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writemywaytoyourheart · 4 years

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Onsra- Chapter 38: The Velveteen Rabbit

banner created by: @envity ♥️

pairing: vampire!jungkook x female reader

genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst, horror

warnings for this chapter: blood, a lot of sad shit I'm sorry.

word count: 4.4k I know she’s short. sorry

Onsra: ML, Previous

WARNING: SPOILERS ARE IN THIS CHAPTER, PLS DON'T READ IT IF YOU HAVEN'T STARTED FROM THE BEGINNING.

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“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse. “When you are real, you don’t mind being hurt.”

“You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or need to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and are very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

“Y-Y/n? Y/n?” Jungkook stutters in disbelief and lets his body slide to the ground, holding your smaller one in his arms. “No, no, no. Please no.” He pulls you closer and swipes away the hair that has fallen in your face. “W-What did you do? Why did you- Y/n, look at me. Look at me, love.”

Your body starts to shake, the air having turned cold in the last few moments and the adrenaline pumping through you leaves you convulsing. You try to heed his request and keep focused on him, but you can’t concentrate.

You see the horror on Jungkook’s face as he keeps touching your cheeks and whispering to you, “Hey, stay with me, yeah? Please stay with me. It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay. Just breathe, alright?” You can sense the panic in his voice, so you nod softly and smile at him. It doesn’t hurt, it feels like nothing, but your arm is heavy like it’s weighed down by bricks. You manage to pull it up enough to caress his warm cheek.

…warm?

Jungkook looks up and sees Seungwook standing there in shock, horror seeping its way onto his face, the gun in his hand that’s hanging limply from his side. If looks could kill, Seungwook would be dead in an instant. The absolute rage inside Jungkook is barely containable; the only thing stopping him from leaping up and shredding the other man to pieces is your small voice bringing him back to you.

“I- I’m okay, Jungkook. Please don’t cry, it hurts me when you cry.” His tears won’t stop though; streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto your heaving chest. He nods, an idea flitting through his mind as he cradles you more in his arms, putting one arm under your bent legs and one behind your back; Jungkook goes to stand up. He shifts you in his arms and turns; picking up his pace as he dodges around everyone and out of the old barn.

You can hear the cries and loud crashes of the war fade behind you two, your body a flopping dead weight in Jungkook’s arms. Tears stream down Jungkook’s face as he runs, trying to be as gentle with you as he can.

He just needs to get you there.

He knows he can.

Then suddenly, his legs give out underneath him and he crashes to the ground; making sure to take the brunt of the fall on his elbows instead of it being on you. He shakes his head to clear it and tries to stand up again, only for his knees to buckle and collapse. His body is weak, and it feels like he’s been beaten almost to death.

What’s going on?

He doesn’t care though, you’re all that matters. Jungkook doesn’t know what’s happening to him but he pushes it out of his mind, standing up before wobbling unsteadily.

A sharp pain flares up and down your spine and you yelp. Jungkook freezes at your cry and sits down again, still keeping you close, “I’m sorry, but I need to save you. I can make it to Jin-hyung, I know I can. Please just hold on.” You feel your eyes well up at his words knowing all too well that he can’t make it to Seokjin, and even if he did, it wouldn’t matter.

The bullet hit your spine, you can’t feel your legs anymore and everything else is slowly going numb as well. A sob escapes Jungkook’s throat when he sees how pale your face is, your eyes half closed and struggling to stay open. You’re losing blood fast.

Jungkook springs into action and gently lies you on the grass, turning you as softly as he can and trying not to let a horrified gasp escape at the sight of so much blood on your floppy white shirt.

You had decided to wear your old white shirt that you wore when he first found you, declaring that morning that it was too hot to wear black. His chest had ached at the sight when he saw you earlier, remembering when he first found you.

To think someone could hurt something so delicate, and precious. To think someone could hurt you.

Jungkook swallows his tears and lifts up your shirt slowly, but then he lets it back down quickly. He can’t do anything about the small bullet that’s now lodged into your back. So, he tears at his shirt and presses the bundle against your wound, being as gentle as he can while trying to make the blood stop flowing. Then Jungkook unbuckles his belt and slides it off his waist; wrapping it around you and securing the shirt against your back. He turns you back to face him and smiles softly at you to keep you calm.

“Jungkook?” You blink in confusion, Jungkook’s mind is reeling as he tries to think of what to do to save your life, but he answers your question shakily, “Hm?” You tilt your head and touch his cheek, looking deep into his gaze, “Y-your eyes… t-they’re brown…so beautiful.”

And they were.

The deep red color that covered his irises are now a brownish black; the most comforting and gorgeous you’ve ever seen. You’re glad they’re going to be the last thing you see. A tear slips from his doe eyes and rolls down his cheek, “Y-y/n, please don’t leave me.” Your heart clenches and you feel his grip tighten around your waist, “Jungkookie…I’m sorry I made you cry, but I’m not sorry I did it. I love you, and I couldn’t let him hurt you. I think maybe-”

He clenches his jaw, the way he often does when he’s refusing to back down. “Stop it. I’m going to save you, y/n.” Tears slip down your cheeks when Jungkook starts to scream into the nothingness, “Help! Somebody help us! Please! Anyone, please!” You shake your head, there’s no one for miles in this deserted field. The closest is the battlefield and no one there will hear him, nor come to your aid for that matter. You start to speak but he cuts you off, “Kookie-“

“Someone’s hurt! Please help us! HELP US!” His voice is already scratchy and it breaks when he screams at the top of his lungs. “Jungkook, please stop…it’s okay.” He frantically runs a hand through his hair, trying not to lose his mind. “It’s not okay! I can’t lose you. I can’t.” You feel your own tears pouring down the sides of your face, you didn’t wish for this to happen either.

“Jungkook, I’m asking you to listen to me.” You whisper it weakly, your body convulsing again from the cold air surrounding you. He looks at you in despair, yanking his overcoat off and covering you with it like a make-shift blanket, “Just stay awake, y/n. Just stay with me, you’ll be okay.”

“Kookie, you aren’t a monster, and you never were.”

“Y/n-“

“Shush, I’m trying to tell you something…please listen.” A tearful nod from your boy and you continue slowly, trying to contain each painful breath.

“I’m so proud of you, Jungkook. Darkness had your heart, but there was always light. None of it was your decision for you to be turned. You defeated that though, all by yourself.” You cough and gasp when a sharp pain flares down your back. Jungkook cradles you closer and takes deep breathes to calm himself. Then you notice his teeth.

Just bunny teeth. No fangs.

You smile weakly at him and whisper.

“You won, Jungkookie.”

You can feel the life draining out of you, and that’s when it hits.

You’re never going to see your family again, hear Ga-In laugh at your stupid mistakes or see her become the model she always was, or see Yuri’s silly antics to make Jimin laugh. You’ll never see your little goldfish eat his tiny pebbles again. Seokjin’s jokes, Yoongi’s smile, Hoseok’s laugh, Namjoon’s comforting hug, Jimin’s goofy dances, Sooyoung’s blushing cheeks, Honey’s sweet kisses, Taehyung’s fascinating stories.

Jeon Jungkook.

The boy you ran into on the way to math class all those months ago.

The boy who ties his stupid combat boots on the second to last lace holes.

The boy with the bunny smile and sparkling eyes.

The boy who went through hell and back, but still found it in himself to love you.

The boy you fell in love with.

Not a monster.

Just a boy that conquered the darkness planted in his heart.

Your boy.

The one you’d do absolutely anything for, no matter what.

The boy that saved you.

You would never see any of them, ever again.

The fear hits you like a tidal wave and you start to hyperventilate, because this is it.

This is where your story ends.

~ ~ ~

As you start to panic, Jungkook can see it in the way you start whimpering and moving around. He gathers you into his arms and holds you tight, “Shh, shh. It’s okay, little flower. I’ve got you, it’s alright.” You hear his calming voice and try to pretend like he’s just putting you to sleep, “Jungkook?” He swallows his tears and nods, “Yes, love?” You breathe in again. It’s getting harder. It’s so cold.

Don’t be afraid little flower, I’ve got you.

“Can you sing to me? Don’t leave me.” His face scrunches in pain but he swallows again and lets out a choked ‘of course’. Jungkook can tell you’re scared, and he’ll be damned if he lets you die like this. He stands up, determined to save your life, apologizing quietly when you whimper at the pain in your back. He starts to slowly walk with you in his arms, singing the song he wrote for you and never got to show you while tears stream down his face.

“Did you find your dream erased like me?”

But, he can make it.

You can make it.

“It’s not like destiny, your hurt gaze looking at the same place as me.”

After a few steps he collapses again, anger burning in his chest at how weak he is right now. His skin has become blotchy and sweaty, his eyes have dark bags under them, bruises and cuts litter his face, and he gasps for every breath.

“Won’t you please stay in your dreams.”

But, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Jungkook feels a raindrop fall on his shoulder and then sees one drip onto your forehead when he looks down to check on you. He wipes it away gently and continues his song while his mind turns with every possible way to save you.

“Going to that place that becomes clearer. Take my hands now.”

That line stirs something inside him and he gets to his feet.

Another minute and his knees buckle once again, sending him to the ground. Jungkook heaves in as much air as he can, it feels like his lungs are closing. He swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to his knees, “Ok y/n. I need you to be strong for me, okay? I promise I won’t stop singing. It’s going to hurt, but whatever happens, do not let go of me, understand?”

You nod and he lies you down, then he turns and gently takes your hands to bring your arms around his neck, pulling your legs around his waist and holding you securely. You always loved it when he gave you piggyback rides, you just never thought one would turn out like this.

“Hold on tight, baby.” He stands carefully and ignores the dizziness from just getting upright.

Just one step.

Now another.

Again.

He continues like this with you flopping around on his back, him holding you still, so as not to hurt you as best he can while you two trudge along slowly. There’s no way he’s going to let you go now.

“Take my hands now, you are the cause of my euphoria.”

His voice is fading as his strength withers. He’s not sure how much longer he can go. The rain is pouring down now, and both of you are soaked. He can feel you shivering even when you have his coat wrapped around you. Jungkook is shaking and again his knees collapse underneath him, jolting you both when he hits the ground hard.

“No!” Jungkook screams and pulls himself back up, “Not this time! I won’t let you go, I promise.” His words are barely registering in the haze of your mind as you shake uncontrollably from the cold, pain, and sheer determination to live. Now on his hands and knees, Jungkook starts to crawl while you still cling like a koala on his back. The pain coursing through you is indescribable, but you don’t have the strength left to cry or scream or do anything but hold on and wish to stop shaking.

The grass is muddy and wet, but that doesn’t click in Jungkook’s brain. All he’s focusing on is one hand then another, one knee and another. He can’t see three feet in front of himself with the rain and mist clouding his line of sight.

Your eyelids start to close slowly, the idea of sleep inviting you tauntingly. The slight rocking of Jungkook as he crawls is starting to lull you into a fog. After a few seconds, you struggle to open your eyes again; reminding yourself of what’s going on.

Don’t fall asleep.

“One time, when I first met Namjoon hyung; I saw him after he just got out of the shower.”

What?

Jungkook’s breathing is labored and you can tell that it’s hard for him to speak. So, why is he telling you this?

“I saw his thighs because he was wearing boxers and let me tell you-” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “-they were very impressive thighs.” You smile weakly and hug him tighter when you realize he’s talking to you about random things to keep you from falling asleep. Because if you do, you aren’t going to wake up again. That thought gives you the strength to shake your head a little and blink your eyes.

You don’t want to leave him.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Once we were playing Twister in the dorms.” You nod and hum, acknowledging him and letting him know you’re still awake. The pain has faded to a dull thud, because you honestly can’t feel anything but your arms at this point, and your arms are getting tingly now.

“Yoongi hyung was definitely cheating and Hobi hyung was yelling at him while they were in the-“ he takes a shuttering breath and halts his crawling for a minute, “-in the most funny twisted up positions.” You try to laugh but all that comes out is a choked breath. You feel Jungkook’s wet hand that’s warm despite the cold deluge, reach back and rub your thigh comfortingly.

“We’re almost there, y/n. Just hold on a little longer.”

It feels like an eternity has passed as you and Jungkook slowly make your way across the sopping wet field, both shivering and frozen to the bone. Yet, as cold and tired as he is, Jungkook won’t stop crawling. He keeps telling you the silliest and most random things, all to keep your mind on him and not falling asleep.

The horror and rage in his mind is hardly bearable, but he puts on a calm front so as not to make you feel worse than you already do. The guilt is eating away at him and he keeps remembering the way your hands felt when you wrapped yourself around him to save his life. The shot keeps ringing in his numb and reddened ears.

Yet with all these thoughts floating around, there’s only one constant in his mind:

Save y/n.

Save y/n? Ha, you did this to her.

“No.” Jungkook’s voice shakes, but he keeps his attention on crawling painfully across the slippery ground.

You’re weak.

You were always weak.

“We tried to go camping once, y/n. Seokjin hyung was the best at cooking but he really couldn’t manage well in the woods, especially at night.” Jungkook laughs weakly and you smile softly.

I guess the sweet girl couldn’t fix everything in the end.

“One time, Jimin and Tae were fighting over a dumpling. I’ve never seen them so upset.” A cough leaves his throat and he sucks in a breath. “You still awake, love?”

“Mm.” You mumble weakly.

Pity…it’s such a waste.

Suddenly, fear grips your heart when you feel the tingling in your arms increase and the strength in them start to fade. It was moving up your body the whole time he was crawling. One of the last things you could feel was your arms. But, now…

No.

Not now.

Please not now.

I don’t want to die.

“J-Jungkookie.” At your whimper he stops and tries to keep his mind and voice calm. “W-what’s the matter?” You try to reply and tell him you can’t hold on much longer, but he sees for himself once your arms go limp and you slide off his back. Dread courses through him as he catches you when you slowly flop to the side. With the last of his strength, Jungkook cradles your dead weight body in his arms like he’s holding an infant and starts to shuffle forward on his knees. His strength and determination would astound anyone. All you can see is a blurry black sky, and Jungkook’s exhausted face. His chest heaving and dripping wet from the rain.

Please, God.

A couple more shuffles and Jungkook can’t go on another inch. Jungkook’s strength is completely gone, even though his mind is screaming at him to go. He physically can’t move another inch. Against his own will, his body slumps to the ground, defeated.

Weak.

Jungkook lies next to you on the hard ground, heavy breaths escaping him as he’s pulling you closer and cuddling you. The realization that he can do nothing now washes over him and takes his breath away, his mind going a mile a minute. Maybe you two can just lay here and leave this world together.

“I’m tired, Kookie…” He nods and brushes your hair out of your eyes softly, “I know, baby.” You breathe in as much as you can as your lungs finally start to fail you, “I can’t feel anything. My arms, I can’t feel them.”

“I know, flower. I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t know what to do.

For the first time ever.

Jeon Jungkook has no idea what to do.

“We’re just going to take a nap, ok?” It takes every ounce of strength in him not to break down completely and sob his eyes out, screaming for someone somewhere to do something. He knows you’re scared, so he needs to stay strong for your sake, he can’t be selfish now. You’re dying and all he can give you is comfort.

Nothing hurts more than that.

You nod weakly and your eyes start to close, listening to his soft breaths beside you.

Just a quick nap. Then, you can cuddle him the rest of the day.

Yeah.

Because you two will be together forever.

He promised. You promised.

Forever.

Jungkook’s body is shaking uncontrollably because his entire world is shattering in his arms.

And there’s nothing he can do to save it.

“Jungkook.” You whisper softly and he caresses your cheek as gently as he can, “Yes, beautiful?”

“I’m sorry, I broke our promise.” The tears glistening in your dazed eyes sends his own tumbling down his beaten and bruised cheeks.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I’ll save you, Jeon Jungkook. I promise.”

The memory makes him choke on his own tears. You never broke your promises to him, and you would keep your last one too. “Thank you, y/n. For loving me and believing in me and seeing my true self when no one else did. You saved me, you made me myself again.”

I can’t do this. Jungkook starts to panic again, because you really are leaving him.

“I love you, Kookie.”

No, don’t.

“I love you too, so much. Now get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”

Please don’t fall asleep, y/n. Don’t leave me.

“You won’t leave? You’ll be here when I wake up?”

I can’t live without you.

I don’t want to.

Why did you have to do this?

We can be together.

I was going to marry you…

No. I can’t keep thinking like this.

He won’t let your sacrifice mean nothing. To the world that would never know the hell you two went through, it meant nothing. The world never cared about Jeon Jungkook, vampire or human. It would never have cared if he died that day.

But, Y/l/n Y/n. She cared. She cared enough to love him when he was nothing but a cold monster with no heart. A nothing to the world of mankind. Nothing but a despicable nuisance that needed to be gotten rid of. Y/n cared enough to give up her own life for him, so he could escape the fate he was given that was worse than death, and return to his old life, the one that seemed so far away.

One that has no meaning to him now.

If he could, he would turn back time and take the bullet. If he could, he would turn back time and tell you again and again how much he loves you. With every breath he would tell you everything he loves about you. He would take in every inch of your face, and never let you go. He would do everything in his power to keep you happy.

He would have done everything you wanted to do; taken you on a walk under the cherry blossom trees and kissed you during the first snow, taken you to the beach and thrown you into the water despite your protests and held your hand on a rollercoaster that you were scared of.

Now, there was no time.

No time for anything anymore.

So, he nods his head and smiles down at you; his gaze scanning over your face, trying to memorize every little detail. Every little perfect imperfection.

“I’ll be right here.” He whispers as a tiny tear slips down his face, his eyes swimming with agony as you stare up into the night sky. The rain has turned into a light sprinkle and you can see some stars shining through the darkness. Calmness envelopes you as you lie in the arms of the only boy you ever loved and gaze at the inky blackness splattered with shining lights.

Jungkook’s eyes are gaunt, and his face is a sickly pale, dark brown eyes shining with pain and agony. Dark bags hang under his eyes and cuts and bruises litter his gentle face. He looks like death itself, but he’s alive. You let your eyes drift closed then you whisper for the last time, “Jeon Jungkook, you’re beautiful. I love you.”

Yes, his eyes definitely hold all the stars in the sky.

“I love you too, y/n.”

Jungkook sees your body relax, then your chest- that was struggling for breath moments before- slows to a stop. He lets out a choked sob in disbelief and pulls your limp body into his shaking cold arms, a desperate prayer for you to come back tumbling from his chapped and bleeding lips. Jungkook presses his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your neck softly as he lies next to you, feeling the last of his strength leave him. But, it’s okay, he won’t fight it anymore. Because if he can die in your arms, that’s all he wants.

Then, a sharp pain where his heart once was causes Jungkook to gasp. A moment later, he feels an odd sensation in his chest. It’s almost familiar somehow…then it hits him.

His heartbeat.

Jungkook looks down at you again in shock and hugs you tighter to his chest. He cries freely as his sobs wrack his entire body. You’re gone. But, you can’t be gone. He was supposed to save you. You already saved him. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.” He sobs between each word as his breath is chased away from him and his heart pounds heavily in his chest. “I could have saved you if I wasn’t so weak. I’m so sorry, y/n. Please, please don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.” Jungkook kisses your head and touches your face gently, as if you could shatter at any moment.

This is it. Everything is gone. Everything that he’s been living for is gone.

Jungkook scrunches up his face in pain when he shifts to stand once more. He puts every tiny little ounce of strength he doesn’t have into lifting you up, his arms shaking uncontrollably.

“Jin!” Jungkook screams at the top of his lungs into the night.

He stumbles forward with your limp body in his weak arms, not willing to believe you’re actually gone. After a couple minutes, he starts to fade. His vision goes blurry and he falls to the ground.

I’m sorry, y/n.

“Jungkook-ah! Jung-…”

Jin shouts as he runs over to Jungkook, staring in horror when he drops to his knees in front of the bloodied boy that’s holding your fragile body to his chest like you’re a life source. Jungkook looks up and Seokjin almost gasps at the pure agony swimming in the boy’s dazed black eyes. Jungkook is soaked and shaking, and his words come out in a choked gasp.

“Hyung…y-y/n…”

The little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn’t mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real, shabbiness doesn’t matter.

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a/n: im sorry pls forgive me.

the lyrics are obviously Kook’s Euphoria, therefore they do not belong to me. Also, the excerpts are from The Velveteen Rabbit book, I do not own them.

tag list: @jjungkook99 @ditttiii @rubinora @fekitza @xxxanimangxxx @jkhey97 @nikikookie @elliegrace1999tvd @krystle1990 @hopeworld-baseline @squidyelmosquidbutt @howbizarre @jeonjungkookismyfuture @your-best-behaviour @adelina1299 @lettersforjoon @karissassirak

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waywardnerd67 · 3 years

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TFWB - Chap 14 Knight in Shining Armor

Summary: Jensen receives a frantic call from (Y/N) to come get her. Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader Pairing: No Pairing Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 1126 Squared Filled: Hurt/Comfort A/N #1: This is for @spnfluffbingo card

Check out: The Family We Built Masterlist

Flipping to the next page, a shiver ran down (Y/N)’s back. The VIP bracelet from a concert Rachel, Molli and her had attended flooded her mind with dark memories. A picture of the three of them smiling up at her could not wash away what had happened after she had gotten back to her car. The only good memory was Jensen sweeping in to save her.

***

The three girls were laughing and singing after the amazing concert. They were all dressed in their daisy dukes, plaids and cowboy boots for the Mega Country show. Every performer had been great and now they were making their way back to their cars. Rachel and Molli had driven separately so they could head to San Antonio to meet up with Jared and his family. Waving goodbye as they drove off, (Y/N) stood by her car letting the cool night breeze wash over her heated skin.

“Hey there pretty lady.”

The gruff voice startled her as she turned to see a tall man behind, “Uh, hi…” she fumbled with her keys cursing herself for having one too many drinks earlier.

“You know… I think maybe you had too good of a time with your gal pals. I think you should let me take you home.” The man stepped closer to her, his sharp jawline and pointy nose coming into the light from under his cowboy hat.

(Y/N) shook her head, “I’m really fine, but thank you.”

The hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood on end as he continued to move towards her. The smell of beer and smoke heavy on him. A sly smirk curling on his face.

He reached out grabbing her wrist, “I said… You’re. Coming. With. Me.”

Several things happened all at once. He tugged her arm hard pulling her body to his. Her gut reaction had her kneeing him breaking free from his grasp. A slew of curse words escaped his mouth as he lunged at her pinning her to the ground. Her head smacking against the pavement hard to the point of her world going black.

When she woke up, she was laying all alone in the parking lot. Her car was gone along with her purse. Her clothes were torn or beside her as the realization of what happened hit her like a ton of bricks. She reached for her cell thankful to find it and took a deep breath to keep her trembling hands steady enough to dial a number.

“Hey pretty girl, did you go out for an after party?” As soon as she heard Jensen’s voice, she burst into tears, “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

She tried to speak, but only anguished sobs kept coming from her mouth. Her body shook as the cold of the night set in. Now her hands were starting to shake uncontrollably where she was losing her grip.

“(Y/N), I’m coming for you right now. Stay right where you are.”

The phone went dead as the last of her battery expended itself. Dropping it to the ground, (Y/N) pulled her knees to her chest wrapping her arms around her legs and continued to cry. She cried until there were no tears left to shed and then the numbness took over. She lost all track of time or reason until she heard Jensen’s soothing voice say her name.

“(Y/N)...”

She looked up seeing his frightened olive eyes staring at her. She went to say something but nothing came out. Slowly, he reached out towards her and suddenly the silent night air was filled with a piercing screeching.

“Hey, hey, hey pretty girl, it’s just me. I just want to carry you to my car.” Jensen’s panicked tone cleared her foggy mind for a moment to realize she was the one screaming, “I got you. You’re safe.”

His warm hands glided over her cold skin awakening her to the reality around her. She reached out grasping his leather jacket as he picked her up. He carefully put her in the backseat and climbed in behind her. She looked up to see Misha in the driver’s seat.

“Mish go to St. David’s Med Center. We need to have her checked out.”

Humiliation flooded her body thinking of everything that happened and fresh tears slid down her face. Jensen held her on his lap humming songs she could not name to her and reassuring her everything would be okay. Once at the hospital, Mish went to the front desk to sign her in as Jensen refused to leave her side. His fingers were laced with hers and his thumb slowly rubbed circles against her palm.

When someone came to take her back, he walked with her becoming authoritative when they tried to stop him, “Listen I’m going back there one way or another. She’s not leaving my sight.”

“Pl-Please, I-I want him with me.” They were the first words she had spoken since everything had happened.

The nurse nodded leading them back to a private room. During the examination, Jensen turned his back like a gentleman but stood right beside her, his eyes never leaving hers. Once every swab was taken, test was run and a statement spoken to the police, she was finally released. Jensen drove her home as Misha had left when they had gone back to the hospital room.

“Thank you.” She whispered as he pulled into her apartment parking lot.

He parked in her assigned spot reminding her that she no longer had a car. When he grabbed a bag from his trunk and started to follow her she stopped.

“You don’t need to…”

“If you think I’m leaving you alone tonight then you’re crazy. I will be right beside you. Always.” The firmness of his statement left her breathless.

She nodded knowing words were not needed. The rest of the night and the next day, Jensen was true to his word. He stayed with her the whole time. Comforting her when she would wake up screaming from a nightmare. Singing or reading to her to help her fall back asleep. Watching her favorite shows and ordering her favorite foods. He worked from her office as she slept and would bring his laptop in her room when she was awake.

Seeing his things with hers and having him there brought a peace to her that she had never felt before. Her aching heart longed for it to stay this way forever, but she knew deep down their friendship would go back to normal. He would go back to his life of a successful, handsome, well off bachelor. She would be back to escaping reality through books. Knowing that is how life was always meant to be.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @dwgrl1903-blog @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @superromijn @witch-of-letters @time-travel-bouqet @screechingartisancashbailiff @myinconnelly1 @sister-winchesters99 @thekatherinewinchester @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @thefaithfulwriter @stoneyggirl @supernaturalginger @emoryhemsworth @wednesdayismyfunday @team-free-will-you-idjiot @atc74 @cosicas-cuquis @casseythebee @miraclesoflove @coldmuffinbanditshoe

#spnfluffbingo #tfwb series #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles #reader insert #angst #fluff #au

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bennyboyjones · 4 years

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The Getaway (Ben Hardy Fanfic) Chapter Four

A/N: Hi! So, here is chapter 4 to my Ben Hardy AU Fanfic! There are currently several chapters written, which you can find on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to also upload it here as well. It might be a bit behind, but you’ll still get all the chaps eventually.

What it is: basically, a girl from a small town who is bored of her life decides to take a trip to Nice where she runs into ben, who is also running away from some shit and some romance ensues.

Word count: 3.7k

in this chapter: hahahaha just read it pls

WATTPAD LINK IF YOU WANT TO READ AHEAD

Spotify playlist

In case you missed it: MASTERLIST

day four

We were taking a walk up to Jardin des Arènes de Cimiez which was a gorgeous garden with ruins and was where the Cimiez Monastery was located. Ben let me decide what we were doing today after I shot down his idea of café hopping which I was sure he had suggested just to make fun of me.

It was going to be a relatively long walk up to the garden but I didn’t mind since it was a really nice day. We were planning to meet at Brassiere L’Olympia, which was where the place he was renting out was located (well, the place he was staying was above it) at around one in the afternoon.

I had woken up early so I could finally take a trip to the grocery store, had a breakfast that consisted of two coffees and two croissants, and went through at least four outfits before landing on one that was comfortable enough to survive the forty-five minute uphill walk and cute enough that it would make a better impression on Ben than what I had worn the night before. My dress was short, hitting an inch or two above my mid-thigh, it was a-line, only leaving a bit of wiggle room between my lower body and the fabric and had a small ruffle running around the bottom edge. It was white with lemons and green leaves and the top was tight, a small ruffle running at the neckline which showed a little bit of my (almost non-existent) cleavage and the straps were thick, tying into bows on my shoulders. It was sweet, but still a little sexy and matched well with white sneakers. I styled my hair into soft curls even though I knew I was going to end up putting it up at some point and kept my makeup as simple as I did on my first night: a red lip and a little mascara.

I had about an hour until I had to meet him and was a bit surprised he never called or texted to confirm.

Last night, before we parted ways, he personally entered his number into my phone and sent himself a text just to make sure that it worked. We had talked about our plans for today for almost thirty minutes last night, planning the day down to every detail, but I still felt uneasy about the fact that I hadn’t heard from him yet this morning. I knew that just because he didn’t text me or call me to make sure we were still on didn’t mean that we weren’t, because I hadn’t reached out to him either and I was pretty sure of our plans. Still, to settle the nervousness in my stomach, I picked up my phone and shot him a text letting him know I would be heading there soon. If he wanted to cancel, this was his chance.

I was completely lost in the excitement of something new. I called my mom last night, after getting back from the date to tell her about everything. All she did was laugh at me and tell me that I was way too deep into something that had only just begun. I knew she was right, but I didn’t stop myself from concocting romantic scenarios in my head last night about all the things that could happen today. This was my problem: I fell extremely easily. It took almost nothing for me to be completely enchanted by someone. I found myself crushing on guys I passed by once on the street, on guys who simply dressed nice, or wore chains (this really got me). But something about Ben felt different, like it was more than just a crush or infatuation. It felt as if it could really turn into something despite our inevitable doom in the form of my trip being over. When I said this to my mom, she laughed harder, “The amount of times I've heard this same speech while you were abroad…Don’t take my laughter wrong,” she said when she heard my annoyed sigh on the other end, “I’m happy for you, I really am—just slightly worried too.”

I had also texted my friends about him and they were requesting daily updates which I was more than happy to supply. I was in the middle of texting Annie back when I looked at the time and realized that I had to leave in the next five minutes if I wanted to be on time. I also realized that Ben never responded.

I went anyway and waited for him a lot longer than I should’ve. At the point where he was thirty minutes late, I decided to go without him, refusing to let being stood up spoil my day.

I really couldn’t wrap my mind around it; why go through all of that yesterday to stand me up? It didn’t make any sense and I knew that there had to be a good reason. If he genuinely didn’t want to see me or wasn’t interested he could’ve made it so much easier for himself; he didn’t have to speak up when he saw me in the cafe, he didn’t have to sit down or ask me to dinner, he didn’t have to ask me to get a drink, or call it a date, or demand to see me today. The only reasoning that made sense was that something had actually come up, but he could’ve given me a call, or answered my text to at least let me know that he couldn’t make it.

The walk up to the garden was taxing, it had only been fifteen minutes and I felt my breath getting short and my calves start to burn. I had my headphones in, the lady from Google Maps interrupting the voice of Matty Healy every few minutes to tell me where to turn.

I loved the style of the buildings and their colors, I loved the little patches of green and flowers in between car lanes and that heavily trafficked bridge I needed to cross had a footpath. I was about halfway there when my phone ‘dinged’ with a text.

*text pic*

I swiped back to the maps and locked my phone ignoring it, trying to focus on the landmarks I could use to find my way back without Google so I wasn’t costing myself an insane amount in data charges.

It was nice that he was sorry and I knew that I should be nice because he probably did have a good reason, but I was still mad and slightly hurt. Also, he just noticed the time? It was almost two p.m, what was he doing that an entire hour slipped by?

I took a deep breath when I got another notification.

*rest of text pic*

I told myself I wouldn’t go to dinner, that I wouldn’t give in without any kind of fight, but I knew myself better than that. I knew at some point today I would ending listening to his apology and explanation.

I let out a big sigh of relief when I saw the sign for the garden; I was sweating and out of breath and having to face the fact that I was severely out of shape. There were a good amount of people milling around the park that was just on the outside of the garden. There was a family playing some game with large ceramic balls, a few older men playing chess, and a few kids running around while their parents spoke to each other a few feet away.

The garden was filled with ruins, large white buildings falling apart and short walls of stone that may have at one time been tall, creating a grid-like maze over the field of grass. Arches were crumbling and I carefully made my way under them, easily getting lost in the field of stone. There was moss growing between bricks, some sprouting small flower-like weeds. I took pictures to send to my mom and then a few on the disposable, knowing how fairytale-like the garden would look on film, because it was fairytale-like. I could see it in a movie, or as an illustration in a story book. I found myself taking careful steps, afraid of disturbing the peace that seemed to belong there. It was quiet and I was the only one there, wandering around, running my hand along something ancient and beautiful.

I found a set of cement steps that seemed relatively new in comparison to the other paths I had walked and followed them up. There were a lot of steps, which took me further uphill. At the end, there was a large gate made of metal and stone which opened to the monastery. It was the color of copper but lighter, and looked so gothic with its arched windows and sharp spires. The architecture was beautiful, with stone laced over stone, ornate designs covering the entire outside. I moved past it and into its garden which was in full bloom.

I walked under arches covered in green, rows of blue, pink, red, and yellow flowers, bright under the sun and dancing with the breeze that came from our height. I strolled under latticed bowers and thought of Coleridge and his Lime Tree and took a deep breath, trying to make myself relax. I felt a well of emotion inside of me—it was all so beautiful and peaceful. I could hear the wind rustling leaves and whistling as it went through arch ways.

When I finally reached the ledge, I felt my breath get caught in my chest. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen: all of Nice, laid out in front of me like a picture that needed painting. I sat on one of the benches that faced the view and took all of it in. I could see the mountains and the beach, the multicolored buildings filling the space between. I saw trees and patches of parks and gardens. I saw churches and cars the size of my hand.

And I started to cry. I had seen this view before and it had moved me in a way that I couldn’t explain, just as it had done now. There was something in that, being alone, on that hill, seeing everything in the quiet. There was something humbling about being there and seeing everything, having the view of a god.

I closed my eyes and let the breeze brush over my face and wished I could stay there forever. I never wanted that moment to end. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to get that feeling back, but I was reliving it as if it were the first time. It was in moments like that I stopped worrying about the shit that brought me there in the first place and just felt immense gratitude. I felt it weigh heavy on my chest, reminding me how lucky I was to be there, how lucky I was that I got to experience that level of beauty.

I felt someone sit at the other end of the bench causing it to tilt with the welcome of their weight. I opened my eyes and tried to sneakily wipe my tears away so whoever it was didn’t think I was crazy. I didn’t look at them, keeping my eyes trained on the view in front of me.

“I’m sorry I stood you up.”

I looked over at the sound of his voice and saw Ben sitting at the end of the bench. I wasn’t very surprised, since he seemed to have a habit of showing up in places I didn’t expect him to. I didn’t say anything, but stared at him.

“I really wanted to do this with you today. Really, I did—I guess I still kind of am.” He tried out a light laugh but stopped once he saw that I didn’t react. He moved closer to me so we were only a few inches apart. “Seriously, I wanted to be here. I wanted to see it all with you, I did. I just…” He trailed off. When I still didn’t say anything and turned my attention back to the view, he rested one arm on the bench behind me and ran his other hand over his face.

I knew I was being cold and a huge part of me wanted to lean into his side, let him wrap his arm around me and accept his apology without any explanation. That part of me didn’t understand what the big deal was if I was so sure this would only be a fling, if none of this really mattered in the long run. But the part of me that was winning wouldn’t give it up that easy. I didn’t like being stood up and if I just let it slide without putting up a fight at all, what would stop it from happening again?

“I got a call from an ex…fiancé.”

I turned to him, “You were engaged?

“For a really short time, like three months and it ended almost a whole year ago. Calling it off was kind of the start of the reevaluation of my entire life.”

“You called it off?”

“Yeah…I didn’t even want to get married.” He laughed lightly.

I turned my entire body towards him, completely interested in this story, “So why get engaged?”

“We had been dating for two and a half years and I was twenty-six, it just seemed like what I was supposed to do—I don’t even think I was really in it anymore, you know? Like, I wasn’t there because I even wanted to be, but because it was easy.” He shrugged, “I know that sounds awful.”

It was my turn to laugh, “Oh, trust me, I know.” I took a breath, “I’ve been on and off with the same guy for years and I’ve come to realize that it’s been out of comfort and not so much love.”

He furrowed his brow, “So, right now, are you on or off?”

“Definitely off. I broke it off for real before I came here.”

“Oh, so I’m your rebound?”

I hit him lightly in the chest, “You’re not a rebound—well…” I joked.

He lifted his hand off the bench and twirled my hair around the ends of his fingers, “If I am, I’m okay with it.”

We were walking around the garden when I realized I was missing a huge chunk of the story, “Wait, you never told me why she called.”

“Who?” He looked confused before realization dawned on his face, “Oh! Well, obviously, we shared a flat while we were together and she stayed when we broke it off. My name isn’t on the lease anymore, but she still calls me whenever something is wrong as an excuse to talk.”

“Ah, she’s still not over you.”

“She was the one who wanted to get married, who was still in love and…I really hurt her, so I always take the call. She called because my mum told her I was here and was upset that I didn’t let her know about my trip.”

I nodded in understanding.

“It wasn’t a fun conversation to have. Then I called my mum and I lost track of time talking to her. I’m really sorry. I know I’ve said it about seven hundred times, but I’m not going to stop.”

I nudged him with my shoulder and told him he was forgiven.

“So your guy,” he offered his arm to me and I linked mine through, “what exactly am I up against?”

“Not much,” I admitted. “His name is Liam and I met him at school. He’s a business major, never really understood the writing thing, he’s good looking but,” I looked over at Ben; looked at eyes, how blond his lashes were, the way his Adams apple bobbed when he swallowed, the soft sunburn coloring his light skin, the way he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, “he doesn’t look like you.”

He stopped walking, unlinked our arms and pulled me into a hug, “My ego just sky rocketed!”

“I didn’t know it could go any higher than it already has!” I laughed into his chest—which was broad, and hard, and the feeling of his arms around me left me burning. He pulled away, pretending to look insulted. “What?!”

“Wha-“ he started but I cut him off.

“C’mon, Ben! You have enough confidence for the entire continent of Europe. That night in the restaurant? Drinking out of my cup at the cafe? Showing up here?”

“But it’s sexy right?” He raised his eyebrows and tried to hold in his laugh. I pushed him away and kept walking but not before giving him a dramatic eye roll.

When he caught up to me, it was my turn to ask. “What about me? What’s my competition?”

“Pfft…” he looked at me as if I had to be kidding, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I want to know!”

“Babe, there is no competition.”

“I hope that means I win.”

“It means you’re fittest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I shrugged and forced myself to act nonchalant, “I’ll take it.”

We walked around the garden a few more times, taking pictures of the view, the flowers, and each other. When I asked him if he was ready to go, he held up his phone, “Not until we get one of us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, us. I just told you my entire life story, I think that makes us close enough to take a picture together.” I couldn’t argue with a good point. We stood at the edge in front of the view and he held up his phone, snapping several pictures before I was ready. After I complained and demanded retakes, we took ones smiling, making funny faces and a few of him with his arm around me kissing my cheek.

On our way back down, he asked if I wanted to have another picnic on the beach, to make up for last night.

“Make up for it? I don’t need a do-over, I thought it was amazing.”

“Josie, we sat on a bin bag!” He spoke slowly as if I wasn’t understanding his reasoning.

“I know, but it was still really sweet.”

“C’mon, please? I found a perfect spot on my way here. It’ll be great, I swear!”

“Fiiiiine.” I gave in, because it was still gorgeous out and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to be alone with him. “But,” I started, “I need to go back and change first. I definitely smell and look all melted.”

“I think you look beautiful.” He said before throwing his arm back around me as we made it out of the garden and onto the sidewalk. I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” he said, “but I’m coming with you.”

Despite my half-baked protests the whole walk back about him coming back to the AirBnB, he ended up inside, sprawled out on the bed while I was trying to pick out an outfit. I already knew what I wanted to wear but was trying to stall having to get in the shower with him there. It was a studio, meaning there was no where for me to really hide and although I trusted that he wouldn’t try anything, since he swore it over and over again on the way down and since he still hadn’t tried to kiss me, I was still a little nervous.

I turned to him and held the apartment key out, “Why don’t you go and get the supplies while I get ready. I’ll send you the key code for downstairs.”

He smiled knowingly, “Sure, love. I’ll be back in a bit.” He rose from the bed and left quietly.

I let out a nervous breath, feeling so much more comfortable with him gone. I wanted to kiss him, and definitely fuck him, but him being on the other side of the door while I was in the shower was a level of intimacy I was not ready for.

It felt good to shower, to feel all the sweat and dirt slide off my body. I stepped out and wrapped the towel around my body while checking my phone to see whether or not Ben had gotten back yet. I didn’t see a text from him asking for the code (I was purposely waiting to give it to him so I knew when he was back and it was safe to leave the bathroom) meaning it was safe to step out.

“Oh, wow…” Ben’s eyes locked with mine and I jumped, not expecting him to be sprawled out on the bed as he was before.

“Fuck! Ben, you didn’t tell me you were back!” I pulled the towel tighter around my body.

He sat up, obviously sensing my discomfort and put a hand over his eyes, “I knocked on the door and told you I was back!”

“You didn’t text and ask for the code!”

“Someone was going in when I got back! I didn’t need it!” He stood up, hand still over his eyes, “Sorry,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, “I’m just gonna…” he held them up to me, “just text me when you’re okay with me coming back.”

I stifled a laugh as he backed out of the studio.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy blurb #ben hardy one shot #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy writing #ben hardy smut #borhap cast #borhap #borhap fanfic #borhap fic #6 underground #billy 6 underground #four 6 underground

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dachi-chan25 · 5 years

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GoT Season 8, Episode 2: Knight of the Seven Kingdoms Thoughts

Like i am not even sure this episode's name is that or "The rightful queen" but I am going with the title I liked more.

I was fully intending of making a big ass Recap like I usually do but today I had a lot of work and I feel like everyone has already talked about the episode since it was leaked so I am just gonna talk about some scenes that I think will be relevant and my take on some shipping stuff.

Again I warn that I don't root for D Targy at all (but I do think she is an amazing character) and she annoys the heck out of me most often than not so... if she is your fave pls don't read this cuz it's not for you.

On Jaime Lannister

I feel this was a great episode for him as a character, while I do wish he would have said something about the wildfire on King's Landing or the Loot Attack I ultimately think that what he did say was the best thing in his PoV because he thinks D is the North's queen now that Jon bent the knee so ofc he wasn't gonna antagonize her that much when he was at clear disadvantage.

His chat with Tyrion was also very good, tho I feel in the books this will be more on a bitter note given Jamie's confession about Tysha, but yeah they are close once again and I appreciate that.

Every scene he had with Brienne had me swooning.Brienne defending him in the Great Hall. All those stares. The clear tension between them and the fact that Brienne doesn't know what to do when they are on the same side and he is not insulting her, so they still fight and pant around each other and I love it (honestly this kind of fighting is a lot like the Jonsa one because they have to get rid of that UST but they can't fuck or even kiss yet so they bicker and pant around each other). I noticed how he stared at Tormund and immediately knew he was intrested in Brienne. And ofc him knighting Brienne was the best of the episode for me (hence my preference of the title aluding to this scene).

On Sansa Stark

Curious that we don't get Sansa or Jon's PoV this episode, just them through other people's eyes.

The Great Hall scene: while I would have loved Sansa defending Jaime like in some fics, I think it does make sense that she feels resentment towards him and his family, but she still was willing to trust him once Brienne spoke on his behalf which says a lot for their relationship and how much Sansa has come to trust and value Brienne and her opinions. She was completely a queen in that scene, she even left the place frist not giving a fuck whatsoever about D.

Tête-à-tête with the gecko queen: Sophie Turner is an amazing actress. Ok so I loved she was telling Lord Royce she wanted to leave the Gates open as long as possible, such a compassionate queen, but also the moment D steps in I lived for Lord Royce clearly showing more respect and deference towards Sansa than towards D (I mean that the whole North respects Sansa as their leader is the very reason why Jorah asked D to talk to her). We see Sansa be closed off towards D in the beginnig even when D is trying hard to be sympathetic to sansa and bond over them being good leaders to their people (bihhh Sansa laughed and so did I cuz just how deluded is D to think she is on Sansa's level of good leadeeship), and D asks the question we have since ep 1 "does that (Jon's love for D) bother you?" And I am absolutely sure that the answer to that is yes, but Sansa was never going to show herself that much to someone she doesn't trust nor even likes (this girl out played LF ffs!!!) so she went for a non-commital answer (is not a yes or a no, she is justifying her distrust for D and appears not to be jealous but a concerned sister) D is appeased by this answer and tries to show Sansa that her and Jon's relationship is real (lmaoo) by stating just how much she sacrified her goals just for his love (like nice that she doesn't pretend to care for the people she wants to be queen of anymore, the Jonsa fandom said this since last season) and straight up says she is the one being manipulated by Jon, and Sansa's face is a poem, cuz you can see exactly the moment when she figures out that Jon is manipulating D!! We even get a smile of relief and promptly she catches herself and changes her behaviour implying she should apologize (but she never actually does) and even lauguing at how short Jon is (Sansa bites her lip tho 👀👀 and D's smile is so fake idk who she thinks she is fooling) but Sansa again brings up the North and D is visibly upset at that.

Scenes with Theon: I am just going to straight up say I do ship Theonsa and I have read fics of them, but I do not think it will be canon or that it makes narrative or political sense cuz it doesn't. Their reunion was heartwarming and beautiful (tho D jealous stare bothered me, like fuck off I wanna see my babies) Sansa was clearly happy at seeing Theon more like himself and having him want to fight for their family. Their scene with the soup was cute but I did not see it as shippy at all, there is definitely affection and care but I don't think it was shot as romance or a couple's montague, it was simply showing us all the different ways the characters we know spend this night. As much as it hurts me because I love Theon, I think it is possible he will die protecting Bran (I really don't want this, but it's a big possibility, cuz I know some big characters must die in order to destroy us as much as possible, and this scenes with Sansa might just serve that purpose) so I'll just drown in theonsa fics if that happens. Also, it kinda make me go 👀👀 the fact that they made the theonsa scenes so alike the jonsa s6 ones but without all that flirty stuff on the soup scene and that it was enough for the GA and some Aegonys to ship it while we know Theon like Jon also grew up with Sansa in WF. Idk it was kinda amusing to me.

On Jon Snow

Ok so this made a lot of sense to me, Jon avoiding D post parentage reveal is what seals pol!Jon to me, if he really loved her he would have gone statight to her in the night and confess this thing he found out while crying and looking for her support and being all hopless longingly staring at her but nope he doesn't even want to look at her (he is probably thinking how he fucked his aunt and shudders). I was also like 👀👀 when he pushed past D to follow Sansa, did they talk?? Did they fight again??? I am thirsty, but it was also a good thing Jon didn't interact with Sansa cuz it would give the game away too soon, as a matter of fact Jon doesn't seek her out like last episode as far as the audience knows and I think that is because he doesn't know what to do he is having an existencial crisis in the middle of the Apocalipsis, and Sam is like have you told her yet??? He knows shit could hit the fan at any minute. I loved his reunion with Tormund and Edd because I love Jon's smile and he has been just miserable since last ep, so yeah I need my boy to be happy.

Now onto the reveal, I think Jon genuinely thought he might as well just say it, D clearly seeked him out for some loving sexy times and Jon was not on board with that, he just couldn't keep it up with her cuz he doesn't love her, never has and now she is his aunt, he just can't do that knowing they are super related, also now D can't leave them (I mean she kind of can fuck off in Drogon and maybe Rhaegal will follow, but her armies can't leave, and they have the obsidian so...) . The fact he called her D@ny is so layered, for starters she told him straight up not to call her that cuz it reminds her of Viserys, so it connects them as family and upsets D at the same time. D straight up thinks that Bran and Sam would make shit up to usurp her (bihhh no one but u and Cersei gives a fuck about the ugly ass chair) and then when she sees Jon is saying the truth she is furious (so much for the aegony marriage fix up that her stans dreamed off, also can we fucking kiss boatie goodbye?? Cuz that sure as hell ain't happening) and Jon is baffled, he knows she wants the IT more than anything and shit but really??? They are about to die, and he has left more than clear to any one that would listen that he doesn't care about titles. Not only that but Jon and her are family now,and family is important to Jon, and she reacts like this???

On Gendrya

I was a bit wierded out cuz we have seen Maise since she was a kid (lmaoo i am like a year older than her) but more power to her for the scene, also I really love Gendrya and their interactions have been so flirty and charged with chemistry. I am worried about Gendry's survival, but I think he might live.

On everything else:

I loved Gilly and Dadvos's scene, it was so good and I wish they would give Gilly more lines.

Missandei and Greyworm making plans for after the war makes me worried one of them will die, also now that D will feel betrayed by Jon, I fear she will think GW and Missandei wanting to leave is also treason. I AM WORRIED. Also to ppl doesn't trust Missandei cuz she is with d and nobody in the north trusts Targs not even children.

Tyrion talking about destroying Cersei made him seem more Book!Tyrion than ever and I just shudderd. D literally never wants to take responsability for any desicion when she refused to fight for the north if Cersei didn't joined them. Also she would really have named Jorah hand??? She is dumb as a brick. His scene with Jaime, Brienne and co. Was cute.

Podrick was looking fine and his voice was really good. Also that Jenny of Oldstone song with all it's jonsa vibes 👀👀.

#got #got s8 recaps #dachi rambles #jonsa #dachi rants

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yootaesowlwrites · 5 years

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The Angel Demon Hybrid Chapter 7;

Chapter 7 - The Angel Demon Hybrid Series.

First Season.

Alex steps out of Hayley and Jackson's apartment building after checking up on Jackson to make sure he was still all right, she walks across the street but stops once she realized where she was, she looks up at the building knowing the Mikaelson's lived in it, but what she didn't know was why it was haunting her dreams, she takes in a deep breath turning away from the building only to pushed inside and up against the brick wall, she lets out a gasp of shock as her eyes widen.

"Alexandra," Elijah whispers, Alex breathes heavily while looking up at him. "It is indeed you." He sounded relieved. "Do you have any idea how long I've searched for you? How far I've searched?" Elijah lifts his hand to her face, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Where have you been all this time?" Alex placed her hands on his shoulders and forces him back, he hits the wall behind him and falls to the ground.

"Las Vegas," Alex answers, Elijah looks up at her in surprise. "Not that it is any of your business." She walks to the middle of the courtyard as Elijah slowly stood from the ground. "Hayley had mentioned you were looking for me." Elijah watched her cautiously. "You found me, now what?" Elijah takes a step towards her. "Haven't you hurt me enough?"

"I can assure you that my intentions were not to hurt you," Elijah says, he takes another step towards her.

"Yet you did," Alex says. "You don't even realize what you have done to me, did you ever consider how much damage you would cause?" Elijah stayed silent. "Of course you didn't consider the consequences, I mean, I wouldn't have either if I were a vampire." Alex takes a step towards Elijah. "Do you realize how much I wanted to die? I was on the verge of taking my own life." Elijah looked apologetic, but Alex wasn't having it. "But I am very far from being a lost cause."

"Please, listen to me, if I were to stay my mother would have killed you," Elijah says. "I was protecting you."

"I don't need your protection!" Alex says loudly. "And you certainly don't protect someone by telling them that they are nothing! A waste of space!" Alex looks into his eyes. "Who would protect them for themselves?"

"Alex-" Elijah softly says, but Alex quickly cuts him off.

"Besides, it wouldn't have mattered if your mother was the one to kill me or not, Death was unavoidable for me," Alex says.

"Alexandra, pl-" Elijah begin but Alex was quick to cut him off again.

"It's Alex, Just Alex, now," Alex says, she takes in a deep breath. "It's just Alex now, Alexandra died September 11th 2012." Elijah didn't believe her and she could see it.

"I refuse to believe that, you told me the exact same thing a year prior to 2012," Elijah says. "I doubt you have died because you're standing here in front of me, Alexandra is still in there." Out of anger and frustration, Alex's wings spread behind her as her eyes turn a bright blue, Elijah takes a step back in shock.

"Alexandra is dead, Alexandra was the weak human and she was murdered by a witch and a vampire searching for you and your family." Alex spits out in anger. "I awoke inside my own coffin seven days after my death." Hayley and Jackson step into the compound but stop once they see Alex and Elijah in the courtyard, they try to stay hidden but Alex could sense their presence. "I haven't been human for over a year now." Freya steps out from the upstairs living room to see what was happening downstairs.

"If you are not human, what exactly are you?" Elijah asks. "What can you do? Are you the supposed beast?" Elijah's facial expression change as his mood changes, he was no longer as welcoming as before. "Are you here to destroy my family? To end us?" Alex could hear the anger in his voice.

"If I wished to end you or your family..." Alex slowly says, her demon side was fighting to take control. "Then I would have done so a long time ago, Elijah." Elijah glares at her as they step closer to each other.

"Brother!" Freya says loudly, Elijah looks up at Freya as she makes her way down the stairs. "If she wanted us dead, why would she have saved me?"

"I doubt that she would have gone through all the trouble to save me from the Strix," Hayley says. "And I doubt that she would have revived Jackson as well." Alex retracts her wings as Elijah was trying to think of something to say, he was at loss for words, Klaus stops into the compound with a blonde woman following him.

"You have no right, those dark objects are my family's legacy," Camille says, Klaus stops and turns around to face her.

"Last time I check, Kol created them," Klaus says, Camille growls at him.

"Give them back or I will take them back and I swear you will regret this moment," Camille says.

"The only thing I regret is failing to realize how far you've spun out of control, and you can forget about leaving," Klaus says, Camille lets out a huff before a look of realization crosses her face.

"She was right, wasn't she? Aurora? She did this to turn you against me, to rob me of the one advance I have over her, my humanity, and me, like this? It's a problem for you, isn't? Not the darkness, that you find intriguing, the fact that I am out of control." Camille says, Klaus only glares at her which boosts her confidence.

"This can't be Klaus," Alex mumbles to herself.

"I'm out of your control and you hate it, don't you? You have spent ten centuries getting the entire world to tremble at your name, but you're the one who's terrified, Klaus, you are a scared little kid, convinced he'll be tossed aside the second he isn't needed." Camille says, Klaus takes hold of Camille's arm in anger, shocking her. "Let go of me." Her confidence was now gone, Hayley steps between Klaus and Camille.

"You can't force her to stay here," Hayley says.

"Finally, somebody who's on my side," Camille says, Hayley turns her glare from Klaus to Camille.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I remember when I turned and you for sure shouldn't have a box of crap," Hayley says, she looks at Klaus. "But you can't hold her hostage either, let me talk to her."

"I hardly think now is the time for a women's empowering meeting," Klaus says, Hayley lets out a sigh.

"She died, Klaus," Hayley says. "Because she got caught up in Mikaelson would, just like me, Just like Jackson and Alex as well, so yeah, she and I have a few things to talk about."

"Well, as far as I can see, Jackson is still breathing and very much alive," Klaus says acknowledging Jackson. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?" He questions. "And as for this Alex person, I have absolutely no idea who you're talking about."

"Uh, Excuse me, I brought him back, I hope that wasn't a problem," Alex says, Klaus looks at Alex. "And it hasn't been that long since we last saw each other."

"Alex? The Alex from Mystic Falls?" Klaus asks. "I thought you had died a long time ago, but seeing as you're still alive, Allow me to tell you how long Elijah has searched for you."

"Okay, no, I did die, but then I came back," Alex says, she glances at Elijah. "And trust me, I've already heard about his search." Klaus looks at her intrigued. "But I'm putting a pin in that, I'm more curious at the fact that she's still alive right now." Alex looks at Camille. "Because as far as I remember, you kill one of your hybrids because they were out of line, yet, she is still alive." Camille glares at Alex. "Let's see if I have this right, Let me know if I have anything wrong, You're a bartender wanting to be a therapist, but then got turned into a vampire and now thinks she's invincible."

"Alexandra," Elijah warns.

"Alex." Alex correcting, Elijah lets out a sigh.

"Please do not anger my brother," Elijah says, Alex looks up at Elijah.

"It's not like he can kill me, Elijah," Alex states, Elijah wasn't sure how to respond to her and almost seemed conflicted.

"Freya, would you and Jackson mind keeping Alexandra company while Niklaus and I have a word?" Elijah asks, he did not want a fight between his brother and Alex to break out, he had no idea what Alex was capable of doing and he had admitted it to himself, he did not trust her.

"It's Alex." Alex corrects him again.

"Uh yeah, sure," Freya says, Elijah gives her a thankful smile before walking up the stairs with Klaus following him.

"We need to talk." Hayley states, she leads an unwilling Camille into another room and shuts the door, Alex looks at Freya and Jackson.

"So, listen guys, I would love to stay and chat or whatever, but I have plans for the evening, so goodbye," Alex says, she teleports herself out of the building and back into her penthouse.

#The Originals Fan Fiction #Elijah Mikaelson Fan Fiction #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagines

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mayuuunaise · 6 years

Text

fic: antiseptic and honey

a/n: what do u know, after 1231829312317 years i finally post it :’))))) lmao. based on @madokasoratsugu‘s fantastic mafia au!! read on: ao3 | under the cut (pls do urselves a favour and just read on ao3 mwa)

one.

It is a few weeks after their first awkward meeting before they’ve set up their routine (Isami remembers rain and angry tears. He doesn’t think such a tiny person could ever be so loud. He doesn’t think even she has thought she could be as angry as she was at that time. He honest to god thinks it’s impressive, considering how a tiny, nervous medic seems to intimidate mafiosi bosses and known hitmen into silence). It is even longer after that before Isami acknowledges that he goes through with the routine simply because he wants to, and not just because of some silly honorable agenda.

Originally, the “routine” has been set up via a collective vote from the heads that make up the Nakiri Alliance. After Yukihira and Tadokoro’s screaming match the night he and his brother arrived in Nakiri’s mansion, Nakiri has decided to monitor (she uses the words “check up” but Isami has been in the business long enough to read between the lines) the civilian doctor. All eyes in the room unanimously turn to him and Isami is honestly a little bit flattered. Who better to pick than mild-mannered, free-spirited Isami? Of course, Isami himself admits he looks relatively harmless, all cheshire grins and gentleman chivalry, but always manages to get the information he needs (the younger Aldini notes that the people in the room casually leave out that his usual means of information gathering involve at least three different forms of torture. Still not worse than Alice, though).

Still, the Aldini don dutifully does as he is told. The problem is, he continues to do it long after Alice has cleared the doctor of any sort of need for a defense protocol. Isami simply doesn’t let the habit die.

Isami pops around the medic wing every so often some time after dinner, or right after his errands some days (whenever he’s presentable and not caked in someone else’s blood; Isami is a gentleman, after all, and Tadokoro should never see a sight so gruesome, even if she is a doctor). He then proceeds to make up some wild excuse or another; the week before last was a paper cut (Isami now knows how difficult it actually is to intentionally get yourself a paper cut). The month before he didn’t even need to fabricate a silly reason: someone had let Yukihira play in the kitchen and he’d managed to get himself food poisoned off of those horrible peanut butter squids the assassin was grilling (for a brief moment of terror, all of the Nakiri household had wondered if Yukihira had managed to steal Arato’s poison collection somehow. Arato has assured everyone that not even the master thief Ibusaki would be able to get his slippery fingers on any of them).

Isami is nothing but a chatterbox, and he has noticed how it help relaxes the young woman. He talks to her about his day (leaving out any vile details, should there be any) and his dogs and Tadokoro laughs in that soft and shy way she does every so often. Isami makes sure, for his sake, Tadokoro’s, and all the mafiosi under Nakiri’s roof, to shift their topic of conversation to Tadokoro and her life before getting caught up in their world. He admits that he tries to steer clear or deflect any and all of her questions about the darker side of the life she now lives. Recently, it’s been proving to be a difficult task when Isami’s just far too tired and faced with the most honest amber eyes he has ever seen. Tadokoro is often even quieter in moments like those, and the mafioso appreciates the gentle silence between them.

The brunette also always makes sure to accompany her back to her room. Tadokoro normally rejects the offer, but recently hasn’t been bothered to do so; Isami takes this as a good sign (of what exactly, he is not entirely sure). He ends the night with chaste kisses on both cheeks. The Italian pretends he doesn’t notice her face flush every time he does so, but gives her a cheeky smirk and bids her good night all the same.

Tonight, after a particularly tenacious back-alley thug has given him enough reason to actually use his fists, the younger Aldini don barges into Tadokoro’s medic wing with bruised knuckles. Tadokoro isn’t even surprised anymore, and only spares a glance at the clock before smiling warmly at him. He pretends not to notice the room brightening. Isami flashes her an easygoing grin before he holds up an ungloved hand, “I think they’re broken,” he chirps out.

Tadokoro looks a little alarmed at the state of his knuckles. Angry red marks slash itself across his olive skin, while blue and purple bruises sit atop the bones. Isami rarely has to use the aftermath of his day’s work as an excuse to see Tadokoro, so he understands her concern. After all, Takumi is the short ranged fighter, not him.

“What, what happened!?” she frantically asks. Tadokoro quickly moves from her seat, gesturing him to sit on one of the medic beds as she busies herself into finding their first aid kit. Isami doesn’t need to be told twice, happily making himself comfortable at the foot of the medic bed nearest her desk.

“Hm, I suppose I punched a brick wall,” Isami hums something in the back of his throat, attempting to kick up his legs reminiscent to his more innocent, childhood days (back when his feet wouldn’t reach the floor and mama would laugh at the sight of him). The brunette supposes it’s a half truth: that Himuro thug’s face was about as solid as a cement road. When Tadokoro gives him that half-frown-half-pout look, the Aldini don lets out a chuckle; he recognizes it as the face she makes when she knows he’s not giving her all the details. Isami should feel a little more guilty about it, but half truths slip out more easily than the whole when it comes to him. As with literally anyone else part of the Nakiri family alliance, Isami operates on the principle that Tadokoro doesn’t need to know any more than she already does.

After her fight with Yukihira, Tadokoro has yet to kick up a fuss about needing information. Isami doesn’t know if it’s because she understands that this is the most she’ll ever get, or Tadokoro simply doesn’t want anything more to do with their world. When the young medic sits across from him and gingerly takes his hand to inspect it, Isami hopes it’s the latter (he knows, deep in his heart, that Tadokoro is not that kind of person, not the type to abandon old friends and new acquaintances she’s barely met).

“Good news is, it’s not broken,” the medic comments off-handedly. Her fingers graze over his knuckles so gently he’s sure he has imagined it. The spike in his heart rate says otherwise. “It might be a little fractured, but we’ll have to use the x-ray to check. I’ll ask Jun-san for it tomorrow.” She looks up at him, wide-eyed and professional and Isami is a little taken aback by how attractive she looks right now, a few blue tendrils from her immaculate French braid framing her face. “Would you happen to be free tomorrow afternoon? Hayama-san says they’ll both be back by then,”

“For you, I’d have all the time in the world.”

Tadokoro squirms in her seat, but isn’t uncomfortable by his light flirting. Isami knows because there’s this tiny little smile on her lips that lets him know she finds it funny, at the very least. Isami would never want her to be uncomfortable because of him and has regularly voiced it so, assuring the young medic that he means no harm at all (and the brunette promises he’ll stop the moment he stops seeing that little smile on her lips). Tadokoro sets to work, cautions and medical terms flying off her mouth as one hand rummages through their first aid kit. Her other hand doesn’t let go of his, the warmth of her fingers seeping through his cold palm.

Isami is close enough to smell the mix of antiseptic and honey off of her, an odd combination so uniquely Tadokoro Megumi. He indulges, if only for a moment, and lets the melody of her voice lull him into a space where the smoking guns and territory wars won’t reach.

two.

Takumi has been looking at him weirdly for the past week. Isami recognizes it as a reflection of the same pointed look he sends his brother when he challenges Yukihira for another round of sparring (or, as the younger brother likes to call it, “Weird Violent Foreplay,” not that he’s all too judgmental about his brother’s sexual exploits or kinks for that matter. Arato has shared with him in the strictest confidence of her surprisingly plastered head how much of a body worship-princess kink Nakiri has, after all). There’s something else in there though that he can’t quite explain; it has been far too long for Isami to remember the last time he’s been unable to fully understand his older brother and all the nuances of his upturned, sculpted brow.

Takumi breaks the silence the eve before the both of them venture off for another business trip abroad.

“What was your excuse tonight?” the blonde asks nonchalantly. Takumi doesn’t look at him, and keeps his eyes trained on the brass knuckles over his fingers instead. He’s acting as if he’s inspecting them, but Isami knows his brother like the inner mechanisms of his favourite revolver. Takumi has probably been waiting for him to enter their suite, question hot on his tongue. And yet, his older brother continues to act as if he’s busy packing up essentials for their trip when it’s obvious from the unopened box of his borther’s favourite set of feather dusters that claims otherwise. Isami almost wants to burst out laughing for his brother’s innate inability to act subtle around him. Isami supposes this is why he’s in charge of negotiations and information deals, while Takumi inspires loyalty over their famiglia without question.

Still, the younger of the two refuses to indulge his brother so easily.

“What do you mean?” Isami pulls up a suitcase from under the bed, awaiting his brother’s response.

Takumi raises a brow, the corners of his lips quirking just a tiny bit to accept his younger brother’s challenge. “Did you go see the medic again tonight?”

“What if I did?”

“Whatever for?”

“Why is it your business?” Isami’s lips quirk in the slightest bit upwards. Takumi would never win against him in a game of questions like these. This is, after all, what Isami has trained with and worked for all his life. He brings up a gloved hand and traces the patch of gauze just a few centimeters shy of his left eye. That bastard Tohru sure got him good with that one, almost lodged right into his eye socket if Hayama hadn’t pulled him back just in time. “Besides, can’t you see how wounded I am?”

Takumi reaches out, gripping the taller brother’s chin with a firm grasp. He tilts Isami’s head to the side, sharp blue eyes zeroing in on the knife wound hidden beneath the carefully placed bandages. “I suppose the medic did a fair enough job. I don’t want my baby brother ruining his pretty face.” Takumi raises an eyebrow slyly before drawling out. “Heard that’s quite unpopular with the ladies.”

“So you think I’m pretty, brother?” Isami gasps, both hands now holding his cheeks in mock surprise and delight. Takumi finally rolls his eyes, signaling an end to their game.

“Alice has cleared Tadokoro-san weeks ago.” Takumi has never really cared much for tact. His patience has clearly run thin, as with anything else. When Isami is about to fully laugh, he meets his brother’s icy gaze and pauses, smile halfway on his face. “Your job is done, Isami.”

“No one is telling me to stop,” the younger of the two counters back, removing his brother’s hold on his chin with a quick swipe of the back of his arm. He drops the pretense as easily as he drops his clothes into his open suitcase. His own blue eyes level with his brother; he doesn’t quite grasp why, but something inside is itching for him to argue. “I don’t understand why exactly this is relevant.” Isami turns his back on Takumi before his brother can say anything else. He tries to seem busy packing for a business trip he has forgotten the details of. “I’m not compromising my work because of it. And-”

“She’s a civilian, Isami,” Takumi cuts him off. Isami is mildly surprised he hasn’t noticed his brother approach. The height difference between the twins is irrelevant; Takumi still looks imposing despite reaching only the tip of his younger brother’s tall nose. “Enough goofing off: the sooner you stop playing pretend, the easier it’ll be.”

Isami hears the unspoken warning behind his brother’s words: She’s not supposed to be here; quit normalizing this kind of life for her.

The younger Aldini almost cracks a smile at his brother’s roundabout way of showing concern. Still, Isami strikes back.

“I’m not pretending,” he comments softly. The edge in his voice is gone and for a moment, they stand in silence in a way that only brothers would, he reckons.

“To be associated with an Aldini don won’t always guarantee her safety,” Takumi warns, his voice just as quiet as the brunette’s. Isami is well aware of that fact. After their most recent betrayal, the Aldini family certainly does not have the most plentiful of allies. Associating with the Nakiri family has been the first step to recovering their status and prestige (and overall do-not-fuck-with-us vibe of warning at the mere mention of their names, he supposes).

“Well,” Isami hums back. His hands automatically pick up one of his personal favourites: a sleek black gloc with the Aldini family crest engraved on the handle. “The public doesn’t really need to know.”

Takumi finally cracks a grin before he comments flippantly, “Here’s to hoping she doesn’t need to know either.”

Isami feels his chest constrict at the implications Takumi’s words hold. With his brother’s back facing the younger Aldini, Isami’s cheshire grin goes a little stiff. The grip on his gun tightens, the leather of his gloves stretching almost uncomfortably over his knuckles.

“Let them try.”

three.

Isami soon discovers that adept doctor she may be, gambling goddess, Tadokoro is not.

Yukihira guffaws before hacking up a lung. Though Tadokoro’s face is flushed red in embarrassment, she still manages to reprimand the red haired young man about opening stitches should he continue with his rambunctious behaviour. Takumi shakes his head, though in equally bad shape, the older Aldini prides himself on being more mature by simply smirking smugly at the way Tadokoro berates the freelance assassin (what a child, Isami thinks).

“But it’s funny!” Yukihira whines, readjusting his position on the medic bed. He’s been out like a light for three days, Isami doesn’t blame him for finding everything amusing. He suspects the painkillers Jun has been injecting the assassin with is also partially to blame. He has the aching suspicion that the assassin might be sneaking more than what’s prescribed, but he has no proof for it. “You can’t lie at all, Tadokoro. You’re horrible at this.”

“I hate to say it,” Takumi clicks his tongue in distaste, as if he practically forces himself to spit out his next words. “But Yukihira is right, Tadokoro-san. You really are quite bad at this.”

Tadokoro, in turn, puffs out her cheeks and pouts, unable to argue otherwise. It’s so cute, Isami is actually tempted to join in on the teasing. The grin Yukihira shoots his brother might be enough to change his mind, however, as the blonde goes on another irritated tirade about actually agreeing with the red head over anything. He disregards his brother and Yukihira’s banter-flirting to gather up the playing cards scattered on their bed sheets.

They have been playing since Yukihira has stirred and complained of dry throats and crippling boredom. Isami recalls hearing the former freelancer bemoan his current situation, not because of actual pain but more the dull ache that comes with being unable to even move and it’s just so, so, so boring Isami. How can something so good for your body be so boring?

Isami tells him not to let Jun or Tadokoro hear any of his whining, and cuts him off just in time for a pop of blue hair to enter his vision, scurrying about with notes on Yukihira’s vitals and checking his bandages and bruises. The brunette manages to entertain the red head enough to not openly complain against the one person who would voluntarily treat the young man’s wounds by quickly producing a deck of cards from somewhere in his coat pocket. Takumi, from the adjacent bed and possibly equally bored (or even more so, considering he has been awake and practically chained to the bed for two days), demands Isami push his closer to Yukihira’s in order to play with them.

“Perhaps, poker is simply not her strong suit,” Isami hums out. Being the only one who could actually move his torso well enough (Takumi has dislocated his shoulder again along with a stab near his pancreas. Yukihira, meanwhile, has three bruised ribs and has his right leg strung up on a cast. Isami’s far too careful for injuries like those, but still has his right bicep wrapped up in gauze from a grazed bullet), the brunette has automatically decreed himself the dealer. He shuffles the playing cards with practiced ease, flipping and showering and catching from one hand to the other. “Do you consider yourself lucky, Tadokoro-chan?”

“Having had Yukihira as a patient for the past near decade? Doubtful,” Takumi drawls out, earning another halfhearted glare from said red head.

“He wasn’t even talking to you!”

Isami tunes them out easily enough, having had practice from the abundance of missions Nakiri has been putting them in as of late. He chooses instead to tilt his head towards Tadokoro, finding her fair features far easier on the eyes compared to the two idiots in matching hospital beds. Tadokoro herself looks troubled, fidgeting with her hands as if she’s trying to physically control the urge to not give a damn about the two flirts in the room (there are three, exactly, if you count him as well. But he’s playing nice. Tadokoro-chan doesn’t need the extra trouble).

He shuffles the cards once more, “Have you ever played Black Jack, Tadokoro-chan?”

Isami figures out easily enough that Tadokoro really is absolutely hopeless in gambling, which is oddly attractive to him. She brightens easily when she has good cards, grimaces with a pout when she has bad combinations. Isami would laugh at how easy it is to even just guess if she needs any extra cards or not; just a little sleight of hand and a little probability calculations has him drawing exactly the cards she needs.

Yukihira has told him time and time again how incredibly impressed he is with the combination of Isami’s (un)natural luck, astounding poker face, and quick thinking. Isami shrugs that perhaps he’s simply honed it all from years in the underground mafia business (he doesn’t tell Tadokoro this, however. His heart couldn’t take seeing her horrified expression at the thought). Yukihira repeats this sentiment now, with a deliberate glance towards the unsuspecting blue haired medic who wins another round of black jack that has her giggling in such a tiny, soft voice it makes even Takumi’s ice cold heart melt. Isami laughs and shuffles the deck again, beaming back at Tadokoro as he does so when she tells him that Isami’s luck must have rubbed on her today (Yukihira laughs, has the gall to actually laugh. Takumi stares at the two of them with an impressive frown on his face).

His older brother grumbles a little when he takes the risk and yet receives another face card that sends him over the required number (not Isami’s fault, this time. He swears the only cards he adjusts are for the pretty medic who has been the butt of gambling jokes one too many times today).

Yukihira levels him a cross between a glare and a smug grin. “Cheater,” his lips read out. Isami doesn’t even try to deny it, shrugging his good arm as he hands the medic another one of the smaller cards to hit closer to 21. Tadokoro’s reaction is immediate, shoulder perking up and a bright smile on her lips. Isami decides it’s more than enough of a trade off, he’s a goddamn winner already.

four.

He doesn’t remember nor does he realize when or how her name shifts from Tadokoro-chan to Megumi in his head. Suddenly it seems as if it’s simply the most natural thing in the world to do. When he accidentally says it out loud one day to thank her as she stitches up his palm (a paper cut, he explains to her. Papers sure are sharp these days, leaving an inch deep wound on his hand), Megumi’s cheeks dust pink, but otherwise says nothing about it. She’s more preoccupied by his obvious lie and continues to reprimand him for worrying her (he tries hard not to dwell on this little bit of information). He rolls with it, not thinking too much of it. Isami figures if that irritating young man from the bar called Isshiki could call her by her first name, then so should he, right? She calls him Isami even when Takumi isn’t around, anyway. Isn’t that what friends do?

The first to take notice is Alice (as usual, that nosy gossip he somehow affectionately calls his friend). And Alice, being Alice, does not let it slide.

“Say that again,” she demands with all the pompous air of a spoiled princess. She twirls her wine glass with one hand absent-mindedly, wide ruby red eyes trained on him with a gleeful little grin painted on her dainty face. Isami knows he can’t weasel his way out of this one, not with Alice.

Still, Isami is nothing if not a trier.

“Say what again?” he asks coyly.

The frown Alice sends him is comically cute enough for him to break out into a grin. Isami imagines if the wine glass had not been hers, pilfered from her cousin’s collection undoubtedly, Alice would have thrown it to his head already with pinpoint accuracy.

“You said her name!” she points out accusingly, leaning forward in her seat across him. Isami has the slightest urge to lean back. He brushes the thought from his head and mimics her position instead.

“Whose name?” he presses on. Alice is having none of it.

“Muu-! Isami-kun is a meanie who doesn’t tell me anything anymore!” the platinum blonde complains. Her small fists bang a rhythm on the table top. “Who taught you to act this way, huh? I bet it was Takumi-kun, wasn’t it?” Alice’s temper tantrum only encourages him to laugh, which definitely does not slow down the half Scandinavian beauty. If anything, it only sends her into a more childish fit.

“My dear, you have taught me everything I know, don’t you remember?” All technically true, in his defense. This little comment causes Alice to pause, the tears wavering in the corner of her eyes look almost comical as she trains bright red eyes at him. A normal man would flinch under her heavy gaze, but Isami has never really considered himself to be normal.

“True enough,” Alice almost sounds proud. “But I never taught you to lie.” She huffs out, putting her tongue out to childishly blow a raspberry at him.

“There’s nothing to tell, anyway,” Isami cuts her off with a half truth before she sends a knife to his head. He’d very much like to keep his current hair style, thank you (and his head, for that matter). “Don’t friends call each other by their names?”

Alice scoffs, finally leaning back into her plush chair. “You don’t have friends. Your categories include those you kill when need be, and then there are those Takumi-kun says you can’t kill. An easy life to follow, if I do say so myself; none of that gray area bullshit.”

“I’m offended,” Isami mocks, a gloved hand to his chest. “Who are you then, if I didn’t have any friends?”

“Your mistress,” Alice readily croons, almost silver bangs falling to hide her pretty eyes. The coy smile on her painted lips let him know she’s not completely serious. They share a momentary pause in banter as they sip their wine casually, each appraising the other in a silent battle of who will give in first.

“It’s cruel for you to accuse me as someone so heartless, Alice,” Isami counters with a cheshire grin of his own. “I’d like to think that my brother and I aren’t quite the socially inept workaholics you think we are.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about charisma,” she tuts, followed by a merry little giggle. “You Aldini brothers have plenty of that, don’t get me wrong.” The blonde winks and takes her wine glass, placing it close to her lips before she continues. “I’m talking about your ruthlessness getting in the way of your ‘friendships.’”

Isami’s glass stills in his hand, and his lips form a thin line.

“You know,” she urges on, her syllables practically a drawl as they leave her tongue. The red on her lips look more sinister than they should be. Isami doesn’t move, but his blue eyes are ice cold as they level with her own ruby ones. “I wonder if she knows about the Aldinis and their reputation with those who cross the line?”

She leans in; her eyes are hooded and Isami can practically see the winged tips of her eyeliner. They look sharp enough to cut.

“Does Megumi even know what you’re truly capable of, Isami-kun?” Alice mocks. The only reason he hasn’t put a bullet in her head is because she’s Alice. Takumi would be thoroughly disappointed in him if he did. The blonde tilts her head to the side, “Takumi-kun might be the one always bruised and bloodied, but whose kill count is higher? Who, exactly, brought down the Katagiri empire?”

Isami mirrors the title of her head, and compliments it with a thin, catlike smile. “I want to punch a hole in your skull with a screwdriver.”

Alice laughs in response and the tension is gone. Isami takes a sip of his wine and pretends to look intimidating before he cracks and laughs along with her.

“Oh, you have it bad,” Alice comments off handedly, lips kissing the rim of her wine glass before she tips back the remnants of the alcohol. Isami hums and does the same. He pretends not to hear her and shifts the topic to one Alice readily bites into: her cousin’s disastrous love life. Isami tries to forget

five.

Isami’s heart hammers in his chest at the news. Hayama has informed him via text of her condition, the only one considerate enough to remember that he might at all be affected by the situation at hand. He drops his phone into the deep recesses of their sedan in his shock before telling their driver to pull over and get out. Takumi’s eyebrows are raised in question, Isami is out of the lounge of the backseat and dragging their Nakiri-designated driver out of the front as quick as possible.

“Isami, what the hell are you-” Takumi barely has the time to construct a sentence before his younger brother practically floors it and makes a sharp twist back to the Nakiri mansion. They have an incredibly important mission to accomplish, a message to send to Eizan and his petty little band of traffickers at Nakiri’s demands (as well as his and his brother’s). Nothing is as important for him than to get back there as soon as possible.

He can hear Takumi telling him to stop, to calm down, what the fuck is going on, brother, talk to me. He puts more weight into the clutch and shifts another gear higher. When the blonde quiets down in the backseat, Isami takes the time to glance momentarily at the rear-view mirror. Takumi’s fair features pale considerably, his grip on Isami’s fallen phone impossibly tight that a small voice in the back of his head fears it might crack.

No, there are things he fears more right now. Takumi’s voice is but a whisper when he tells him to hurry.

“Where is he?” Isami’s voice is low and quiet as he stalks the halls of Nakiri’s giant mansion. The maids who have the unfortunate luck of being in the vicinity tense before scurrying along in fear. They don’t know who he’s talking about but they aren’t paid enough to know (nor do they want to, he’ll later think). His feet take him to the common room, Takumi hot on his heels but silent. When the twins start hearing hushed but angry voices from one of the lounges they use for informal meetings, their direction shifts with their steps more hurried.

Isami slams the door open, startling the residents inside. Nakiri starts to step towards the two, but Arato holds her back. It doesn’t matter to Isami when his cold blue eyes zero in on one person only.

“You were supposed to protect her!” His fist connects with Kurokiba’s cheekbone before the brunette can even think twice about what he’s doing. Kurokiba hits his favourite wine collection and sends about half of the bottles crashing down, staining Nakiri’s carpets a deep burgundy in its wake. In his periphery, he can see Alice move to take her daggers, but Takumi quickly steps in the way of her rage. That doesn’t really register in his head. None of the noise and the panic and the tension does.

All he sees is red.

“She’s innocent!” Kurokiba doesn’t defend himself, letting the Italian’s knuckles paint bruises and cuts on his mouth and jaw. In the back of his head, Isami wonders if this is what his brother feels on the battlefield. Wonders if all that adrenaline and anger rushes to his brain as fast as it does to him. Isami has never wanted to hurt someone so bad, not even that rat Mimasaka. “She-wasn’t-supposed-” each syllable is accompanied by a fist. “-to-get-hurt!”

“Hey, calm down, buddy.” Yukihira’s grip is stronger than it looks as he quickly hooks his arms underneath Isami’s, effectively restraining the mafioso don’s movements. Not that it really does much considering he could always kick Kurokiba in the face just as easily (he does, and Alice’s aide falls back on his back, making no motion to stand up).

“I fucking trusted you, Kurokiba!” Isami lashes out, ignoring Yukihira’s continuously tightening hold of his extremities. The dark haired man sprawled in front of him twitches the slightest bit, and it’s all the signal Isami needs to tap into his fury once more. He hears a guttural scream and barely processes that it comes from him until Yukihira shouts his name again in order to placate him. He doesn’t understand why Yukihira is so calm, when he has known Megumi the longest, should care about her the most. Shouldn’t he be the one beating Kurokiba to a pulp for failing to protect her from a fucking gun shot?

“Let me go!” Isami seethes out, attempting to reach for the revolver stowed away in the deep recesses of his dark coat.

“Isami.”

There’s a chill in the air he hasn’t felt since he was just a boy. Takumi’s cold voice sends everyone to a halt. Isami can feel his heart pounding behind his ears, but pauses in his movements all the same. It’s the tone his brother uses during meetings with his chiefs of staff, the one that makes sure to remind everyone just how capable the young mafiaso really is.

“Yukihira, let go of him.” Takumi’s words are leveled and firm. Yukihira glances at his hold on the younger Italian, his eyes flitting from the seething brunette to Kurokiba’s shallow breathing. He hesitates for a moment, and it’s enough for Takumi to raise his voice once more. “I said, fucking let go of my brother, Yukihira.”

Yukihira drops his hold almost immediately after, and Isami goes down with it. His legs are shaking, knees giving out on him now that the adrenaline’s slowly seeping out of his body. Deep breaths, he reminds himself, in and out, in and out.

Takumi seizes his elbow harshly, dragging him into a standing position. Isami wobbles a little on his feet and can’t help the scoff from leaving his mouth. Way to remind them all that in spite of his significant height difference from his brother, he’s still the younger one. Isami doesn’t know if the vice grip on his arm is meant to reassure him that it will be fine, he’s there to be his anchor, or to threaten him, not another word Isami, we’ll talk about this later. Knowing his brother, it’s most likely both.

Isami doesn’t struggle, but refuses to mimic Takumi’s move to bow his head towards Alice in apology. Her bright red eyes are trained on him alone and even then he refuses to even meet her head on. He understands her rage, really he does, but he can’t find it in him to actually care. Not when the sheer amount of anger he feels at the moment feels ready to burst.

“I ought to kill your brother right now, Aldini,” she seethes, stepping protectively in front of Kurokiba’s weak body.

“I assure you, proper punishment will be dealt with later.” Isami doesn’t know how Takumi manages to sound so calm. Everything feels so numb that he doesn’t even realize that Takumi has been dragging him out the room far enough that they’ve reached the guest wing where they’ve been staying.

The blonde turns on his heels and looks ready to lash out, but stops himself short. Isami knows it must be something about the way he must be at the moment that leaves Takumi looking broken and lost. They must be thinking the same thing, his fear reflected in identical cerulean orbs.

He remembers Mama.

Takumi is by his side in a heartbeat, holding him close as he muffles his shouts and sobs into Takumi’s shoulder.

He tries to tell himself it’s because the events are so familiar, that he’s afraid to lose another person the same way. Doesn’t want to think of the alternative because that means he’ll only be putting Megumi in more danger than she already is.

one.

She’s playing with Floppy and Bagel when it hits Isami like a freight train. Straight to the gut, knocking the metaphorical wind out of his system as his eyes gradually start widening in shock. There’s nothing particularly special about the day, just another ordinary walk with his dogs and the woman he almost broke a decade’s worth of an alliance for (no big deal).

Jun has already warned her (and him, by extension) that she isn’t supposed to do anything tedious yet. Megumi obviously doesn’t think too much about the shoulder wound to avoid going on walks with some of the most hyperactive dogs she knows. Isami can practically see the look of disapproval the older doctor will be sending his way when the blue haired young woman comes shuffling inside the medic bay in need of new bandages from playing with animals.

Megumi laughs again when Floppy practically hounds on the young nurse to lick sloppy kisses on her face once more that he thinks, oh. He wants to kiss her too.

“Megumi-san,” he calls out to her with no real reason other than he wants her to look his way. Alice is right, Isami thinks, he really does have it bad. He doesn’t actually know what he wants to say next, but when she does look up at him, pretty amber eyes warm and soft in the way the light dances against it—

“May I kiss you?”

He can’t help the way the words roll of his tongue so easily. Megumi pauses, eyes widening and mouth dropping open the tiniest bit in a rush of breath. Her cheeks flush the prettiest red he has ever seen and it takes Isami another moment to actually register what he has said and another, very crucial, second to think of a way to salvage their moment.

“…is, is what Bagel would say!” He immediately holds up the unassuming beagle up to Megumi’s eye level, effectively blocking his view of her adorably shy face. Fuck, he does have it very, very bad and lets out a less-than-chill chuckle as he continues his excuse. “I mean — you’ve been playing with Floppy for a while, I’m sure Bagel’s getting jealous.”

The beagle in question seems to tilt her head to the side, staring curiously at the female before reaching out to tentatively lick her nose. Megumi takes another second before slowly letting out a nervous giggle, higher pitched and essentially slower than usual. Isami’s shoulders visibly deflate in relief when Megumi takes the dog from his hands and holds her up as high as her wounded shoulder will allow her.

“Oh, Bagel,” she coos and brings Bagel closer to her face to leave a soft, small peck on the top of her head, in between her ears. The beagle lets out a ruff in response. Floppy seems to think this conversation needs to include him, because the basset hound whines and bumps his head against Megumi’s calf in order to drive attention back to him. Isami can’t help the grin forming on his face at the sight of her, a little frantic as she tries to show affection to two very demanding dogs.

It all feels so domestic, now that Isami has the guts to think about it seriously. Searching for her to treat small things, accompanying her to her room at night, walking the dogs with her on sunny afternoons. Just the simple feeling of needing to be close to her. Isami feels all the guilt and the heaviness melt away at the sight of Megumi sighing contentedly as she reaches down to scratch Floppy on the back of his ears to try to placate him. He wonders, briefly, if this might be what it would look like should he leave it all behind. He wonders what it would be like for her to run away with him and his dogs and never look back. He wonders if it would be worth it.

Megumi laughs again and smiles at him, her bright eyes crinkling at the sides, and he forgets, momentarily, who he is and where they are and how different their worlds are. Isami’s chest warms.

Yeah, she would be worth it.

“Me too,” he finally, softly says again. When Megumi turns to blink back at him, wide-eyed and innocent and just so fucking beautiful is when he loses it. He sighs and leans in to rest his forehead against hers. Megumi’s face reddens considerably at the movement, but she doesn’t move from her spot next to him. She stammers with nonsensical words and nerves, but doesn’t budge from her spot. Their lips are dangerously close, and Isami can practically taste the cherry-flavoured lip gloss she’s wearing. “I’m a little jealous of them too, Megumi-san.”

“I, uhm, Isami—”

He steals a kiss and drops all pretenses.

#shokugeki no soma #megumi tadokoro #isami aldini #isamegu #mafia cooking kids #takumi aldini #yukihira souma #alice nakiri #mentions of #soutaku #and #hisaeri #pry these ships from my cold unfeeling hands #mayu writes #i hoPE U LIKE IT MEL MWA!! GOOD LUCK ON FINALS IN A FEW!!!!

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sweetvengeancee · 7 years

Text

Secret (Alex Høgh Andersen x Reader)

Warnings : Alcohol, jealousy, feels. Word count: 2080.

A/N: I am so going to regret this. My first Alex imagine ever. I don’t really know how I feel about it so please let me know if you liked it (or not)! I’m not sure who I should tag so I’m just gonna go with @rachiieee and @ivartrash. I don’t know if I’ll write more Alex/Ivar imagines… But I hope you enjoy this one.

I’d also like to thank @bananashemmo for the translations, you’re the best!

To those who followed me for my 13rw imagines, do not fear! I’m working on a Zach one at the moment, then I’ll start a Jeff one.

Growing up you believed in love; you believed you’d meet your prince charming – a man who would sweep you off your feet; who would love and cherish you. Someone who would make you feel safe and complete; who would move mountains just to see you smile. A man who would show you off to his friends, his family, to the whole world.

You met Alex at a coffee shop in Dublin when you almost spilled your caramel latte on him, and somehow you ended up talking to him for an hour. By the end of the conversation he had asked you out and took your phone number. Only a few days later you had your first date.

Alex was a perfect gentleman that night – he picked you up at your place and brought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers. He invited you to a restaurant, and of course did not let you pay by the end of the night. He was really easy to talk to, kind and funny. And unlike all the guys you’ve dated, he did not once glance at your cleavage. You grew fond of him really quickly and after the fourth date you thought that he might be it, he might be your prince charming. You fell in love with his big blue eyes and goofy smile; with his cheerful attitude and loving personality.

But being in a relationship is hard, especially when it’s a secret.

Saying that you were unhappy would be a lie. Alex made you feel things no other man had; he loved you and he showed it… but only behind closed doors. When it was only the two of you, he’d shower you with kisses, hold your hand at any given occasion, just purely adore you with all his heart. His friends and family were aware of your relationship, but not his fans. To the public, you were only one of his good friends. I’m doing it to protect you, smukke (sweetheart). He’d say. And even though it was hard at times, you knew it was the best thing to do – you have seen what some fans are capable of when their idols get into relationships.

But after a year of being together the situation started to irritate you.

You were sitting at the bar surrounded by some of Alex’s friends, sipping on your rum and coke, when you first heard it – his laugh. It was contagious, really. It was like music to your ears. The way it sounded never failed to make you feel better, even on the worst days.

A smile crept on your face as you slowly turned around, expecting to find your boyfriend talking to his friends, moving his arms around animatedly as he always did. But the soft smile that decorated your face was soon replaced by a frown as your eyes found him. He was standing only a few feet away from you, clearly drunk. His bloodshot blue eyes and his dishevelled hair, that you had personally braided earlier, gave it all away. He was moving lazily to the beat, his head moving up and down, a wide smile plastered to his gorgeous face.

But what made your blood boil was not the state he was in, no. You’re quite used to Alex getting shit-faced with his friends. He was a party person and you accepted it, you were quite outgoing yourself. What annoyed you was the brunette standing right next to him, a bit too close to your liking.

You clenched your wrists hard to release some frustration, your knuckles turning white. Heat rose to your cheeks as your breaths became fast and shallow. You couldn’t believe him. The girl was clinging onto him, practically throwing herself at him. And he did absolutely nothing to stop her.

Your eyes were focused on the brunette as you watched her run her manicured nails up and down Alex’s arm, her lipstick covered lips only inches away from his ear. Without breaking your gaze you downed the rest of your drink, wincing at the strong taste.

The girl didn’t seem to notice you sending draggers at her or if she did, she decided to ignore it. Your heart ached as you saw her smile wickedly at your boyfriend. Her intentions were clear to you, but not so much to him.

“Hvordan går det, flotte?” (How’re you doing, handsome?) She screamed over the music even you could hear, her flirty tone made you sick to the stomach. Now, you were not fluent in Danish, but ever since your relationship with Alex became serious you decided to learn some words in his language, it came in handy. Your eyes moved to your boyfriend expectantly, waiting to see how he’ll reply. Your boyfriend turned to face her, giving her one of his famous toothy smiles. A lump formed in your throat and your brows furrowed even more as breathing became harder.

“Jeg har det godt, hvad med dig?” (Great, yourself?) The fact that he did not reject her yet and instead kept the conversation going hurt you more than you thought it would. Tears welled up in your eyes as the girl looked him up and down biting on her lower lip flirtatiously, but you swiftly brushed them away, refusing to cry right there were your friends could see.

You felt confused, hurt, betrayed. You wanted to walk up to him, drag him away from her and claim him as yours. Show her, and all the other girls that have been eyeing him since you’ve walked in, that he was yours and yours only.

You wanted to kiss him hard, leaving his lips swollen and red. You wanted to mess his hair up even more by tugging on it while you sucked hickies into his neck, marking him as yours. But you couldn’t. You agreed to keep your relationship a secret, and you knew it was better this way.

But you never expected the love of your life to act like this. You never expected Alex to hurt and to humiliate you like this. Maybe he wasn’t it, after all. Maybe he wasn’t your one and only.

So instead of running up to your lover and pulling him away from the girl, you stood up from your stool and slowly made your way towards the exit. It took you a few minutes to reach it, zigzagging between sweaty and intoxicated bodies, but you managed.

Taking one last look behind, you saw Alex still with the same girl, her small arm wrapped around his waist now. His focus seemed to be on something else, though. His eyes were wide, his brows furrowed but you didn’t think much of it as you pushed the doors open and walked out into the cold night.

Shivering at the chilly air, you wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing them up and down to create some heat. You cursed yourself for not taking a jacket like your friend told you. Taking your cell phone from your back pocket, you immediately opened the Uber app. You sighed, the closest driver was 10 minutes away from you. You picked him anyway, as you had no other choice and wanted to get back to your hotel as soon as possible.

You walked towards the corner of the club, resting your back against the cold brick wall. Surprisingly, the streets were almost empty – except for the people waiting at the entrance of the club. Only a few couples holding hands walked past you while you waited and you couldn’t help but groan and stare at one in particular, they were being extremely touchy. Deep down you knew you reacted like this because you were a bit jealous; you’ve always wanted to be able to hold and kiss Alex wherever and whenever you wanted.

Soft footsteps and a voice you’d recognise anywhere interrupted your train of thought, your head shooting up and your eyes meeting his blue ones.

“Babe?” He asked, his hand cupping your cheek cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d let him or push him away. “What are you doing here? It’s freezing.” Concern was written all over his gorgeous face and you felt guilty for worrying him, that is until you remembered what you saw in there and you took a step back, leaving the boy confused.

“Like you care.” You spat. It came out harsher than what you intended and your heart pinched at his hurt expression, but you were determined to let him know how you feel; how hurt you were. “You looked like you were having fun in there, with that girl.”

“Babe, it wasn’t-” He started explaining but you cut him right off, your voice firm.

“She was all over you!” You almost screamed, gaining the attention of the young adults waiting in line at the entrance nearby. “And you let her!”

“She was so drunk, she would have given up sooner or later. You know I’d never-” He whispered-yelled, his hands resting on your shoulders trying to calm you down. But you scoffed, cutting him off once again.

“No, I don’t.” You stated. You could see his eyes lost their sparkle and instantly filled with doubt and fear. “I don’t know, and that’s the problem.” You paused, taking a shaky breath. You kind of hoped he’d say something, but as seconds passed and he hasn’t even moved, you continued on with your little rant. “Every time we go out it’s the same – you barely talk to me, because you’re scared someone will notice, or get it on Instagram and all your fans will go nuts. Girls fawn over you and you don’t even see it, but I do. And every single time I have to watch them trying to get in your pants.”

“Y/N…” His hands cupping your face as he rested his forehead against yours. You shook your head slightly as tears welled up in your eyes. You shut them tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck loosely.

“I can’t do this anymore…” You mumbled, your throat hurting from the little crying you’ve done. “I don’t want us to be a secret anymore.”

Alex’s breath caught in his throat as the words left your mouth. Were you going to break up with him? His arms fell down to your waist, pulling you close to him. He couldn’t lose you, not you. You were his everything. His moon and his sun, his safe place. He knew you’ve only dated for a bit over a year but he saw himself growing old with you. He only wanted you, and no one else. His grip on you tightened as he embraced you, his head now resting in the crook of your neck.

“Then we won’t be a secret anymore.” He mumbled into the sensible skin of your neck leaving a few kisses there, a shiver running down your spine. You pulled away from him, cocking an eyebrow at him. Was he serious? Were you finally going to be officially together? Will you really be able to walk hand in hand with him now? Kiss him whenever you please?

Alex smiled at your confused expression, his thumbs wiping the last few tears away from your reddened and puffy cheeks. Instead of responding with words, he answered your unspoken questions by pressing his lips to yours.

You gasped before kissing him back, your fingers playing with the hair at the back of his head. The kiss was gentle and sweet, one of the best you’ve ever shared.

Cheers erupted from behind you and only then you remembered you were in a public place. Your cheeks turned crimson red as you broke the kiss, but did not pull away from your boyfriend. You giggled as you heard a few of your friends shouting and congratulating you. Alex pressed his lips to your forehead before looking down at you.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed out, his eyes never leaving yours. “Jeg elsker dig, smukke.” (I love you, sweetheart).

“I love you too.” You said, getting lost in his deep blue eyes. They were shining again and it made a warm feeling spread in your chest. You blocked away all the noise and focused on him; forgetting about your friends, and even the Uber driver who you could see getting impatient from the corner of your eye. You’ve never been happier. You had the perfect boyfriend, and you could finally show him off. He’s the one, after all.

#alex høgh andersen imagine #alex høgh andersen #Alex Høgh imagine #Alex Høgh Andersen x reader #alex høgh x reader #vikings imagine #vikings #history vikings #ivar's heathen army #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless imagine

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