. Soon enough, she continued doing her job.

“You mean because we didn’t have to pay for it ourselves?” He held his hand to his heart as if heartbroken. “I miss your dad, too. Always so kind, paying for all our stuff.”

You chuckled at his playful sincerity.

“No, idiot.” As Jisung reloaded the cart, you payed for this week’s necessities. “Because we’re grocery shopping on our own, living off at uni. We have officially moved out of our home, living in the big city. It’s— new. That’s it.”

As soon as you had reached the exit, you picked reached for the strawberries, unable to abstain any longer. Strolling towards his car, you handed one over to your boyfriend while sucking on your own. Like the gentleman he was, Jisung helped you jump from the car and you packed everything into the trunk.

Once you had placed the cart back by the others, you finally headed home. Or rather, the dorm room you would be living in for the next four years.

You weren’t at that point of calling it your home yet.

A comfortable silence surrounded you throughout your drive. It remained while you stacked away your half of the food back at your place and lasted until you finished. This sort of silence wasn’t uncommon these many years into your relationship—you hardly noticed it anymore.

“Man, all this talk about horror movies makes me want to watch one.” That you hadn’t mentioned this topic for over 30 minutes seemed irrelevant.

“But you’re horrible with horror movies,” you pointed out.

“Not when you’re there to protect me.”

An hour later you were sprawled out on your bed, the last sweet strawberry long gone.

With your legs entangled, Jisung’s face rested on your chest as you massaged his scalp. After minutes of fruitless discussion, Spiderman was now webbing his way through your laptop screen. In the end, it really didn’t matter what movie was playing. It never did as long as you were with each other.

Not even 20 minutes into the movie, Jisung had fallen asleep on top of you. His faint snoring was now mere background noise as you followed the plot, ehich wasn’t as simple as it sounded. Your energy was more than drained from running around all day.

Only three days ago, you had still been back home. Packing for your upcoming move to a new city, two hours from every place you had grown up in. The one thing keeping you calm throughout the stress was your sweetheart-boyfriend. To no one’s surprise. He was the only person able to keep you sane when all you wanted was to scream and cry. Had you not had him by your side, you would have drowned in all the noise your brain usually produced.

His ability to calm your nerves when you needed him to—know when to make you laugh or when to distract you from your everyday stresses—surprised you to this day. You couldn’t begin to explain how you had been lucky enough to find someone like him. Someone you loved as much as you had seen your parents do when you were younger. Let alone how he loved you the same way, almost self-destructively so.

Your 14-year-old self would have called bs. But that girl was someone else—you, but in another lifetime. You but pre-Jisung.

When the door to your room rushed open, it pulled you from your quiet slumber. You had turned off the lights earlier to set the mood but still knew the intruder was your roommate. Besides you two, only Jisung knew the code to your dorm—a decision you had previously discussed with your new roomie, of course. Seeing as he was knocked out on top of you, you could cross him off your list of possible visitors at 8 pm on a Monday.

Adapting her eyes to the darkness, she checked her surroundings before tiptoeing into the room. The light remained off as she expected you to be asleep.

“Hey,” you greeted the dark-haired beauty, making her jump in surprise at the sudden noise.

“Fu—God! You scared me.” With one hand over her heart, your roomie calmed herself from your unexpected jump-scare. Once her heart rate had settled, she slipped out of her heels and left them by the end of her bed. “Is he asleep?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, letting your finger run along his jaw to check. He didn’t move, so you knew he was most likely out for the night. “Long night?”

She gagged with an eye roll, pulling her jeans off her legs and exchanging them for grey sweatpants. “Don’t get me started. I haven’t even started writing my thesis, and it’s already kicking my ass.”

You watched her as she also changed out of her dress shirt and into an off-the-shoulder crop top. She slipped into a pair of sneakers while making her way to her dresser where she sprayed herself in a cloud of perfume.

“You’re leaving again?”

“Yup. I spent so much time at the library today, I apparently neglected,” she air-quoted with an eye roll, “my girlfriend. At least that’s what she said.”

“The things we do to keep our loved ones happy.”

“Exactly.” Unleashing her long curls from a tight ponytail, she ran her fingers through them for a few seconds. Her beach-waves veiled her face, so she pushed them behind her ears to instead frame her near-perfect features. “Anyway, I’m staying at hers tonight, so don’t wait up for me.”

“Okay,” you agreed with a yawn, your roommate replying with a deep chuckle.

The past few days, you had mainly spent in your new room, settling in and getting ready for the start of the semester. You liked planning ahead, knowing your life was organised to a T, so you could focus on the important stuff. Your studies, and your boyfriend.

Your roommate seemed to have most of the same priorities. She had gone out every night since you moved in, be it to study at the library or spend some time with her better half. However she managed to squeeze in all the partying? You had no clue. You could only hope some of her togetherness rubbed off on you. But then again, never judge a book.

“I’m going to take you out one of these days. You are not going to be sitting inside all year. Not on my watch.”

Spending the first two days inside, you must have looked like the biggest couch potato ever.

“Sounds good.”

As she waltzed towards the door, you grabbed her attention one last time. The hallway lights blinded you with their brightness, framing her curves in a halo.

“Oh, and Hwasa?” She turned to face you, looking like she had jumped straight off a Vogue cover. How she did that without trying was a mystery to you. “Can you not tell Wheein he’s sleeping over? I wouldn’t want my first warning on the third day already.”

“Babe, as long as you’re my roommate, my dorm-supervisor-girlfriend won’t dare write you up. Just don’t set anything on fire, and you’re solid.”

With that, she waved goodbye, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. Well, apart from the ever-so-handsome Tom Holland, who somehow made full-body suits look like a reasonable choice of clothing.

Not soon after, your eyes fell close, sending you off into a deep rest.

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