#and I keep getting more and more plot bunnies biting my rear

[hopeassassin]

Condemned

This almost devolved into something it shouldn’t have. As always, like clockwork. But this is basically a song fic, so I said to myself NO. You are NOT doing this again.

So here we go.

Inspired by Florence and the Machine’s “Heavy in Your Arms”.

A re-write of the pre-Rakuzan/Touou InterHigh match AoMomo argument, reimagined and with a different twist.

Title: “Condemned” on AO3 Word Count: 6069 Summary: She lifts her head to look into his eyes with the most intense glare he has ever been the recipient of. Satsuki's magenta eyes are sparking with anger, accusation and disdain.

Although looks cannot in fact kill, a part of Daiki certainly dies when their gazes lock.

"I hate you so much that if I could only live without you, I would kill you myself, with my own hands."

Daiki learns quickly about the fact he’s taken out of the Rakuzan/Touou match line up because of Satsuki and what she’s said to coach.

Because, of course she has. 

Who else would notice what he tries to hide if not her? Who else would stick their neck out for him if not Satsuki?

He doesn’t seem to see it the same way though. He doesn’t say anything during practice when he’s told but she can see in his face that he’s livid. 

He takes his duffel bag and storms out without a word to anybody but she can feel in her bones that he has a lot to say. 

She knows better and doesn’t want to get in the middle of that before he works through it. So she stays at practice dutifully that day, despite the fact that all the other team members keep throwing her these furtive, worried looks.

Still, there’s only so long she can procrastinate the inevitable. She has to rip it off like a bandaid and she will need to confront Daiki about this. She has to at least try to make him see things the way they are—see them her way.

She finds him in his room. 

Sulking, seething. 

She almost doesn’t want to open her mouth and speak because she’s sure this will get very unsightly very fast.

Then again, she knew it from the moment he hid from the coach and acted as if he’s fine after his match with Kise when he hurt his arm. She knew he’s becoming dangerously self-destructive and that if she stands up for him, he will not appreciate it and it will blow up in her face.

But the alternative—pretending she doesn’t see, pretending, like he does, that it’s all fine—is just so much worse. 

If he ends up crippling himself because she indulges his negligence and he ends up carrying this grudge that he remained undefeated his entire life—she doesn’t think she can live it down. It’s a regret in her life she refuses to have.

Anything else he has to say and do to her - she can survive that. Some way or another. 

But not that.

Anything but that.

So she tries to explain this to him. That he is in no condition to be playing a full-out brawl against a champion candidate like Rakuzan. It will put unnecessary strain on his already damaged elbow. He needs to rest for now so he can play against them next time.

When his brows knit and his eyes narrow, she braces for the ugly argument she has seen coming from a mile away.

What she isn’t ready for is that as he lashes out, some of the things he says are that she is doing this to him to get in his way, pull his legs out from under him. That she doesn’t want to see him win, she wants him to fail so much that she will even go as far as sabotage him. All so she can have things her way.

It’s so rude of him to even think that, not to mention say it to her, because she will never do underhanded, blatantly disrespectful things like that. 

She doesn’t feel that way and she always does things properly, gives every match her all, takes every opponent seriously—although he certainly doesn’t, so how dare he try to pin his vices on her?! If he wants to project his failures onto her, he has another thing coming.

She tells him so directly, gloves off and no sugarcoating. She tells him that even though he may do that, she never will. She treats every opponent with the respect they deserve for being able to stand on the court, and she believes she can learn from every match. 

Satsuki sees the shadow that crosses his face at her accusation and she understands. She wishes she doesn’t but she is herself and he is Dai-chan, so she understands. That it hurts him to be failed again and again by spineless cowards who aren’t ready to deal with a prodigy like himself. People who don’t have his fiery tenacity, who don’t try as hard as he does, don’t put as much effort forward as he does. It’s only natural that they would get results vastly different than his, because what he invests is much different from what they do.

And she understands, but it’s pissing her off so damn much. That he’s willing to squander it all—willing to fight her over it, too—just over a single match with an opponent they will have three whole years to play against. 

Because she knows the only one Daiki actually sees as a worthy opponent in Rakuzan is Akashi-kun and Akashi-kun only. 

When he cuts her off, the argument veers off into an even more infuriating direction than it already was, because he has the gall to tell her that what she’s doing is for her own benefit and she’s being selfish. That she must have some hidden agenda to get in the way of his game and this must be bringing her some sick kind of pleasure. 

He blames her for having some kind of God complex, that she thinks she always knows better than him, than coach, than everybody, and she has a need to constantly prove it.

He tells her with utter disdain that she probably feels so almighty for having the authority to use him as her little marionette whenever she sees fit just to prove to everyone and himself just how much better than everyone she knows, just to prove herself right.

It smarts, it stings, it hurts, because every little thing she does, every single one, she does for him and to look out for him. 

She also gets that he’s pissed that everyone, every single person around them in every team he’s been in, wants to use him and abuse him for as long and as well as they can, but to blame her for doing the same?!

It’s a new low, even for him (and that’s already saying a lot). His childish anger at her stopping him from playing against Rakuzan is turning him into something she hates even more. 

She lashes out violently, hurt beyond words that he would insinuate something like that. She has given up so many things already, all for his sake, only to have him act like a damn ingrate about it.

"Well, if it's such a pain, why don't you just leave then?! Go to Tetsu, transfer to Seirin! I know you wish you did that to begin with! So just go ahead and do it now! If you need a cue or you need me to say something so you feel free, THIS IS IT! Go, Satsuki! You're free!"

"Shut the fuck up, you moron!" she yells right back at him, tears now streaming down her sides from the raw emotion clawing at her being. "I DID want to go to Seirin with Tetsu-kun, I did want to break free from this chain of unhappiness but it's too late already!"

"How is it too late? You're still alive and have free will, don't you?! So act on it and go do what you fucking want! No one is making you stay. Get lost! I don't want to see your ugly face around here anymore!"

"Well it's just too bad for you then, because I am not planning on going anywhere! I'm here to stay, whether you like it or not! Deal with it!!"

Daiki squashes violently the tiny swelling of pure joy in his chest at her words. The choice she makes even when he is provoking her in the most unbecoming way possible.

Even when he outright pushes her away, she still chooses him. 

Not Tetsu. Not anyone else. Him.

The feeling is resilient so he needs more time to stomp it out mentally than he thinks he would need.

And he has to stomp it out, otherwise his next words will never make it out of his mouth. And he isn’t letting her have the last word in this fight.

"Why?! You don't want to be here, do you? You're miserable, aren't you? Are you stupid or something? What could possibly keep you coming to keep getting hurt?! Get the fuck out of here!"

"Yes, I'm stupid! You're a moron but I'm even dumber than you are, for continuing to do this to myself! What an absolute idiot, right?!"

"Why?!" he roars back, confused and angrier than he's ever been in his life. "Why do it then? Give me one good reason why!"

"Because I love you, you fucking dumbass!"

Suddenly, he feels like he’s been speeding at a hundred miles per hour only to jump hard on the brakes and be abruptly brought to an instant halt. 

The dumbfounded “What?” dies on his lips before he can verbalize it.

The feeling from hearing her say it, from the way she says it, is like she's slapped him across the face.

It's a confession, heartfelt and earnest, despite the heatedness of their argument. 

Yet why does it feel like no blessing?

"I'm in love with you and I can't help needing to keep coming back. No matter that you keep hurting me again and again every time! It's too late already because I'm already so far gone that my own self-preservation doesn't matter. All I can think of is: how is he taking this? How can I help him? Will this make it any easier for him? Will this ease any of the burden he keeps piling up on himself? How is he feeling today? Will this make his day any better?"

"You don't need to do that!" Daiki protests vehemently, making her stomp her foot hard in response.

"I know I don't! I know it in my head, but here I am, doing it anyway! God knows you don't need to get a bigger head than you already have, and that your spoilt ass doesn't need any further spoiling, but here I am!! Doing it anyway! Caring still! No matter that you never care back at all!"

Daiki opens his mouth to rebut her but she gives him no room to say his piece, ploughing on without pause.

"I love you like it's some kind of curse, a shackle on my legs, binding me and keeping me here with you, rotting together with you in your self-made little hell! You will never say anything to keep me here but these damn feelings make fucking sure I continue hanging around your dumb self! It's a damn Stockholm syndrome I can't seem to get away from, no matter how I try!"

All of his words that he wants to fling at her die on his lips upon this last part of her tirade. 

The worst part is that she is still not done, and her words are a mad shout while the tears keep running down her face unchecked. It doesn’t even occur to Daiki that this has been the most he’s ever heard her curse in all their lives. Or that it’s clearly indicative of just how this matter has been eating at her.

"I love you more than I ever should, but I hate you so much more than that! I hate you, I hate you, I hate your fucking guts, Daiki!" 

She stomps her foot repeatedly on the floor in a desperate attempt to vent some of the stifling frustration. The tears splash down onto her hoodie and the ground, and become wet blotches.

"I hate you so fucking much that it kills me inside! I hate you more than you can imagine because the Dai-chan I fell in love with is nowhere to be found! You killed him, and gave me this twisted, fake, ugly version of him that I didn't want! He's nothing like the Dai-chan I fell in love with but I can still see him kind of there, lingering in a familiar touch, or hiding behind a familiar phrase and how fucking dare you?! How dare you kill the person I care for most and give me this fucking useless hand-me-down, washed out version of him with none of the spark he had?!" 

She is glaring hard at the floor now. Her hands are balled into fists, her knuckles white. Her arms are strained as cords and shaking violently by her sides.

"You took away my Dai-chan and replaced him with someone I hate. Now all I have left is this crushing love that is only hurting me, and this overwhelming hate for you and all you've become. I hate it, and hate you for doing it to yourself and to me."

She has stopped crying at this point, but it feels more like the calm before the storm.

She lifts her head to look into his eyes with the most intense glare he has ever been the recipient of. Satsuki's magenta eyes are sparking with anger, accusation and disdain.

Although looks cannot in fact kill, a part of Daiki certainly dies when their gazes lock.

"I hate you so much that if I could only live without you, I would kill you myself, with my own hands." 

Her angrily hissed confession makes his stomach turn. Daiki swallows heavily, spellbound as he continues holding her gaze with more courage than he actually has.

"But I can't live without you, so here I am. Touou's basketball club manager, still right next to you even though it hurts and even though I hate your guts. Because no matter how much I hate what you've become, I still believe like some fucking retard that the Dai-chan I fell in love with is still in there. Under the rotten, sarcastic, arrogant bastard you are showing to the world, he's still there and crying out for help and for someone to save him from you."

She swallows down heavily then, fixing him with a stern look that still has the previous vehemence but the murderous glint is gone. 

"I don't know that for a fact but I believe it in my heart. I believe it with all my soul. And as long as I do, there is no chance of me deserting Dai-chan alone in the prison you put him behind. I will be right here, so he knows that even if no one else cares, I still do. If no one else will understand, I will. I will be right here for who you have become, too, because although I hate you and given the chance, I might very well kill you, I don't want you to self-destruct. I think you're amazing and brilliant and truly the best and I wish this would bring you happiness instead of all the bitterness you exude with every fucking breath you take."

She's crying again, yet her gaze has softened.

"I think you're amazing and it hurts that no one understands you but they all want to use you until they no longer need you. So, contrary to them, I will be here the entire time. Without needing anything from you but your presence. I will be next to you, so no matter how lonely you feel at the top, you will never actually be alone. No one deserves that, least of all you."

There is an alluring pull in her heartbroken expression, tears falling silently down her sides as she peers into his face. His hand raises to touch her wet cheek gingerly but when she feels the caress, she slaps his hand away indignantly.

Surprise, confusion and hurt flit through his face in rapid succession at her reaction.

"Don't touch me!" she spits out venomously, her glare heated as she aims it at him. "Don't start pretending like you care just because of the things I said! Because I know you, I know you better than anyone, and I know you don't fucking give a shit about any of this so—"

Her tirade gets cut off when he pulls her into his embrace while she struggles against it with all her might. They wrestle with each other for half a minute during which he tries to take her in his hold and she fights him stubbornly, refusing to stay still so he can properly hug her against him.

He growls in aggravation when she continues resisting. Her strength is something easily overcome for someone of Daiki's build and power. But the fact he's trying to hug her and she's trying to thwart him in it makes even her meagre strength a force to be reckoned with.

To try to make her settle down, he grabs her with both hands by the sides of her face and presses his mouth upon hers. 

As far as kisses go, this is definitely not the best one because they're both too angrily huffing and pissed with each other for it to be anything other than a mashing of lips on lips.

It seems to backfire on Daiki because although he's overtaken by the mind-numbing realization of how soft and wonderful her lips feel against his, she doesn't share the sentiment. She yanks her head out of his hold in the next second and slaps him as hard as she can across the face.

She must’ve plucked up all of her strength and loaded the hit with all of her emotion as well because his head turns from the force of it.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?!" She screeches so loudly that he whimpers from her volume, and the sting in his assaulted cheek. "I told you not to touch me! What makes you think you can just kiss me like that!? You cannot, you may not!"

He rubs his cheek, miffed, before he turns to throw her accusatory look.

"You were the one saying "I love you, I love you" just a minute ago!" he barks back.

"I also said that I hate you and your stupid mug. Did you already conveniently forget that or your head is so big you never even heard that part?!"

Daiki snarls then and forgoes the care with which he always, even unconsciously, handles Satsuki with. He forgoes it and makes a sudden grab for her. He holds her by her lower hip and the side of her face with two strong arms, unimpressed with her attempts to free herself from his hold.

She opens her mouth to scream at him again when she fails to shrug him off despite her best attempts. He’s having none of that though, so he covers her mouth firmly with his own to keep her quiet.

Her vocal protests are muffled by his lips and he pushes her bodily back until her back hits the wall. Her flailing hands are caught before they can make contact with his face or torso. Her resistance is futile because this time he doesn't plan to let her go or do as she sees fit. 

(She’s said her piece—more than just her two cents in, really—and now it’s his turn.)

His left hand holds both of hers over her head against the wall, while his right holds her chin tight through his bruising kiss. Once she stops violently struggling against him and settles down into smouldering but quiet fury, he relents and pulls away from her.

He doesn't move too far back though, his intense cobalt eyes fixing hers from an intimately close distance. The proximity makes him aware of the teasing way her ample bosom is rising and falling rapidly with her ragged breathing. Her cheeks are flushed—with anger or something else, he ponders—and she is glaring evilly at him from her captive position in his hold.

Daiki throws her an equally unrelenting look full of challenge.

"I heard you well, every single word." He traces the line of her jaw with his fingertips. "I also heard you very clearly say that you love me."

His eyes dare her to refute his statement. She glares back at him but keeps her mouth shut. She's still panting.

Daiki swallows hard while looking into her eyes. 

"If you're in love with me, don't you want to hold me and kiss me?"

"No."

Her answer is instant. 

Her tone has an air of finality to it that doesn't allow for any argument. She looks so steadfast when she says so that coupled with the unexpectedness of her answer, Daiki feels flabbergasted.

"No?" he echoes incredulously.

"No," Satsuki repeats with the same iron conviction. "I don't want you touching me, or holding me, or kissing me, or anything of the sort."

"Why not?" He demands then, unyielding from holding her wrists up by his much stronger hand.

"I just don't!"

His eyes narrow at her reasoning. 

"Give me a good reason and I'll drop it," he challenges her again, his tone even. 

She considers his request for a minute before her face twists in a stubborn and angry grimace. Although she looks a bit ridiculous with her face flushed from all the emotions she's gone through in rapid succession in the past minutes and her profuse crying, he can't help himself when he thinks she’s adorable in that very moment.

"I don't have one. Just let go! You're hurting me! God knows you've already done way too much of that to be hurting me physically too!"

The way she lashes out—with words of painful truth aimed at him like daggers—makes him flinch and he almost pulls back. He almost complies with her command to unhand her but reconsiders in the last moment. 

He resolves to let her go if she answers his questions first.

"You don't have what? A good reason or any reason?"

"Stop arguing and just let me go, you brute!" she yells at him but it's not as loud as earlier. 

He's pressing her harder against the wall, sandwiching her between himself and the hard surface behind. It makes her unable to fill her lungs with enough air to scream at him as effectively as she previously has.

"Answer my question," he whispers against her mouth while pinching her chin securely between his thumb and index finger. Her eyes flash with an emotion he doesn't recognize but it's gone before he can deliberate it. "And I will let you go immediately."

He hopes she can see the promise in his eyes that he will do as he says. His only condition is simple enough, he believes. 

After all, she has already spilled her guts and her biggest secret to him, right? What could she possibly have to fear confessing any further?

Her mouth stays clamped shut. She says nothing and just stares at him from up close until her breathing calms. He waits for her and demonstrates patience she thinks him incapable of through it all. 

"Well?" He prompts at the end of the third minute of tense silence between them.

"I have nothing further to say to you," she informs him coolly. 

There’s a mask of indifference already plastered on her features.

Daiki growls in annoyance, refusing to be brushed off.

Refusing to be treated like this doesn't matter after the heavy shit she's unloaded on him earlier.

He ain't buying it and if she refuses to be civil about it, he will be as crudely provoking as needed to get the result he wants. To get the answer he wants.

Because it’s fucking important, damn it!

So instead of trying to pry it out of her with his words (which he's rather inept with to begin with), he prefers to do it with his actions. He's always been better at acting upon things than talking it out, and an emotionally charged situation like this makes it even more painfully evident.

He kisses her again, pushing into her personal space with no preamble. This time he has the chance to recognize how sweet she smells as well, not just how nice her mouth feels against his. 

She starts struggling against him, trying to break out of his kiss but with her hands captive and her chin in his unbudging hold, she has no prayer of being able to break free.

She realizes this quickly and starts trying to protest vocally but he swallows the sound with his mouth opening against hers. 

When he pulls away to look into her eyes, she's glaring heatedly at him, her lips wet and swollen from his forceful kisses.

He runs his tongue over his top lip to moisten it too while his gaze fixates on her.

"So you hate this?"

"I hate it! Knock it off!! It's not funny!"

He isn't laughing. This isn't some game to him either, although she doesn't seem to understand that.

"So you hate it…" he echoes, voice subdued.

"Yes!" she wails back at him, thrashing in his hold.

"The same way you hate me?"

"Yes!!"

She gasps after her admission even before she registers the meaningful look Daiki throws her way. She has belatedly realized just what she has affirmed and the implications behind it.

“So in other words, you both hate it and you love it, yeah?”

“No!” She is quick to refuse his statement.

Too quick.

Panicked?

Daiki smirks sadistically down at her. He’s grabbed the pulse of the heart of this matter, he believes.

“Satsuki, you really need to speak up so I can understand, okay?” He looms in her line of vision despite her adamant attempts to turn her head away from him. She can’t go through with it because his fingers are still holding her chin. “You have to give me a good reason why you hate me kissing you, especially if it’s true that you’re in love with me.”

The way he questions the truthfulness of her earlier confession is his attempt to get a rise out of her. He succeeds partially, judging from the way she throws a venomous glare his way, but her lips are still sealed shut.

He scoffs and leans in closer. 

His breath fans against her cheek and he derives a sick pleasure from seeing her squirm.

“Answer the question, or I’ll keep kissing you until you do,” he half-threatens, half-states because he’s fully planning on doing exactly that if she continues being stubborn.

Because if she thinks she can be more pig-headed than he is, she’s wrong. He’s ready and willing to show her just how wrong she is if she keeps pushing it.

And it works, because this time she whimpers and struggles even harder to turn her face away from him. He doesn’t let her but she shifts her gaze away to the furthest wall. 

“Don’t kiss me anymore. Don’t make this more complicated and painful for me than it already is.” She misses his confused look at her quiet admission because she’s still avoiding him to the best of her ability. “I already wake up every morning and go to bed every night thinking about you and the stupid shit you say and do. Don’t make my life more of a living hell by complicating my feelings further…”

She sounds so forlorn and broken that he can’t keep pressuring her anymore. His hand lets go of her wrists and they slowly fall at her sides. His other hand’s fingers release her jaw and he rests his weight against the palm he leans on the wall next to her head. She is now looking away from him in earnest, refusing to meet his eyes as she continues.

“I don’t want to know what it feels like to kiss you. I don’t want to be wondering if you mean it or if you don’t. I don’t want to be haunted with doubts whether I’m right or I’m not. I don’t want any of it, so please… just stop and leave me alone…”

Her sorrowful tone makes his heart clench in his chest but he shoves the feeling roughly away. It’s important that he communicates this somehow, or he will regret it for the rest of his life.

Especially since he’s already torn so many painful confessions from her today.

There’s a twinge of regret in the corner of his consciousness—amplified by the way she seems to try to fold in on herself before his very eyes. He soothes it by caressing the crown of her head like he’s petting something fragile and infinitely precious. He caresses her tenderly, willing some of the discomfort and pain away from her being, if he can, by the simple action alone.

“Satsuki,” he starts quietly, his tone calm and kind. “It’s true that you do know me very well—there are many days when I’m sure you probably know me better than I know myself. And in many ways, that could be true. But there are still some things about me that you don’t know and because you don’t, you misunderstand.”

The way she skittishly starts to lift her magenta gaze to lock with his is heart wrenching to watch but he leaves her to do as she pleases while still petting her head adoringly.

“I don’t blame you. If I were you, I’d probably misunderstand, too, because my timing was terrible and I act before I think as always. But I really don’t want you thinking that I’m kissing you just to shut you up or something dumb like that. Because that’s just my excuse and not my reason why.”

Her eyes are widening and her breathing has hitched in her throat already. Her lips are parting—in surprise or horror, it’s hard to tell—and he cannot continue to study her reaction any further. His heart is racing in his chest. 

He’s nervous and his body is reacting to the feeling more violently because of their earlier verbal standoff. It feels like his blood vessels will burst from the sheer volume and strength with which his heart is pumping.

“This isn’t a joke nor a game to me either. It’s insulting that—knowing me as well as you do—you would think so.” He takes a deep breath because suddenly the air has vacated his lungs and he feels like he’s drowning in white noise. “These important things about me you don’t know—I’ll tell you the most important of them right now: I would never kiss you to prank you or just to win a stupid argument.” 

He admires her courage in being able to say it to his face but he doesn’t have it himself. 

So Daiki leans forward until his lips are aligned with her ear, and his face is twisted out of her sight.

“Because I like you, too. I’ve been in love with you for a long, long time.”

He whispers it like it’s a secret and condemns Satsuki with a heavy heart.

It is his most well-kept secret because she’s been convinced that he doesn’t care, that she’s wrong, he’s just an arrogant, unfeeling asshole and her Dai-chan is gone forever. Her unrequited pining is pointless, but will eventually—maybe, with time—fall into the background of her inner world and she will be able to finally, finally, move on to something, someone, else. 

Less painful, less complicated, less dramatic.

Satsuki knows breaking free from the shackles that are her feelings for him is but a pipe dream now, with his last little confession to her.

There’s no way in any world she will be able to move on to anything—or anybody—else, knowing her feelings are not one-sided.

Knowing that he does things with intention. Knowing that he does care and is just… terrible at showing it. 

Daiki’s intermittent warm breath at her earlobe draws her attention to the present time and moment from her reverie. She swallows heavily, her gaze rising to the ceiling of his room. She kicks herself mentally, over and over, for relishing the feeling of having him so close and the knowledge that he’s in love with her, too.

Oh, God, no… she thinks to herself and the tears well in her eyes anew. Love is supposed to be something that makes you happy, brings you joy, but she’s never had any joy in her love. 

It’s always been her silly secret, a temporary crush. Then it became a complicated matter, not to breathe a word of to anybody. Then it evolved into something painful, until it turned just outright excruciating. It has been a downward spiral and her heart is so heavy, realizing that it’s only going to continue further from there on.

And it will likely only get worse, a downhill steep slope. 

Because she can’t be the one to save him. She can’t be the one to heal him. He’s the one damaging himself but he needs someone from outside to help him out. It kills her that this person cannot be her, even though she’s right there, always there for him, always. 

Her tears start running down her sides. When his thumb brushes them away from her cheeks with the most gentle touch she’s ever received from him, a violent sob tears from her throat.

“I really, really hate you, Daiki,” she tells him through her clenched teeth. 

He pulls away from her to give her a slanted smile that gives his gaze a kind glint.

She doesn’t use the childhood nickname she has for him anymore—at first by trying to distance herself from him in school by calling him “Aomine-kun” anywhere their classmates can hear her, but calling him Dai-chan in private. 

Ever since he starts changing for the worse, she stops calling him that even if it’s just the two of them. 

She uses no address to turn to him—other than derogatives like “idiot”, “dumbass” or “moron” but those don’t count. If she has something to say to him, she just establishes visual contact with him first then says what she wants, if they’re in private. Maybe she thinks he doesn’t notice and he’s dense—and he is, generally speaking. But when it comes to her and the way she treats him, Daiki notices things. 

And it just hurts, to lose something that has been a given for him, so suddenly and so completely, with no ado and no warning.

He’s no longer Dai-chan, he’s not Daiki, he’s no longer anything to her and it hurts. 

So at least when they are among others, he takes the “Aomine-kun” in stride because at least, at least then, she acknowledges his existence and turns to him by name.

For the past two years, he has almost never, ever been “Daiki” to her. She called him that earlier in the height of their fight and he didn’t have the chance to appreciate it but he does notice it. Like he notices every single little thing about her.

Hearing his name from her—despite the venomous claim it’s accompanied by—sends a shiver down his spine that he rather relishes.

The next kiss he initiates is a loud echo of his secret he’s shared with her, because it’s so much sweeter than any of the previous ones they exchanged throughout their mulishly stubborn argument. 

It’s a repeat of the “I love you, Satsuki” that he’s too himself to vocalize more than once in his life. She hears it, loud and clear, in the gentle press of his lips against hers, in the tender touch of his tongue on hers.

It rends her heart asunder because she’s already in the palm of his hand, even without him saying or doing anything. Now she will never be able to escape him, but worse still - she will never even try anymore.

Whether that’s a good or bad thing, Satsuki still doesn’t know. 

What she does know is that she is a heavy heart to carry and her beloved will be weighed down by it—although, admittedly, he has only himself to thank for that. 

He’s condemned them both to suffering and licking at each other’s wounds for the time being, but it’s a sweet kind of torture that she is willing to submit herself to despite her sanity being in jeopardy over it.

That’s perfectly fine for him, though.

She will learn in due time that even outside of the court, Daiki is strong enough to stand, with both his heart and hers in hand. 

He will patiently, diligently, teach her that when he holds her in his arms, he will never let her down and her heavy feet will never touch the ground.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A/N: Did you find all the lyrics references I sprinkled throughout the story for all the parts of the song that inspired this piece?( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I struggled for quite a while with setting up the whole thing in the beginning BEFORE the start of their argument, and also finishing the damn thing. I struggled and struggled and then turned to the actual song on the next day again and, what would you know, I’m actually kinda proud of this now.

Gonna cross-post this everywhere so you can FEEL ME BEING BACK.

This has been yours truly, showing you how she believes song fics should best be done. Hope you enjoyed.

100 Situations, Table One; 032: Torn.

9th October, 2020.

#AoMomo #Aomine Daiki #Kuroko no Basuke #Momoi Satsuki #fanfic #fanfiction #my scribbles #this is a songfic I swear #I built a story around the main argument you see in the speaking brackets #then I thought If I am ever to finish the 100 Situations challenge this needs to be in it #so here we go #100 Situations #Kuroko's Basketball #The Basketball Kuroko Plays #I have too many ideas #my muse is a forsaken creature #and I keep getting more and more plot bunnies biting my rear #hopefully you enjoyed at least #this is pointless but I wanted to nod at a favorite band #and a favorite pairing #otp #I will go down with this ship I swear

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Little Things in Life - 2

Warnings: cheating, non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Summary: Your suburban life begins to show cracks and your next door neighbour, Steve Rogers, seems intent on shattering what’s left.

Note: Chapter 2! So I’m in between too many things. I always appreciate your guys’ patience and reading. You know how it be; I’m a mess. Thanks to everyone for their feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Based on this drabble

On Wednesday, you spent the morning working in your office with one eye on Kayla. You’d be relieved in the fall when she could go to school and you could focus a little better. Well, you’d see which you felt when the time came.

You had lunch in the backyard at her plastic picnic set and played on the slide. You checked the time as you went inside and a knock sounded at the door. Kayla followed you as you answered it. Steve greeted you with a cool smile.

“Sharon just went off to see her mother,” He said. “So I figured, we can sneak out now and grab the flowers.”

“Uh, yeah,” You waved him in as you turned to Kayla. “You wanna go for a car ride?”

“I want ice cream,” She clapped her hands. 

“You want ice cream?” You asked as you knelt to fix the strap on her shoes which had twisted. “Well, if you’re good in the car, we’’ll take you by the shop. How about that?”

“I hate looking at flowers,” She crossed her arms. “They bite.”

“Only if you touch the cactuses,” You chided as you stood and grabbed your car keys from the hook and the old leather purse that sat on the low bench. “You don’t mind if I drive? Her seat’s a bit of a hassle to move around.”

“Nope,” Steve kept his foot in the door as the sunlight slatted down his tall figure. “We should have a couple of hours to beat Sharon. I really think it’ll be a nice surprise for the weekend.”

“This weekend?” You wondered. “I don’t know. We’d till have to plant everything.”

“I could toss in another bottle of wine for your trouble.” He offered.

You shook your head. He’d sent you home with what was left of the Pinot on Monday and it still sat in your fridge. Beckoning to you as you laid next to an empty space. Or worse, an indifferent Logan. His work consumed him and he often spent hours poring over it or even rushed out to appease his demanding boss. Well, you had your Saturdays and those were always nice.

“It’s fine. I’m not much of a drinker.” You said. “The helmet.”

“The helmet?” He tilted his head. 

“Selfie,” You pointed your keys at him as you took Kayla’s hand. “For the extra effort.”

He shrugged as he opened the door.

“Fine,” He said. “So, you and Logan coming to the party?”

“I know I am,” You locked the door behind you. “We’ll see if Logan can keep off his phone for more than twenty minutes.” 

You led Kayla to the car and Steve stood just behind you as you helped her in and strapped her into the seat. You closed the door and turned back.

“Yeah, he’s definitely been a bit… absent,” Steve commented as he went around to the passenger side. “You know, the last time he came over to watch the game, I changed it to the Orioles and he didn’t even notice.”

“It’s work,” You climbed into the car as he mirrored you. “I can’t say I don’t do the same. I’m cutting crusts off sandwiches and plotting my next lesson.”

“Multitasking,” Steve mused as he closed the door. “But I’m sure the sandwiches are still great.”

You turned the engine and looked at Kayla in the mirror. She kicked her feet impatiently in her seat as she hummed.

“There’s a little leapfrog toy in the glove compartment,” You said to Steve as you backed up. “You wanna get it for her… she’ll start singing soon if you don’t.”

🏠

Kayla chose some daisies for your front garden as you showed Steve the pansies. They were small and simple. You mixed in some freesias and some heather, too. Steve picked out a new set of garden tools to give to Sharon as well and a pair of cute floral gloves. 

You paused as you checked out and glanced over at your neighbour. You couldn’t recall the last time Logan had done more than grabbed a pizza on his way home. And he always forgot that you couldn’t stomach pepperoni. Oh well, you supposed it was the gesture that counted.

You carefully loaded the tray of plastic pots into your trunk as Kayla demanded her scoop. She had behaved quite well. Steve picked her up as you crossed the street and headed for the parlor at the opposite corner. You neared a cafe only a few doors away and Steve pointed to the painted moniker on the glass. 

“You know I heard that place is good. The coffee is from--” You stopped short and Steve turned to face you. “What’s up?”

You backed up and glanced at the license plate of the black Volkswagen. The same scratch on the bumper, the same numbers. You blinked and pulled out your phone. No messages. You looked to Steve.

“That’s Logan’s car but why…” Your voice trailed off and you neared the cafe window. 

You peered in and searched the tables. Your husband’s dark hair was visible just towards the corner of the shop. You recognised the woman beside him. Karina, his boss. Her ginger curls were drawn back into a large bun and she turned to giggle at Logan. You could see his hand on her thigh as she stole a bite from his muffin. Your heart stopped.

“Come on, let’s just…” You blinked at Steve and his eyes were aimed through the window as Kayla tugged at his tee and whined for ice cream. “Let’s go. I could go for some mint chip.”

Steve hesitated before he turned back, careful to keep Kayla away from the cafe as you passed it. 

“Mint chip? Boring.” He taunted after a moment. “What about you Kayla? You like cotton candy ice cream?”

“No, I want strawberry!” She chimed.

“Strawberry?” He reached for the door with his free hand and pulled it open. “Bleh! I’d rather a plain and very boring vanilla.”

“I like strawberry!” Kayla argued.

“How about black cherry?” Steve followed you inside. “You old lady.”

“I’m not old. I’m only four.” Kayla huffed. “You’re old!”

“I am,” He chuckled as he neared the counter. 

There was only one customer ahead of you as you perused the flavours. You barely read the signs for each bucket as your head was a blur of indiscernible voices and lights. You could only see Logan and his hand in Karina’s lap. Was this why he was so obsessed with work? ‘Work?’

“Mint chip?” Steve nudged you out of your trance as the aproned server looked at you over the glass. “One or two scoops?”

“Um, actually I’ll get a scoop of the butterscotch. In a cup, please.” You found it hard to speak. 

You approached the til and Steve insisted on paying. You sat against the wall and poked at your ice cream as Kayla made a mess with her cone. You did your best to keep her tidy with a napkin but she dripped enough down her shirt to drown the unicorn on its front. You reprimanded her as she refused to finish the last of the dry cone and you cleaned up the table with Steve’s help.

You crossed the street so that you didn’t pass the cafe again. You peeked over and Logan’s car was still there. You got Kayla into her seat and searched around for her tablet. You took out the headphones with bunny ears you had gotten her for her birthday.

“You wanna listen to some Wiggles?” You asked.

“Yeah,” She pulled them on and you unlocked the small tablet and put on the music player. 

You handed her it and she brought up the frog game she liked to play. You ruffled her hair before you backed out and dropped into the driver’s seat. You glanced at Kayla before you pulled out. Steve was silent beside you.

“You didn’t seem very surprised... you knew?” You asked quietly. His lack of answer was telling. “Did you do this on purpose? Did you know they would be there?”

“No, I… I didn’t know they’d be there,” He said.

“But you knew… about her?” You gripped the wheel tightly.

“He told me about someone else but… he said it was a one time thing. A slip up.” Steve admitted.

“One time,” You scoffed angrily. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry.” He said softly.

“For what? You’re not my husband,” You steamed. “Unless, you’ve been helping him sneak around but I highly doubt you have the time for that when you have a newborn at home. Oh but if she’s older, it’s fine. You can get away with it, you can--”

You took a breath and hissed. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t--” You growled and hit the steering wheel. “It’s not your fault. I just… I’m so embarrassed. And you knew. You knew!”

“I thought of telling you, I just didn’t know how,” Steve said. “And if I had known they were going to be there, I wouldn’t-- Well, I’d still be a coward.”

“It’s really not your problem. Not your marriage.” You leaned closer to the windshield as you focused on the road. “Can we… can we plant the flowers tomorrow? I gotta get Kayla cleaned up and I have dishes in the sink…”

“Sure, sure,” He said. “That’s fine. I get it.”

“Does Sharon know?” You croaked.

“No.”

“Please, don’t tell her.” You gulped and glanced in the rear view as Kayla tapped the tablet. “I couldn’t-- I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Are you going to… confront him?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” You muttered. “I don’t know if I can. I…” You looked over at him as you stopped for the sign. “Really, don’t worry about it. Please.”

🏠

You barely said a word to Logan that night. You couldn’t find any and besides you hadn’t much of a chance as your husband was just as late as ever. And when he’d finally come to bed, you waited for him to snore before you crept out.

You snatched his phone and retreated to the hallway. You sat just outside your bedroom door as you scrolled through the messages; the pictures. How had you not suspected a thing? How had you trusted him so completely?

You told yourself that time had worn on the marriage. Your sex life was strained but it would even out again. And the communication, that just needed a good talk and you would find time for that one day. But… you were wrong. It was a shell.

Your eyes teared up as you thought of Steve. He and Sharon were so perfect. They had it all. Everything you pretended to have. And he still cared for her. He wanted to make her a garden of her own. Wanted to do something for her as she spent her days taking care of their child. All you ever got was heartburn.

You took Kayla to daycare the next morning so that you didn’t have to be there to see Logan off. You drove back slowly and found yourself on that same street. You parked and strode down to the cafe. Inside, it smelled of beans and cinnamon. You ordered a latte to go and half-dozen cookies.

Your car was filled with the scent of caramel and you pulled up to your house with dread knotted in your stomach. Could you get past this? For Kayla? You opened the car door and turned to hang your legs out. You held the box of cookies on your lap and inhaled the aroma that floated from the sweet latte. You couldn’t go inside. You couldn’t face the empty house.

“Hey,” Steve frightened you as he jogged up your drive. He wore his track shorts and a tee. He glistened from his morning run. “You okay?”

You nodded and forced yourself to stand. You elbowed the door shut and set your latte on the roof of your car as you locked it.

“Cookie?” You offered the box.

“No, no, it’s a bit… early.”

“Sharon home?” You asked. “Awake?”

“She is.” He said. “I was just on my way to relieve her. My shift starts soon.”

“Oh,” You took the latte and he eyed the logo on the cup.

“Where’s Kayla?”

“Daycare,” You answered. “I thought it would be better but… it’s just lonely.”

“Come over,” He said. “Come see Sharon and the baby.”

“No, I couldn’t--”

“She’d appreciate the company,” He urged. “The adult company. I think the baby talk is driving her crazy.”

You looked across the street and then back to your house. 

“Alright.” You relented. “Thanks.”

“And if we end up hitting the felt…” He kidded.

“Sure,” You rolled your eyes and followed him down the drive.

🏠

Sharon looked immaculate. She had a four month old baby in her arms and glowed like the Madonna. She greeted you with a warm smile as Steve pecked her cheek and then Sarah’s head. You slipped out of your shoes and followed her into the living room. As you sat on the sofa and set down your coffee and cookies, she handed you the baby and offered you breakfast.

You lied to her and told her you had already eaten. You looked down at the child; blond, blue-eyed, beautiful. Steve neared you as Sharon retreated to the kitchen and the sound of the blender came muffled from the doorway. You glanced up at Steve.

“You want her?” You offered.

“She likes you,” He sat next to you and waved away the offer. “She can’t stop looking at you.”

You looked down and the blue eyes shone up at you. You smiled and rocked Sarah as you leaned back against the cushion.

“I guess it’s a bit of a moot question now, but you ever thought of having another?” Steve asked.

“You always think about it.” You said. “But often think better of it.”

You looked over at him as the noise of the blender died. His eyes were much like those gazing up at you. Bright, intent. You felt almost shy as he watched you. You tore your attention from him and brought Sarah closer to your chest as she reached up with her small fingers. You cooed at her and touched her cheek.

“Here,” Sharon handed Steve a green smoothie and sat with her own. “You didn’t bring Kayla?”

“She’s at the daycare.” You explained. “She missed her friends.”

“She’s such a sweetheart,” Sharon said and her eyes drifted down to Sarah. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen ours so calm.”

“You will. I found it came in phases. Sometimes it’s non-stop, sometimes their angelic.” You mused. 

Your stomach clenched as you thought of Kayla when she was that small; as you wondered how it had become all so twisted. Was it the kid? Was it you? You blinked away the dampness in your eyes and turned to hand Steve the baby. He took her and you reached for your latte. The caffeine wouldn’t help your nerves but the momentary warmth would soothe you.

🏠

On Friday, Sharon had a hair appointment so Steve came over to interrupt your paperwork. You brought Kayla with you as he set Sarah up in her plastic seat on the lawn. 

He helped carry the flowers over from your garage and you set to the task of weeding and digging out spots for the new buds. You had a short time to get it done before Sharon returned.

Kayla liked Sarah. She showed her the flowers and the new doll she’d gotten from your mother. You knelt beside Steve as he took your direction and you found yourself reaching over each other, distracted only as you kept the children entertained between unpotting the plants.

There was a tension lingering. Words unsaid. You caught Steve’s glances and the pity in his tone. You dusted off your jeans and stood as you stepped back to admire your work. He watched you then and you felt like snarling at him. You could see his sympathy and it sickened you.

“Amazing,” He rose and came to stand beside you. “She’ll love it.”

“I’m sure she will,” You said. 

You bent and started to stack the empty plastic planters. You piled them all into the tray and gathered up your little set of tools. 

“Me and Kayla should go, it’s close to nap time and--”

“I’m not tired,” Kayla said. You looked at her sharply.

“Please, why don’t you come in and… have some lemonade before you go?” Steve said. “Just a little while.”

“I don’t know. Sharon will be--”

“Sharon always gets her nails done when she gets her highlights,” Steve assured you. “Besides, she’s not dumb enough to think I did all this by myself.”

“I like lemonade,” Kayla said and tugged on your belt loop. “Only pink.”

“Pink…” He bit his lip. “You know, I think I might have some.”

“Fine, I’ll go put this stuff away,” You said.

“I’ll get the kids inside.” He lifted Sarah from her chair and offered his hand to Kayla. “I think it’s good for Sarah to socialize.”

You nodded and quickly retreated across the street. You shoved everything in the shed and stopped as you went to replace the latch. Had it all been pity? Had Steve discovered Logan’s secret and decided to start bugging you out his own guilt? It felt entirely mocking. Worse, humiliating.

He shouldn’t be worrying about you. You snapped the locked close through the loop and spun the dial. He had a wife and kid. He needed to worry about them. Not you and your denial of your splintering marriage. You crossed the street and kicked the dirt off your boots before you entered. You unlaced them and found Kayla in the living room.

She sat in front of the TV as Sarah was sprawled out in a playpen. You checked on your daughter then followed the subtle noises of activity to the kitchen. You entered as Steve tore the top off a frozen lemonade mix. It was pink like he promised. 

“I could add some vodka to yours,” He offered as he squeezed it out into a pitcher. 

“Look, Steve,” You neared the other side of the island. “You don’t have to atone for what Logan is doing.”

“What?” His eye lashes flicked up as he looked at you. “You don’t think-- You know, we’re friends, right? You and me? This has nothing to do with Logan.”

“Oh no?” You challenged. “I’m not that great at pool and I hate baseball.”

“Is that all I am? A felt table and ESPN?” He asked.

“No, but, come on,” You sighed. “I don’t want to be your pity project.”

“You’re not,” He said as he added water to the pitcher. “That would be Bucky.”

You couldn’t help the snort. He returned to the island and began to whisk the mixture.

“And to be honest, it’s been a tough couple months. Pent up in here with a crying baby. I’m sure you know how it is. Talking to people who can actually answer me with more than a spit bubble is like a breath of fresh air.” 

He smirked and went to grab glasses from the cupboard. He poured each and pushed one across to you as he took the other two.

“And you already said you’d come to the party so don’t even think of backing out now,” He passed you as he went to the door. “Sharon’s looking forward to it.”

#Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #the little things in life #au #fic #series #suburban au #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america

[arielsojourner]

Still wanting to marry this fic Part 5

Just like Geralt I have no fucking idea what I am doing and where I am going and what I’m going to write/say when I finally get Geralt and Jaskier meeting face to face. This just came out of nowhere. I wasn’t even planning this scene and even if I was it wasn’t going to be like this but this is what I ended up writing. What the fuck? All I can say is that this is the power of @nemainofthewater ‘s incredible writing. I’m COMPELLED to write a story I never planned to write at all! 

So this is part 5 of a future where dragon!Jaskier attends a music festival and causes a riot. You can read @nemainofthewater‘s Shining Universe/dragon!Jaskier fic  here https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562836?view_full_work=true  and you can find prior parts and other unconnected plot bunnies where Jaskier is a dragon on my Tumblr under the tag #dragon!jaskier.

*

It had taken hours. The sun had set. The moon was just starting to rise. Borch had fucked off to the inside of his cave without so much as a word! But Geralt had made it to the top. He dragged himself over the edge and collapsed face down at the cave entrance. He decided he wasn’t going to move for a while.

Some indeterminable amount of time later something nudged him, hard, in the side. He groaned and batted it away, whatever it was.

It didn’t go away. It rammed into his side again and again.

“Get off!” he groaned.

Whatever it was scuttled away. He hoped it stayed away.

It didn’t. It came back at ramming speed straight at his head complete with what felt like HORNS!

“OW! Fuuuuu–” He cut himself off and raised his head and came nose to nose with a fierce set of blue eyes.

He knew those eyes.

“Jaskier?” he whispered.  Geralt wondered if he was dreaming. Ciri had said that Jaskier had flown away with a dragon not that he’d BECOME a dragon! But Geralt knew those eyes. He could smell Jasier’s familiar floral moisturizers and bath salt scents and the faintest familiar hint of brimstone all over the golden creature. Somehow, and he didn’t know how, Jaskier had been turned into a DRAGON.

Gods, only Jaskier. This could only have happened to the bard!

The tiny dragon who was once his friend seemed to scowl and then took a deep breath and open his mouth, a red glow visible. Geralt swallowed a curse and rolled out of the way from the ball of fire that came shooting at him.

“Jaskier!” he yelled, barely dodging further dragon fire that seemed intent on causing his death by immolation. “What the – How did– Why are you a –” Dragon Jaskier didn’t answer. Dragon Jaskier didn’t stop. He may have been as small as a cat but he didn’t stop. Fire streamed out of his mouth as he went after the the Witcher.  “Stop! Stop with the fire! Jaskier! It’s me!”

Jaskier went for his ankles and knees. Geralt found that his boots were no match for those savage talons and had a horrible thought.

What if Jaskier couldn’t understand human speech?

What if Jaskier didn’t remember him?

What if he was now more beast than man?

What if was still Jaskier and he was angry at Geralt?

Geralt didn’t know which possibility was worse!  He managed to get to his feet but the attacking dragon was trying to push him back over the ledge!

Ciri had said Jaskier wanted him to be happy! This didn’t seem very happy!

“Jaskier, would you just--! Stop!”

Jaskier hissed at him.

Geralt was beginning to lose his temper. “Look, I came up here to say I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry!”

Jaskier ceased tearing at his boots and began climbing up his pant legs.  He suddenly remembered that time he’d told the court at Cintra that Jasier was a eunuch. Risking burns, he tried to grab the dragon, scruffing him as best he could. The dragon growled, twisting and trying to bite his hand. He gave him a hard shake and raised him to eye level.

“Enough! I’m here to apologize, to get Ciri off my back, and if this is the way you–”

There was a sudden, much deeper growl from the depths of the cave. A light appeared in the maw of a much, much larger dragon.

Borch.

He’d forgotten about Borch.

He’d forgotten Borch had taken a dragon’s egg to rear and raise as his own.

He’d forgotten that Ciri had said Jaskier had a baby sister with him at the festival.

He looked at the dragon he had gripped tight in his hand and realized that despite the blue eyes and all too familiar scent that he was a she and she was not Jaskier.

What was he thinking? Jaskier wasn’t a dragon!

Biting his tongue, he slowly, carefully lowered his arm and released the baby dragon onto the ground. She scuttled over to Borch, climbing his forearm to curl up on his neck, her bright eyes glinting with reflected dragonfire as she smugly glared at the Witcher.

The growls didn’t stop but the glow of dragonfire abated once the baby dragon was with Borch. “So this is how you behave! This is how you would talk to Julian! And here we have the real reason you came. Not for him. Not really.”

Gritting his teeth in sheer frustration at how he’d fucked up, Geralt raised his hands in surrender. “I-I didn’t realize . . . I thought– It was not my intent to harm your child. I did come to apologize to Jaskier. It’s just– she was breathing fire and going to bite–”

“Enough. I’ve heard enough. Apology or no, this one-time, one-sided friendship  has caused more harm than good. It is over. It is done with. Be gone, Geralt of Rivia. Do not return.”

Damn it, this was like Yennifer all over again! No matter what he did, he kept making a complete mess out of things! A part of him wanted to pack it in, go back down the cliff and tell Ciri he hadn’t found the dragon’s lair.

But she’d know he was lying. And Yennifer, who’d deigned to keep an eye on Ciri while he looked for Borch, would know he was lying. And even if by some miracle he’d managed to fool them both, he would know he was lying. 

And Jaskier would never know he was sorry and that he missed him.

Well, this time he wasn’t going to let his temper ruin things beyond all hope of repair. He was going to fix this.

He lowered his head, hands still raised and said “No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“I said go! Leave!”

“No.”

Borch rushed towards him. Geralt held his breath and held his ground. The dragon stopped inches from him, his muzzle lowered so he could glare at the Witcher.

“I will throw you from this ledge if I must.”

“If you must,” Geralt echoed and then raised his head to stare into the dragon’s eyes, willing Borch to see the determination burning in them. “But I will survive the fall and I will climb the cliff again.”

“To get the Princess of Cintra off your back?” Borch said scornfully.

“To talk to Jaskier. To . . . apologize to Jaskier. I am . . . ashamed of what I said on the mountain. It was . . . unjust and cruel. He was . . . I-I hurt him just because I was hurting.”

Borch huffed. Geralt took it as a sign to continue and tried to find the words to explain.

“I have a note from Ciri. I said I would deliver it to Jaskier since she couldn’t come with me. She wanted to apologize as well.” His hands went to reach under his armor for the parchment folded carefully and tucked safely away. “She insisted.” He paused and then added. “I didn’t mean to harm your child. My apologies for invading your home. Just . . . let me talk to Jaskier and deliver the note and I’ll leave.”

Borch simply stared at him.

Geralt searched for something, anything else to say. He struggled for some other words but only one came to mind and he hoped it would be enough.

“Please.”

#dragon!jaskier #witcher #jaskier #geralt #borch three jackdaws

[softbiker]

Steve Rogers Oneshot

Warnings: some strong language, mention of super soldier butts

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Steve Rogers takes a coffee break. It’s good to try new things.

A/N: This is a continuation of Extra Whip - so I recommend reading that first in order to be familiar with who the reader is! It takes place in the same universe as @kentuckybarnes​ Agent 28 and @nacho-bucky​ Agent 41, with permission from both :) At the moment, my plan for these two is a series of one shots; connected by characters and certain events, but not a strong overarching plot. Let’s keep it fun okay? (Can’t believe I’m posting this before I’ve had my coffee but hey, I’m excited). Enjoy! 

A month goes by.

In missions, gunpowder grit beneath his fingernails; in Stark Foundation fundraisers, his bowtie digging too tight at his neck; in karaoke nights - and avoiding karaoke nights, sneaking up to the roof with Bucky for a smoke. Somehow the habit crept back in, between the two of them.  Deeper than muscle, it’s a bone memory - shoulders pressed together on a fire escape, nostalgic for nicotine and other things that won’t roll into cigarette papers. No one knows about their little habit, except for maybe Nat - who cares less about their upstanding reputations than everyone else, and she’ll even share a pack every once in a while. Steve marvels at cigarettes now, the way he marvels at everything that should’ve killed him before he became a miracle. 

So February passes. He eases up on Health Food Reform, satisfied that the good habits seem to mostly stick. 41 continues to slurp on her spinach milkshakes during briefings, and it brings out his big brother smile every time. Every time he wonders who might have made it for her. 

March blusters in with excessive force, with the wind whipping storms on every front and a crisis on every continent. For the first two weeks of the month, Steve doesn’t set foot at the compound, shuffling between safe houses and sleeping on the quinjet, his neck aching in complaint. The team forgoes their long-anticipated weekend retreat to Tony’s cabin in Aspen in favor of a terror attack in Johannesburg. 

“Man, I was not made for this kind of heat,” Sam mutters, tugging at the harnesses of his uniform as sweat streams down his neck and into his shirt. 

“You would’ve been in the hot tub in Aspen, anyway,” Clint teases, taking stock of his quiver, his words slurred by the bubblegum in his mouth.

“Yeah, with a couple of snow bunnies, that’s for damn sure,” Sam bites back, shoving his goggles into a side pocket on his tac pants. 

“Focus, Sam,” Steve sighs over the comm. He’s got eyes on them - opposite rooftop, approximately 100 feet above the epicenter of the chaos. “The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner you can sit in a jacuzzi with your rabbits.” 

Tony’s laughter over the comm line is so loud, Nat has to remove her earpiece for a full minute. 

“What?” Steve turns to Nat, bewildered. She’s got a white streak of dust in her hair. “What? What did I say?” 

She just shakes her head, taming the curl of her lips with a click of her tongue.

“Nobody tell him,” Tony insists, his voice still a wheeze. “Jesus, I am gonna hold onto that for weeks. That’s going in the digital scrapbook - F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Already saved the audio file, boss.”

Steve just hangs his head, resigned. No chance of living that one down. 

Hours later, they pile into the quinjet in beleaguered pairs, Clint propped on Sam’s arm, 28 with Natasha - both dusty and bruised but no major injuries, followed by Wanda and 41, with Tony bringing up the rear. Steve takes stock with a keen gaze as they trudge up the ramp into the jet, Buck slouched in the seat beside him, his flesh fingers blackened with gunpowder. More than 10 hours on the ground, with thousands of safe civilian lives to show for it - but no arrests had been made, no suspects found, no bad guys to put away. Not today. A stalemate, which Steve hates. He loathes the ambiguity, the loose ends of this job, the way the world can just never stay safe. 

A knee jostles against his own, and he looks over at Bucky; he’s got one eye cracked open, narrow window on a sky blue gaze peering back at Steve. 

“You good, Rogers?” he mutters, lazily rolling his jaw. 

“Me? Yeah, Buck, I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. Well quit grindin’ your teeth like that.” Bucky sighs and lets his eyes slip closed again. “The one thing your ma never had to fix, those damn perfect teeth.”

It draws a dull, tired smile, just like he intended, and Steve elbows Bucky in the ribs - the two of them exchanging a couple of tired blows, before settling into their seats, pressed against each other shoulder to knee, like they’re still trying to fit in a foxhole. Steve takes a little of Bucky’s weight as he leans over to let 28 pass them and settle into a seat across the aisle, buckling herself in and sending a tired smile their way. 

He accepts a Starkpad from Tony as he passes by on his way to the cockpit. A swipe of the screen reveals a face - a white man, late 40’s, dark hair with white streaks at the front. Nothing noticeable about him otherwise. Beneath the face is a name: Israel Hayes. He stands and stalks his way up the aisle of the jet, careful not to disturb any of his sleeping teammates as he follows Tony. The Iron Man suit dissolving back into the nanite housing unit on his chest, Tony is left only in a soft black shirt and pants - he looks vulnerable, small, when Steve leans into the cockpit, his shoulders crowding the space. 

“This our guy?”

“Seems like it. F.R.I.D.A.Y. cross-referenced his known aliases with similar activities in Europe and Asia - but he’s good. Never shown his face good.”

“Not even on CCTV?” Steve quirks a brow.

Tony shakes his head, lips pursed. “Nope. My guess? He’s got some kind of algorithm like the one SHIELD instituted for our agents in the backseat. You know how we never know what a SHIELD agent looks like?” He gestures towards the passengers with his thumb and Steve nods. “Same thing. As soon as his face is captured on a camera, his server finds it and scrubs it clean.”

“That possible? For someone who’s not SHIELD?”

“If he’s got the connections it seems like he has? Then yeah.” Tony huffs out a breath. “Not that I’m worried - F.R.I.D.A.Y. has found smaller needles in bigger haystacks.” 

Steve just nods, staring at the man’s picture on the tablet in his hands. 

He stares at that tablet for days - at briefings, at the picture, at news headlines, at the picture, at a Buzzfeed article comparing his butt with Sam’s and Bucky’s (sent in a text attachment by Sam, accompanied only by the peach emoji), and once more at the picture. 

He stares at it till he sees the man’s face behind his eyelids, till he could sketch it on a napkin without looking. And he does, actually, by accident - in the margins of his notes during a security briefing with Fury, he glances down to find his fingers tracing the deep set of the man’s eyes, the dark shadow of his brows. Algorithm or no, he won’t be able to hide forever. 

It’s the algorithm he’s thinking of as he continues to take his notes in the meeting, the sketch staring up at him in stark blue pen; there’s another face he wanted to look for, more than once he’d decide to search the SHIELD records, before changing his mind - just opening his browser and poising his fingers to start the search has him feeling like a damn creep. Like the internet stalker in that show Wanda was obsessed with. His ma raised a gentleman - there’s no way he was gonna be that guy.

The next morning, Sam begs off on their run, and Bucky is mysteriously absent from his room when Steve knocks, so he goes for his run alone. It’s not so bad - he’s got a fancy pair of headphones that Tony made last Christmas, and he loves watching the sunrise over the city. He even turns and crosses the bridge into Brooklyn, making a lap through Prospect Park before looping back towards Manhattan. Not so bad. Good, even. Really, really good. 

He slows down and stretches in front of the tower, propping his legs up on the bench out front and massaging his calves. There’s a little bit of a burn, but it melts at the pressure of his fingers, and the pleasant kind of soreness settles in. The kind he’s enjoyed and lived in since his body became sturdy and strong and decidedly anti-fragile - he’ll never say it out loud, but he still gets a little thrill when he manages to break a bone or dislocate a shoulder, goosebumps of pain shooting down his spine as he pops them back into place with a grunt of satisfaction. 

Hand hovering over the biometric scanner, he’s about to go back inside, take the elevator up to his room and hit the showers, when he sees someone at the crosswalk just a block down. 

Pink hoodie - huge, practically a dress - with a denim jacket tugged over it, bare legs trailing down into white combat boots, a backpack slung over one shoulder. She spares little more than a glance at the cars along the street before striding forward, nose turned up and arms crossed in a way that’s so New York it makes him do a double take. That early morning pout, tired eyes, like she’s not totally awake yet. Her steps firm and determined in those heavy boots, she makes a beeline for the green siren across the street, never once glancing his direction. 

It’s the first glimpse he’s had of her in a month. 

Not for lack of trying, but have you seen his schedule? He’s barely been stateside at all for nearly 3 weeks. Not to mention that one of Tony’s interns is always eager to volunteer for a coffee run, and he’s not sure what he would say, a good reason for him to insist to go by himself. 

With a glance at his phone - not due for a meeting for 3 more hours - he takes a deep breath and marches down the street, hands in his pockets, shoulders tucked. Less threatening to the passersby, who notice him, but say nothing. They’re in his neighborhood after all. 

A bell chimes above the door when he walks in, and the same “Welcome to Starbucks!” greets him, but he’s only half-listening as he scans the cafe. She’s at the register, chatting with the barista there who hands her a steaming white mug. 

“Ugh, thanks Chase, you’re a lifesaver,” she sighs, taking a sip. 

“Hey, it’s all part of the job,” the barista jokes back, adjusting the cap on his head. He’s noticed Steve hovering 3 feet back, waiting his turn, and his eyes switch between Steve and the girl in front of him rapidly. 

Their conversation ends, and the girl - the agent - takes her coffee to sit at a small table by herself, close to the windows, far enough back in a corner that she has a view of the whole cafe. Which she scans now as she sits, noting the two regulars in the opposite corner enjoying their customary flat whites, and…Captain America.

Interesting. 

She waits - he knows she’s waiting when he approaches the table, and she pretends not to know that he’s walking directly towards her, nose still tucked down towards her book, one hand poised at the handle of her coffee mug. 

He clears his throat. 

“Good morning,” she smiles when she looks up, the light from the window back-lighting her eyes, and the glow stuns him. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“Haven’t been around,” he shrugs. Are his cheeks hot? He gestures towards the chair across from her. “You mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” she shakes her head. He slides into the seat and she replaces her bookmark, setting the book aside. Valley of the Dolls. He’s not familiar. 

“Here for your morning Cappuccino?” She quirks her eyebrows as her smile stretches, just shy of goofy. Quite proud of herself. 

“Ha ha. Never been a big fan.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “First thing in the morning? I like a dark roast. Something to really wake you up, you know?”

“Hm,” she muses. “Sure, I understand.” 

“What about you?” 

“Me?” 

“Your coffee, I mean. You, uh…like coffee?” Smooth, Rogers.

“Oh, yeah. Love coffee.” There’s a laugh behind her smile, and he wishes she wouldn’t hold it back. “Here lately, I’ve had a thing for tall blondes.”

The flush on his cheeks inches down his neck.

“Huh?”

“Tall blonde Americano to be specific - you should try the blonde espresso, it’s really good.” She takes a sip of hers, hiding her dimple behind the mug. “And I always add an extra shot. I like ‘em strong.” 

God, even his ears are red, he knows it. The hell did he think he was gonna do when he came in here anyway, sweep her off her feet? He’s never been that good with dames, not even-

“I’m only joking-” she cracks up a little, giggling. “Sorry, the opportunity was too good, I just couldn’t resist.”

He sighs in relief, offers an embarrassed smile, and manages to relax a little in his chair. 

“So…why are you here? Really?” she lifts an eyebrow, leaning one elbow on the table. 

“Well…” and here it is, here goes nothing. “I thought - that is, I wondered, um, if you…might want to…get to know each other a little better.” Ouch. Thank God Bucky is nowhere near here. 

“Get to know each other?” 

“Yeah. Just, I mean, as friends.” 

“Huh.” 

Steve’s smile is sheepish, but it’s the one that always worked on his mother, and it seems to work on her. He can see the suspicion melt from her eyes, the interested quirk of her mouth as her fingers tap against the table. 

“I’m flattered and all, really, but you should know that virtually everything you could want to ask me about…my past, my qualifications, my education, my current assignment-” she lifts her hands in a helpless gesture. “It’s all classified. Probably above even your clearance.” 

“Classified?”

“There’s a reason why we never met, Captain.” He takes comfort in the fact that her smile is a little rueful. 

“Oh.” He sits back in his chair, a thoughtful frown on his lips. Looks out the window at passing traffic as he thinks. 

“Alright, then - how about a recommendation?” he turns back to her, eyes lit with curious confidence that catches her off guard. 

“A recommendation?” she repeats, bemused. 

“Coffee,” he grins, like it’s obvious, a wry quirk to his brows. 

“Coffee,” she echoes again, chewing her lip as she returns his smile. 

“Yeah - I always get the same thing,” he shrugs, eyes dancing. “Figured maybe I should branch out.”

Something she can tell him. Something they can share. 

A quick glance at her watch - 20 minutes before she has to clock in. 

“Alright then.” She stands from her seat, cracking her knuckles. “You wait here - I’m gonna pop behind the bar and make you something.”

He watches as she crosses the cafe, rounds the bar and gets to work whipping up…something. The steamer hisses as the milk is foamed, espresso grinding, and he can see her reach for some kind of syrup to pump into the cup. It only takes a minute or so before she’s done, returning with the cup presented triumphantly to him. The name “Cap” is scrawled on the front of the cup. 

“What is it?” 

“Just taste it first.”

The burst of caramel sweetness on his tongue nearly makes him gag - it’s a lot, whatever this drink is. It’s practically a dessert. Not bad, but he’s not sure how anyone could drink this in the morning. When he says so, she laughs out loud, head tipping back and mouth wide open. 

“I make those for 41 all the time,” she grins. “It’s not an official menu drink - I invented it for her.”

“Yeah I can see this being her drink.” 

“Oh, and when you go back to the tower, will you take her these?” She hands him a pastry bag. “I know they’re her favorite, and we had some that were about to expire.

He glances in the bag - two cookie dough cake pops and one birthday cake.

“I guess it’s not just Clint that spoils her, huh?” 

Across the table, she just smiles and shrugs. 

“I’m just here to make coffee.”

He takes another sip of the sugary concoction. 

“Sure.” 

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers oneshot #steve x reader #steve x y/n

[not-close-to-straight]

More Than Words (Fifteen)

And here we get slightly reacquainted with the actual plot of the story, since the last few chapters have been nothing but smutty relationship development.

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

**************

“Alpha?” Peter kicked the door to the cabin shut behind him and carefully carried eggs and milk to the kitchen table. “I think it's time to eat Soup, she hasn’t laid an egg in two weeks and since you’ve been sort of weirdly adamant about how the chickens are food and definitely not pets, I think she’s outlived her usefulness.” 

“You think so?” Wade put his carving knife away and slipped the nearly finished ring into his pocket before Peter saw it, fixing his mate with an indulgent smile. “You want Soup for dinner, Pete?” 

“It’s actually a fifty-fifty chance I’ll even be able to eat after feeding and cleaning up after her all these weeks.” The Omega countered. “This is like eating a pet bunny. A bunny named Stew.”

“Nobody keeps bunnies as pets.�� Wade pointed out, but when Pete only saddled him with a look, the Alpha raised his non existent eyebrows and whistled. “Alright, you modern people keep bunnies as pets, I take it?” 

Peter set the eggs down and stepped right up into Wade’s space, looping his arms around the Alpha’s neck and tugging him down for a sweet kiss before answering, “Yes, pet bunnies are a thing for us ‘modern people.’.” 

Wade only grunted and Peter pressed, “Come on. You’re telling me you’ve never seen a Peter Cottontail rabbit with those fluffy ears and funny tail and you’ve never wanted to bring it home?” 

“Wanted to bring it home to eat.” Wade’s grinned and Peter sighed at him. “Rabbits are delicious.” 

"You’re a brute.” Peter informed his mate. “I don’t even know why I like you.” 

“Well I certainly know why I like you.” the Alpha palmed over Peter’s rear, then yanked the slim Omega up against his body. “I feel like your reason for liking me goes right along the same lines.” 

Peter huffed a laugh into Wade’s ear, but didn’t pull away from his mate, deciding instead to press close and brush a kiss to Wade’s collarbone. “You feel good, Alpha.” he murmured. “Does this ever go away? The want to be with you all the time?”  

“I sure hope not, Pete.” The unfinished ring felt like it was burning a hole in Wade’s pocket, but he ignored it so he could hug on his Omega for a while. The need to touch, to taste, hadn’t diminished at all in the last day and a half, and Wade was still buzzing from the hour they’d spent in bed this morning before starting chores. He had no intention of letting go any sooner than he had to, and he told his mate exactly that, “I sure as hell don’t want to let you go anytime soon.”

“You’ll have to let go for a little bit, cos I need to do laundry today.” Peter muffled the words into the hollow of the Alpha’s throat. “I’ll need help getting the sheets wrung out but other than that, you should make yourself scarce. I need every inch of space in here to lay it out to dry.” 

“That’s fine.” Wade ran his fingers in distracting circles down Peter’s sides. “I got something I can work on in the barn, and you just whistle for me when you’re ready for help.” 

“I can do that.” the Omega stood on his toes when Wade palmed down over his rear again, bit back a moan when their bodies brushed together and his cock stirred. “Seriously, how is it even possible to want you again? I’m still half floating from what you did to me this morning.” 

“Only half floating?” Wade rubbed his thumb over his mate’s cheek and smiled when the Omega’s dark eyes filtered hazy. “I must not’ve done a good enough job if you’re only half floating. Should we try again?” 

“If we try again I’ll be comatose for the rest of the day.” Peter notched back into his Alpha and hummed happily when Wade automatically held him tighter. “And we’ve got chores to do.” 

“How about I do the chores.” Wade rumbled, low and coaxing. “You get naked and get back in bed. Stay warm and cosy for me. I’ve got a project in the barn I’ve been working on, so I can take care of the animals and then I’ll come in and work on laundry. No need for you to work too hard, my mate.” 

“Part of me should insist I’m a strong, independent Omega who can do his own chores.” Peter mused out loud. “But the other part of me knows better than to turn down the chance to watch you do laundry. Nothing gets me hot like watching an Alpha be domestic.” 

Wade’s shoulders shook with laughter, and the Omega teased, “But I know damn well you won’t get shit done if you know I’m naked under the covers.” 

“Orrrrr I could get everything done in record time and then spend the rest of the day naked with you.” Wade pointed out. “I’ll even do that thing with my tongue you like if you want.” 

Peter’s scent shocked with immediate arousal, lavender rolling thick and honeysuckle pitching sugary sweet, the lighter cedar notes heating until Wade had to throw his head back and suck in an open mouthed breath just to breathe a little oxygen. “Damn it, my mate. How do you do that?” 

“Sorry.” Peter didn’t sound repentant at all, in fact he sounded fairly smug about his ability to render his Alpha a drooling mess with nothing more than a change to his scent. “I thought about you getting naked and sorta got out of control.”

Wade hid a disbelieving laugh behind a long kiss, cupping Peter’s jaw and holding his Omega close until Peter was sighing and melting against him, the abrupt spike in the Omega’s scent mellowing to content. 

“Alpha, you don’t believe me, do you?” Peter whispered when they broke apart. “You don’t believe that just thinking about you naked turns me on this much.” 

“Pete--” Wade hesitated, trying to find the right words to ask how the hell Peter could find him honestly attractive when he looked like this. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I just--” 

“It’s just that you don’t believe me.” the Omega swept his fingers up along Wade’s neck to his jawline, and then over to his lips. “I can read it in your scent. Reluctance and disbelief and--”

It would ever not make Wade’s knees weak to be scented by his mate, Peter’s lips and nose touching his skin as the Omega inhaled. 

“--and uncertainty.” Peter finished, leaving a barely there kiss over Wade’s bonding spot. “The only time you ever scent uncertain is when you’re naked with me. I don’t understand why.”  

“Omega.” Wade shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“It’s a big deal.” 

“It’s really not--” 

“Listen.” Peter said then, softly firmly, as he guided Wade’s nose to his throat. “Listen to what I’m saying and make sure this time you believe it.” 

Wade closed his eyes and breathed in deep, running his nose over Peter’s throat and up to the hinge of his jaw, to the softest spot behind Peter’s ear. His mate smelled sweet, so sweet, like lavender and honeysuckle, like acceptance and arousal and need and mine--

“Mine.” Peter whispered out loud, and Wade would go to his grave before admitting that he whined and curled closer to his mate. “My Alpha. My mate. My love. Every inch of you is perfect.” 

“Mine.” Wade repeated, and Peter echoed it back with a satisfied purr, the Omega arching into the sting of Wade’s fangs at his throat. 

“Mine.” this time it was growled and Peter’s scent rolled with desire all over again. “My mate.” 

“Yours.” Feather soft fingers at Wade’s scalp, then Peter dug in harder at Wade’s shoulders when the Alpha shifted forward and dug the ends of curved fangs into the tender skin. “Oh-h-h fuck Alpha. I love your bite.” 

“And with that sentence you’ve rendered me fuckin’ helpless for the rest of the day.” Wade left one last kiss on Peter’s bonding spot, and pulled away until he could see the blatant want in his mate’s eyes. “How am I sposed to get anything done knowing you’re in here all antsy for my bite?” 

Peter only smiled, his gaze locked on Wade’s throat as he ran his tongue over his teeth. “I guess you’ll just have to try and focus until tonight.”

***************

***************

The claw foot bathtub had been an impromptu purchase years ago, decades ago, maybe. 

When Wade had first come to Haven-- or rather, when he was first dragged to Haven by an obstinate Omega that wouldn’t take no for an answer-- Logan had been adamant that Wade put down roots, all but bullying the Alpha into clearing land and building a cabin. The Omega knew from experience that stability was the only thing that kept the wild side, the feral side at bay and back in those days, Wade had only ever been one nightmare away from losing himself altogether. 

Stability. Logan had insisted. Get your shit together. 

Clint hadn’t been around yet, so Logan had helped set the foundations of the cabin right alongside Wade, Alpha and Omega working from sun up to sun down to raise the walls and secure the roof, to chop down the huge trees that became the beams in the barn. 

It had been back breaking, grueling work, and when the months were over Wade had gained himself a house and a piece of land, and a friend with both a healing factor and a bullshit attitude that rivaled his own. 

“Make it a home.” Logan had grunted as they sealed the final few logs and secured the cabin against the elements. “I can put up walls all day long, but it’s up to you to make it home, alright? Get your ass down to Haven and fit this place out. Stability, Wade. Don’t make me come up here after you cos you’ve gone bat shit, alright?” 

Wade hadn’t had home since losing Vanessa, and the first time he stepped into Mr. Lee’s shop to try and find domestic pieces, the Alpha had nearly had a panic attack. Pots and pan, blankets and towels, silverware and wash basins-- innocent, innocuous items turned vicious with the way they reminded Wade of his former mate and the peaceful life they’d carved out together. 

It was embarrassing how many times Wade had walked to the store only to turn around and walked away, how many times he’d made it to the front door and then couldn’t make it a step further. 

It was just house hold items and those weren’t scary at all, but they stood for moving on and Wade had never been good at that sort of thing. 

On the fourth or fifth useless attempt, Mr. Lee had apparently had enough of watching Wade change his mind. The old Alpha hustled out the door and smacked Wade right across the head for loitering, then dragged him inside and started piling random things in his arms. Mr. Lee had chattered non stop as he filled a basket for Wade, chattered non stop as he pushed Wade towards the counter, chattered non stop as he hustled Wade out the door and back to his wagon with an entire set up for his place and at least a hundred other things he didn’t need at all. 

The bathtub had caught his eye at the last minute, the only thing int he store Mr Lee didn’t think he needed, and as it turned out-- the only purchase Wade made because he wanted to.

He didn’t take baths of course, but it sure felt like the sort of thing that would definitely turn a cabin into a home, so Wade pressed the extra coin into Mr. Lee’s hands and loaded the tub into the wagon alongside everything else, lugging it up the mountain and shoving it into the storage area of the barn loft where it was promptly forgotten. 

It was years later though, and now the cabin was absolutely home. It was home for Wade through all the lonely years, but the last three months it had become home to Peter as well, so with Clint’s words about spoiling his mate ringing through his head, the Alpha climbed up into the barn loft and dragged the heavy tub out from beneath an old tarp. 

It took most of a day to clean the dust from the basin, and Wade worked at the harder spots with sand and caustic soap until his fingers were raw, not letting up until the tub sparkled like new again. The few dents on the rim were easy enough to bang out, and once the bath was back on the barn floor, Wade poured several inches of water into the bottom to check the seals. 

The old tub weighed enough to make Wade wheeze, but he flipped it over and braced the whole thing on his shoulders so he could get it around the back of the cabin, then covered up in another blanket so it would stay clean until he was ready.

Later that same afternoon while Peter was sleeping off a heavy lunch and the left over bliss from Wade’s fingers and tongue deep in his body, the Alpha left a scribbled note telling his mate to stay warm under the blankets and not worry about evening chores, that Wade would take care of them when he got home again. 

The Alpha slipped into his heaviest boots for this part of his project, then loaded two water barrels from the barn into the back of his hand cart. The fresh water spring in the hills above the cabin was a difficult hike in the snow, and weighted down with water on the return journey would make it even worse, ut Wade needed at least two full water barrels and maybe even part of a third to fill the tub for Peter’s bath tonight, so he buttoned his coat against the chill and set off up the mountain. 

He’d need a fire in the yard going to heat as pots of water, and he’d put the biggest cauldron over the indoor fireplace to make sure Peter had plenty of hot water. There was a still unopened package of lavender soap tucked away in the lean to, and the Alpha planned to crumble most of the bar into the bath so Peter would be covered in the gorgeous scent, his mate’s mind calmed by the fragrant oils and flawless skin pinkened by the steam.  

Wade couldn’t think of a better way to start their night together-- their bond together-- than to lay a giggling, pliant, spoiled Omega out on the bear skin rug and kiss away the water droplets as they trailed down his body. 

Tonight was the night. 

Tonight Peter would be his, writhing on the Alpha’s knot as Wade marked him silver, a ring on those slender fingers and dark brown eyes brightening to brilliant gold as their bond set. 

Tonight was the night and Peter would be his, time and distance and the impossibility of their love be damned. 

**************

**************

“I’m home, Pete!” Hours later, Wade rolled his shoulders and grimaced at the pull of sore muscles as he opened the door. Between hefting the bathtub and lugging the water, he was practically aching. He wouldn’t be sore in another hour, but for right now-- “I could use a back rub, sweetheart. Are you still naked?” 

The Alpha waggled his eyebrows in anticipation of his mate’s no doubt snarky come back, but he paused when Peter didn’t answer. “Pete? You in here?” 

The cabin was empty, bed covers rumpled and pillows askew, fire banked into hot coals. Lunch plates had been cleared away, the last laundry from the morning folded and put away, and even though Wade poked his head into the lean to and even opened the door of the root cellar, the Omega was no where to be seen. 

“Pete?” 

Wade’s note had been moved from the bed to the table, and the Alpha smiled when he saw Peter’s near illegible writing scrawled beneath his own script. 

Alpha my Alpha, 

Couldn’t sleep without you, went out to get started on chores so we have more time together tonight. 

There were a half dozen hearts on the bottom of the page and Wade made a mental note to tease is mate mercilessly about them later. 

Hearts on the bottom of a note. 

Wacky Omega. 

If Peter was out of the way and preoccupied with chores, Wade was going to use the time to get everything set up, so he got to work filling the huge cauldron on the fire and stoking the coals back to flame to set the water boiling. He dragged the big tub inside and set it close to the fireplace so the cold metal would warm, then went out back to start another fire and boil water in the next biggest pots.  

The whole project would take at least an hour, so the Alpha piled each fire with plenty of kindling and thick pieces of oak to keep the temperature high, then went around trying to clean up the cabin a little more. 

Wade wasn’t one to be overly domestic, but Peter had already teased about domestic Alpha’s making him hot, so Wade made quick work of strippin the sheets right off the bed and switching them for clean ones, fluffing up a few pillows and tossing them down onto the bear skin rug. He added extra blankets in case the Omega was chilly outside of his bath, the flask of moonshine to sip so his mate would be loose limbed and smiling, and Wade even set out some of the sugary sweet dried fruit they’d bought in Haven along with a few pieces of chocolate. 

Then with a grimace-- “Spose I can’t make fun of Pete for leaving hearts on the note if I’m putting out fruit and chocolate, huh?” 

The flush of embarrassment over an admittedly cheesy attempt at romance didn’t stop the Alpha from trying to arrange the fruit pretty anyway, breaking up the dark chocolate to spread around the plate. He knew from experience how good his Omega tasted with chocolate melting on his lips, how sweet Peter’s kisses were with the tang of fruit on his tongue and Wade groaned a little, palming down his cock and licking over his fangs as he thought about just how good their night would go. 

First a bath, then bonding and once Peter was marked and his, Wade would slip the ring onto Peter’s fourth finger and pray to whichever gods were listening that his mate would accept the hand crafted piece. The ring was simple but beautiful, a true labor of love, smoothed and polished to a high shine and Wade had painstakingly carved an infinity symbol on the inside of the band, a tiny mark meant as a promise for forever, for eternity--

--for as long as this timeline allowed him to keep his mate. 

The thought made the Alpha sober, and he hurried through the rest of the preparations so everything would be ready for Peter. The water was almost boiling so Wade started emptying full pots into the bathtub and refilling them from the water barrels, knowing the scalding temperature would cool enough to soak in by the time the bath was full. He broke a few pieces of lavender soap into the hot water and set it to steaming, then swept the floor, wiped down the table and the kitchen and even took a few passes at the small mirror so if Peter wanted to admire his bonding mark the next morning, the glass would be bright and clear. 

It wasn’t until after the cabin was sparkling and the bath was half full that Wade glanced out the window to see the sun setting, and then with an uncomfortable jolt, looked around the cabin and realized Peter had never come in from the barn. 

It wasn’t unlike the Omega to end up cuddling close to the horses and getting drowsy, or to lose a few hours twisting hay and chirping down at the animals, but they had planned on naked spending extra time together tonight, had planned on it, even. Peter was just as desperate as Wade to get to skin and heat these days, just as needy and clingy so it didn’t make any sense that the sun was setting, and his mate wasn’t sat squarely on his lap right this very instant. 

It didn’t make any sense.

Something awful settled in the pit of Wade’s stomach, the Alpha’s fists clenching and jaw working as he tried to dampen the immediate instinct to worry. There was no reason for him to think the worst, no reason for his chest to be closing with stress. Peter was probably fine, everything was probably fine, their cabin was safe and Wade had kept a close eye on any tracks around the clearing to make sure nothing bigger than a raccoon was wandering around. 

It was fine. They were fine. Peter was just busy. 

Peter was just busy and most definitely fine, but Wade still tipped his head back and tasted the air anyway, trying to find his mate’s scent. He would have felt any distress in the air when he came home, the horses would have been screaming and if a predator had come along and really there was no reason to think anything was wrong but suddenly the Alpha couldn’t breathe through the panic wrapping around his heart.  

My mate. 

Wade was out the cabin door in the next instant, halfway to the barn before he even realized he was running, eyes snapping red and a growl working from his chest as he bolted towards the heavy double doors. 

“Pete!” he called, the tightness in his stomach climbing to his throat and threatening to strangle him with every breath. “Pete? Are you in there?” 

“Omega!” the barn was quiet, Bea and Arthur quiet in their stalls, and the chickens dozing in their roost. “OMEGA!” 

“Wade.” 

The Alpha ripped around with a snarl, fangs bared and fists balled as he got a noseful of something oily and messy, danger rippling through the air and surrounding Wade as he turned on his heel ready to rip the intruder apart. 

“Easy.” Eddie stumbled back several steps when Wade whirled on him with a heart stopping growl. “Ea-Easy Wade. S’just me. Just me. Eddie.” 

“Eddie.” Wade sent another wild glance around the barn, then whistled up to the loft. “Pete! You fall asleep twisting hay? Wake up, my mate. Now!” 

“Wade.” Eddie was distressed today, black bubbling beneath his skin and his eyes flickering opaline as he shifted from one foot to the other. “I need to talk to you.” 

“I need to find my mate.” Every one of Wade’s instincts screamed that something was wrong wrong wrong and he didn’t have time to tiptoe around a disjointed, fragile conversation with the compromised mutant. “I don’t have time to talk, Eddie. I need to find my mate.” 

“No no Wade, listen--” Eddie hurried after Wade when he left the barn again, following the agitated Alpha across the clearing. “Please just listen--” 

“Omega!” Wade put two fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply into the woods. “Peter! My mate! Answer me! Where are you?!” 

“Wade--” 

“Damn it, Eddie! I don’t have time to--”

“Wade!” Eddie’s teeth lengthened and clicked as they popped their jaw in agitation, and they clamped down on Wade’s arms with clawed fingers, the black beneath their skin rippling and rising until they were strong enough to yank Wade to a stop and force him still. 

“M’only gonna tell you one time to let me go.” Wade warned, hazel eyes darkening to a dangerous shade of scarlet. “Let me go so I can find my mate. Now.” 

“I don’t want you to think it’s my fault.” Eddie said then, and Wade went very very still, dread rocketing through his core. “I didn’t do anything, I promise. It’s not my fault, not-- not our fault.”

“Eddie.” Wade stared down at the wicked claws on his arm, and then up into the opaline eyes of Eddie’s monster. “Do you know where my mate is?” 

“It's not our fault.” Eddie said again, hissing from behind a too long tongue. “We didn’t hurt him, I swear. Or at least, I don’t think we hurt him. No no no, we wouldn’t hurt the Omega, we wouldn’t hurt--” 

They were babbling, rambling, shifting as the other struggled to come forward and take over when Eddie slipped up and couldn’t find the right words. “We wouldn’t hurt-- not the Omega-- not the--” 

“EDDIE!”

“Not our fault.” came the guttural, deep voice of that thing lurking inside Eddie. “We didn’t hurt your mate.” 

“Shit shit shit.” Wade yanked his arm free and dragged his hands down his face.  “Fuck. Eddie, I don’t give a damn what you did or didn’t do right now, just tell me where my mate is!” 

“We can show you.” the thing answered and Wade nodded “We can show you. Come with us.” 

They took off into the woods, Wade hot on Eddie’s heels, trying to breathe through his fear and his panic and wanting with his whole heart to believe Eddie was telling the truth when they insisted--

Not our fault, not our fault. We didn’t hurt your Omega. 

Not our fault.

*******************

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#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #abo dynamics #soulmate au #eddie brock #venom #time travel au #alpha wade wilson #omega peter par

[justtextmeoppa]

❝ I broke my wings pt.2 ❞

Plot: When you finally find a different side of your boss and you start asking yourself who’s really that person.

Pairing: JinkixReader

Words count: 3,9k+

Genre: RealLife!Au / Sorry for the plot twist lmao 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner! ♥

The italics part is a flashback!

P.S. Our favorite cutthroat will soon have a series of its own, but in the meantime I’m really happy you enjoyed this little story. I'm glad that helped you and I hope that you’ll like this second as much as you liked the first. Love ya. ♥

P.P.S. Thanks to anyone who has read this scenario, I love all of you. ♥

- M.

The limo without Minho seemed more boring than the outward trip, but it had reassured you to go away without any problems that he would find a way back home. Alone in the rear seats, you started to quietly turn that mysterious package in your hands, asking whether or not to open it. You had always had an incredible level of curiosity, but you almost felt uncomfortable accepting a gift from your own boss. 

“You’re incredibly beautiful.” 

“Aish, that bastard. I know you don’t believe it! ” You exclaimed by remembering that compliment said with sincerity, throwing the package on the seat next to you, “But was it really Lee Jinki? Or did I dream? He was so different.. ” 

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be lulled by the silence around you and the gentle movement of the car in night traffic. You had always loved the city at night, assuming the nuances that had always been its greatest charm. 

“C'mon y/N, open it.” 

With courage, you took the package and started to discard it with attention, almost frightened to ruin the contents of that small box. 

“Who knows what it is..” Curiosity was having the best and when you finally raised the blue lid of the box, your heart stopped for a few moments and the confusion made its way into your mind. 

They were a pair of wing-shaped earrings and they were so beautiful that had completely taken your breath away. With the fingertip of your finger, you caressed one of the two earrings, noticing they were embedded with small red stones that drew the outline of the same. 

“Don’t you–what the hell.. that man is crazy.. Rubies?!?!?!?! “ You almost screamed after observing your present, astonished and upset; "I don’t think he mad–” 

“Just accept them, miss.” 

“Holy shit!” You bite your lip, jolting on the seat and dropping the box at your feet. 

The black window that divided the driver’s seat to the rest of the limo had been lowered and a man in the 40s was observing you from the rearview window. 

“AHJUSSI! He made me frighten! ” 

“I’m sorry, Miss.” He apologized with a little nod, remaining concentrated on the road. “I was telling that you should accept them.” 

“But they would cost too much..” 

“Do you think it’s a huge cost for him? And anyway this is for her. ” 

At the first red light the man turned and handed a beige envelope and Jinki’s calligraphy stood out on the color of the envelope. 

“T-thank you..” 

“We’re almost there, anyway.” 

“Huh? Thanks, Ahjussi. ” 

You couldn’t understand why, but by squeezing that letter in your hands a strange and annoying feeling made its way inside you. So much to make you wish you never accepted that gift or that passage to go home. ~ ~ 

The sound of your heels resonated in the hallway while in a hurry you headed to his office. You didn’t care to be in the evening dress, you didn’t care about the looks of the guardians as soon as they saw you get off the limo. 

You were sure he was in the office because that was more of a house for him than a workplace. And the bright light of his office was the proof you needed. 

You wouldn’t knock, but as a fury, you opened the door and entered. You could feel your body tense, almost ready for a war that might not have arrived but that it was better to keep controlled. 

“What the hell is this?!?!” 

Jinki was turned from the shoulders, his gaze on Seoul Skydive and didn’t wear the jacket since he had never had the care of recovering it during the evening. It was the second time in three years that you saw him not dressed to perfection, he had rolled his sleeves right on his elbows and kept holding his hands on his hips. 

He was going to ignore you, at least it was what you seemed to be doing. You approached the desk, violently beating the package and the letter was given to you even an hour earlier. 

The letter you had read and reread to see if it was a joke or not its content.

“Yah! Yah! Lee Jinki, answer me! ” 

“I had never heard you scream in this way; Y/N. ” 

“Answer me!” 

“I thought you knew how to read.” It was his answer and his calm made you only want to choke him, but when he turned that desire disappeared in the moment of a breath. 

His eyes were sad even though he was smiling and was watching you in a way that you had never seen. Perhaps he had looked at you other times, but you were always busy to hating him for his behavior that you never took the time to really look at him. 

He came up to the desk and drew the two earrings out of the box, looking them with satisfaction. He went to the desk and moved towards you, making you back a few steps because of the surprise of seeing him so close. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Wasn’t I your boss? Shouldn’t you be more respectful? ” 

“Not after that gift and that letter.” 

“I can always fire you.” You remained silent while he, gently, pulling out your earrings and made you wear the ones he gave you. He walked away from two steps, caressing his chin and observing them thoughtfully. It looked almost like a candid camera but you didn’t dare to speak. 

“Much better.”

“What?”

“Those earrings are bet–” 

“Is it true, Jinki?” 

This time anger wasn’t the only thing your heart was experiencing, but also a sense of sadness that you couldn’t explain. 

“Why do you care so much?” 

“Because.. Because it doesn’t make sense. ” 

He smiled at your sentence, taking you hand and moving you to one of the chairs that were facing his desk. He made you sit and he rested directly at the edge of the desk, looking you from above. 

“Why does life have sense?” 

“Most of the time no but.. Why me? ” 

“Because you’re the only one that can really help me. If it’s a matter of money, don’t you–” “I don’t care about your fucking money, Jinki.” You silenced him before he could end up talking, asking yourself when the respect taught by your parents disappeared; “Why the Gift?” 

“No, the gift is a little reminder of what I’ve told you before.” 

“We would need time, sir.. You’re dying and.. We need time to take care of everything.. ” 

“Then you remember how you should speak to me.” He chuckled, while his eyes thinned so much to disappear and the two front incisors slightly crooked made their appearance. He remembered a little bunny at the time, but it wasn’t the right one for some thoughts. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I’m sorry to have involved you.. But you’re the only person who could make a choice like mine. I needed another me, Y/N. ”

~ ~ 

The truth was, you couldn’t see him in another light. Every day you went to work, aware of the truth unlike all the others, and despite its coldness, its abrupt ways and your impossible times, you could no longer be angry with him. 

“The boss is looking for you.” Called you a colleague, shaking his hand in front of your face and you immediately jumped out of the chair, starting almost to run to his office. 

“Excuse me, sir, I know he was looking for me.” You panted, because of the short breath, entering the office and making a bow of ninety degrees because of the displeasure. 

“The documents?” 

“I had delivered them to the company’s legal department” 

“Well, Y/N. The other question? ” He lifted his gaze from the PC, laying it on you and almost trying to read your mind. He scared you when he looked at you that way, but his gaze still had some charm. 

“Go ahead..” 

“I’m really sorry to have you involved.” 

“I think I’ve always been tied to you with double-stranded sir, now I’ve accepted and I won’t pull back.” 

“Thank you” whispered, returning to watch the PC and leaving you unhappy with his answer. 

You would have wanted a moment more, just one, in order to understand why you, a moment in order to hear his voice, even just a reproach. But he had begun to ignore you after thanked you and you didn’t know if you had a bipolar or simply obnoxious person in front of you. 

“Y/n?” 

“Sir?” 

“You could say no.” He pointed out, without looking at you but his hand trembled and you knew it was nervousness. It manifested itself that way, but you never made him realize that you noticed. 

“I don’t like to say no to anyone who needs me..” 

“I really need you, Y/N.” ~ ~ 

  “Doctor Y/L/N, Doctor!” 

The thump with the floor and the pain made you wake up immediately and the confusion was the feeling that overwhelmed you at that moment. 

“Doctor!! There’s a patient in the E.R. who needs her! ” 

“I’M.. C-COMING…” 

When the nurse finally left you alone, you raised from the floor and your reflection in the mirror greeted you, remember with little joy to you how little you slept and ate for days. 

The dream you were doing had put roots in your mind and the images of Jinki kept tormenting you. 

You never knew that guy, but in that dream, he was your boss and he asked for help, even though now the reason seemed suddenly vanishied from your memories 

“Ah.. Y/N, you have to look less drama.. ” 

You mumbled, wearing the gown and running out of the room to reach the E.R., where for the 36th hour in a row you would have done your job. 

“What do we have?” You asked once you reach your daily chaos, putting the gloves on while one of the paramedics passed the patient’s briefcase. 

“Car accident, critical conditions. Decreased pressure, loss of consciousness on the ambulance.” Minho quickly listed, while his white coat fluttered because of your race to the first free box where to do the triage of the patient. 

Your eyes moved from the briefcase to the patient on the stretcher and your legs almost succumbed under the weight of your body. 

Bleeding, intubated and between life and death. 

In front of you was Lee Jinki and you were the only one who could really save him. 

The boy you dreamed of until a few moments before was dying in front of you. And everything was clear, that was the help of those who really needed it. 

“Let’s get him to the O.R. now, he has a laceration of the pericardial. If we don’t operate him right away he’ll die. ” Your voice shouted against the nurses, as you dropped his briefcase at his feet and climbed on the bed, putting astride on him starting to practice CPR. He had to stay alive.  “I said Move!” 

“Yes, Doctor.” 

“Hold on Jinki.. Hold On. ” You whispered while forcefully continuing to practice the heart massage. 

His eyes opened for a moment and just as in your dream they met, while a violent shiver made you tremble from head to toe. It was so familiar that look that scared you. 

“Everything will be fine Jinki, everything will be fine.” 

“Help me..” A blood clot made him almost suffocate while with fatigue he said those words, and your heart almost broke at that sight. 

You couldn’t lose him and you’d do anything to prevent it. 

~ ~ 

“Congratulations, doctor, perfect surgery. That patient is alive thanks to her. ” One of the nurses congratulated with you as you left the operating room, completely exhausted and covered with his blood. 

Everyone applauded your passage, but you couldn’t enjoy that moment. The pictures of you two at that dinner, the black dress, the earrings.. Everything seemed so real that you couldn’t figure out what the dream was like between the two. 

“Y/n! Nice work first in the O.R.” 

“Taemin.. Thank you for your work, where can I find a good anesthesiologist like you?!? ” He smiled at your compliment and you caressed his shoulder as a Thanksgiving, moving away almost immediately because you were too exhausted to really hold up a conversation. 

Your feet seemed, however, to have their own life and without realizing you found yourself in front of the door of the intensive care unit. 

He was there, who still fought against death but with more weapons in his side. 

“Oh, Dr. Y/L/N. Must you see her patient?” Asked with kindness a nurse just out of the automatic doors, smiling at you. 

You simply nodded your head, overgo her and headed for your patient’s room. In silence you entered, noticing that no relative or friend was at his bedside. It was just like in your dream. 

You paraded the white coat, carrier to the bar of the bed and sitting on the armchair usually used by the family. You had no right to stay there, but you felt oddly the need. 

“Lee Jinki.. How is it possible? ” You hummed, taking his hand between your own; “How can I made such a vivid dream..? You looked so real, the things you told me.. Not to break my wings.. And then you barged into my E.R. What should I think? God.. My head bursts. ”

“I’ll become a doctor!”

“Sure and I’ll create from nowhere a billionaire company!”

“Jinki don’t kidding!!”

Jinki’s laughter filled the air while she’s observing her best friend who kept passing the rice cakes that his mother used to do.

“I’m older, bring me respect yah!”

“Soooooorry!”

“Y/N, if you become a doctor you must promise that you’ll save many lives and help me to help the neediest.” The little and chubby 10 years old child said with a serious tone, looking at his best friend, a cute girl of only six years.

They made a deal shaking their hand and spitting on the ground, a way they had seen to do in an American television show and that they had always wanted to try.

“Y/N, let’s get one thing!” “What?” The little girl asked, looking Jinki as if he was the most beautiful child in the world.

“That whatever happens we will always be together and never allow anyone to break our wings. Mom always says that you and I are destined for great things and that we’re special. Promised? ”

“Breaking the wings..? But we’re not angels! ”

“For me you are.” He whispered, approaching her and giving her a kiss on the forehead, making her blush immediately.

Two days later, however, they both understood that the promise couldn’t be kept. Jinki’s parents had decided to leave for Europe and everything they left to that little girl was a void that she failed to fill.

But her brain protected her. Instinctively it erased completely Jinki from her memory, leaving her happy after all. The doctors weren’t surprised, it happened more often than what has believed that the human mind erased something painful to preserve himself It was strange that it had happened in a child so young and full of vitality.

Y/N had deleted Jinki because of the pain, but Jinki had never forgotten that one person and their promise. “Doctor? Doctor?” Someone was shaking your shoulder gently and you snapped up your head, noticing you fell asleep in the chamber of Jinki. 

You immediately checked the parameters on the monitor, pulling a sigh of relief seeing that the situation hadn’t changed. Neither improved nor worsened.

“Excuse me, doctor, but we saw you here and we thought you wouldn’t feel good.” 

“No, I’m sorry nurse Oh. I was coming to check but the fatigue had the best.. Do you have any news from his family? ” 

The nurse shook her head sadly and you nodded, thanking her for the kindness of waking you up. 

As soon as she came out, you would focus your attention on him. It was identical to how you dreamed him and a strange feeling of familiarity, not due to that dream, began to make you think more and more. You didn’t leave his hand even when you fell asleep but you couldn’t stay there forever. 

Getting plan you were trying to loosen the grip but suddenly his hand squeezed on yours, preventing you from leaving it. You lifted your face and watched him, feeling the relief start to dissolve that weight you wore in your heart since you saw him dying on the bed in the E.R. 

“Jinki-nim, do you hear me?” 

He simply nodded, not being able to speak because intubated, provoking you a huge smile. His reactivity was something that boded well, but still, the danger wasn’t yet quite pass away. 

“What?” You wondered when he began to point out his personal effects, completely bloody and enclosed in a transparent envelope. He was so insistent on showing you that envelope that left his hand you approached the small table on the other side of the bed, starting to rummage between them. 

His hand moved more vigorously when your hands reached his wallet; but you couldn’t open it. It was something too personal, you already felt incredibly uncomfortable to rummage through his things despite his “permission”. 

“I call the nurses so we take the tube out and then you can tell me everything you want and look personally in your wallet, Jinki-Nim.” You assured him, dropping his wallet on the table and almost running out of his room. 

You felt suffocated and your head started to hurt, so much you just want to get away to your house and stay in the dark of your room for three full days. 

But you were a doctor and you couldn’t get away that way. With two nurses you came back to his room, trying to get back the tears that suddenly were threatening to make you crumble to weep, smiling at him with sweetness and explaining that would have felt a slight sore at his throat but then it would end immediately. 

You paraded the tube slowly, passing it to the nurse and focusing immediately upon him. He wasn’t even coughing, but he looked at you intensely. His gaze made you shudder, not because his face was, unfortunately, full of bruising and cuts, but because of his eyes, despite he was almost dead, were full of a happiness that you couldn’t explain. 

“Here.. Do you want some water? ” 

“Y/N..” 

Hearing your name you froze, lowering your gaze on you to see where he could read it. But the gown was at the foot of the bed and no identification plate was pinned on the surgical “uniform”. 

How could you know your name, then? A shiver along you back made you come back to reality, while a small but pulled smile was delineated on your lips.

“Y/N..” 

“How.. How do you know my name..? ” 

“You don’t have.. You don’t have.. Broken your wings, right? ” 

Immediately you walked away from the bed, under the astonished gaze of the nurse left with you to control the patient, starting to tremble. It had become so confused that now your head was a whirlwind of thoughts, without finding the slightest answer to any of your questions. 

“H-How do you know..? Who are you? ” 

“L-Look in the wallet Y/N..” 

With anger you took his wallet, opening it and looking through the banknotes and in every possible space. You were about to close it when a yellowed and slightly crumpled photo captured your attention. Your hands now trembled so convulsively that it was difficult to take out the photo, but your heart took a dip when two seconds were enough to recognize the smiling face of the little girl who stared at you from the photo. It was you. 

“How do you get this picture? Who are you? ” 

“Doctor, calm down ple–” 

“OUT.” You shouted at her and hesitant she bowed her head, leaving you alone. 

You shook the picture in front him, trying to keep a certain calm despite the difficulties. He was your patient, you should have let him rest but now you needed answers. 

“Who Are you? Why do you have this picture? AND WHY THE HELL DID I DO THAT DREAM WHERE YOU WERE IN? I DON’T KNOW YOU ARE! HOW DO YOU GET THIS PHOTO??” 

“M-My mother.. my mother, t-taken it.. Y/N.. Please remember.. Your M-mother told me what h-happened.. I was c-coming here w-when that car took i-in full my.. I was coming to you.. ” 

“I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE!” 

“I-instead you know.. I built that billionaire company and you b-became a-a doctor. And w-we both kept t-that promise "He stammered breathless, making a little grimace of pain but without stopping to look at you. It almost seemed to depend on his life from that look, from you. 

“I REPEAT, I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU AR–” Your scream choked in your throat, while the memory of that day flashed in your mind, letting you collapse on the chair without force. 

His smile, his cheeks chicks, the way you look at him as if he were your personal hero. You remembered everything, as well as the pain of having lost the only friend you ever had. 

The tears began to slip onto your cheeks, falling on the picture and on your hands held almost without life on your own womb. The pain went to waves as if he wanted to recover the time lost in those twenty years. 

“J-Jinki..” 

“Of w-which.. D-Dream you were talking..? ” 

“I was one of your L-lawyers.. But.. I didn’t even know what face you had.. H-How did I dream you..? ” 

“Do you think there is always a s-sense in things, Y/N?” He asked you, smiling with an effort and trying to sit down. 

You immediately locked him in bed, shaking your head and setting the pillow under his nape. He was even more beautiful than your dreams and his gaze was sweet, apprehensive and full of displeasure. 

“W-why now..?” 

“Because you were flying thanks to your talents, you’re an amazing doctor and I.. I didn’t want to break your wings, y/N. Not like I did with mine.. ” 

“I can always help you to stitch them.. That promise for me is still valid, Lee Jinki. ”

#lee jinki #jinki #jinki scenario #jinki imagines #Jinki reactions #onew #onew scenario #onew reaction #onew imagines #shinee jinki #shinee onew #shinee scenarios #shinee reactions #shinee imagines #kpop #kpop text #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #minho #taemin #kibum #jonghyun