I’ve never seen the series this character is a part of but I looked her up for reference and hope I hit the tone of what you’re looking for! – Admin Jade
Riko looked over her 9 millimeter one last time, the shine of its metal glimmering even in the slightly muted light of the room. A quick flick of her wrist produced the satisfying click of its magazine settling into place. Holstering the weapon, she took one last glance in the mirror, frowning at the reflection behind her own.
“I wish for once you’d go into a job without relying on your tits,” she grumbled as Momoi zipped up her leather jacket to just under her massive chest, the cinching making them appear even larger.
“And I wish you’d just admit you were jealous of my winning assets,” quipped back the pink haired woman, pursing her lips to apply red lipstick. Capping the tube she turned her head in the direction of her partner. “Besides, have I ever failed at getting us into where we need to be? I’m the beauty and you’re the muscle, though,” she trailed a critical eye over the svelt female before her, “you could stand to put on a little more weight.”
Riko groused, “What do you mean the muscle? I’m the brains of this operation!”
“Oh sweetie,” Momoi giggled, patting her head, “it’s cute you actually believe that.”
Riko smacked away her hand, grumbling to herself as she strode across the room to grab her own jacket and helmet. “You ready or what?” she snapped, not bothering to wait for a reply.
Momoi, taking one last moment to secure her trusty blade in its thigh holster, scampered to catch up, reaching Riko and her bike just as she settled upon its seat. When she was stable, Momoi climbed aboard behind her, nestling close to her back.
“And do you have to press them against me?! I’m not Aomine you know!”
“As if I’d do that to Dai-chan!” Momoi protested.
“You do it to everybody!”
Momoi complied, sliding back ever so slightly, allowing Riko a bit of breathing room. The brown hair fired up the engine, revving it a few times for good measure before taking off in a burst of speed towards the highway. As they made their way towards the city, she asked through the two way radio wired in their helmets, “So what’re we after this time anyway?”
“Ruby necklace, worth a fortune,” Momoi replied.
“And who’s the schmuck we’re takin’ it from?”
“Akashi Seijurooo!” Momoi squealed as Riko almost lost control of the bike in her shock.
She skidded to a halt, pulling to the side of the road and flipped up her visor. “Are you fucking crazy?!” she shouted over the din of the traffic racing by.
“What? We got a good price for the job. Plus, Sei-chan knows me! It’ll be a cinch to get in! You’ll see!”
“See, what you failed to mention is it would be impossible to get out!” Riko snapped, taking a deep breath before standing from her cover to fire two shots at their pursuers.
Momoi crouched next to her, chest heaving. “Still, you gotta admit it’s been a while since we had any real excitement!” Using her compact, she eyed their enemy from a safer vantage. “Two to the right, go in three…two….one!”
Riko stood again, firing perfect shots catching both guards in their shoulders. “Of all the stupid, hairbrained, cockamamie ideas,” she mumbled snapping in a new round of ammo. “If we make it out of here alive,” she sighed, “I’m never letting you pick a job again.”
Momoi just shrugged, her lilting giggle making Riko’s temple pulse until she heard again, “Now the left! Three…two…one…”
“Isn’t that what he just did?” Midorima snickered, unwinding the tape from his fingers to discard.
Aomine’s scowl melted away to an enthusiastic smile, hands gripping Akashi’s shoulders and shaking him slightly in his excitement. “Wow, Seijuro! That was awesome! For a second there, it looked like you really stabbed him!”
Akashi smiled, but before he could reply Kagami was bellowing, “What do you mean looked like?! He did!”
“Calm down baka!” Kuroko said firmly, smacking him on the back of the head. “It’s barely a scratch!”
“Barely a scratch! This idiot drew blood!” Teeth clenched and fists ready to fly, Kagami turned his attention to the other redhead. “You need to know where your mark is! It was perfectly placed to get within a centimeter of my face, not actually cut me! To top it all off, I have a meet and greet,” he looked at his watch, “in thirty minutes and now I have this to deal with!”
Akashi eye’s widened. Taking a step forward, hand outstretched he said quietly, “I…I’m sorry Taiga, I didn’t realize I was that close.”
“A likely story, you’re just lucky I was able to stay in character long enough to complete the scene!”
“Taiga, enough,” Kise said evenly, crossing his arms. Gone was his bubbly persona, his bright eyes narrowed and slightly obscured by his bangs. “You’re fine. Just go to the makeup department, they’ll have you looking good as new in no time.”
“Probably better,” Kuroko sniggered.
“Why you-”
“Do not make me repeat myself,” Kise reprimanded voice firmer. “Taiga, go. The rest of you, let’s get some lunch.”
“I’ll pass,” Murasakibara said. “I’m not that hungry.”
As the seven stars of Kuroko’s Basketball made their way off set one stagehand commented, “They’re so…different when the camera isn’t rolling.”
His companion nodded. “Sometimes I wonder how they were cast as they are.” He shrugged. “Oh well, as long as they get the job done, who cares?”
Alright, here it is! Roman God AU for Iwaizumi! I’m sorry it took so long, I’ve been super tired all day and I wanted to get this right. I hope my terminology isn’t too “ye olde England”. I couldn’t find anywhere what the proper terms were for some things so I hope it’s still enjoyed! – Admin Jade
*Warning for violence in the beginning because gladiatorial fights*
The roar of the crowd would be deafening if Iwaizumi paid it any mind but his focus is one hundred percent on his opponents; they don’t stand a chance. To his left are two of them, to his right one but judging by his blood loss thus far, he maybe has one swing left in him and it won’t be a good one. Around him lie the strewn bodies of fallen warriors, their weapons caked with mud born of blood. Shifting his gaze, Iwaizumi sees his advantage. In seemingly effortless movement, he rushes the temporary alliance, bellowing out a cry that momentarily freezes them, their shields rising just as he knew they would for his feet to land upon providing a launching pad to jump over them.
Before they realize what’s happened, he’s landed behind them, sword slicing cleaning through both their backs in one slash.
Blood erupts as if from a fountain, pulling gasps of amazement and cries of excitement from the spectators. The men fall to their knees, gasping for breath despite the damage to their lungs. Mercifully, Iwaizumi pulls two daggers from nearby bodies and plunges them into their backs straight through their hearts ending the torture of drowning in their own blood.
Ahead of him, he can see the last who remains an obstacle to his absolute victory. It’s true, he hasn’t killed all who lay fallen, but the point stands that he could have. His eyes are hard, determination resolute, he will not lose. As he steps forward, the man falls to his knees, perhaps to beg for mercy, perhaps because of fatigue. Iwaizumi will never know for he gives him no opportunity to disgrace himself as he wrenches from his latest kills one of the daggers and projects it perfectly into the man’s chest.
A look of awe comes over his face, followed by one of peace, almost a smile as he dies, the message clear in the language of the warrior, “Thank you.”
It’s pandemonium in the coliseum, both cheers and jeers being tossed upon his shoulders but Iwaizumi ignores it all. His eyes meet those of emperor Oikawa, the brown-haired male sitting idly with crossed legs, head leaned upon his fist, a small smile upon his lips.
Once again, his champion, has proven victorious.
It’s late, the tavern practically empty save for those staying in the rooms upstairs who’ve decided to have one last drink. The bathhouse attendant turned barmaid for the evening is exhausted, wiping sweat from her brow. Today had been a madhouse, people coming in from all around to witness the gladiatorial battles. For them, it meant a day in the hot sun which for her meant an evening of thirsty patrons whom she had need to serve in addition to her bathhouse duties since their regular maid was sick.
Sighing, she scrubs the sink, eager for her bed when a dull murmur draws her attention behind her. Turning, she gasps. Just inside the doorway stands a man covered in blood.
She rushes forward, hands outstretched. “Oh my goodness, are you ok? Do you need help?” Her voice is shrill, nerves plain but when he looks at her she stops dead in her tracks.
“The only thing I need is a drink,” he replies gruffly, absentmindedly wiping some of the mess from his face with the towel he wrenches from her hand.
It’s then she realizes; none of the blood is his. And that observation brings about the realization that he is one of the gladiators. The only remaining one of the day. A shiver shakes her spine, eyes wide and teeth almost chattering. She’s frozen in shock, unprepared to be standing in front of a person of such…power.
“So, are you the barmaid or what?” His question snaps her back to attention.
“Yes! Sorry, um, please….ah….”her voice is shaking, and he cocks an eyebrow.
“I’m not going to kill you, you know,” he grunts.
“What? Oh, right, yes, thank you, I mean, not…oh geez.” Could she be any more awkward? Taking a deep breath, she hurries to the bar, quickly pouring him a drink and bringing it back. He downs in one go, handing the mug back to her then turns to leave. “Wait! Um, would you…would you like to partake of the bathhouse?” He turns, sharp eyes fixed on her face and sweat erupts on her neck. “It’s traditionary for our humble tavern to offer our services to the winner of the games, if you would be so pleased to use them. I’ll prepare your bath right away, please, have a seat and enjoy another drink!”
Before Iwaizumi can protest, she’s served another glass to him and rushes from the room. His body settles into a chair as he gathers the glass and drinks again. Sometimes he wonders at himself, why does he feel this need to enter the mortal realm from time to time? Is it merely to remind himself of his godhood? No, it isn’t that. More often than not, it is to remind himself about who worships him, who gives him thanks for good crops and favorable outcomes in war.
And to meet women who are beautiful in their imperfections. Such as the one rushing back in to lead him to the bathhouse, the largest they have onsite for his personal use tonight. It’s almost as though she knows, he is no mere mortal. He heard that phrase tossed about him like a swarm of flies today, a tiny part of him feeling slightly guilty that his opponents quite literally stood no chance of winning.
But he pushes away the feeling, cursing the minimal amount of humanity that manifests when he takes human form. They were weak soldiers who’d abandoned their ranks, tried for treason, brought for judgement. And who better to judge those whose lives were dedicated to war, if not the god of war himself?
“Here you are, I hope it is to your liking.” Her voice breaks into his thoughts and he casts his eyes past her form to the large bath. Steam rises and curls against the coolness of the night air seeping in through slots in the walls, but overall the room is warm and inviting. Candles line the perimeter, their glow bouncing off the white stone encasing the pool.
“I’ll bring you some food, I’m sure you’re quite hungry,” she offers and when he does not protest she leaves to retrieve fruit, nuts and bread, hoping against hope to find some sort of meat that isn’t too dry.
Iwaizumi stretches before setting down his weapon near the edge of the pool. God of war or not, it would not do well to be found ill prepared.
As she rushes back, the maid takes another deep breath. This male, he’s so…visceral! It’s as though he emits an aura of power unfelt by her from any other man she’s ever met. And he’s so handsome! Even covered in blood, she couldn’t help appreciating the strong line of his jaw, the sharp focus of his gaze, the-
She almost drops her burden upon entry to the bath. He’s stripped completely bare, readying himself to enter the water. Her throat constricts as her eyes drink in the ripple of muscles highlighted by the dancing flames surrounding them, his skin bronze and somehow smooth looking despite the caked-on dust, mud and blood. His foot breaks the tension of the water, a slight hiss emitting due to its heat. Blinking rapidly, with cheeks flushed crimson, she wonders if it’s too late to back out, to allow him privacy (worthless as it is given the clarity of the water) and come back in once she knows he’s ensconced in the water.
“If you’re going to stare, could you at least bring the food? I am rather hungry,” he drawls, looking over his shoulder at her as he descends fully into the bath.
“I…I…I’m sorry! Sir, forgive me for my disrespect, I-“
“Don’t fret about trivial issues. Besides, a man would be a fool to refuse the admiration of a lovely woman,” he interjects scrubbing himself quickly, eager to lose the stench of death from his skin. She must be dreaming because he’s smiling. Faintly, but still, his lips are tilted up just enough to make it present.
“Thank you,” she breathes, finally finding strength to step closer to the edge. Placing down the tray, she makes way to leave but his voice stills her once more.
“Perhaps, if you are not too busy, you wouldn’t mind assisting me to eat?”
Heart slamming against her ribcage, the maiden turns, eyes wide. “You…you wish me to stay?”
“Well, I can’t very well partake of the food with hands wet by essence filled water and dirtied by cleaning,” he chides. His tone may still be teasing, but the look in his eyes dares her to deny his wishes. This, she knows, is not part of her job, but she’s unsure if she could properly refuse. More so, she realizes, she doesn’t want to. Perhaps his aura is not just of a fighter against flesh and blood, perhaps he’s…possibly…seducing her? Does she dare to hope that someone so perfectly built, so handsome he’s almost beautiful would want her? He did call her lovely just a moment ago and-
“You have a habit of getting lost in your own mind, don’t you?” he asks, leaning against crossed arms on the edge of the pool. The oils have done their job, clumping the muck to the surface where the drains around the edges suck it down, leaving the pool gleaming once more, all evidence of his endeavors for the day washed away.
His proximity startles her, making her lose her footing. With a squeal, she trips over the long edge of her chiton, toppling backwards into the water sending waves rippling to the pools edges. As she rises, gasping for breath, it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to lose his.
The sheerness of her drenched gown leaves little to the imagination, the material clinging to pert nipples, breasts fully encased by the material clinging to her. He thought her pretty before, a nice face with good features, her hair, now ruined, formerly styled in a popular fashion for the day. But somehow, vulnerable, he thinks her ravishing.
Mortified for her blunder, the maid struggles to stand, apologies pouring from her lips. Strong hands upon her shoulders still the words on her tongue, her eyes locking with Iwaizumi’s. Oh gods, he’s naked! He’s naked and touching her while she is nearly the same thanks to the flimsiness of her attire. Her hands clutch his biceps, fingers kneading unconsciously against the taut muscles found beneath her pads and she gulps.
Iwaizumi knows what he wants, knows what he can take, but he waits, his gaze boring into hers. In what feels like forever and a moment at the same time, she leans ever so slightly into his hold and he takes it as his opening. One hand shoots behind her head, drawing her into a deep kiss. She moans against the feel of his tongue dancing with hers, sending fire raging through his body to his cock, firming him fully in an instant. He wastes no time, effortlessly tearing her garment and flinging it away.
Her mouth falls open in a cry as his lips descend to her neck, hands roaming from her waist to cup her breasts, thumbs tracing slow circles against her nipples. She gasps, hips bucking up though the movement is slower thanks to the water. Iwaizumi slides his hands around to her back, kneading her flesh as hers do the same to his arms, the feel of his strong shoulders making her knees weak.
“You…your arms,” she pants, “your arms are, so…amazing.”
He grins against her skin, nipping her shoulder. “Thank you, maiden,” he whispers against her ear. “Would you like these arms to bring you pleasure?”
“If it pleases, my lord, then yes,” she returns.
“Oh, it pleases me,” he growls, his hips thrusting forward to graze the tip of his cock against her now aching core, “it will please me greatly to have you, maiden.” He kisses the nape of her neck, trailing down to her shoulders, tasting flesh as he goes. She still smells faintly of stale ale and sweat but the scent somehow appeals to him. Fingers digging into her flesh, he appreciates the wealth of mass he finds; he likes something to hold on to.
The feel of his body pressed to hers is heavenly, but as her conscious mind descends briefly, she wonders at his want of her. She’s nothing special, a mere maid in a bar, too plain for the likes of someone so ethereal. When she expresses these thoughts to him he laughs.
“Perfection is overrated, trust me I’ve had it, I want you,” he affirms, mouth sealing over her breast and she arches fully into his embrace. “Do you wish to know, who it is you’re giving yourself to?” he asks, mouth sucking the soft flesh of her belly from where he’s propped her on the edge of the pool, his body pressed between her legs.
She nods, eyes widening as he reveals his true nature. His body glows, casting the candles into shadow, the gleam of his skin almost blinding. As the light fades, his eyes meet hers once more. “Do you know who I am?” he asks.
“Mars,” she whispers.
“Very good, but here you need call me Iwaizumi, or rather, Hajime” he praises, then resumes suckling her thighs, teeth creating deep crevice marks in her skin. She hisses, a mixed sound of pleasure and pain as he marks her thoroughly, taking his time, consuming her. His tongue against the mounds of her center has her squealing, body leaned against her elbows as she watches him enjoy her. Iwaizumi rolls his tongue languidly over her, drinking the nectar of her fruit and humming his approval of her taste. “You rival Venus in your flavor, maiden.”
“Do…do not speak…such lies,” she begs.
“I do not lie, I have no need of it,” he asserts, tugging her back into the water roughly. He flips her, pressing her chest against the stone wall, his cock sliding between the apex of her legs. “I’m going to take you now, as I see fit. Are you prepared…mortal?”
“Yes, Hajime.”
He slides in slowly, taking his time initially to allow her to gain opportunity to get use to his girth. Teeth almost biting through her lip, she takes him, allows him to taint her purity. Fullly seated, he holds her close, his tenderness surprising especially given who he is. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks one last time.
“Yes, please, please-“ her further begging is cut off with one hard thrust, the water rippling in response to Iwaizumi’s movements. Her fingers clasp the edge of the pool, voice raising in volume as he slams into her. His strength overpowers the normal resistance of the water, it’s slapping resounding in her ears as much as the roaring of her blood. Her blood feels like fire, throat raw from the efforts of breathing in the sweltering atmosphere and still he surges on, hips colliding with her ass.
“Hajime! Oh gods, I…Hajime!”
He doesn’t respond save to touch her clit with rough calloused fingers, rubbing firmly to send a wealth of sensation shooting through her nerves. Her head tosses back, catching against the firmness of his shoulder and he latches his lips to her neck once again, driving her higher while sating his own need.
Waves roll around them and she splutters as water cascades down her throat unexpectedly. Iwaizumi removes himself, swiftly jumping out of the pool with her in his arms to place upon her on hands and knees before sheathing himself once more. The smack of wet skin against wet skin echoes off the stone coupling with the still sloshing water till it’s all she can hear. She doesn’t even know how loud she’s screaming his name, the pleasure he’s imparting too good to care about decency.
How did she get so lucky? What did she do to earn the opportunity to literally be kissed by a god? To have her pleasure sought as much as he seeks his own? She marvels that the god of war could be so thorough a lover, so focused, so attentive to his partner, even when that partner is a mere mortal. She didn’t think it possible to fall in love in the midst of carnality and knows somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind it is foolish to even impart one step upon that road.
But as Iwaizumi slams into her, his grunts of praise penetrating to her consciousness, she doesn’t care. She’ll dedicate her life to him.
“Oh, oh gods, oh gods!” she shrieks clenching as release finally appears, sending her rolling down a hill, her mind spinning.
“Fuck,” Iwaizumi hisses, driving harder, smacking her ass, raking his nails on her skin. He’s marking her, tainting her, staining her as his. His own capitulation erupts deep in her body, sending a white, hot heat streaming into the very center of herself.
Unable to hold herself up, she collapses to the ground, the stone cool in comparison to the burn of her skin. In little time at all, she falls unconscious, unware of her surroundings any longer.
Months pass and Iwaizumi has of course returned to his own realm. She sighs while placing an offering at his alter. Some days, that night feels like a dream but she knows it was true.
It’s late evening again, the setting ironic in its similarity though this time instead of the tavern, Iwaizumi stands before the door of her home. He knocks and when she opens the door, his eyes are soft and warm as he takes in the look of surprise on her face. But as his trail downward, it’s his turn to be surprised.
He, the god of war, who’s felled enemies numbering in the tens of thousands, is brought to his knees by the sight of the woman he loves with her belly swelled by the seed of his offspring.
This was so good (as usual)!!! Also, make sure to get some well-deserved rest, hun! 😀
AU: What if the
Generation of Miracles met before junior high?
“Yes!” Aomine shouts
when another shot makes it in. He dribbles the ball making moves as though to
pass invisible opponents when he’s surprised to actually knock into something
solid. A startled gasp followed by a low groan alerts him to the fact whoever he
ran into is now on the ground. Looking down, he’s surprised to see a shock of
blue hair followed by bright blue eyes when the boy he knocked over looks up at
him.
“Oi, sorry ‘bout that,”
Aomine says with a sheepish grin, “I didn’t see you.” He extends a tanned hand
which is taken by the smaller boy.
“It’s ok, that happens
to me all the time,” he replies as he stands.
Aomine is confused on
how someone who was literally right in front of him could just disappear but he
opts to forgo further investigation in favor of recruiting a player so he’s not
alone. “Well, since you’re here anyway, wanna play?” he asks tossing the ball
in his hand up and catching it on the tip of his finger.
The smaller boy nods
softly. “Great!” Aomine exclaims, then almost as an afterthought asks, “What’s
your name?”
“Kuroko Tetsuya,” is the
reply.
Aomine sticks out his
hand again, shaking the other’s. “Nice to meet you, I’m Aomine Daiki!”
The two play a bit of
one on one though Kuroko struggles to do anything even remotely right. But
instead of being frustrated, Aomine finds himself welcoming the challenge of
teaching someone something. As Kuroko takes another shot that hits the rim
sending the ball backwards to the other end of court, Aomine instructs, “Ok,
you need to hold the ball a bit different. I think you’re putting too much spin
on it.”
Kuroko nods and is about
to turn to retrieve the ball when both boys are startled by it sailing over
their heads and clearing through the hoop with a faint whoosh. Turning around, their eyes land on a green haired
bespectacled boy who’s just as tall as Aomine.
“Wait a second,” the
dark blue haired boy says, “did you make that shot from there?”
The boy nods and Aomine
rushes to him. “That was awesome! Do you want to play?”
At first it looks like
the newcomer is going to decline but the slight gleam in his eyes gives away
the fact that he really does want to join in. So, he nods in affirmation,
following Aomine back to the free throw line where he introduces himself:
Midorima Shintaro.
“Maybe you can help this
guy,” Aomine says flicking a thumb towards Kuroko.
“I highly doubt it,”
mumbles Midorima.
“Hey! Do you guys need
another player?” a shrill voice cries out.
The three on the court
turn their heads bringing into their line of sight an enthusiastic looking
blonde gripping the chain-link fence set around the basketball courts.
“Yeah!” Aomine responds
with a flick of his wrist.
The boy lets loose a
yelp of happiness, rushing to the gate and over to where they stand.
“I’m Kise Ryouta, what
are your names?” he asks excitedly.
After introductions,
it’s decided to have Aomine and Kuroko play against Kise and Midorima. The game
is a bit one sided to the half of the blonde and green haired boys, mostly
because Kuroko has a really hard time keeping up with the running. But Aomine
doesn’t really care since he finally has some people to play with.
Eventually the quad of
boys decides to take a break, mostly so Kuroko can catch his breath.
“Sorry,” he pants
heavily, wiping sweat from his brow, “I just don’t have a lot of stamina.”
“It’s fine,” Aomine says
quickly, “we’re just having fun you know?”
“Care to add two more to
your game?” a voice says from behind.
The four players look
over their shoulders, eyes widening a bit at the sight of a huge purple haired boy standing next to
a shorter red head. It must have been the latter who spoke since the former’s
mouth is full of chips that he crunches.
“Sure,” Aomine answers
standing up. “Who are you guys?”
“I’m Akashi Seijuro and
this is Murasakibara Atsushi, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance…”
“Aomine,” he replies
pointing to the other boys as he introduces them.
Akashi smiles softly,
looking up at his tall companion. “Come on, Murasakibara, put down your chips
and let’s play.”
The purple giant
grumbles but does as instructed, brushing crumbs from his t-shirt as he walks
onto the court. He joins Kise and Midorima while Akashi is with Kuroko and
Aomine. With another player able to score on their team, the blue haired boys
start to close the gap in points between themselves and their opponents.
Akashi, after watching
Kuroko for a while, calls a time out and draws him aside. “Kuroko, I think it
would be better if you focused on passing more. Dribbling is not your strong
suit and your shots are making it harder for us because we have to get their
rebounds,” he says but with a gentleness that takes the sting out of the truth
of his words. Kuroko nods feebly, heading back to where the rest of the boys
stand waiting for them.
After the first pass, he
feels his heart lighten up a bit; he just may be good at something after all.
The six boys play until
almost sun down, each promising to return the following Saturday to play again
and bring someone else if they can so it can be more like a real game. As
Aomine makes his way home, his smile is bright and wide. He really loves this
game and it’s been a lot of fun getting to play with other boys who, while
maybe are not as good as him, take away the loneliness of playing by himself.
He thinks as he bounces
the ball in his hand, “I hope we all end
up at the same school in junior high, we could really dominate if we do!”
Thank you for the congratulations and the request! Officer
Aomine is a popular one! I don’t think I followed the letter of the song
entirely because the rumor part is so small but I feel good about what I came
up with and think it is within the spirit of the song. If it’s so off the mark
you want me to try again, please let me know, but I hope you enjoy this!
“The one with the pink hair? I have no idea! Maybe an old
girlfriend?”
“Or a new one if the rumors about him are true. Really, I
thought he’d turned over a new leaf since marrying his wife but I guess people
never really change.”
“It’s just a shame because she’s so sweet…”
The voices of the two women fade to white noise as you hold
a shaking coffee cup in your hand. Thanks to the high backs of the booth in the
diner, they’d no idea you were able to hear their conversation. Not that you
were one to listen in on other people, but being alone you had nothing to
distract you and hearing your husband’s name of course caught your attention.
Now, you weren’t sure if you were glad to hear this or not. The phrase “ignorance
is bliss” wasn’t coined for no good reason.
They rise and walk out, still not noticing that one of the
subjects of their gossip is sitting with tears rolling down her face as they
continue their mindless chatter.
You sit there for a long time, staring into space as you go
over the last couple months in your mind. Daiki has been busy, picking up
extra shifts (or so he says) because he wants to make sergeant and with the
heavy competition within the department he needs to put in all the work he can.
But now you’re second guessing him, wondering if perhaps he’s
been lying to you this whole time. When you started dating Aomine after
college, some catty girls who never got past high school warned you that he
wouldn’t be faithful, that his sex drive was too high for one woman to satisfy.
Granted, you knew Aomine was a considerable horn dog, but it was just in his
nature being an alpha male. One year into the academy, he was working his ass
off to earn his stripes. When they’d tried to tell you more, you’d stopped
them. Regardless of how he was in the past, Aomine for the most part treated
you with respect and really cared about you.
So you continued dating for two years and at his graduation
from the academy he proposed.
That was five years ago and you’d never been happier; until
now.
You shake your head, standing up and tossing a tip on the
table as you make your way outside. It’s raining, but you can be bothered with
your umbrella. In times of reflection, you’ve found it soothing to walk beneath
the patter of water, symbolically cleansing your mind so you can think more
clearly. But the pounding of the drops and the claps of thunder only add to the
turmoil burning in your soul. It increases tenfold when you reach the substation
only to see your husband with his arms wrapped around a woman with pink hair
who, when she turns, you can see is pregnant.
A startled cry escapes your lips, but is drowned in the
sound of the downpour. You whole body is shaking, not from cold but from anger
and sadness; how could he be so blatant about his betrayal, standing in front
of the very place where all your friends reside because everyone knows a cop’s
life, and that of his wife, is so centered around their job there is no getting
away from it.
In a blind fury, you race away into the night, stumbling on
the slick ground where you cut up your knees pretty badly but you don’t feel
it, not with the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You don’t know
how long you run, but it feels like forever. By the time you stop, you’re
somewhere you don’t recognize and realize with horror that when you fell you’d
dropped your purse which held your cell phone.
Crouching under a stairwell, body trembling from the cold, you
settle your head against your knees and cry until your eyes hold no more
tears. Time passes by slowly and you know you should get up and go home but you
simply don’t have the energy to try, don’t have the guts to face Daiki and what
he’s done. Was that why they were at the station? To show off what you struggled
to give him? Doesn’t he understand how much you love him? How much you were
willing to give up for him?
Drifting in and out of sleepy consciousness, your head
settles against the bricks behind you. Eventually, you fall prey to the lull of
sleep, body soaked to the bone and just not caring what happens to you anymore.
Warmth surrounds you and you wonder if you’ve left the
earthly plane for another. As you rouse, trying to open your eyes, you hear a
voice calling your name. It’s gravelly, laced with what seems to be pain and
worry but it can’t be who you think it is because he never shows those
emotions, never allows himself to appear weak in front of anyone, including
you.
But when you open your eyes, it’s to find Daiki leaning over
you, his hand holding one of yours while his other strokes the top of your
head. When you reach a full state of consciousness, you see his brow furrow and
there’s your Daiki.
“________, what the hell were you thinking? Do you know how
worried I was?”
“Officer Aomine, please-“begins the doctor but there’s no
stopping your husband once he gets going.
“I thought you were dead! And you could have been, you know,
with where they found you! Thank god Izuki has that damn eagle like vision
otherwise there’s no telling how long it could have been before you were found!”
Struggling to find your voice, you finally croak out, “What
do you care? You’ve got someone else now anyway.”
His body goes completely still, face the picture of shocked incredulity.
“What did you just say?” he says darkly.
You cough, taking a sip of water to coat your dry throat
before asking, “Why…why didn’t you tell me, you were so unhappy? Why did you have
to betray me like that?”
Aomine’s anger melts away to full blown confusion. He takes
your hand, squeezing it so you can’t let go and bores his gaze into your eyes. “I
have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, so either you’re delirious from
your fever or someone has been filling your head with absolute bullshit!”
“I saw you with her, Daiki!” you shout suddenly and the
whole room stills in the wake of your revelation.
Aomine wracks his brain, trying desperately to make sense of
what you’re saying. Then, as comprehension dawns, he starts to chuckle. Then he’s
doubled over in laughter, eyes watering. Your hands clench in tight fists and you
wish you had the strength to slug him a good one.
He works to compose himself quickly, wiping his eyes before
looking back into yours. Cupping your face with his large hands, the feel of
him hot against your skin, he says, “The “her” you’re referring to is one of my
oldest friends, Satsuki Kuroko.”
“Your…friend?” you ask weakly.
He nods, kissing your forehead and murmuring against your
skin, “Yes, my precious idiot. She and I grew up together, went to high school
together. We parted ways in college and she ended up going to the same school
as my best friend, Tetsu. They got married about a year ago and are having a
kid.”
“Well, if that’s true, where was he?” you counter.
“She’s here on business, decided to drop by and surprise me
because she always knows everything about everyone.”
“Why wasn’t she at our wedding if she’s such a good friend?”
“When I told her the date of it, she let me know she couldn’t
make it,” he supplies.
“Daiki, why didn’t you ever tell me about her?”
He shrugs. “I don’t talk about my past because I’m not that
proud of it. We moved on and grew up and have our own lives. But that doesn’t
mean we forgot about each other.” He kisses your lips, seeming to breathe life
back into your soul. “I wasn’t hiding her, she’s just…more of memory now.”
A choked sob pulls from your chest as you fling your arms
around Daiki’s neck. “I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t trust you! That
I worried you over nothing, that I-“
He kisses you again, more hotly, more passionately and you
can’t stop a moan from coming up in your throat. As he pulls away, he nips your
bottom lip. “I’ll forgive you…after giving you a proper punishment when you’re
all better.”
Suddenly, you feel quite warm again, but know it has nothing
to do with your fever.
This is a great song! I love the Final Fantasy series and of
course am a huge fan of its music. I really hope this hits the mark for what
you wanted. Thank you for requesting Kasamatsu, he is one of my absolute
favorite characters!
As you take the stage, your eyes roam over the room taking in
the sight of customers sat comfortably in arm chairs or at tables, conversation
murmured as drinks are consumed. Smoke curls up from hand rolled cigarettes and
long stem pipes, the smell of tobacco thick but not unpleasantly so. But
despite the warm familiarity of this place, you’ve begun to feel restless, like
there’s something more you’re supposed to be doing with your life. And so,
tonight will be your last performance, though no one knows that but you.
My last night here for
you
Same old songs, just
once more
My last night here
with you?
Maybe yes, maybe no
The music begins and you take a deep breath, noting heads
turning their attention to you as you begin to sing but your eyes don’t really
see them, wandering to a man who has been coming here for a little time. He
sits cast in shadow but even without his crest and uniform, you know he’s the
same one though his garb is different now. Normally he’d be cladded in blue and
white splendor, a captain’s crest at the shoulder clasp of his cape. But tonight,
he’s opted for darker shades, greys and black settling against him to blend him
into the back ground or at least that’s his attempt. But he’s caught your attention
on more than one occasion and you can’t keep your eyes from his form. There’s
something about him that draws you in.
He barely ever looks at you, casting glances every so often
you think but it’s hard to tell when his face is shrouded in the dark. A drink
is usually with him, small and light but it acts as his place holder, a reason
for him to sit as long as he likes without distraction or input from those
around him. Previously to this evening, he’s been flanked by members of the
royal guard but tonight he’s come alone.
I saw you smiling at
me
Was it real, or just
my fantasy?
You’d always be there
in the corner
Of this tiny little
bar
Your song continues on, your mouth and vocal chords acting
on auto pilot and you’re trying to focus on the whole room but your eyes
continually flick to his position. He hasn’t moved, just stares at his glass in
deep contemplation. The lighting of a lamp above his head casts a sudden light
upon his countenance and you have to stop yourself from gasping; there’s
something about the expression on his face that pulls your heart strings
violently.
Darling, so there you
are
With that look on your
face
As if you’re never
hurt
As if you’re never
down
Shall I be the one for
you
Who pinches you softly
but sure?
If frown is shown,
then
I will know that you
are no dreamer
An unexpected pain shoots through you and you have to
stop yourself from walking over in the middle of your performance. Suddenly the
words aren’t coming easy and you have to work hard to finish what you’ve
started. At your faltered, a little off note that you quickly recover, you see
his head finally lift and his eyes set on you. It’s the longest he’s looked at
you, but now you’re too shy to return the gaze, embarrassed that it’s your
mistake which has drawn his full attention.
I kind of liked it
your way
How you shyly placed
your eyes on me
Did you ever know
That I had mine on
you?
You look away, smiling brightly though the melody of your
song is melancholy.
When it ends, you take your bow quickly, shooting back up
only to catch a glimpse of him exiting through the side door. With hurried
movements, you hustle after him, the need to speak to him too strong to ignore
any more.
Bursting out the door, you see him just about to mount his
steed and call out, “Wait, please wait!”
He starts, turning his attention to you even as his boot
remains set in the stirrup. Slowly he places it down, but maintains a hold on
the reigns of his beautiful white horse.
“Yes, may I help you?” he asks. His voice is rough and deep
but somehow soothing to your ears.
“Please, may I know your name?” you inquire.
His eyes widen, a faint flush overtaking his hue
unexpectedly but he clears his throat and replies, “Yukio Kasamatsu.”
“You…you’re the captain of the royal guard, are you not?”
you breathe.
His body stiffens, eyes closing as if in momentary pain but
he rallies quickly, setting his face back to its grim expression so quickly
you begin to wonder if you imagined his reaction. Brusquely he says, “Former, m’lady.”
The pain in your heart returns, deep and tragic and you
blush as the impulse to hold him floods your person. Despite his impassivity,
you feel waves of pain and frustration rolling from him increasing your want to
drive it away but you don’t know how to. You don’t even know him and yet you’re
here, standing outside in the middle of the night wanting nothing more than to
throw your arms around him.
You settle for stepping nearer. His body is still wound
tight and if you did not know any better you would say he may even be wary of
you. The placement of your hand on his makes him flinch but as you close your
fingers more firmly he does not withdraw.
“Why?” One word, but so bold. This is none of your business!
What happened to the filter between your brain and your mouth?
He swallows once, eyes burning into yours and you feel your
face heating up under the power of his scrutiny. “Because there’s something I
need to do.”
You clench tighter, moving closer to place your other hand against
his chest. Despite his warmth you feel him tremble, the beating of his heart somewhat
erratic and you don’t know if it’s from you or from the knowledge of what’s
lying before him on his journey.
So let me come to you
Close as I want to be
Close enough for me
To feel your heart
beating fast
And stay there as I
whisper
How I love your
peaceful eyes on me
Did you ever know
That I had mine on
you?
The next words tumble from your mouth with little care for
the implications or consequences. “Take me with you.”
Yukio’s eyes go wide and for the first time he allows
himself to touch you. The grip of his hand on your shoulder is strong and you doubt
he knows how firmly he’s squeezing but you endure the pain because until now
you’d not known the need of his touch. To lose it will mean more pain than what
you experience under the pressure of his hold.
“Why?”
“Because this is something I need to do,” you whisper, eyes
filling with tears for reasons you don’t understand.
Yukio stares hard at you. He knows this is a bad idea, you’ll
most likely only become a liability but he can’t tear away from your gaze. It’s
like you have him hypnotized and he wonders briefly if you may be a sorceress.
He makes a decision. “You’ll need to change, where I’m going
is no place for this refinery,” he intones, tugging briefly at the sleeve of
your dress.
A smile, genuine this time, splits your lips and you lean
forward impulsively kissing his cheek. Crimson floods his face but you’re
already turning away to prepare for departure. In little time you return, ensconced
in black pants, purple long sleeve shirt and proper riding boots, a bow and
arrow slung over your shoulder and quiver upon your back.
Yukio’s face betrays his surprise at your appearance.
Darling, so share with
me
Your love if you have
enough
Your tears if you’re
holding back
Or pain if that’s what
it is
How can I let you know
I’m more than the
dress and the voice
Just reach me out,
then
You will know that you
are not dreaming
“What, did you think all I could do is sing?” you ask
cheekily and he chuckles.
“Forgive my ignorance…” he trails off, and you supply, “F/N,
L/N, daughter of the town fletcher.”
In a quick motion, Yukio mounts his horse, hand coming down
to assist you to do as well. You take it, the flesh of his palm burning into
yours but the fire ignites something deep within your soul and you know; this
is who you’re meant to be with going to do what you’re meant to do, whatever
that may be.
I’m sorry, I got lazy so I just did Midorima! You’re free to request Takao separately if you’d like~
Your nose scrunched up at the sight of the tall male, “What are you doing in here?”
It wasn’t that you hated him; he was your soulmate. But you were an artist, being around him was dangerous enough— once a person is near their soulmate, they lose the sight of colors. Unless you kiss them they’ll come back once they’re out of your sight though.
“My lucky item is paint today, I had none at home and they ran out in the store,” he made up an excuse, looking at your painting with scrunched eyes as he tried to guess what colors graced the canvas. It took him a moment to notice that you were already holding out a tube of acrylic paint for him.
He accepted it with a sigh, placing it by his side as he took the seat next to you, “How long do you plan on avoiding me?”
He noticed the tension rising in the room as you placed down your brush, swirling it inside its cup, “Forever? I can’t afford losing the ability to see colors, I’m an artist! I don’t even know you well enough to tell whether or not I’d even consider throwing away the only thing that makes me good at what I am.”
“Unless we kiss, you won’t lose your ability to see colors,” he commented, shifting slightly before he adjusted his glasses by pushing them up the bridge of his nose, “I won’t force you into anything. We’ve known about this since high school and we’re adults now. All I’m asking for is a chance.”
Your hand went out for your neck as you began massaging it, “Why, do you like me that much that you’re willing to come to my store and beg for me?”
The green haired male’s cheeks turned a scarlet shade as he denied it straight away, “I merely needed my lucky item. The fact that I had a bone to pick with you because my mother forced me to do it is simply a nuisance along the way.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Your mom made you? And I’m supposed to believe that? Honestly, you don’t seem worth my colors.”
With his brows raised in shock and his mouth slightly agape, the male remained speechless.
“I’ll show you just how worthy I am if you give me a chance, (Last name)-san,” his voice dropped for an octave as he leaned in, grasping your chin gently. Thank the heavens that neither of you could see colors at that point because you had both turned into tomatoes.
“Alright, one chance,” you muttered, moving his hand away as you hoped that he couldn’t hear your raging heartbeat. You passed him your visit card, scooting him out of the store, “Don’t blow it. Now please leave, I really have to finish that painting.”
As dumbfolded as he was, the male just shook his head, glancing at the card that you gave him. He has liked you since high school; he attended every exhibition you ever had, he had seen you smiling and he had seen you crying. You were best friends before you hit the delicate age of 18. That’s when you started avoiding him to the best of your ability; that’s when you started losing the sight of colors whenever you’d see him.
“You’re making this difficult for me, Shin-chan,” he remembered you crying, “I care about you, but art is my passion. I’m not ready to throw it away this early on, I don’t want to live wondering what could have happened had I pursued my dream.”
“I understand; I’ll wait for you. I’ll never force you into anything you don’t want me to.”
Since he was 18 he made sure to remain close to you, he wanted you to remember what you once felt for him. He wanted you to remember it because he never forgot- you were both 27 years old now and he wanted to know if he was truly barking up the wrong tree.
He buried his face in his palms; how could it be the wrong tree when it’s you?
The date night finally came and it was everything that he hoped for. You looked stunning, not a single trace of paint on you as your cheeks practically radiated warmth. He had no place to judge, he was probably even worse.
The conversations started off as random bickering, sarcastic comments and eye rolls but they ended with fond memories of your high school days. You made it a goal for yourself that night to embarrass him as much as possible about the attitude he had back then.
He remembered laughing. He remembered laughing a lot.
The male woke up next morning, his lips curling upwards at the sight of your message. “You didn’t blow it.”
Ever since, you made sure to make time to meet up with him as often as possible. He started bringing you your lucky items just like he did when you were young. You’d protest and roll your eyes at him, but it didn’t stop the man.
Two years had passed and you became incredibly close with Midorima. However, that didn’t change the fact that you still avoided his advances like the black plague. You noticed how his eyes would glance away remorsefully whenever you’d flinch away. It made sense, you were being cruel.
At that point you were aware that he wasn’t bothered by the fact that you wouldn’t kiss him- it bothered him that your work was still more important to you than he was. He never mentioned it, he’d switch the topic and move on, but you knew.
Art was your first true love, it hurt you that you had to let it go.
You made a decision. One more exhibition. One more and you were done.
You wanted to keep it a surprise for him; you wanted to call him up to the stage and kiss him in front of the cameras at the opening. True, he’d probably kill you for putting him in such an embarrassing spot but you wanted the world to know that you were one and the same.
So you can imagine the fear washing you over upon having to drag his seemingly unconscious body to the shore as the moon acted as your only guide. The stupid giant was too proud to admit that he doesn’t know how to swim! He tried to go in as deep as possible while you were afar and it almost cost him his life!
“Shintarou, wake up!” you tried pressing onto his chest in hopes of getting him to open his eyes, “Don’t scare me like this, wake-up!”
You could feel tears streaming down your face as you felt your hands shaking.
You pressed your lips upon his, doing your best to perform mouth-to-mouth as adequately as possible.
You were scared, shaken and alone.
Wake up, wake up, wake up! Please, Shintarou! I’m begging you!
Finally, he opened his eyes and you heard the long-awaited coughing fit as you let out a sigh of relief.
You pulled him upwards, patting his back in order to help him get it all out, “You scared me! I almost lost you—I kept pressing your chest and you weren’t responding and then when I tried mouth to mouth you were still out cold! Do you—do you have any idea how scared I was?! Next time you don’t know something, tell me, we’re in this together, you prideful jerk!”
Midorima kept one of his arms wrapped around you, his eyes widened in shock.
“Mouth-to-mouth? You- (Name), you lost your—“ his voice was filled with sorrow and you knew he was going to start apologizing. Before he even had a chance to utter anything remotely similar to an apology, you slapped him before pulling him into a bone crushing hug, your form still shaking.
“I don’t care, stupid! The very fact that I could have lost you, even in theory, is much worse! Don’t you dare do this to me ever again!” you cried out, feeling his warm arms wrapping around you with a firm grasp as you finally felt safe.
The sea was gently crashing against the shore, your heartbeats were synced into one and you found yourself being able to calm down.
“I refuse to accept that out first kiss took place was while I was out cold; let me show you what a true kiss is,” the male growled before gently laying you down on the sand, his hands supporting him by your sides as he hovered above you.
“The ocean will get jealous of how wet I’ll get you.”
—— hit me up if you’d like a nsfw continuation 😉
I genuinely hope that this is alright because I’m not into the simple aus where they just have the same tattoo and they immediately fall in love once they figure that out. Feedback is appreciated, thanks for requesting~
Amazing!!!! Can I request you so NSFW continuation lol?
have I ever told y’all that i’m a complete sucker for soulmate aus?
He knew he was yours. It was something he couldn’t deny, but it was something that he would deny. For your sake.
Only heavens knew how much he wanted to let it out, how he wanted you to know that you were his as much as he was yours. Every day he’d picture a future in which he would have you in his arms as you would clutch onto him, knowing that there’s no one out there better suited for you than him.
“I find the concept stupid—if you convince yourself that they’re the person you’re meant to be with for the rest of your life, of course you will go through great lengths to make it work! It’s no destiny, it’s a placebo effect,” he felt his heart sink upon hearing you explain your beliefs. You didn’t believe in soulmates.
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that you end up caring about them, but I don’t want it to be like that for me. I want to fall for someone because of how they treat me and because I feel happy around them. I don’t want to feel obligated to love someone just because we have the same tattoo or birthmark. You get me?” you tilted your head, rubbing your forearm, feeling slightly uneasy due to his dull expression.
His throat was dry. He mumbled out a weak nod, “That’s really noble, (Name)-chan!”
You grinned shyly, “What about you? What is your take on soulmates?”
“I believe in them. To me, they are as real as the sun and the moon are,” he said, his voice firm even if your statement swayed the ground beneath him, “When the day comes and I meet them, I’ll make them the happiest person out there.”
“I hope you keep your promise, Oikawa-san.”
Tooru. Call me Tooru.
When the bell rang and you bid your goodbyes, he was left alone, his shoulders slumped and his heart heavy.
We don’t share a tattoo or a birthmark, (Name)-chan. We share our dreams.
It was rare, some people weren’t even aware of it, but he was certain. Whenever he’d come home, his muscles sore and his mind obsessed with the word success, your imagination would come through to him and he’d never feel more alive than when asleep.
You were what he needed; you were what he couldn’t imagine living without.
He waited every day for you to come up to him and tell him that you remember. That you remember your dreams, that you remember his presence, and above all, that you remember him. It never happened. It could be that you honestly didn’t know, but after having an insight into what you thought of the stories of the destined ones, he felt discouraged.
He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers.
It was rough, having to look at you, knowing what you feel and knowing that his heart is fighting against it.
“I’ve seen you cheering for us during the games,” the brunet commented with a wide grin, picking up his pace as he followed you to your next class, “Do you like volleyball?”
You released a hum, “In the beginning I was going because my friend dragged me over but then I got into it. Don’t you dare tell her, she’ll never get off my back.”
He mimicked locking his mouth with an invisible key as he put it into your palm, his smooth antics making you roll your eyes.
It was a start. That was all that mattered.
Soon enough, he had you coming down and congratulating him after every game they won. Exchanging flirty banters, shy looks and sly smiles. It was heaven.
But as it always was for him, time wasn’t on his side. It was his final game— but it wasn’t supposed to be! He was supposed to go and fight against Shiratorizawa, he was finally supposed to beat Ushijima! It all came crashing down on him in a game against Karasuno.
That day he didn’t wait around for you to come and greet him; he lost you as well. Your relationship had never turned into more than a game, and as it seemed, he was bound to lose all the games he held dearly to his heart.
He acted strong in front of his team. He pretended it didn’t matter in front of his parents. But he broke down in his dreams.
It started out as usual, your bright attitude took dominance over his emotions. It didn’t last long, the sun started setting and a storm followed in. Oikawa was sitting alone on the ground, not caring anymore—he’d usually hide from you but right now he didn’t care.
He wanted you to know what kind of a mess you were supposed to be tied to.
Hot tears streamed down his warm cheeks as he buried his face in his palms, sobbing loud enough for it to be mistaken for the thunder. Suddenly he felt a warm palm pressed against his back. It didn’t last long, instead it was wrapped around his shoulders as he felt himself being pulled into someone’s chest, their cold hand patting his hair.
“It will be alright, Tooru. You were great out there!”
Your voice caused him to stiffen. Tooru, you called him Tooru.
He remained silent as he merely wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you in as close as possible in fear of having you disappear. You were going to forget this dream anyway. He wanted to hold you just this once.
“Let me take control of this dream, please. I don’t want you catching a cold even if it’s not real, I nearly had a heart attack when your knee was hurt,” you said, never once pulling away or ceasing to pat his hair.
“You- you know this is a dream?!” came out his shocked reply. His emotions were all over the place as they were, was it really smart to toy around with him while he was in such a state?
“Iwaizumi told me. I was desperately trying to find you after the game but you were nowhere in sight. I did have a hunch though, I’d always notice your presence even if you kept yourself hidden,” you replied, your grin wide as you started wiping away his tears with your thumb. It started out as a matter of comforting him but soon enough you found yourself cupping his face as you gazed lovingly into his brown eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” the brunet whispered, cupping your face as well. This was hard to believe for him. It was—it was real?
“Oh, yes, imagine me coming up to the one and only Oikawa Tooru and being all like, yeah, I’m pretty sure that we share our dreams and that we are soulmates. How ya doin?” you rolled your eyes, your cheeks turning pink once the realization regarding your proximity to the male’s face hit you, “Besides, I didn’t know it was a shared dream anyways, I never saw you. I just felt you.”
His lip curled upwards as his dull gaze turned playful, “Well you’re about to feel me some more.”
That was all he said before he crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss truly represented the longing he felt for you for more than a year now—he thought it was over, he thought his time was up!
Even though you were fiercely kissing him back he suddenly stopped, pulling away quickly, “I’m- I’m sorry, I forgot that you don’t believe in soulmates.”
Your brow quirked upwards as you pulled him in once more, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. They’re as real as the sun and the moon are to me.”
It was a lie, you were still hesitant about the concept of them. But you fell for him, fair and square. He was kind, he made you happy and every day brought something new along the way. Call it a placebo, call it a soulmate, but you were glad that it was him.
Brilliant!! So, so good! I strive to be able to put this level of detail and emotion into concise words (my “drabbles” and scenarios always end up hella long lol). Go send a color and a character (no character ships, these are reader inserts only).
Ok, I have no idea if this is what you were hoping for
because it’s kind of open ended but nevertheless I hope you enjoy! WARNING
mention of deaths for beloved characters (briefly but still fair warning). Nothing
overtly graphic.
The incessant banging on the gym door should have been a
clue that all is not right. Casting a glance at Kuroo, the tall bed head
captain being the last to leave with you after practice, you stride to the door
and open it. Standing before you is Yamamoto, his head hung, grasping the
side of the building.
“Yamamoto-san?” you ask reaching forward to touch him but
when he whips his head up you scream.
The sound of your terror draws Kuroo’s attention back to
you, his eyes widening as he watches you back away from the second-year ace. He
can see, even from this distance, something is terribly wrong. Yamamoto is
grunting, his voice a dry heave of sound and his neck…his neck has a huge gash
in it, blood trailing down.
As he reaches for you, Kuroo acts on instinct, tossing up a
ball and spiking it perfectly into his head making him fall over temporarily.
The impact makes you scream again but it does its job of
snapping you out of the horror haze his dead eyes held you in though you’re
still just standing there. In front of you, Kuroo can see more students, along
with some faculty, walking towards your location. It’s like all his wildest
nightmares coming true and he’s in fight or flight mode.
Surging forward, he shoves Yamamoto, or at least what used to be him, back into the courtyard,
slamming the door and bolting it. The pounding on the door echoes through the
large empty room and you cover your ears, crouching down to drown out the
sound, murmuring, “No, no, no…this isn’t real…wake up…wake up…wake up!” You’re
screaming the words now, overrun with panic but it all comes to a grinding halt
when you feel a sharp sting against your cheek.
Turning your face back to Kuroo, you can see he’s still got
his hand cross his body from slapping you. He drops to his knees, grabbing your
face between his hands and kisses your forehead swiftly. “I’m sorry, but you
can’t panic right now, we need to get to safety,” he says. Quickly, he stands
again, grabbing your hand and yanking you towards the door that leads to the
storage room where a ladder to the roof access point resides.
Grabbing his phone, Kuroo selects Kenma’s number.
“Kenma, where are you?”
“On the train, why?” asks the setter.
Briefly Kuroo recounts what happens and the noises he can
still hear outside as he shimmies up the ladder, pushing with all his might to
open the locked door. Casting a glance at you, he moves the phone away from his
ear to ask, “Do you have the key?”
“The key to what?” he hears Kenma ask as you shake your head
and he goes back to the conversation.
“Not you, y/n and I are trying to get to the roof. Don’t get
off the train, tell the engineer not to stop and just get the fuck out of here.
Something bad is going down and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Stop joking around Kuroo,” Kenma dead pans but winces when
Kuroo shouts in the phone.
“Do I sound like I’m fucking joking?”
“Well, yeah, because you usually do,” he replies.
“Here, talk to y/n while I try to get this damn door open,
maybe she can convince you.”
You take the phone, your shaky voice affirming everything
Kuroo just said to Kenma. But as you’re talking you hear the train call its
next stop, the doors opening and loud screams coming from all around Kenma.
“What the hel-“you hear then he shouts, his voice louder
than you’ve ever heard it.
“Kenma? Kenma?” you yell but it’s no use, in his haste to
get away from whatever is happening he must have dropped his phone because all
you can hear is a cacophony of noise consisting of shrieks of terror, a low
rumbling and curses from people as they are attacked.
You feel your stomach lurch when Kenma’s voice comes through
the fray, screaming out that he’s sorry and that he loves you both. The line
goes dead and you throw up into the mop pail. From above you hear Kuroo
breathing hard, both in exertion and emotion, knowing that you were an auditory
witness to his best friend’s death.
Finally, the door snaps open, a cool rush of night air
descending. Reaching down, Kuroo hauls you up the ladder, pulling you onto the
roof with him.
All around you can see others who have done the same, barricading
themselves on the roofs until some sort of help arrives; presuming any can. Kuroo
pulls the ladder up, dropping it to the ground and slams the door shut. With a
moment to breathe, to think, he collapses to his knees, screaming out in agony
at the loss of his friends and most likely his family. He’s seen the movies,
knows the odds and they aren’t good.
Kneeling beside him, you touch his back, startled when he
draws you into a fierce hug, face buried in your neck as you both cry. How can
any of this be real? Sniffling, Kuroo looks up, wiping his face on his shirt, a
new grim determination setting in his eyes.
“We’re going to survive, y/n,” he says lowly, hand cupping
your face. Overcome with emotion, he kisses you, whispering against your lips, “I
hate that it takes this for me to tell you I love you. How fucking cliche is that?
But it’s true and I’m not gonna let us die.”
You believe him, despite the sounds of screams surrounding
you, despite the very likelihood that you’re going to die on this roof top if
you can’t get food or water; you believe him. Because you have to believe in
something and the scheming captain is your best bet.
Clutching his shirt, you look in his eyes. “I know you won’t
and…I love you too.”
The distant sound of helicopters draws both your attention to
the sky and a flicker of hope arises in your heart; for now, you can get away
from here and everything else…you’ll just have to wait and see.
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