Can't Stop [ Aomine X Reader ]

Story Trade with itsameee

The following consists of murderous cursing. You have been warned. 

-

Can't Stop [Aomine X Reader]

- 

"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds." 

― Laurell K. Hamilton, Mistral's Kiss

-

"Stop lying to me like I'm some three year old child Aomine!" you scream, your arms sweeping across the table, pushing all the gifts and well-wishes onto the floor. You could hear something break in one of the boxes, but you didn't care. Well-wishes was the last thing you needed right now in such a fragile period. 

You notice how Aomine's hand is clenched tightly in a fist, the nerves making clear markes across his skin with his muscles slightly tense. You know the signs. You've experienced it before, but this time you just didn't want to back down again. Not another time to let him get away with everything that he'd done. Shuddering a bit, your accusing eyes prick him when he sees the sheer pulse of disbelief and hatred swirling in your eyes.

"I'm not fucking playing with you okay!" Aomine growls, his fist slamming into the wall. There's an evident sound of the cracking of a few bones but you just smirk unsuccessfully, your intended smug smile flopping to look as if you were cringing instead. Aomine doesn't even flinch even though he can feel from the stinging pain that he had most probably hurt his knuckles once again. Blood pools around the wound before sliding off his dark, rough hands, some lodging themselves in areas where his flesh is uneven, a scar marking the past.

"Damn right you aren't! What is this then?!" you scream, thrashing the photos onto his chest. Scattered, the lustre photos float into the air, the images once again piercing through your heart, the smiles on the faces of those in the photo mocking your stupidity, taunting at how you were such a failure at keeping your marriage a success, condemning you to something less than even a mistress. 

Even he didn't want to stay by your side, choosing to blow empty kisses and promises into the phone while his arm was wrapped around the waist of another, his lips on her collarbone, teeth poised perfectly to take a hungry bite out of that sweet, untainted skin. 

"I'm not- You're spying on me?!" Aomine shouts, his arm jerking to grab you in his vice-like grip, but all you can hear is how he accuses you so vehemently that you were invading his personal private space. You can't even feel how much force he exerts on your arm, the numb throbbing being the only signal that you actually still lived in such a place. 

"I just- I- Let's just call it quits." you sigh in resignation, not moving a single inch from his grip. Ever since Aomine had joined the National Basketball Team with the rest of the Generation of Miracles, you hadn't really seen his face. Even an occasional argument would have at least been nice to remind you that he was actually still by your side, but all that greeted you every single time you had gotten home from a long day of work was just an empty house.

Every time you had set out dinner in hopes that he might just stop by for a short ten to fifteen minutes proved futile when the clock struck eleven. 

Every time you had washed his suits and jerseys time and again just so he could come home to have a clean outfit to wear.

Every time you had cleaned the basketball shoes that you had bought for him in his senior year, but he already had a different pair beside him during his games. 

Every single goddamn time before that envelope was tossed onto your perfect lawn, the burning photos of each passionate act engraving into your memory. 

"I- You can't. I'm not going to. It's going to be bad for me. What will the media think about this? Are you that fucking stupid?" Aomine shoves you full force as he had done countless times in his basketball matches and you stumble back from the force, tripping over one of the gift boxes and slamming your head into one of the corners of the table. 

A sharp pain shoots through your head and a warm, metallic maroon dyes your white shirt. Your vision blurs, your sight of your husband ever so cloudy as if you couldn't see him as clearly as the first time you had met him. There wasn't any smile on his face anymore, but you could no longer see what expression he wore on his face. 

Then, your vision goes completely dark, entrapping you into a cage with no escape.

-

"I'm home!" Aomine shouts out, his basketball bouncing onto the cold and hard concrete and then rolling into a corner. The loneliness of the house echoes back to him and a salty water drop makes its way first down his cheek. Tears thud silently onto the floor, but there is nothing anymore to cover that sound except for the resonance of the house and its emptiness.

-

YAY! itsameee, sorry for posting so so so late!

Argh, i've been having all these feels watching all these shows and reading all these books I can't help it anymore.

Forgive me for being such a douche.

I realised that a friend that I have is a douche and quote my friend *ahem ahem*  ' a dick within a dick. I see. Dickception. ' 

Sorry for all the cursing.

I warned you from the start.

I'm  still sorry though.

oh well.

Haters gonna hate:/