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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year

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Misattribution of Arousal | pt. 2

Fratboy!Peter Parker x gn!reader

Masterlist

Words: ~3k

Warnings: Let me know if I missed anything, but this can be read as a gn!reader. Gets suggestive. Kissing. Fluff

A/N: This is a continuation of this fic. Thank you for the love on the last part – Fratboy!Peter does something to me lol. Hope you like it!

Thanks as always for reading!! Love to hear your thoughts (and thots) <3

It’s not long before you’re leaving a spot open next to you for Peter when he rushes into class a few minutes late. Though you didn’t sit near the back before, you did now so he could easily slip in the seat to your left without disturbing too many others

And so that you could laugh at his little comments without the professor hearing

A little breathless as he removes his backpack, he asks, “What’d I miss?”

Wordlessly, you point to your notes for today’s lecture. The only thing you have written besides the date is “What’d I miss? - Peter” – already knowing what he’d ask

Peter stifles a laugh behind the back of his hand while a smile rises on your face. But any confidence you felt in that moment disappears as he grabs your pencil. His fingers brush against yours before writing something below your question

“You”

He whispers, “That was an easy answer”

With your face hot, you still stare forward, pretending to focus on whatever the professor’s saying. But the heavy weight of his gaze drags down your resolve. To remedy the heat licking up your spine, you try to distract him

“Might be on the test,” you joke, a breathy laugh following your words

Though of course, you could sense the smirk rising to his lips, always winning this back and forth between you two

“Guess I’ll just have to study extra hard, then”

Any witty remark you could’ve had dies in your throat – couldn’t even look him in the eyes for the rest of class

Peter usually ends up taking pity on you in these moments, which much to your annoyance (and sometimes flattery) happens way too often. He’ll tone down the flirtiness and let you breathe before making some other remark that leaves you struggling to face him

One time, you joke that he gets off on it. He just laughs, letting the silence to your accusation speak for itself, which only fuels your overactive thoughts

Some days, you’re doodling in the top corner of your notebook, random shapes and lines – the occasional flower here and there

Those are Peter’s favorite because he’ll doodle his own flowers in between yours. Usually, by the end of class, he rips off the corner of the page and thanks you for the bouquet

He laughs it off, teasing you for not focusing in class or something, but you see the way he slips it into his folder for the class. So you eventually doodle flowers on your paper more often, sometimes on his too (when he actually bothers to open up his notebook)

And you’d go to his basketball games!!

You didn’t really have a reason to attend before besides general school spirit, but now…

Peter would invite you, quite unsure you’d even want to go – unsure he was a good enough reason to get you to come

But you did show up, bought popcorn and a drink, even subtly adding some of your school’s colors to your outfit

Part of you feels a little out of place in all this, but the look on Peter’s face when his eyes catch yours while jogging onto the court soothes any worries as you watch him

And boy do you watch him. The way he effortlessly gets around other players, how his arms flex when lining up his shot, the sweat slowly beading along his forehead keeps you from looking anywhere else the whole game. After he makes an impressive shot, sometimes his eyes will find yours with that annoyingly beautiful smile

After some games, he’d go back to his place to rest or go out to celebrate with his team. But other times, he’d search you out after exiting the locker room

You raise your hands to keep him from getting his sweat on you, but that just spurs him further – which you’re not too upset about because it means him trying to get you and keep you in his embrace. You’re laughing, trying to push him away but only half-heartedly as most of your mind is on the way his hard body presses against yours

Peter pulls away but only a little as he asks, “Wanna get ice cream?”

And you do. Anything to spend a minute longer with him. And something to cool yourself down

One day, it’s in the lulling silence between the two of you in the campus coffee shop that Peter asks you.

In between conversations, when neither of you have fought your words up your throat and out just yet, the silence had felt comfortable for a short time. In that brief window of time between friends and realizing that you’re actually starting to fall for him. But it’s different now, your nerves over-firing all the time around him, so this silence is like no other as of late: coursing into your muscles to keep you tense and nervous, even making you jump when Peter asks,

“Are you coming to my party on Friday?”

Your eyes blink up from the swirls of your drink to his, only beginning with “Um…” while your brain tries to catch up

You knew his frat house threw parties often, Peter leading most of them with wide arms and his usual grace. He’d mentioned you coming to them before but hasn’t ever asked outright. If how shocked you are by his bluntness rises to your face, he doesn’t acknowledge it. You liked Peter, being with him, but at a house of drunk people you didn’t know – that wasn’t exactly your element

As you balanced the decision back and forth in your head, he just watches, giving you an amused sort of look that doesn’t help your focus in any way. You hold your drink close to your body as you answer

“I don’t know, I might need to catch up on things – especially since someone’s been taking up plenty of my free time,” you pointedly say to him

In the short moment of him smiling, you think he might let you off the hook. But no

“C’mon, I can actually show you around the place. And you could meet my friends if you want”

Tilting your head, you ask, “Won’t you be busy hosting or… wanting to enjoy yourself and party?”

The laugh he lets out isn’t quite like one that follows something funny. More like he’s laughing at you for a bad joke. “I’d enjoy myself plenty just hanging out with you. Promise,” he says, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

That makes you giggle. “Were you even a boy scout, Peter?”

His body leans forward along the table, his hand coming up to ruffle his hair before resting his head on his fist. “If you come Friday, I’ll show you my patch collection”

Smacking his arm, you shake your head. “You do not have a boy scout patch collection in your frat house.” You’re sure his wide grin matches your own, and there’s no way you can say no to him, to anything he’d ask of you in that moment

“Okay,” you sigh, “but if you weren’t an Eagle Scout, then I’m going to be a little disappointed”

He whispers a soft “yes!” under his breath, leaning back in his chair. You roll your eyes at his cheering, earning a soft tap from his foot against your leg under the table

Your roommate, watching you unable to decide on what outfit to wear to this, helps you get ready. Something cute? Something revealing? Your roommate leans toward the latter, “Make him start drooling the second he sees you”

Compromising on something in between, you walk out the door into your campus’s night air hoping it’s good enough for… what?

With each step, you get closer to the house, passing other students dressed up for the night, you’re not sure what you’re trying to do. Impress him? Get him to kiss you? Not be too embarrassed to show you around at least…

Music grows louder as you near the frat house, seeing colorful lights stream out from the windows. Just as sneaking thoughts start worming their way through your mind second-guessing this whole thing, you spot him

Peter’s out in front of the house, leaning back against the wall, bobbing his head to the music and sipping from a cup. In the swaying shadows of the lights, he looks beautiful like this – and then he sees you

Instantly, everything about how he holds himself changes. Pushing off the wall, arms stretched wide with that electric smile, he walks toward you

You’re not sure whether you’re relieved that you won’t have to search through a sea of bodies to find him or dreading how nervous his intense gaze makes you

As the distance between you two dwindles, his eyes drag down your body, making you shrink a bit. Maybe it’s the outfit, but he’s like this with you all the time. It’s how he has to be to any girl here

Your hands clasp in front of you, your fingers picking at your nails. Perhaps Peter notices because he grabs your hand in his, sending your skin aflame with his hot touch, and brings it up

Dramatically, he holds it as he bows with a dumb smile, saying, “Welcome to my great estate”

Giggling and embarrassed, you weakly try to pull away, but he holds tight for a moment – like if you pull again, he’ll let you go in an instant. As if he’s asking if you really want to leave his touch

But you don’t so you let him hold your hand as you say, “Peter, you’re ridiculous. I’ve already been here before”

Shaking his head, he fake tsks at you. “Sweetheart…”

Oh my lord. What did he just call you? Wait, shit, he’s still talking

“That was the traditional Boy Scouts greeting, don’t go disrespecting it. And you haven’t been here in its prime time, so I’ll have to reacquaint the two of you”

All you can do is laugh, your mind too fuzzy to think of a good response when that pet name for you rolled off his lips so beautifully. Not that you were focused on his lips

The feeling of him squeezing your hand brings you back, your eyes focusing on the way his head tilts slightly at you, his gaze never leaving you

Clearing your throat, you finally manage to say, “Show me the way, then”

Peter shifts to the other side of you, and the way your stomach drops at the chance of him letting go of your hand shocks you, your heart thumping against your ribs. But he just moves your hand from one side to the other, entwining your fingers with his while walking through the door

You’d been to parties, have become acquainted with loud and stuffy places full of people you don’t know, but the sheer intensity of all that feels tenfold against your chest. You knew his fraternity was made up of a lot of basketball players, but the amount of towering men walking through has you feeling just as small again

For a split second, someone bumps into you, disconnecting your hand with Peter’s as swaying bodies swallow you farther away. Standing on the tips of your toes, you try finding him again, but you can barely see or hear anything

You’re left following the crowd, pushing through until you find the kitchen. Feeling sweat start to form along your skin, you find anything cold to drink, standing off to the side. Though the rest of you feels warm, the part of your skin that he touched feels just a bit colder without him next to you

In the corner, focusing on the people in front of you, you’re trying to calm your heartbeat. And hoping that Peter would somehow find you

Though with everyone so close and the music too loud to hear another person even if they were yelling next to you, you found it difficult to find peace

Not until you spot him once again

It’s his flopping blonde hair that you first see, recognizing the twisted strands of sunlight as they move toward you. Then his warm eyes as they scanned the crowd

You look next at that usual smile that had started feeling like a familiar comfort – like discovering your new favorite song you wanted to replay for hours on end – but he isn’t smiling

No, his mouth’s set into a straight line, his eyebrows drawn together as his head whips this way and that. Abrasive thoughts in the back of your head tell you not to, that he wasn’t really looking for you. But still, you raise your hand, hoping to grab his attention

And once his gaze finds you once again, a tightness visibly escapes him, loosening his shoulders as he pushes through to you, not letting anyone stop his momentum until the two of you are face to face

“There you are,” he yells, though it feels like a caressing whisper against your cheek

“Here I am,” you tell him, unable to hide away from his infectious smile that brings one to your own face

“Yeah,” he breathes out. You can only tell by reading his lips, but you find it hard to drag your eyes away from his mouth after that

Not until he asks, “You okay? You look a bit flushed”

Peter pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, checking your temperature with those worried creases adorning his face again. The sheer tenderness brings a shaky breath from your lungs

“Here, let’s go upstairs,” he says, eyebrows raised as he grabs your hand again, holding tighter than before

A pang of apprehension – of guilt – hits your chest. “Shouldn’t you be down here hosting and being with your friends?”

As soon as your question hits his ears, he gives you a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he leads you through the crowd once more. Every time he looks back, making sure you’re okay, a tang of butterflies swirling in your stomach starts up again

The misattribution of arousal theory isn’t lost on you in the moment, and you refuse to be confused like those people. Clearly, your bodily arousal is coming from the suffocating party rather than the handsome man glancing back at you with stars in his eyes

That same inner voice from before raises worries that every pair of eyes watching the two of you might be assuming that Peter Parker’s taking you up to his room, all alone, to make you another one of his one-night stands

But you feel the way his thumb rubs against your skin as you climb the stairs, feeling the callouses he brushes along the dips and curves of your hand – finding yourself unable to care too much about what they all think when he fits so right against you

Outside his door, he knocks a few times, ensuring no one else has snuck in to use it before pulling you inside. All the once deafening noises become muffled behind the closed door, in a world far away from the one you found yourself in with Peter

The clicking of the handle’s lock being pressed clangs through your body, making your eyes widen. Was this what he actually wanted from you? You chewed on your lip, debating the situation in your head in an instant

But once he looks at you, he explains with a sort of breathlessness you haven’t heard from him before. “I just didn’t want to have some drunk couple trying to get it on while we’re talking, I didn’t mean to imply…”

Seeing him as the one flustered for once, his cheeks flushed as he tries to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable brings a surge of something – pride, softness, pure happiness in this uninterrupted moment – to your chest

“Makes sense,” you say, sitting down on his bed, taking another sip of your drink to soothe an ache in your throat… trying to soothe the pulsing that Peter seems to pinprick your body with

“Want another drink?” he asks, gesturing his head to the cup you hold

“I’m okay.” You shake your head, a smile rising across your face. “I’ll have to pay you back for another drink then,” you joke

“You never had to pay me back for the first one,” he says, walking in long strides to sit next to you, the mattress dipping with his weight and pulling your body closer to his

A tightness creeps up your throat, unsure where this comes from as you say, “What excuse would I have had to see you then?” You hope the giddiness, your frayed nerves, don’t show on your face

But he’s staring so intently at you from only a few inches away that he has to notice. But he doesn’t point it out, only whispering, “Let me take you out, sweetheart”

If it weren’t for the dull beats of the music and shouting voices coming from below, you would worry that Peter could hear your heart hammering throughout your body or the hard swallow that scratches its way down

Maybe he does hear it because now he’s only a breath apart from you. Softly, you whisper, “Then we’d have to go on another date so I can repay you”

Still closer now, you’re able to pick out the shimmering specks of color adorning his eyes, and you’d spend as long as he’d allow committing each and every one to memory

Against your lips, he mutters, “Oh, wouldn’t that be a real shame”

You aren’t sure when your hand found its way to his hand pressed into the mattress next to your hip or when it creeped up to his forearm, but it seems every inch of yourself magnetically pulls to him in the most addicting way

Even still, his eyes flick between yours and your mouth – now parted in shallow breaths – with his eyebrows raised, silently asking you the question your body is practically begging from him

At the weak nods you gave him, he asks, “Yeah?”

Your nods turned excited, desperate, as you whispered back, “Yes”

Surging forward, his lips are on yours, his hands pressing down against the fabric of your clothes, his chest pushing yours back. Like he can’t get close enough to you, not in this moment or ever

But the little noise that erupts in the back of your throat satisfies him enough as you lean until your back is flush against his bed and body over yours, his mouth moving as his tongue dips past his teeth and against your bottom lip

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like this, a push and pull between your bodies, when he tilts his head back. As his forehead’s resting against yours, ragged breaths filling the space between you and a spreading warmth filling an empty space between your ribs, you smile

You smile until your cheeks hurt and he’s grinning back at you – like he’s content not being in on the joke, or maybe just that he knows the exact reason why you’re so happy because it’s the same reason he is

And you let him take you out on that date, with a promise to pay him back with another

@reidslovely

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter #college au #college!peter parker #tasm andrew garfield #tasm spiderman #peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x reader

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cherry-flavoured-thot · 1 year

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I wanna give Luci a lil break from being tortured lol Can I ask for him and the letter c? Congrats on 3k!!

🎉3k celebration 🎉

c - courtship, what do they do to hint at wanting to get together? is it obvious they’re courting you or subtle?

Lucifer thinks the smaller gestures are subtle enough for no one to notice. He thinks no one bats an eye when he stays back to walk you to RAD after breakfast, or how often he tries to eat lunch with you, or how quick he is to make you coffee in the morning (he’s memorized how you like it down to what your favourite mug is), or if he has to scold you the threats are so weak behind his words that you wonder why he bothered at all.

But everyone notices. Asmodeus, who asks if Lucifer wants to know your shoe size or clothing sizes or what style of clothes you want to wear. Leviathan, who casually drops in sentences the type of movies you like, in case Lucifer somehow manages to find himself trying to buy 2 tickets to a movie. Mammon, who starts making gagging noises when you and Lucifer stare at each other for too long, begging for you both to get a room. He stops when Lucifer glares.

It’s worse when Lucifer attempts to be coy, where everyone in the group chat that excludes you calls him out on how he clearly likes you. Only for him to say he doesn’t know what any of them are talking about. Belphegor, Satan and even Solomon have receipts to prove him wrong. “Oh yeah explain these.” Photos of Lucifer giving you his coat to stay warm, Lucifer pulling you close under an umbrella as you both walk in the rain, Lucifer listening to you tell a story with his chin resting in his hand with a warm smile on his face and Lucifer is not impressed.

“Where do you get those photos? Delete them now.” Lucifer audibly groans when Diavolo comments on how happy you both seem together, and remarks that he cannot wait until Lucifer finally confesses as you’d both make a great couple. It’s then followed by a spam of stickers nodding in agreement.

#okay he gets to be happy #for now #lucifer #om lucifer #lucifer om #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #obey me x reader #obey me #om!#om x reader #obey me swd #obey me one master to rule them all #3k celebration #x reader alphabet

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themculibrary · 2 years

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Tony/Phil Masterlist

Acting Up (ao3) - arianapeterson19 T, 1k

Summary: Tony Stark is nothing like they thought he would be. They thought living with Tony would be like one great big, acid trip of an adventure. But it was surprisingly not.

The one where the Avengers give Tony a hard time for being subdued and then find out why.

All Cooked Up (ao3) - CeliaEquus E, 2k

Summary: Everyone feels sorry for Phil, having such a wild, difficult Omega for a mate. Little do they know...

Billionaire's cake (ao3) - everythingispoetry G, 16k

Summary: The first time Phil gets to eat something baked by Tony, it's purely accidental. The other times - not so much. Or: a story about a relationship that starts with donuts and doesn't end because of donuts.

Breaking Perimeter (ao3) - derryderrydown G, 821

Summary: How did Tony get past Coulson's guard in Iron Man 2?

calm (ao3) - orphan_account E, 5k

Summary: Coulson was assigned to be Stark's handler. Stark didn't take to following orders the way Coulson expected.

Don't touch him (ao3) - awesome_goddess_of_mischief M, 3k

Summary: After Phil's death, the team moves into Stark tower to keep bonding. Tony is wearing himself thin trying to honour his husband's last wish, for the team to be together.

But it's slowly starting to become too much.

The team bullies continuely. Until one day the genius breaks. Luckily there's an unexpected guest ready to put the pieces back together again.

How to Court a Genius (ao3) - CeliaEquus E, 7k

Summary:

"Hey, Jarv. Who left this?" "The gift is from Agent Coulson, sir." Tony looked up, jaw dropping. "Agent? Why would he leave me… flowers? Kind of." He put the shape tool back in the stand, and played absently with the petals. "I cannot imagine why anyone would gift another person with flowers such as these; but then you are not like other people, sir. Nor is Agent Coulson."

In which Phil goes all out courting Tony, who has no idea how to respond to it all. But he's definitely being swept off his feet!

Just Tonight (ao3) - smaragdbird G, 1k

Summary: Coulson helps Tony with figuring out how to cure his palladium poisoning. Fury thinks Coulson is having Stockholm syndrome.

Let's Celebrate (That I Found You) (ao3) - Roodles T, 4k

Summary: It's Tony's first Christmas as a married man, and things have changed. The stakes seem a little higher, and it's not just strip poker and Star Trek marathons anymore... Islands are fantastic Christmas presents, right?

Lost Halves (ao3) - SiniseSnakeEyes T, 27k

Summary: He had been around four when Maria Stark had found him in her private garden. He had been glad in strange clothes, which had been to big for him and seemed to be better fitted for an adult instead of a child. Maria Stark, always a gentle soul, approached the child that shouldn’t be here – in a garden that was located on a private property far away from the next bigger city – and kneeled before the confused looking boy...

Off Script (ao3) - bear_bell T, 18k

Summary: Agent Coulson sees Stark smile, and he's compromised.

Orders from the Director (ao3) - Silver_KnightShade G, 14k

Summary: Coming back to the US by orders of the Director of SHIELD, they Rogue Avengers didn't know what they were walking into. They thought there was some kind of emergency they had to help with. They never thought they would be faced with an angry husband.

Rejection (ao3) - CeliaEquus G, 4k

Summary: Based on a prompt on the Avengers Kink Meme.

On his 25th birthday, Tony Stark finds his soul-mate, Phil Coulson. But his reputation is the ultimate barrier, and Phil rejects him. When SHIELD becomes interested in Tony fifteen years later, they send their best agent to him. And then the Avengers Initiative happens. Now working together, Phil realises just how big a mistake he's made. But will Tony ever forgive him?

THEN (ao3) - Era_Penn M, 18k

Summary: Questions flung from the sidelines, from the reporters and fans and fellow stars. Always with the questions. Tony deflected or joked, generally being a nuisance. The media thought they knew all his dirty little secrets. They were wrong. ***** Phil Coulson was known as Evan tonight. There was a street fight destined to get bloody, and it was as good a place as any to look for new recruits; they’d tracked Barton down at a similar site years ago. One never knew when they’d find a gem among the trash.

Afghanistan was before and after, but they, they were then and now. This is the story of THEN.

Words we don't say (ao3) - smaragdbird M, 3k

Summary: Toni Stark is not Phil's type. And neither is Phil Toni's.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #tony stark #phil coulson #ironagent #ironagent masterlist #masterlists #m/m

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cypressmoons · 2 years

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bane of my existence and object of all my desires | chapter 4

1 2 3 < 4 > no one told me analyzing and picking apart a fictional character and putting their personality onto another fictional character would be so hard but so fun it's almost 4am and i can't sleep so please enjoy part 4 of ? (i'm really scared of how many parts i'll write if nobody stops me from thirsting over ayato soon)

word count: 3k

pairing: kamisato ayato x fem!reader

contains: mentions of death near the end // spoilers for bridgerton season 2

names: fukuchi emiko - sister, fukuchi y/n / reader

Kamisato Ayato has never been the one to believe in a love match, or in love, for that matter. Inviting the Fukuchi Clan to his estate for an early celebration is all part of his master plan in securing Emiko’s hand before it is too late. His fingers draw mindless circles on the small box in his hand, the delicate velvet containing the Kamisato heirloom. Today shall be the day, yes, where Ayato can put an end to Lady Naoki’s annoying speculations about who’s courting who once and for all.

It is no secret that Ayato has had his eyes set on Lady Fukuchi for a while now. Some of the more…self-aware suitors of hers have ceased their pursuits, knowing they could not out-compete the Yashiro Commissioner anyway. Ayato is tired of the little gusts of wind that come whenever another young lady furiously bats her eyelashes in his presence, but he finds Emiko’s presence strangely comforting amid the chaos. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see the how much Emiko enjoys being in his companionship, too. Though it is no doubt that she would love the title of commissioner’s wife just as much as the next lady, there is more to her that clearly shows her willingness to be his wife first, and a lady with a title second.

Now all that he needs is to get the blessing from her sister. The hardest part, if you ask him.

But with Emiko, you never know what kind of ingenious plan she has in mind, hidden behind a graceful flick of her wrist and the subtle waves of her fan.

Bathing in the glorious afternoon sunshine, Ayato lets himself relax and fights the sudden urge to prop his feet up on the table. As he awaits the arrival of the Fukuchi carriage, he makes a mental list of most ideal scenarios for a proposal that would leave all of Inazuma savouring over for days. Somewhere not too public where the pressure of the watchful people could tip of the anxiety of the most composed person, but also not too private where the secret writer of the gossip column cannot draft up good words about him. It needs to be the perfect balance, and it perfectly executed just like everything else the Commissioner has ever done.

The carriage slowly grinds to a halt outside the Kamisato courtyard, and Ayato springs to his feet. Following closely behind is Ayaka, dressed in a light blue kimono very suitable for today’s beautiful weather. The footman opens the door and offers the ladies his hand in their descent from the carriage.

Ayato notes with great pleasure in Emiko’s radiance. He lowers his head in greeting, and the girl grins at the sight of her future lover.

“My lord, we are most grateful for your hospitality.”

As sweet as the ripest lavender melon, Ayato chuckles to himself. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Fukuchi.”

“And you must be Lady Y/N?” Ayaka asks with great expectancy as the ladies exchange a formal greeting as well.

Emiko’s smile freezes, and Ayato feels his heart sink. What has given his sister the impression that his biggest obstacle, the one person making all his thoughts go awry and his heart beat so erratically like a race horse running off track, is this small lady that couldn't even hurt a fly even if she wanted to?

“This is her sister, Lady Emiko.” Ayato corrects, not daring to look at either of the sisters in the eye.

“Oh, my apologies!”

“Not to worry at all, milady.”

Emiko and Ayaka engage themselves in small talk as they make their way into the estate, leaving Ayato standing a respectful distance away from Y/N, neither of them saying anything for a brief, blissful moment.

“Lady-”

“My lord-”

They both pause at the overlapping of their voices, before Ayato picks up his words, “You are smiling.”

“At the view. Which you are now blocking.”

How naive of him to have thought she would let him off easily this time.

“I’m sure you will grow to like me as much as you do this view.”

“I think your opinion of yourself is entirely too high.” Despite her comment, Ayato notices a trace of a smile on her lips, which she is now desperately trying to hide. He does not recall the two of them getting on such personal terms, joking and teasing like old friends.

His small glimmer of hope is immediately crushed when Y/N brushes past him with a curt nod, catching up with her sister and Ayaka on a tour of the estate. Ayato may be arrogant, but he is not stupid. A mistake made once is bound to not be repeated again. Surrounded by her sweet sakura scent but somehow maintaining a clear enough mind to remember Lady Yae’s warning look from days before, he forces his feet to move from their previous spot despite every cell in his body yelling at him not to.

If only he could spend a lifetime breathing in that scent.

No, his heart is with Emiko. A simple perfume like hers should not steer him off course.

When Ayato joins the ladies at the courtyard, they are already engaged in a particularly animated conversation with the exception of Y/N, who is merely nodding along to whatever words are exchanged with a polite smile.

“Brother, do come join us!”

Taking the only remaining seat — next to Y/N — and making himself comfortable, Emiko immediately jumps at the chance to offer a glimpse into whatever new idea of hers.

“My lord, I think it would be a great idea for my sister to join you on a walk later!” She beams, purposefully casting a blind eye to the fervent hints being thrown at her by her sister.

“I do not think that would be necessary-” Y/N refutes quickly, failing at her inconspicuous attempt to kick her sister under the table.

“That is a fine idea indeed, Lady Emiko!” Ayaka chimes in, this time earning a hard look from Ayato. The last thing he needs is unchaperoned alone time with Y/N, the exact opposite in every way from his intended.

If he wasn’t the punchline of whatever joke the younger ladies are playing, Ayato would have found this situation especially entertaining with the almost comical side eyes and hushed no’s coming from the older siblings. But alas, there is no convincing his sister once she sets her mind on something.

“I suppose there is no harm in doing so,” he finally says through gritted teeth, not wanting to suffer for one more second under Ayaka’s best puppy dog eyes.

Y/N sighs and smooths out her skirt as she stands, but not before throwing one last dirty look at Emiko, a look Ayato would not have expected a lady of her stature to be capable of.

He offers his arm that Y/N reluctantly takes, which she immediately drops the moment they can no longer be seen from the courtyard. Unsure of whether to laugh at her attempts to get rid of him or to be offended at that same attempt, he pretends to become increasingly interested in the soil beneath their feet as they descend into Chinju Forest once more .

The pair spends the majority of their walk in silence, albeit a less awkward one than the forced wordlessness in front of the whole of Inazuma. They take slow and relaxed steps down the mountain, and finally come to a stop near the torii gates by the path.

“There’s been monsters roaming around here lately, we should return before we run into any of them.” Ayato suggests, eyeing the calm surroundings in a nervous manner unlike his usual self.

“Are you doubting my abilities to defend myself?” Y/N challenges with a raised eyebrow.

He sighs then. There’s no convincing this girl to do anything, even if it’s for her own good.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m more worried about having to put out a whole forest fire if you run into a monster.”

Y/N lets out a short scoff, but follows him in their return to the estate anyway. Ayato’s internal celebration of this small victory doesn’t last long, as Y/N turns to face him with a questioning look.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me about my sister, my lord?”

“Your sister?”

“Yes.”

Ayato pauses. If he is to propose to Emiko, he would need Y/N’s blessing first. And there’s no way she would give that to him easily without a fight.

“She sent us on this…walk in hopes of getting us to hate each other less.” She mutters, clearly unhappy with her sister’s ploy.

“Well, is it working?” He teases.

“No.”

“Come on, I’m sure there’s at least something you find amiable about me?”

She does not answer, and Ayato only hopes she is being too stubborn to reveal it.

After a brief silence, he speaks again with the intention of asking about Emiko, “If I were to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage, would you allow it?”

To his surprise, she does not shut him down immediately, but only seems to be especially interested in examining the earth beneath their feet. Finally she looks up at him, her eyes filled with genuine concern as opposed to the usual confidence.

“I want her to be happy, my lord. My whole purpose here on Narukami Island is to make sure Emiko can find someone she truly is content being with.”

“And you are not finding that yourself?”

“This isn’t about me.”

Puzzled, Ayato matches her footsteps and examines her face slowly. Her features are unmoving and she does not say anything for a while, but there is a sorrow in her eyes that manages to escape her façade anyway. Suddenly Ayato feels sorry for her, a revelation that shocks even himself. How terrible it must be to give up everything you want for someone else, to sacrifice everything just to see someone else happy.

Then it hits him. He would walk to the edge of the world or through the depths of hell just to make sure Ayaka is safe and sound. And he would not hesitate to do it over again.

Maybe he and Y/N can finally see eye to eye on something, after all.

°•. ✿ .•°

The festivities are turned up a notch when the rest of high society joins them at the Kamisato estate for a fun-filled evening of food, music, and dances. Reflecting upon his earlier doubts, Ayato realizes that inviting the ladies earlier has not been a mistake. Y/N did not say another word to him as they made their way back to the estate, but he found all the answer he needs. If he can somehow prove to her that he, Kamisato Ayato, can indeed make her sister happy, then Lady Naoki’s next issue can surely include something more interesting than where the best kimono silks are bought.

Emiko looks especially happy next to Y/N as the ladies emerge out of the house in new dresses for the night. His eyes linger on Y/N for a moment too long before he catches Emiko’s bright smile, and he can’t help but offer a small one back in return, an action not unnoticed by Thoma.

“Forgive me for asking, my lord, but has there indeed been a special lady like the papers are speculating?”

“I think there are better things to do in one’s pastime than reading the nonsense that lady whatever-her-name-is is writing.”

Despite his teasing remarks, Thoma laughs heartily, his inner Mondstadter showing once more. That’s what Ayato likes about his retainer, though. Never afraid to speak his mind, but also genuine in his care for others.

“Thoma, if there were…indeed a special lady, how does one go about proposing to her?”

Green eyes widen as silence falls upon them. Thoma considers carefully before responding, “I suppose you must find a suitable moment for you both. If it were me, I wouldn’t want to pressure her into accepting a proposal in front of the whole nation.”

“Hm.”

“O-of course, I’m sure nothing you had in mind would be below the best, my lord.”

Ayato chuckles at Thoma’s panicked amendment to his previous words, and gives him a gentle pat on the back as he readies himself for the incoming swarm of unsuspecting mamas wanting to make the best introduction to their daughters.

Repeated formalities and several more small windstorms of eyelash-batting and fanning later, it is finally time for the first dance. Emiko stands next to her sister, their arms linked and looking closer to each other than he last remembers seeing them. Even then, he allows himself a moment of pure enjoyment as the crowd parts to make way for him, savouring the power he singlehandedly holds over all of the people here.

Almost all. He is not sure if he can say the same about Y/N.

“Lady Fukuchi,” he bows politely as he reaches them, “may I have the honour of the first dance?”

“Of course, my lord.” Emiko’s smile is brighter than the stars as she happily takes his outstretched hand, but not before exchanging an overexcited look with her sister.

The band plays the first notes and Ayato places his hand on her waist, the smooth silks of her kimono melting away into the smooth curves of her figure. As the dance progresses, Ayato finds it increasingly difficult to focus on his practiced footwork under Emiko’s expectant eyes on him, the same eyes soon turning disappointed as the music comes to a graceful stop and Ayato still has yet to say a word to her. Even so, she is quick to push her sister out to the dance floor while other gentlemen go around requesting the company of the young ladies.

“I think it would be great for you to have a dance with Lord Kamisato, don’t you think, Sister?”

Before Y/N can stammer out an excuse, Emiko has already caught Ayato’s eyes and it is too late to look away now. Of course, he does not let any of his inner emotions seep through his calming surface. Y/N now has no choice but to accept the dance, the look exchanged between her and Emiko now slightly angrier compared to the earlier one.

“Lady Fukuchi.”

She looks up at him, surprised by his voice next to her ear.

Little does she know, had they not been in public, Ayato may not have been able to hold back on the primal urges bubbling inside of him under such close proximity to her. Nevertheless, he quickly composes himself and asks the words every elder sibling in Inazuma has wanted to hear.

“Will you give me your blessing to marry your sister?”

Y/N hesitates, her feet missing a beat and stepping squarely on Ayato’s toes.

“My apologies!”

He can only laugh at her flustered state. Whatever happened to her witty comebacks?

“If you can promise you won’t treat her like a disposable object, then maybe I will consider it.”

There they are.

“She will have everything the Kamisato Clan has to offer. Whatever expensive things she wants—”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

He knows that’s not what she meant.

But how can he make that promise, when he is so afraid of falling in love?

°•. ✿ .•°

Kamisato Ayato isn’t afraid of many things. He has everything he could possibly need in this lifetime and the next – money, power, family, an endless line of suitors…

But he is terribly afraid of dying.

Pathetic, he knows. A man of his stature should not be as bothered by the mortality of humankind as he is. But after his parents’ untimely passing, the fear of dying young grows bigger with every day that passes by.

It is clan politics and betrayal that killed his father, and a broken heart his mother. Losing two of the people that meant the most to him in such a short period of time made Ayato take on the burden of being the head of the Kamisato Clan way too early. Boys of the same age were still playing chess and sparring friendly duels out on the streets when he was presented with all the documents pertaining to Inazuma’s cultural affairs in the dimly lit study, his eyes wide with fear and empty with grief.

It was then he promised to himself that he would never let anything happen to Ayaka, the only remaining family he has.

He has built the Kamisato Clan back from its crumbling ruins after his father’s death, and reemerged as one of the most influential families in Inazuma. All while knowing that the constant politics will eventually cost him his life someday. He may be smart in his maneuvers around power-hungry clan heads, but the same cleverness has gained him more enemies than he’d like to think about. Even though he tries to be levelheaded in all his affairs and avoid making enemies, he cannot change the fact that some people would do anything to get what they want, whether they be rival clans of the Fatui, who would not hesitate to use force to eliminate any obstacles in their way.

He has long accepted that assassination attempts and evil schemes against him are just part of his job. The less interesting parts, anyway. But he has yet to grapple with the thought of leaving Ayaka behind the day he finally succumbs to power and desire. Just thinking about it makes his blood run cold. And if he were to be a good clan head, like they say, the duty of continuing the bloodline naturally lands with him.

How is he supposed to continue the glory of the Kamisato bloodline, when he is so afraid of dying before he can see it all happen? When he can’t even allow himself to form any emotional attachments to any woman out of fear that his own untimely death will leave her brokenhearted?

He could not do that, not in good conscience.

The solution, then, is to marry a woman of gentle demeanour that would not get on his nerves, produce an heir, and most importantly, avoid falling in love at all costs.

»»————　♔　————««

hehe <3

masterlist | inbox part 1 | part 2 | part 3

#genshin impact #kamisato ayato #bridgerton #bridgerton season 2 #kamisato ayato x reader #kate x anthony #genshin x reader #bane of my existence and object of all my desires #i hope you're enjoying the slowburn hehe #moon's writings 🔖

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zommbre · 2 years

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Good evening, mutuals!

I am sharing this article because many of us live in the good ole state of Texas. The other day I received my daily ProPublica E-mail and saw this article. Having finally read it, I am outraged by the information that I learned. If you would like to read the article for yourself, I highly recommend that you do because it is very well written, it will be linked below. What follows is a short summary and rant from yours truly.

Essentially, Gov. Abbott boasted about how great Texas Medicaid is for expectant mothers, which now extends for up to 6 months after the baby is born, or is miscarried.

What he failed to mention is that Texas falls behind 33 other states in Medicaid coverage. Not very brag-worthy, don't you think?

Not only this, but it has "some of the strictest eligibility requirements in the country." (I left the hyperlink, because the included article is equally good). Everything is bigger in Texas! Well, not the maximum that a single parent with one child is allowed to earn when applying for Medicaid, which is "$196 or less a month to qualify." If you are pregnant, this cap is raised to a little over $3k a month for pregnancy related Medicaid.

The issue here is this coverage wears off after 6 months. Then you must apply for regular Medicaid, and have to make less than the $196 once more.

As someone who received an abortion, I can tell you firsthand that when you have the mandatory two doctors visits before the procedure, the doctor is legally required to encourage you to keep the baby because the "state will pay for everything, even after the baby is born."

I do not know anyone who would be able to survive as a single parent with one child plus a 6 month old baby on less than $196 a month. Even without a child I could never afford to live on that. Yet that is what the state wants them to make in order to cover them? It's honestly disgusting. Not to mention that according to "a 2020 report," the main causes of death post-partum are cardiovascular complications from birth and mental disorders.

Technically, because the U.S. is still under pandemic emergency declarations, those experiencing pregnancy are covered indefinitely, until the emergency declaration is removed, according to the article. However, that could be gone as early as this fall.

Since the Supreme Court has decided that abortions are no longer a right for people assigned female at birth, and the Governor wants to celebrate this loss of rights and boast about how well the state treats people who are pregnant, it's time something positive actually be done. If women are to be treated like breeding cattle, the least the state/country can do is make sure they have access to healthcare. I do not understand how healthcare is not a right in such a "developed" nation. And while we are at it, abortion is a right that should be included in that healthcare.

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sundropscribbles · 3 years

Text

Love Letters | Julian Devorak x OG Female Character | 3K

What's this? The first piece of Arcana fiction I've ever published? 🥰 Given how long I've been invested in this game, now, that probably deserves some kind of celebration. All that aside, though, this little ficlet started as a brain-worm and then developed into something sweet and soft for the absolutely wonderful @timmys-and-scribbles! As such, Julianne (the apprentice in this story) was created by and belongs to her! I hope you all enjoy!

Loving Julian Devorak comes with its challenges.

As it stood, this was quite simply a fact. It had always been common knowledge that the doctor could be a bit of a handful, even despite his good heart and his even better intentions. The things and the situations that surrounded him had a tendency to spiral out of control rather quickly — whether it was an good-natured round of cards at the Rowdy Raven, or an innocent debate with Valerius about some court-related thing or another, chaos had a habit of following Julian.

Now — nobody knew any of this better than Julianne did. Asra had gained a fair amount of experience on the topic, and goodness knew Portia understood, but even still: Loving Julian Devorak came with its challenges, yes, but oh… being in love with him was a challenge all its own.

This wasn’t to say that Julianne regretted falling for her dopey, dramatic, thespian lover; she had never regretted that, not for a second. But, gods, there certainly were some days that were much more trifling than others.

And this… this just so happened to be one of those days.

In Julian’s defense, this particular incident wasn’t exactly his fault. His intentions were just as pure and loving as they had always been. His heart was in the right place. There really wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change the situation - even if he had wanted to. It was just…. well, his handwriting was awful.

She had never thought that it would become an issue, not really; they lived together, and where Julian went, Julianne tended to follow. It wasn’t as though they communicated very much in writing, and she hadn’t even been sure that he had remembered her having claimed to be able to read the letter he had written to Portia years back.

Quite unfortunately for her, though, her lovable ruffian had remembered, and now, he had let his adorable, romantic streak get the better of him.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love his cliches, and his grand, sweeping gestures of romance - because she did. She really, really did. At the moment, though, she was holding what she thought might have been a sweet note, addressed to her from Julian. And that was all well and good. She loved that, but damn it… she couldn’t read it. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of it, and it was downright sad.

Her understanding of the what was written began with what she could recognize as her own name, scrawled near the top left corner, but ended abruptly just beyond that. She could pick out a word, maybe two - “sleep”, “soft”, maybe even “love” - but that was about it, apart from his scrawled signature near the bottom.

And she... she hadn’t a clue what to do about it.

He was going to ask about it at some point, wasn’t he? That was a given. And Julianne wasn’t sure she’d be able to get away with making like she had been able to read it again. Julian knew her better than that, now, and there wasn’t any way he wouldn’t see through the facade in an instant. The next best option would have been pretending she had never found the letter at all, but even that would be difficult. And besides, odds were Julian would only continue to try. He was nothing if not persistent, after all, and…

Gods, she was screwed. Well and truly.

After something close to an hour of fretting and then another hour of debate, she winds up going to Portia for help. She doesn’t come to the decision lightly by any means, but she does trust for the most part that asking for Julian’s sister’s help won’t immediately backfire on her. The youngest of the Devoraks did know how to keep a secret, after all. And anyways, it stood to reason that she’d have been able to read his messy scrawl — that was, if Julian had in fact written her letters as frequently as it’d seemed he had.

It was logical, and sound, and there was a fairly good chance that she could depend on her sister-in-law-to to help her out of this mess. And she had felt rather good about the plan, in the end. That was, until she’d actually turned up at Portia’s cottage with the letter in hand, and Portia had laughed. She had laughed, loudly and merrily, and it had been clear then and there that she would be of no help to Julianne.

“You… you can’t read it either?” Juli had squeaked, defeated once more.

“Gods, no,” Portia had giggled, squinting as she had eyed the letter for a long moment before handing it back to a rather wilted-looking Julianne. “Ilya sent me one, maybe two letters in all of the time he spent away. And even then, I had to have Lilinka help me read them. She was the only one who could ever make any sense of his chicken scratch.”

Julianne only sighs heavily at that, dragging a hand through her hair as her gaze falls to the letter in her hands. She loved and hated it in equal measure, because it really was incredibly sweet, but on the other hand… what, exactly, was she supposed to do about this?

“I’ve half a mind to get in contact with The Hanged Man himself,” she grunts. “Maybe he’ll be able to help me out.”

She’s only half-serious — because asking one of the Arcana for the power to read her own husband’s handwriting is downright silly, and she knows it — but Portia still cackles, dropping onto the couch next to her unceremoniously.

“Have you considered telling him you can’t actually read it?” she suggests with a smirk.

“No!“ she squawks, indignant as ever. “I can’t! That’s — it’s — “ Embarrassing, was what it was. And the last thing she wanted was to admit to it. It was looking more and more like that would be her only option, though, and… damn it.

Portia never stops snickering, not even as she stands from the couch and finds her way into the kitchen (where Pepi has been ‘mewing’ her desire for lunch for a handful of minutes, now).

“Well, you could always distract him with sex,” she suggests with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Maybe he’ll forget all about it.”

Normally she might have blushed in response to Portia’s teasing, used to it as she may have been. But distracting Julian with sex? That wasn’t a bad idea. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done it before, anyways, amidst petty arguments and on days she felt like dragging him home from the clinic without a fuss. And so today, instead of blushing, she grins.

“You’re a genius, Portia,” she says, grinning as she stands from the couch and heads for the door — though not before pausing to tug the shorter woman into a one-armed hug.

Portia only laughs harder, and with that, Julianne scurries out the door.

Rather luckily for the stubborn magician, Julian doesn’t actually wind up coming home until well after sunset.

It had been a very busy day at the clinic, evidently, and by the time he comes sauntering through the front door, it’s dark out. He looks positively exhausted, and he heaves a thick sigh as he sheds his coat and then ducks to work at the buckles on his boots.

“Darling, I’m home,” he shouts halfheartedly, and Julianne pauses. As it was, she had only just started getting ready for bed. And that was rather lucky, too, she supposed, given her situation. Normally, she’d have slept in something loose and comfortable — one of Julian’s shirts, more often than not — but she hadn’t taken any risks, tonight. No, tonight she had purposefully worn something much more revealing. It was skimpy and soft; the straps were thin and the neckline sinfully low, and the fabric was primarily a lovely, translucent lace. It was a beautiful sage green in color, and it was downright distracting.

Or, well. She hoped that it would be, at least.

She delicately combs both of her hands through her hair — purposefully left down to fall across her shoulders — and with a soft sigh of her own, she wanders down the stairs to meet Julian.

“Welcome home, Ilya,” is what she decides to lead with. He’s not noticed her yet, too busy struggling to remove his obscenely tall boots to have looked up just yet. “Long day?”

His response is a soft groan, as his boots are finally kicked aside. He stands upright a handful of seconds later, dragging a hand through his hair as he nods his agreement. “Very long,” he laments, tugging his eyepatch off and tossing it aside in a manner that clearly indicates his happiness to be rid of it for the evening. “And hardly as exciting as you might assume. Some of these patients, darling, I’m telling you—! I’m not sure how many more times I can tolerate having to explain that there isn’t a cure for allergies, or a common cold. Not even leeches can — oh.”

He’s looked up, now. Smack in the middle of his frustrated rambling, he’s managed to catch a glimpse of Julianne, smiling softly at him and presenting herself just so, and… oh.

“Welcome home, indeed,” he purrs, and immediately strides forward to meet her. His still-gloved hands settle at her waist, first and foremost, and his touch is warm and appreciative as he spends a handful of moments looking her over more thoroughly. “To what do I owe this absolute vision?”

“Oh, no occasion in particular, darling,” she responds, melting right into his touch just the way that she always does. Perfect, she thinks. It’s working, then. “I just thought you deserved something nice. What with that long day of yours.”

One of his hands wanders upward, touching and tracing the length of her torso reverently. He only pauses when the palm of his hand reaches her neck, and the smile on his face grows all the more mischievous as he threads his fingers into her hair and ducks forward to kiss her lips.

“Mm, you spoil me,” he mumbles into the kiss. In the next instant his hands are on her hips, gracefully lifting her up and hauling her in close. Her legs wind themselves around his waist on instinct, and her lips curl into a delighted smile against his as she clings to him. “It’s only fair that I do the same for you, isn’t it?”

It’s not another moment before they’re up the stairs and off to the bedroom, then, and… Gods. It’s a win-win situation through and through. There’s never a word said about the letter, and Julian spends the next several hours doing positively filthy things to her with his tongue and his fingers alike.

It’s perfect, and more importantly, she’s safe.

Or so she thinks.

It’s in the early hours of the morning that Julianne finds herself being tugged in close to her beloved doctor’s chest, peppered in loving kisses and brought to consciousness both by the affection and the warmth of the morning sun.

“Mmf,” she mutters, tucking her face against his neck insistently as she comes to. “Ilya?”

“Good morning, my love,” he murmurs into her hair. It sounds as though he’s been awake for some time, and there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. It makes her smile, too, even as she yawns widely, and then proceeds to groan at the obviously early hour.

“Why’re you up,” she asks, returning a handful of his kisses. “S’too early to be up.” He laughs softly, then, and presses another to the top of her head.

“I was just… admiring, that’s all,” he sighs. His hands wander the length of her back, fingertips delicately tracing the lacy little thing that she’s still wearing. He had never taken it off of her the night before — not at the start, and not as he’d held her beneath him and showed her exactly how much he appreciated it.

She smiles softly as she gathers her wits about her. It’s achingly sweet, and she’s definitely about to respond with some flirtatious quip or another, but he beats her to it before she has the chance.

Though she can’t see it just yet, there’s a hint of mischief in his smile, and it only grows as he speaks. “If all of the silly little notes I write to you result in this, I might just have to do it more often.”

And — oh. Oh no.

She laughs softly perhaps a touch awkwardly at the suggestion. It’s certainly something of a challenge to bite back her panic, but she manages it quite expertly. Her expression is cool and calm as she leans back to meet his eyes, and she even manages to keep a hint of subtle flirtation in her tone as she speaks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says with a smirk. “Do you really think you could keep that level of charm up for so long?”

Despite her cool, collected facade, her panic only rises. Because oh, Gods — of everything she could have said, she had gone with that?. It wasn’t wise. Not in the least. Julian was as competitive as he was persistent, and — and — fuck. She was fucked.

“Oh, darling, you wound me!” he sighs, as dramatic as ever. He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead anyways, though, laughing softly as he drops the act. “Still, though… perhaps I did peak with that first one.”

Relief washes over Julianne at that, and she nods her agreement. “Well, it isbest not to overdo it, isn’t it?” she suggests with a smile.

“You may be right,” he agrees with a nod, and she relaxes further at that, because thank goodness. If she could just… casually talk him out of the idea just as quickly as she’d talked him into it…

Quite unfortunately, however, she comes to find out soon enough that her relief had come very prematurely, because another few seconds later, Julian is grinning again. “I’m rather curious, though — did you have any favorite bits? Tidbits I could revisit in the future, perhaps?”

And she… she doesn’t have a good response to that. She doesn’t have an alibi, or a white lie, or an escape route, because in truth? She hadn’t been able to make sense of a single line of the letter. He’s asking her for specifics, now, and she’s got nothing.

“I — er — uhm,” she stammers, clearly floundering. In the midst of her panic, she fails to notice the amused gleam in his eyes — the way that he’s biting back soft laughter as she struggles to put together a response.

“Speechless, are you?” he teases, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Or… perhaps it wasn’t very good after all?”

“No! I — it was! It’s… ah, the way, um — that line where…“ she continues to try, stubborn as ever. Positively refusing to let herself fail.

However, it isn’t very much longer before Julian himself can no longer keep up the act. He dissolves into delighted laughter roughly thirty seconds in, and it stuns Julianne into silence.

“My dear,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “You could have just told me that you couldn’t read it.”

Julianne makes an indignant noise at that, and the shock in her expression dissolves into something rather more like a comically angry pout as she looks up at him.

“What—! How—“ she begins to ask, but it hits her before she ever gets the question out. Portia. She curses under her breath, and another moment later, she nudges him halfheartedly. It only makes him laugh more, and she grumbles and rolls her eyes at that. “That’ll be the last time I trust your sister with my secrets, then.”

“Come now,” he grins, brushing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes (even though she’s still refusing to meet his gaze). “I thought it was adorable, how hard you tried to be convincing.”

She makes another disgruntled sound at that, though instead of pulling away, this time, she rolls into his arms with a forlorn sigh.

“It’s embarrassing,“ she whines, forehead pressed firmly to his chest. He rumbles with soft laughter, again, and she pouts. “…and to be fair, we live together! I never thought that fib about being able to read that old letter of yours would ever come up again.”

Julian just grins, though, and presses another adoring kiss into his silly little magician’s hair.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he sighs, cuddling her close. “I’d dare say that little fib was downright cunning of you.”

She blinks, raising her head a fraction at that and eyeing him curiously. “…you would?”

He’s still smiling at her, and though the embarrassment of it all hasn’t faded just yet, it’s rather reassuring.

“It got me to talk, didn’t it?” he points out, and she huffs.

“It did,” she admits, and though her tone is still a touch reluctant, the smile on her face is soft and fond.

“And now we’re here. Married and terribly domestic, all because of your embarrassing fib,” he goes on to say, and that’s what breaks her. Her small smile brightens into a grin, and another handful of seconds later she’s giggling, flush with laughter and clinging to him as she nods her head.

“Gods, that… it really is the little things, isn’t it?” she snickers, and Julian hums.

“That it is,” he agrees, giving her a squeeze.

Her laughter settles soon enough, and as she relaxes into his arms once more, she sighs.

“It really was sweet, though,” she promises. “You’ll read it to me sometime, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, darling,” he promises, sealing the words first with a tender kiss to her forehead, and then another to her lips not a moment later. And she’s perfectly content with that, sated and just about ready to sink into another few hours of sleep. Julian, though… Julian has other ideas.

His hands wander toward the small of her back and then dip lower, and his smile grows devious as his touch shamelessly lingers on her ass for a very long moment before sliding toward the backs of her thighs, instead.

“So long as it gets me more of this?” he asks. His tone is low and sultry, and Julianne ignores the slight hitch in her breath in favor of swatting at him playfully.

“Oh, you’re a menace,” she complains. There isn’t any real fight behind it, though, and the moment he laughs and begins to pull away, she moves in closer. Presses him onto his back, and swings a leg across his hips. Indulges him.

She’ll always indulge him, as big a menace as he might be.

And… well, screw it. Love letters were overrated, anyways.

#the arcana #the arcana ficlets #the arcana apprentice #the arcana game #julian devorak #the arcana julian #mc x julian #julianne allgeier #fanfiction #fic #the arcana fan fiction #original character #fan apprentice #ilya devorak #julian x mc #julian x apprentice #lfv fic

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years

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My lovely, Dany...1) Congrats on the semester being done! 2) Thank you for treating us with this. You deserve all the love!!! Thank you for your gorgeous writing.

May I please ask for the prompt "crashing your lips together during an argument" with Disco Pike. You know my feelings for this man.

Sending you love! 💕💕

Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 3K Follower Celebration

Thank you so much dear ! ! !

Warnings: Cursing, angst that ends in fluff

“I oughta have you court martialed.” You’ve seen the Captain upset before—with you, with other members of the crew—but never quite like this.

You find it difficult to hold still. Every muscle in your body is screaming for you to get out of there, but the Captain hasn’t dismissed you yet, nor has he completed what is sure to be a long and uncomfortable lecture. “I understand that there is significant damage that has been done to the ship—” You glance hesitantly up at Pike. It’s a mistake, looking and speaking. “The ship?” He repeats, “Ships can be repaired. Lives can’t be replaced when they’re lost.” “No one died—” “But you could’ve!” The yell booms in the Ready Room. Your hands flex behind your back where they’re still clasped. Pike stalks closer, his gaze harsh, his jaw tight. “You cannot disobey orders the way you did,” He warns lowly. “Fine,” You snap, “Court martial me. Kick me off of the ship, send me back to Starfleet—” “Stop.” “—I’m sure it’ll be better for everyone involved. You’ll have a quieter ship, you won’t have to worry about what I’m up to—” “I said stop, Commander—” “And if anything, the Enterprise will remain indefinitely in one piece. Una will have to message me the latest gossip, but I’m sure we’ll manage. And of course, you’ll have to find someone else to fu—” Pike takes your face in his hands, drawing you sharply into him. Your lips meet almost brutally. Pike’s teeth sink into your lower lip as his hands slip around your back, drawing you tightly against his chest. You whimper softly, raising your hands to twine in his hair. Pike turns you both, walking you carefully back toward the desk. As your legs knock into it, your footing falters. You clutch more tightly to Pike, keeping yourself on your feet as his fingers curl in your uniform jacket.

Pike pulls away a touch, panting warmly against your bruised lips. “Don’t…Do not ever do that again,” He orders. "Talk back?" "You know that that is not what I mean." “I can’t swear that I won’t disobey orders.” “I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you not to put yourself in a position like that again.” He slides his hands up to rest on your shoulders as he rests his forehead against yours. Opening your eyes, you find Pike’s squeezed shut, shielding you from whatever truth his sweet eyes hold. “...You know I can’t promise that, either,” You tell him. Pike’s head turns away from yours just a touch, his forehead still resting against yours. “I’m sorry,” You murmur, lowering your hands to rest on either side of his neck. He gives a short nod, mutters, “I understand.” “...Are you still going to have me court martialed?” You tease gently. Pike’s lips quirk into a small smile, despite himself. “I said that I ought to, not that I would.” You smile, a fluttering feeling filling your chest. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Pike shakes his head, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I don’t want you going anywhere.”

#Christopher Pike x Reader #Christopher Pike x You #Christopher Pike/Reader #Christopher Pike/You #Christopher Pike fic #Christopher Pike imagine #asks #replies #follower celebration #youvebeenlivingfictional 3k follower celebration #3k follower celebration

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deanwinchesterswitch · 2 years

Text

Run To You ~ Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary: Learning more about each other can be fun. The morning is going well until unexpected guests arrive.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Kasey Belmont (OFC)

Warnings: Fluff; Some emotional struggle; Language

Rating: Mature 18+ (due to later chapters) NSFW

Word Count: 3413

Beta: @princessmisery666

Movie Reference/Quote: A Lot Like Love

Author’s Notes: This is an AU. While there are several SPN characters mentioned, basically no one has the same connections as they did in the show, and Dean and Sam are not related.

Series Master Post

Written for: @jay-and-dean -Jay’s 3K Celebration and @spnaubingo.

SPNAUBingo Square Filled: Fugitive AU

SPNQuoteBingo: “What's your stance on pancakes?” “I am pro-pancakes.”

**ETA - Updated title card and format 3/13/23**

Kasey rolls to her back and throws an arm over her eyes, her head pounding. So much for staying sharp and focused. Keeping her eyes sealed tight against the light creeping around the edges of the curtains, she hears Dean’s question ringing in her ears.

When he asked if she could really help him, the anguish and fatigue in his voice had almost broken her. Fingernails digging into the wood banister, she had faced the torment in his eyes head-on. He looked like a kicked puppy. She wished she could have assured him that it would all work out, but while she’s optimistic, she’s also a realist and doesn’t want to give him any false hopes. So, she promised to do what she could to help him.

Salty drops pooled along his bottom lashes, turning them into dark feathery spikes. Before she could do or say anything further, he had turned and hurried away. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but it took a lot of restraint not to go after him.

Kasey shifts to her side and hugs a pillow as she replays everything Dean had told her last night. His marriage had been spiraling for a couple of years. He’d suspected for quite some time that his wife was having an affair but hadn’t found anything to substantiate it. Her odd behavior finally drove him to follow her to a sleazy motel and watch as she met up with another man, making out in the parking lot before disappearing into the lobby. That had been two days before she was killed.

In those two days, he had dug deeper and finally found proof of not only one but two indiscretions, along with discovering a bank account under her maiden name that contained several thousand dollars. He had a tech friend do a bit of digging and found a phone account, also in her maiden name, that produced visual proof of the affairs. The illegal information gathering hadn’t won him any points in court.

Kasey’s first thought was that for a seasoned DEA agent, the woman didn’t seem to be well-versed in covert operations. The use of her maiden name was a rookie mistake. It didn’t sit right with Kasey, so she added it to her list of items to research further.

After hearing how quickly his case was pushed through the system and the oversights made in the process of his defense, she has a better understanding of the factors that led to his imprisonment. It was an election year, and with his wife being a federal agent, it turned into a high-profile case. Dean was a convenient suspect of whom they made an example for a quick resolution. The media ate it up.

As Dean expounded on the trial proceedings and the prosecution’s claims, Kasey ticked off boxes in her head, making mental notes, pieces to a puzzle she would fit together later. Some particulars didn’t quite fit, didn’t quite make sense. It seemed that missteps were made during his arrest and the subsequent investigation—errors that supplied reasonable doubt that might have helped his defense if they had been adequately presented.

Once the prosecution revealed their ace in the hole, the murder weapon, a kitchen knife covered in the victim’s blood, and Dean’s fingerprints, it had become an open-and-shut case in the eyes of the jury. Dean was a scorned man looking for revenge. It took them less than thirty minutes to convict him unanimously.

The knowledge that the murder was committed with a knife, a weapon typically used in crimes of passion, had momentarily given her pause. It had taken a couple of minutes, but her alcohol-laced brain eventually connected the fact that it wouldn’t be unusual for Dean’s prints to be on a knife from his own kitchen. Not to mention, he had seemed very comfortable in her kitchen, so it stood to reason that he cooked at home. However, Dean had said that he didn’t remember seeing the knife when he discovered his wife’s body. So, where did it come from? Who had found it?

However, Kasey knows she can’t just take Dean at his word or base his habeas case on presumptions. To file with the court and overturn the conviction, they will need concrete evidence of who killed his wife, and the sooner she starts working on it, the better. He’s being hunted, and while her farm is out in the boonies, it isn’t completely safe.

“Ugh!” Head still throbbing, she finally peels an eyelid open and groans. The room is a lot brighter than usual when she wakes up. Slowly turning her head, she blinks to focus on her alarm clock, the dial reading a quarter after nine. “Shit!” It’s over three hours after she usually rises.

She bolts upright, immediately regretting the movement, and buries her head in her hands, waiting for the wooziness to pass. After a couple of moments, she carefully climbs from her bed and staggers to the bathroom, ignoring the mirror until after relieving her bladder.

Christ, she looks like crap, but she doesn’t have time to do anything about it. She needs to get downstairs and fix breakfast. Securing her hair out of her face in a half updo, she quickly brushes her teeth and downs some aspirin. At least she doesn’t have to worry about raccoon eyes since she rarely wears makeup anymore.

Stepping back into the bedroom, she looks to her nightstand. The dark teal phone sits there like the elephant in the room. After a moment’s hesitation, she picks up the receiver and is greeted by the steady hum of the dial tone when she brings it to her ear. Placing the handset back in the cradle, she nods. “Alright, then, time to stir up some trouble.”

She slides the chair from beneath the handle and unlocks the door. While she believes Dean, and he hasn’t attempted to harm her up to this point, she’s not an idiot. He’s a stranger, a convicted felon that she let loose in her home.

Okay, maybe not a complete idiot.

Until she gets to know him a little better, she still needs to be judicious about her safety.

Upon opening the door, the scent of rich, earthy coffee wafts around her, and she inhales the transcendental aroma like it’s the last breath she’ll ever take. It seems her gorgeous fugitive is already up and about. She quickly pads down the stairs, trying not to jostle her aching head too much.

Walking into the kitchen, she finds Dean setting the table. He smiles when he sees her. “Hey, there you are! I was just about to go up and knock on your door.”

His voice is just a little too loud for her ears, and she scrunches her face in disdain. “Shush.” Kasey squints at him because, christ, it’s too sunny and bright in here, and how is he so damn chipper? “Coffee first,” she grumbles and makes a beeline for the coffee maker, only to find the pot empty. Pouting, she turns in place, trying to see where the scent of her life’s blood is coming from.

Dean chuckles, handing her a cup and pointing to the French Press sitting on the table—the carton of cream next to it.

She looks at him in awe, mouth falling open. Never in a million years would she have pegged him for a pressed coffee kind of guy.

Raising his brows, he licks his lips and stares back at her with a smug little smile. “I couldn’t find a sugar bowl, so I assume you don’t use any?”

“Hmph.” Snapping her mouth closed, she turns on her heel and heads for the table. Sliding into a chair, she hears Dean softly humming a tune and peeks at him from the corner of her eye.

He seems to have shed the cloak of heaviness he’s worn since she first saw him—broad shoulders set a little straighter, eyes a bit brighter, and an easiness in his manner that wasn’t there before. It makes her feel warm, fuzzy, and maybe a tiny bit proud that she might have had a hand in the change.

Before she has a chance to reach for the coffee, Dean is there and pouring her a cup. Looking at her questioningly, he tilts his head toward the cream, and she nods in reply. After setting the container back down, he remains by the table, biting his lip, not saying a word.

Kasey wants to pinch herself because she’s not used to having someone wait on her like this. First last night and now this morning, and certainly not by anyone as good-looking as him. She has a fleeting thought that he’s just buttering her up, trying to win her over and lull her into a false sense of security before showing his true colors, but hastily chastises herself and squelches the thought.

She told him she believed him, every instinct telling her he was not lying. If she is going to be of any help to him, she needs to stop doubting herself and get on with it. The heat of embarrassment at her internal struggle, coupled with the rush of adrenaline at Dean’s proximity, rises in her cheeks, and she drops her chin. She makes a show of smelling the coffee, like it’s a fine wine, and blowing on the steaming liquid before taking a sip.

An obscene moan escapes her mouth, and she quickly bites her bottom lip to prevent any more mortifying sounds from passing through them. It’s probably the best coffee she’s ever tasted. Strong but not too bitter, just like she likes it. Slouching back into the chair, she eyes Dean over the rim of her cup, that damn sexy smile plastered on his face.

“Coffee’s okay?”

“Mhm-hmm,” she hums, taking another sip, still trying to mask the near orgasmic euphoria she feels as the smoky and subtle chocolaty notes dance over her taste buds.

He raps his knuckles against the tabletop, smiling wide as he finally steps away. “So, the coffee’s a hit. What's your stance on pancakes?”

“I am pro-pancakes.” She looks over to find him pulling a tray of pancakes and bacon from the oven that he’d apparently put there to keep warm. “Holy shit, I think I’m in love!” Quickly clearing her throat, she stammers, “I- I love pancakes and bacon.”

Ugh.

She wants to smack that smug look off his face, which seems to be a permanent feature of his demeanor now. Hoping to get her thoughts back to more neutral territory, she asks, “How’d you sleep?”

Dean places a stack of pancakes and what looks like half a slab of bacon on her plate before setting the tray down between them. “Great. Gotta love that memory foam.” He goes to the fridge and pulls out another tray filled with bowls, grabbing a butter dish she forgot she even owned off the island on his way back to the table.

Placing everything next to the first tray, he sits opposite her as he did last night and starts piling food onto his plate.

She’s aware that he’s talking to her but isn’t paying any attention as she stares dumbfounded at the array of food before her. There are perfectly diced strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, sliced bananas, chopped nuts, powdered sugar, syrup, chocolate sauce, apple butter, a can of whipped cream, and a bowl of mini chocolate chips.

“Kasey?” His tone is a little louder, a bit sharper, and it finally captures her attention.

“Oh, uh, yeah?”

“Everything okay?” He sounds concerned. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have used all of this. I didn’t know what you liked for toppings.”

Her mouth is still hanging open as she raises her eyes to him. He laughs and reaches over, crooking a finger under her chin and pushing it closed. If he hadn’t left it there a fraction longer than necessary, her jaw would have dropped again at the sensation of his rough skin brushing against the tender flesh of her throat.

There’s a shift in his eyes, a flicker of darkness, before he drops his gaze and pulls his hand back. Heat rolls through her body like a fire lit by gasoline, and she sucks in a breath. She clenches her hands on the tabletop to steady herself, silently counting to ten to calm her racing heart. She’s still staring when he looks back up.

“Listen, I’m really sorry if I overstepped.” As he fidgets in his seat, the agitation in his voice cuts through her stupor.

“No, no. It’s just-” She clears her throat. “It’s fine. I just-” Tilting her head to the side, she chuckles, “How long have you been up?”

Dean visibly relaxes, expelling a low huff of breath. “A while. My sleep patterns are kinda screwed up right now.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I got four hours in. Figured you needed the extra sleep, so I took a walk around the property and then sat on the porch for a bit. It’s peaceful here.” He seems a little lost in thought for a moment, but then the smug smirk, his armor, is quickly put back in place as she continues to stare. “I finished the pancakes just a couple of minutes before you came down.”

“Wow, well, thank you. It looks delicious.”

“I checked the phones; they’re back up.”

Oh, he’s good. Would make an excellent opponent in poker— face blank, body language open, voice inflection even, eyes focused and steady. He just casually slipped that right in there like he was talking about the weather. If she hadn’t caught the tiny ripple of muscle as he clenched his jaw before taking a sip of his coffee, she might believe that he isn’t concerned about the connection they now have to the world at large.

“Yeah, I did, too, before I came down.” She smiles softly. “I haven’t called anyone yet. Wanted to talk to you about it first.”

He seems to accept the explanation, but there’s a slight hitch of tension in his shoulders again, probably worried that she's changed her mind and will call the authorities. The thought hasn’t crossed her mind since she talked herself around in the bathroom yesterday. She promised to help him, and she’s never broken a promise. However, Dean doesn’t know her all that well, so all she can do is be patient and show him that she will stand by him. Prove to him he’s no longer alone in facing the daunting task ahead of him.

“After breakfast, I’ll show you some more of the property,” she says, hoping if he has a lay of the land, he’ll relax again. “Take you out to the place my little homestead was named after.” She grabs a bowl containing one of her favorite toppings and dumps half of the contents over her stack of pancakes.

Dean laughs as he watches her smother the golden discs with more ingredients. “Crossroads Creek, right?” At the arch of her brow, he adds, “I saw a plaque on one of the barns.”

“Yeah. It’s been in my family for four generations now, over 150 years.” She picks up her fork and cuts a bite from the tower on her plate.

“Are you actually going to eat all of that?” He flicks the tines of his fork toward her food-ladened dish, a huge grin on his face.

“Damn, straight, I am. A handsome man cooks me breakfast? No way I’m letting it go to waste.” Kasey looks him square in the eyes as she shoves a heaping forkful of the warm, perfectly fluffy dough covered in berries and whipped cream into her mouth.

“So you think I’m handso-”

He stares wide-eyed as she cuts off his flirty quip with a loud appreciative moan around the combination of warm, pillowy dough and sweet, tart toppings exploding on her tongue. Kasey smiles to herself at his reaction. The man is such a contradiction. The juxtaposition of the charming, flirty alleged killer to the man that is struck silent over her obvious enjoyment of the meal he prepared for her is something to behold.

A rush of exhilaration spreads through her like wildfire, giving her a boost of confidence, and she throws him a wink. Scooping up another bite, she slides it between her lips and mumbles, “‘s so ‘ood.”

The tips of his ears turn bright pink as he bites his bottom lip and then drops his head. She holds in a chuckle as he quickly takes a bite of his food and shifts in his seat.

After the first bite, Dean begins to shovel food into his mouth. The silence, while not uncomfortable, extends between them, and Dean finally looks up from his plate.

She laughs aloud at the sight of his mouth stuffed full of food. With any other man, she would have found it off-putting, but he looks absurdly adorable with his cheeks all puffed out—like a chipmunk or cute little squirrel.

Dean bobs his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “‘m ‘ry,” he mumbles around the food before hastily chewing and swallowing, nearly choking on the mass.

Seeing that self-conscious grin abruptly mars her little moment of joy, a pang jolting through her heart at the thought of how many meals he must have missed or had to rush through to avoid being caught by staying in one place for too long. It takes all of her resolve not to leap from her chair and wrap her arms around him, offer him some comfort, and let him know that he won’t have to worry about that ever again if she has any say in the matter.

Despite her heady thoughts, the weird tension between them slips away. They enjoy the rest of their meal, with Dean listening attentively as Kasey animatedly tells him the history of her family’s farm.

“Hey, how’s your wound?” she asks as they finish cleaning the dishes.

“Good. Where’d you learn to stitch like that?”

“My grandmother was a quilter.”

“Seriously?” The look Dean gives her is a mix of dread, disbelief, and admiration.

“Yeah. Well, that and I took a survival course once. Boss forced me to take some time off, and I was bored,” she shrugs, “thought it would be fun.”

Dean’s still staring at her like she’s some apparition that he can’t quite comprehend but is curious to understand. The intensity in his gaze makes her uncomfortable, and she turns away, folding the towel and laying it on the counter.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs and find you some better-fitting clothes.” She looks him over and has to bite back the laugh that rises in her throat, once again, taking in the appearance of the too-small clothing covering his burly frame.

Dean helps her move boxes as she tries to locate the one she needs. “Ah, ha!” Peeling the tape away that seals the box, Kasey peers into the cardboard square and instantly feels the tears pressing at the backs of her eyes. The clothes are musty but still carry the lingering scent of her grandfather.

Brushing an arm across her eyes to hide the emotional distress from Dean, she pulls a shirt from the box. It’s a purple plaid, one of her favorites. The material is soft from wear, and she brings it to her cheek, closing her eyes and briefly getting lost in the memories. She feels the air shift as Dean steps up behind her, peering over her shoulder.

“That’s a lot of flannel,” he laughs. “A little warm out for that right now, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to start getting cooler in the evenings, so you should take a couple.” She hands him the shirt, digs through the box, and shakes out a black and white plaid. A couple of minutes later, Dean is holding a stack of jeans and shirts.

“We’ll need to wash-”

A car door slams outside. Kasey drops the gray Henley she’s holding and runs to the small attic window. “Dammit,” she exclaims, turning to find an ashen-faced Dean looking like a skittish thoroughbred ready to bolt.

“Dean,” she calls tentatively, knowing that she needs to get downstairs quickly, but any sudden movements may send him racing for an exit and straight into the path of their unexpected visitors.

The glacial stare and brittle edge to his voice are colder than the hinges of Hell’s door. “Friends of yours?”

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@muchamusedaboutnothing

#jays3kcelebration #spnaunbingo #spnquotebingo #fugitive au #dean x ofc #au series #run to you chapter eight

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chvoswxtch · 8 months

Note

I’m so excited to be joining the court eras tour! Congrats on the achievement! Can I request speak now about Frank and Matty competing for the attention of the same girl? Wether it means she ends with one of them, none, or both *wink wink*

you know, my philosophy in life is why have one when you can have both?

side note: i'm the worst person to go shopping with bc if you ask me if you should get something, i'm gonna tell you to treat yourself and if you ask me to help you decide between two things, i'm gonna tell you to get them both

with that being said, let's fuck date them both <3

electric touch (frank's version ft. matt)

firstly, frank and matt are very different when it comes to dating

matt flirts with anything that has a heartbeat. he's a charming, smooth talking fucker, and he knows exactly what he's doing. he doesn't even need to use his heightened senses to be able to tell that his dazzling grin and dimples coupled with his alluring deep voice makes a person's blood rush to their cheeks and to other places in their body

frank on the other hand is a little more shy. if you remember, maria approached him first when they met, and that actually seems to be a recurring theme for frank (karen makes the first move, sarah is the one that kisses him, beth is the one that invites him home). essentially, frank is a consent king who lets his partner come to him. not that he doesn't flirt, I think he does when he feels more comfortable, but it doesn't come second nature to him like it does to matt

secondly, I think their different personalities also shine in terms of the kind of date they take you on

matt's go to date idea that we've seen tends to be a romantic dinner somewhere. despite him being a huge slut flirt, i do think he's a hopeless romantic at heart. matt could ask you to dinner as easily as he could ask you what time it was, but I think he'd do his best to make sure to pick a spot that he knew you would like based off your preference in food, meet you at the restaurant looking devastatingly handsome, and then take you on a nice little stroll to keep the evening going

frank on the other hand seems a little more old school and traditional. despite where he's taking you, he's definitely picking you up at your door and bringing flowers. I could see him being a dinner and movie guy, but I also think frank would wanna get to really know you, and it's kinda hard to have a conversation with someone while watching a movie. so I personally think he would take you to do something fun (we know he loved to take his family to the park with the carousel), something like bowling, mini golf, an arcade (where he'd totally show off and win you a prize), an aquarium, etc. somewhere where the two of you could do something fun together and then get a bite after

NOW, we know frank and matt are super competitive with one another, but if they were trying to win over the same person? absolute chaos

let's just say for fun y'all all go on a first date at the same time (bc I personally think it would be hilarious)

you let frank pick the activity y'all do together, and he purposefully sends matt on a wild goose chase telling him to meet at the mini golf place at 7pm, but, he doesn't specify which one. so a pissed off matt finally tracks you and frank down around 7:30 (by the scent of frank's cologne that he would know anywhere) and frank fires the first shot

"'bout time you showed up, red. don't you know it ain't polite to make a lady wait?"

"well I would have been on time if you had specified where this place was. do you know how many mini golf places there are in this city?"

"my bad, thought you'd be pickin' her up at her door with flowers too. guess that was just me though."

frank has the biggest grin on his face, meanwhile matt's cheeks are burning red, both from annoyance and from sprinting to catch up

but frank's victory is short lived when matt beckons you over with a charming smirk and an innocent request for help

"sweetheart, you mind helping me hit the ball? I don't exactly know where i'm aiming."

much to frank's dismay, he has to watch you press yourself up against matt's back, holding onto his hands that were around the golf club, and giggle instructions into his ear as you help him on where to aim

"aw now that's horseshit. you don't need her goddamn help, and you know it."

"i am blind, frank."

matt wears a cocky smirk with every ball you help him hit, but the more you start cheering for frank with how many perfect shots he's hitting (if there's one thing frank is good at it's aim), matt starts showing out too, and eventually the two men forget you're even playing with them bc they're competing against each other so hard

before they break out into a brawl in the sand pit, the three of you make your way to dinner, each of them insisting on holding one of your hands (which they refuse to let go of) so everyone walking in your direction has to go completely around the three of you

matt chose an incredibly romantic italian spot, and needless to say, the host was very confused seeing the three of you together (especially with the disgruntled looks on both of their faces bc they wanted you all to themselves)

not even five minutes pass before they're back at each other's throats

it starts with matt recommending a red wine to you and pronouncing the name of it wrong, to which frank sassily corrects him, and matt scowls across the table behind his red glasses

"what, you suddenly speak italian, castle?"

"i am italian, you dipshit."

matt, completely stunned by this new information, completely misses frank's insult and just stares blankly at him in surprise with raised brows

"what? since when?"

"the hell you mean since when? since I was born. ain't you s'posed to be some kinda genius or somethin'? I really gotta explain simple shit to you-"

"castle isn't italian-"

"no, but castiglione is. it got shortened to castle when my parents moved here from sicily-"

"and how the hell would I know that-"

"well maybe if you shut the fuck up every once in awhile-"

and this is where you have to intervene and redirect the conversation bc while them fighting over you was exciting and truthfully hot at first, it seems like they've spent a better half the night fighting each other, and that simply isn't acceptable

so you warn them that if they don't start playing nice, you'll leave them on the date alone together and go get your own dessert somewhere else

needless to say they suddenly start showing model behavior and redirect their attention where it should've been all along: on you

and i'll let your imagination run wild with how well that date goes and if you invite them both up for a drink or two ;)

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stevetonyweekly · 3 years

Text

SteveTony Weekly - August 15th

Happy Sunday!! Here’s what I’ve been reading this week. As always, leave your fic authors some love if you read and enjoy their stories!

**Indicates my recent favs

~*~

the wrong song by areiton (What If…? Fixit/500)

It takes three weeks before he stops smelling squid and blood every time he inhales.

It takes longer than that for him to accept that there was no way back.

building on muddy ground by InTheShadows (Barbarian AU/8K)

When barbarians successfully invade the castle Tony does not expect to live much longer. His parents have already been killed. He is sure to follow. The great Captain of the North is not exactly known for his mercy after all. That is why it is a complete surprise when he is kept alive instead. And not even for the purpose of becoming a bed warmer or slave. No, apparently the Captain has 'taken a liking to him' and means to keep him around for much more innocent purposes. For as long as he doesn't get tired of him that is. Until then all Tony can do is fearfully wait for that day.

let me hear (your battle cry) by areiton (Royalty AU/16K)

Steve shouted again, that damn battle cry that made Tony shudder, and he drove his shield up, slammed into the knight's helm, again and again until his arm came up, his sword dropping and---

Steve’s sword came to rest in the hollow of his throat.

For a heartbeat, the whole field, the spectators and court, held their breath.

And then he fell back a step and the trumpets sounded as he thrust his shield into the sky and wheeled around, grinning and wild-eyed, and searching for Tony.

Oh, Tony thought, a single dismayed realization

the bro code by Sullen (Getting Together/3k)

In a world where the Winter Soldier is found years earlier and is named Tony’s godfather, Zemo plays a different R-rated video and Siberia goes a little differently.

Or –

Steve breaks the bro code.

shine your light (i can’t see without it) by DobbyRocksSocks (Presumed Dead/16k)

When Tony loses Steve, he loses everything. Unable to stay in New York, he settles himself in the middle of nowhere, with only his bots and JARVIS for company. When Natasha and Bruce come to him for help, Tony can't say no, but what he finds is more than he can handle. With so many emotions warring, and so much confusion, can the team come back together when it matters?

i’m coming home with a question by anxious_soul (Established Relationship/4k)

In which Steve is coming home after his last tour and Tony's there to pick him up from the airport (with Bucky) and something unexpected happens.

AKA Bucky and Tony meet at therapy, Steve and Tony are introduced and things go up, then down, then up again.

dead man walking by spnaph (Canon divergent/8k)

Bucky was going to kill him.

Bucky was going to kill him and yet he couldn’t feel shame or regret for doing what he did.

Holy shit.

He slept with his brother’s best friend.

He was a dead man walking, he knew it.

love me and never leave me by Toshi_1234 (No Powers AU/10K)

Bucky and Tony got adopted by the Jarvis' and Bucky was the perfect older brother to Tony. Tony's graduation is in two days and Bucky is off on a mission in Iraq with Steve and he just wants Bucky to be there on his big day but Bucky said he couldn't make it. I suck at summaries.

an american celebrations by WilmaKins (PWP/9K)

One benefit of having finally dealt with all their issues, and been honest about all their feelings, is that Steve and Tony are actually so much closer than they were before Siberia...

Which, amongst other things, means a very happy birthday for Steve.

violets (happiness) by S_Horne (Kidfic/3k)

Morgan has always dreamt that her dad and her Uncle Steve would finally realise they were meant to be together. Maybe she can give them one last push as she introduces Steve to the wonders of the 21st century.

insomnia by Scavenge4Dreams (Established Relationship/10k)

Its 3am. Do you know where your Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist is?

if you never say your name out loud to anyone by theladyingrey42 (H/C/7K)

Sometimes, Steve has panic attacks.

Or at least he used to. Nowadays, he mostly just has conversations with Tony Stark.

Unbroken by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday) (A/B/O /134k)

Destiny looks a lot like Captain America when it walks through his door, and even at ten, Tony knows that Steve is something wonderful. He's a protector, a friend, someone to turn to when his father is angry and his mother is lost in a haze of pills, someone who loves Tony unconditionally and would do anything for him.

When he's 15 that faith is put to the test by a car crash, and then, something worse.

What begins as a friendship blossoms into something deeper, something nuanced-a bond, unshakeable.

Unbreakable

please let me get what i want (this time) by theappleppielifestyle (Getting Together/4k)

He wants to run a hand through his hair, bite down on his lip, rumple his shirt, mess him up a little and pull the Stark away until it’s just Tony, who doesn’t need to fake anything.

And there’s two minutes and fifty-three seconds left, according to the clock, and Steve hears it in his throat, and his heart is rattling around in his chest, and he feels like he’s going to overflow.

He looks over at Tony, and it bursts: IwantIwantIwantIwant, over and over, beating a rhythm at the back of his eyes.

Four Times Steve Said I Love You and One Time Tony Said It First by nightwalker (Getting Together/3k)

The words are easier for Steve to say, but that doesn't mean that Tony feels it any less.

if i time it right the thunder breaks (when i open my mouth) by nanasekei (Getting Together/12k)

“You know,” Tony mumbles, because Tony never stops talking. “When you say shit like - like that, it’s… It’s hard.” His voice is slurred now, his eyes closed, as if he’s not even sure he’s still saying anything aloud. “Because I know I should believe you, but I – I wanna believe it so bad, so fucking much, that it feels like I shouldn’t. Like, the second I believe it, the other shoe’s gonna drop, and you’re gonna find out you don’t mean it.”

Or: Five Times Steve told Tony he loved him, and one time he didn't need to

the strange case of tony stark’s pajamas by nanasekei (Bedsharing/8k)

Steve parted his lips and, thankfully, actual words came out, instead of the very embarrassing noise he, for a horrifying second, thought he might be about to make. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning on his back to stare at the ceiling. ��It’s your pajamas, you can wear whatever you want.”

There was a pause. Then Tony let out a low, short laugh.

“Good,” he said, turning around, leaving Steve to carefully count every crack in the ceiling to avoid staring at his back muscles.

In which sharing a bed with Tony should be easy, but, for some reason, it keeps getting harder.

***must love dogs by softanticipation (No Powers AU/43K)

Steve doesn't need to know much about Tony Stark to want to keep sleeping with him. In fact, he'd prefer to keep it that way.

But when Tony meets Steve's dog and gets unexpectedly attached, Steve has some decisions to make regarding his four-legged best friend and the guy he might know better than he thinks.

#stevetony #stevetony weekly #stony #fic rec #fic rec list #stony fic #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain america

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evarcana · 3 years

Text

Taking it out on you

Ev attends the court meeting only to learn that sometimes the second impressions are just as bad as the first ones.

characters: Ev Panopolis, consul Valerius and brief appearance of Volta

words: ~3k

warnings: alcohol (as expected)

notes: On some point I gave up on the idea of Ev being the apprentice, as she just does not have this "MC energy". So this is an introduction to her story, because there is no better way to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of this blog than to remember that a very long time ago I used to write fanfiction.

It has been almost a month already. Almost a month since she came to Vesuvia, almost a month since she was told that her services were not required here. The thought makes Ev frown, but she keeps a quick pace, the sound of her impatient steps on the marble floor echoing through the palace corridor.

It is just before eleven o’clock, and the last of crisp morning sun pours over the rich mauve of lustrous silk drapes and the gold leaf of intricately carved murals, drawing out the warm scent of orange blossom and beeswax from the polished panels of precious wood. Vesuvian palace is exactly what she was promised - a great wonder, and yet Ev doubts it could give any lesser impression while the backdrop to its striking opulence is the city torn apart by disease and grief.

There are no servants or visitors in sight, and Ev’s only company in this seemingly endless corridor are paintings on the walls, depicting what she can only guess are some of the proud moments of Vesuvian history - people and places so foreign to her.

She does simple math in her head: two months and two days ago she was marching down the corridor of a very different palace, eager to be on time for the meeting with Crown Princess Nafizah despite the quite literal last minute notice, and not knowing yet that she was about to hear details of this so-called diplomatic mission.

Back then it sounded straightforward enough. Prakra couldn’t ignore the news of Count Lucio's tragic death, not least because that meant Princess Nadia, the youngest daughter of the Prakran royal family, was left widowed and with the daunting task of handling the red plague epidemic in Vesuvia all on her own. Any ruler could do with an extra pair of hands and any country could benefit from the alliance with Prakra, especially in times of crisis like this. And it would have stayed straightforward if only the discovery of Countess Nadia’s mysterious illness and the unexpected, unreasonable, outrageous hostility of Vesuvian court did not bring this crisis to the whole new, now personal, level.

In theory, Ev did not have to deal with any of that. She could use the excuse that it was only appropriate to deliver such unsettling news about Nadia in person, go back and forget everything that happened in this palace like one of those unpleasantly bizarre dreams you get after a night of drinking. But Vesuvia was still the city Prakra cared about, Nadia’s city, and as far as Ev knew none of the people who came to be in charge of it were appointed by her. Prakran diplomatic presence was perhaps the only way to look after Nadia’s interests until she woke up. Even if Ev had no actual power over the court, returning to Prakra without accomplishing at least something felt like a failure, and failure has never been an option for Ev. With that in mind, she pressed the seal with enough force to imprint Prakran royal crest on the desk and not just on the drop of red wax marking the envelope, and stayed.

Now, after a month of living in the city, she has learned to see that there is more to her new role than just misfortunes. Her relocation allowance is generous, her new place is nicer than what she had in Prakra and she is getting rather used to the convenience of the wine shop next door. Even if parts of it are foreign and unwelcoming, Ev feels at ease in Vesuvia. The tension in her body relaxes, and she thinks maybe this palace can eventually get used to her too, but the thought faints away as soon as she sees the salon door. Ev presses a pile of papers closer to her chest and tells herself that she can think about everything else another time - the court meeting is about to start.

She pushes the door open but immediately freezes on the spot stricken by the gagging wave of nausea - nails dirty with soil and blood, sickly sweet buttercream pastries and rustle of feathers covered in mud. It is no more than a faint impression but even through the fogged mind Ev recognises the feeling - it is vestige, the afterimage of magic. She has felt it before, many times and in many different forms but never has it made her feel physically sick. What is even more unusual is that such a revolting sensation is coming from the palace quarters. One would expect tingles of bubbles from the charmed fountains of never ending sparkling wine or at least the impression of whispers, premium tea, treacle and bitter ambition from the walls which have been magically given ears, and not... whatever this is. Ev draws a deep breath, pushing down into her diaphragm and looks around the room. The salon is not set up for the court meeting, instead there is a tray of food and stacks of empty plates towering on almost every flat surface. Her eyes stop on greasy remains looking terribly out of place on the delicate porcelain plate and she unconsciously covers her mouth. Maybe she is mistaken after all - it is the strange smell of food and not some kind of creepy magic, and, more importantly, maybe this is not the salon she was looking for.

Before Ev gets a chance to mentally blame the chamberlain for giving her the wrong directions, a tiny figure appears from behind the chair. The white cornette is instantly recognisable and Ev is about to ask procurator Volta whether she is here for the court meeting too when she sees that behind the commotion of dark robes Volta is frantically trying to push the whole roast rack of lamb down her mouth. Dear gods. Somewhat unsurprisingly, one of the bones appears to be stuck. Clearly having not expected to have an audience, the procurator widens her eyes at Ev in a mixture of terror and shame. Unable to speak, after a few incoherent squeaks, she throws her tiny hands in the air helplessly, spattering herself with gravy and gestures to the open French doors leading to the balcony. Without giving it too much thought, Ev gives Volta a quick nod and takes an opportunity to escape the awkwardness of the scene.

Wrapped in the soft shade of the balcony, consul Valerius is casually leaning back in the chair, with the usual glass of wine in his hand. Even before she reaches the doors, Ev sets her eyes on his face. The consul is looking away, his face carved and unmovable, the tight knot of dark eyebrows making him look ireful and disgruntled, like one of those statues of stern gods she saw growing up in Zadith. Her next step lands much quieter and then, there steps in, Ev stops and stands very still wondering what thoughts could possibly bring this storm to Valerius’s face. Sun would suit him much more, she thinks, her eyes curiously trailing down the golden glints of his hair.

A loud snort catches Ev off guard and she realises that Valerius is now facing her, looking considerably more displeased than before, no doubt because of her. That’s more like it. How could she forget that this man is the very cause of her problems.

“Could I please have some of your time, consul?” she asks, heading straight towards him. Greetings seem excessive, they didn’t necessarily part on friendly terms last time.

“I didn't expect to see you here again.”

Ev allows herself a smirk. “I know.” I am not here to do what you expect from me. She stops inches away from his chair looking down at him, apparently enjoying the close proximity which, considering their formal relationship and the consul’s well known bad temper, could be regarded as both highly inappropriate and potentially reckless. But Valerius only turns away, more interested in his drink than in her.

“I have been studying the treasury records,” she continues, searching his face for any kind of reaction. His lips curl up in a sneer as he takes a sip of wine, but his eyes are still firmly fixed on the horizon. Ev follows his gaze expecting to see some radical change to the surrounding landscape, but there is only faint outline of the city roofs behind the lush green of the palace's vast grounds, - no columns of smoke, no ominous looking storm clouds gathering in the distance, nothing that could possibly be more interesting than her. Whatever. “Your tax system - ,” she hands Valerius neatly arranged papers, which he completely ignores,“- it is not working.”

“Vesuvian tax system remained largely unchanged for the last two generations, this is how these matters are handled traditionally,” says Valerius, once again denying Ev courtesy of eye contact.

Ev’s mouth twists at the sound of the last words. Too worried the conservative mindset might be contagious, she quickly withdraws her hand and takes a step back.

“I trust you understand that sometimes one should focus on what works, and not what is traditional,” she says, doing her best to disguise the growing irritation. “You don’t attract nearly as much foreign trade as you used to.”

What comes next is a very profound, uncomfortable silence. Ev sighs.

“Consul, you had plague in the city, people died,” her voice is louder now, “lots of people died”, and the irritation is obvious. “And Vesuvia cannot exist without its people. Somebody needs to bring food from the farmlands, make clothes, teach children, attend to the sick. Yes, in the past you could always import whatever you did not have but now people are scared to come because of the plague. You -”, she pauses in anticipation noticing Valerius shifting in his seat, but he only reaches for the bottle to top up his glass, “- you need to do something to make it attractive for them again. Lower the customs, lift the taxes for people whose skills you need, sell empty real estate cheap. There is plenty all around the city!”

Deep down Ev knows that none of these is going to work long term, but she doesn't care - she wants to do something and she wants to do it now.

Yet, nothing changes. She is still standing there, and he is still looking away. Ev would prefer him to disagree, start arguing with her - anything really, as long as it breaks this silence.

“Fine! If you don’t feel like changing this traditional system of yours, even temporarily, at least fix your mistakes.” Ev starts chaotically flipping through the papers searching for the one she needs, which would be a much easier task, if she was less flurried and if Valerius offered her a seat. She wonders whether he is now watching her, sneering at her struggle. “Your approved accounts, here,” this time she brusquely puts the paper in front of Valerius’s face blocking his view, “your numbers do not even add up! ”

For a split second she sees something on his face - a twitch, a flick of rage, and thinks that she has gone too far. But his question comes out in a calm, almost disinterested tone: “What makes you think that somebody like you is even qualified to check the city’s budget approved by the esteemed procurator Volta?”

A moment passes before Ev is able to break from staring at Valerius in disbelief. She glances to the salon where, judging by the sound, Volta has freed her mouth only to move to the next dish. Seriously? Perhaps she should be impressed that he managed to say it with the straight face.

And then there is a chilling sensation at the pit of Ev’s stomach. She asks herself what is going on here? What is this city under the reign of a person who questions everything and everyone except the obvious mistake in the accounts? And what is she - ? Angry, she reminds herself, is what she is, and throws a look at Valerius, who is taking another sip from his glass as in triumph. You don’t need to be qualified, you just need to have common sense. And you, Valerius, either don’t have it or you were not even bothered to look at what your court approves.

She pictures him lazily drinking wine, legs on the desk, his shirt unbuttoned, while completely ignoring his state duties. The image is irritating and yet not entirely unpleasant.

“We both know that I come from a family of alchemists and merchants. Trust me, I know how to count,” she says with a smile. It sounded right in her head, a ridiculous answer to the ridiculous question.

“I thought that during our last meeting you said that you had nothing to do with your witchcraft family.” A perfectly raised eyebrow, and that infuriating smirk.

Ev opens her mouth in protest but gives up quickly. Those were her exact words after all, save for the witchcraft part.

She begins to pace around the balcony avoiding looking at Valerius as much as possible. The consul clearly has a way of getting on her nerves, and she needs all her concentration if she wants to explain what exactly will happen to this goddamn city if they carry on with this approved budget.

“Think about the consequences for the people if this mistake is not corrected!” she shouts, her voice much louder than she would like it to be, and quickly turns to Valerius expecting a blowback. But the pale eyes are looking down, studying something on the floor, or on the edge of the fabric of her long sleeve, she really can’t tell. Oh gods, he is not even paying attention.

***

Valerius has firmly decided that he is not going to pay any attention.

The time of plague was exhausting: the palace suddenly full of people of all kinds and intentions promising to find a cure, pleas for help on the streets which he could not escape even behind the doors of the most expensive carriages, the count who was growing more desperate everyday and the white smoke of the Lazaret carried by the sea breeze towards the city, the memory of which still haunts him. And now there is the Satrinavas’ new pet here having an audacity to talk about his city’s problems - the problems which, out of all people, he should know the most about, he is the consul after all, and a Vesuvian.

Vesuvia he inherited is haggard and sad, and on top of that an enormous responsibility. The last thing he needs is a stranger questioning his authority, as if the incompetent court and the city demanding their beloved countess back have not been tiresome enough. Valerius lets out a short, barely audible sigh. He just wants this farce to be over so he can go back to thinking.

But the witch is not planning to stop, if anything she seems to be enjoying it. Look at her. Absorbed by herself and her ludicrous ideas, she is loud and talks too much with her hands. Her dress keeps slipping down the shoulder draping around the soft curve of a half barred breast every time she does one of these unnecessary, overconfident gestures. Valerius has absolutely no idea whether this is deliberate or she is simply unaware of the indecency which keeps drawing his eyes.

He tries to distract himself by taking a drink of wine only to discover that his glass, just like the air around him, is full of this loud perfume of hers. Harsh cinnamon, incense and patchouli, very much alike their owner, have no concept of the personal space ruining the perfect balance of his red. The wine is not helping. He catches himself looking at the shoulder again. In fact, absolutely useless. He sets his unfinished glass aside on the small table. Valerius has had enough.

***

“Enough!” Valerius shouts. His voice is suddenly deep and rather forceful and Ev hates that it has the desired effect on her. She stops and looks at him. “You were not invited to the court meeting.” The consul’s face looks awfully angry now.

Ev narrows her eyes. “And what exactly are you doing at your court meeting?”

“That should not be a concern of the Prakran subject”, Valerius says, his words dripping with poison, “or whoever you are.”

“I am a diplomatic emissary -,” she does not get a chance to finish.

“Leave!”

Ev wants to scream and protest, but even she knows better than to yell at somebody who outranked her. She draws a breath. One, two, three. All right.

“I only came to give you the papers”, she says coldly, her eyes still locked on his, and leans forward to place the documents on the table. “But I am taking this away, one should work without the distraction of wine.”

With these words Ev snatches the glass from the table, turns away and heads toward the exit as fast as she can without breaking into running. She does not want to look like she is scared that Valerius will grab her by the arm. If anything she is slightly disappointed that he doesn’t.

“My regards to the court,” she raises her hand and waves the glass in the air without looking back. Behind her there is a sound of paper being torn apart.

***

Ev only slows down when she reaches the main staircase.

Suddenly feeling very tired, she leans against the handrail. Again, what is she doing here? Why did she need to turn up in person when she could send a letter? Ev closes her eyes and rubs her fingers together as if feeling for answers in the whorls of her own skin, and remembers about the glass in her hand. Another bad decision. It would have been wiser to take the bottle.

She raises the glass to her lips and breathes in the wine. It’s pleasant. Perhaps she would prefer its company to the boring palace affairs too. Ev twists the glass in her hand, eying the smooth rim before drawing one long sip. It leaves a blush mark of her lips firmly planted on the surface which she studies for a few seconds. “You better be as angry as I am now”, she says to the dark liquid at the bottom of the glass.

#no i didnt read the whole thing myself #the arcana #consul valerius #the arcana fic #the arcana fanfic #evpanopolis #valerius x mc #ev x valerius

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binniedeactivated · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. || c.bg

─▸🖤 ❝ @[@𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.. ]

✎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

✎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐲, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

✎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦. 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

a/n; everything is fictional!

the night was young but more often than not it was filled with bustling chatter and soft violins stringing through the ballroom. alas, it was the celebration of Queen Choi’s 65th birthday and the parliament was gathering tonight on the sparkling marble floors of the choi residence. in their normal herd, the choi brothers were dappered up their white ruffle collared dress shirts and suit jackets in the midst of the crowd alongside their cousins, prince taehyun and prince kai. no matter what the occasion was, they were always dressed gorgeously. each of their hair was parted and curled beautifully over top of their eyebrows. their suits were made of the highest quality and tailored to their body shapes. they wore the finest of jewelry plated with pure gold. being born into a royal family full of riches had it’s perks and they always shone brightly on the five.

“good evening your highness. might I compliment you on how handsome you look tonight?”. she bowed graciously in front of choi beomgyu who was currently taking a sip of his white wine. he swallowed just before staring her in her hopeful eyes. “no you may not. what you can do though is give me and my blood some space to talk. carry on”. he says before waving her off. she frowns shortly and walks away, leaving the rest of the four chuckling in her trail.

“damn. so much for being courted”. taehyun mumbles taking a sip of his wine as well. yeonjun playfully pushes his youngest brother’s shoulder. “you know you’re up next to get married. it’s only a matter of time before mother arranges it”.

beomgyu shrugs, “I don’t want anyone mother has for me. nor do I want any of these women who court me either. all they’re looking for is get rich quick schemes anyways”.

“then what are you going to do? if you don’t get married soon you will never hold a higher spot in parliament”. kai adds.

“literally. while all of us, yeonjun hyung, taehyun, kai and me, are being crowned you’re still going to be prince beomgyu”. soobin laughs holding his glass up to the air, sipping the last of his beverage in the sea of the group’s laughter.

“with no type of power or authority”. taehyun adds making the four of them laugh even harder. beomgyu rolls his eyes. he could admit, maybe it was embarrassing that even the youngers Taehyun and Kai were getting married before him. but that was only because the boys knew who they wanted and courted them accordingly. and also because the boys married safely within royalty.

but beomgyu knew who he wanted as well. only, he wasn’t allowed to marry her. for she was of royalty of course but she was of different blood. she was apart of the choi family’s biggest rival, King and Queen Hendrix.

and of course right at the very thought of her, she arrived. see, even if the choi’s and hendrix’s were rivals no matter what-- all royal families were invited to all events and celebrations and were required to attend, almost being forced to make peace each time both families saw each other.

“here they go with their bullshit. if they start anything this time it’s going to be a problem”. yeonjun grumbles watching the King and Queen walk in with cheshire cat smiles and folks bowing to them accordingly. it was only a matter of time before the both of them approached the boys and of course they were all required to bow.

“nice to see that you all are aging well. perhaps when you’re crowned you’ll assist our Princes with any decision making in the kingdom”. Queen hendrix spoke holding her head high and her lips tight. She always had this sweet tone in her voice laced with demise. heuning kai nods. “of course your highness. we’ll all make a wonderful royal family”. she gave them another smug glance and made a hmph noise just before walking off. as soon as she was out of sight yeonjun sucks his teeth.

“i swear you’re such a kiss up heuning”.

“what am I supposed to do? wave her off like beomgyu hyung does his courts? no thank you I don’t want to get killed”.

they were arguing but choi beomgyu was eyeing her. yes, princess aaliyah. she happened to be wearing a brown sparkly mermaid tale gown. her hair was done up in a high curly ponytail with some curly strands hanging down in front of her face and diamond earrings dangling at her neck. her almond shaped eyes immediately met beomgyu’s and a smirk flickered at the corner of her thick umber glossed lips. he smirks back and let’s his eyes wander her body.

pft. it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done it before.

she adjusts her jewelry before strutting her way over.

“and here comes bitchy princess”. tyun says, chewing on the leftover ice in his glass. soobin rolls his eyes. “why is she coming over here?”.

“to talk about how her brothers are going to make better kings than us. what the hell else is new”. yeonjun adds.

“good evening”. she bows. “I see you gentlemen aren’t socializing much. it’s hard to be crowned when you barely know anything about your people”.

“you just arrived your highness. may I ask, how would you know what we’ve been doing?”. beomgyu snarls.

“i assume it isn’t anything different from what you all do at any other occasion”.

“and why is it any of your concern?”. beomgyu sneers again. the boys were silently laughing on the inside. beomgyu was the only one who was never afraid of talking to princess aaliyah the way she deserved without consequences. it was mainly why they always let him do the talking whenever she came around.

she licks her upper set of teeth and smirked at his attitude. it was sexy. “you’re soon to be crowned with my brothers it’s always of my concern”.

“well I think there’s some time until then isn’t there? run along your highness”.

she sucks her teeth and he steals short glances at her boobs almost spilling out her dress. “you’re right. I have better things to do other than approach a bunch of undeserving halfwits. if you’ll excuse me”. she replies arrogantly before strutting away, beomgyu’s eyes following her petite frame until she was almost out of sight.

“did you see how defeated she looked? ah! that shit was priceless”. yeonjun laughs amongst the boys once she was finally away. “i swear hyung I don’t know how you aren’t dead already. if that was any of us we’d be gone by the time we take our next breath”. taehyun mentions. beomgyu laughs with them. “I don’t know either. I have to use the bathroom though. I’ll be right back”. he assures.

“fuckk mmh”. she whimpers trying to keep her volume at a minimum. they knew that if anyone were to find out about their affairs they’d be getting exiled. but that didn’t keep choi beomgyu’s head from under aaliyah’s dress. as soon as they bustled into the wash room he sat her on top of the washing machine and proceeded to eat her shamelessly.

he wraps his tongue around her clit and sucks her wet folds generously, holding her legs open with his hands. he glares up at her with the most innocent eyes while he was doing so ripping her heart into shreds. he wrangles his tongue along each and every part of her making her back arch in absolute bliss. she felt herself. pound at the feeling of his slimy tongue sucking on her sensitive nub.

“fuck! gyu you’re such a good boy for me”. she moans in a whisper running her hands through his hair. she tongue kisses her clit attentively. “you taste so fucking good”. he praised just before sticking his tongue inside of her. he presses his thumb against her swollen nub while tongue fucking her sensitive core. she pants with beads of sweat glissading down her chest. her hips stuttered against his lips.

and beomgyu liked it. he loved when he was the one pleasuring her. he loved seeing her pretty face contorted in pleasure. he loved how erotic she sounded when she moaned. he loved how sometimes she’d get so wet for him he could see it through her pantties. he loved having her much needed bliss at his disposal. and he didn’t care what he had to do to get his fix.

he always ate her slow and steady, taking his time but spending quality time in the places she loved, licking and sucking like his life depended on it. he dug into her thighs with his hands and dragged his tongue up and down her folds. he’d bob his head obediently sucking on her and moaning at her taste. she clutches his hair shaking at his speed. he ate painfully slow but it felt better that way. she loved when he took his precious time eating her as if it was his art.

but most importantly she enjoyed the risk of it all. him eating her when she knew it was forbidden. but she couldn’t get enough of beomgyu’s tongue and his lips. the way he fucked her hard and rough and looked at her like she was the best thing to ever happen to him.

“oh god I’m going to c-cum”. she whines and beomgyu did nothing but ignore her cries and continue to let his tongue ruin her in every possible way. each time he slips his tongue out it was left with more precum than it went in with and he loved it all too much. he cradles her hips to his face to deepen the thrusts and she shakes at the overbearing feeling. “fuckk you’re so good with your mouth”. she breathes with her eyes rolling to the back of her head. she steadily grinds her hips down on his tongue.

“yes fuck my mouth please”. he begs.

“promise me you’ll only eat me like this choi beomgyu”. she pants desperately trying to chase the orgasm she needed.

he squeezes her thighs feeling himself get hard at the sound of her needy noises and squirming.

“I promise i’ll always eat your pussy like this”

#choi beomgyu #beomgyu smut #tomorrow by together #beomgyu drabble #beomgyu imagines #beomgyuxblack!girl #ambw

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diyeoracha · 4 years

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IwaOi Fanfiction Masterlist with 90+ Works

Hello! In celebration accumulating over 290 bookmarks on my AO3 account featuring IwaOi, Haikyuu S4 part 2, and @haikyuuweek2020 (Day 7 - Free Choice), I decided to create a masterlist of all of my favorite Iwaoi fics in order to keep myself organized as well as contributing to more traffic for those works! Works are split up into genres such as alternate universe (either not childhood friends or set on Earth), angst, canon compliant (post timeskip with spoilers), canon divergent (childhood friends but divergent timeline post timeskip), high school, and university au

Formatting update: Jan 13, 2021 (spacing is wonky on the mobile app!).

Fic update: Jan 7, 2021

This is incomplete as I got distracted while re-reading a lot of these and have only gone through half of my bookmarks, but feel free to check my own page here for the rest of them! I really do hope you guys enjoy reading these and leave comments and kudos! Please reblog and like so more people can enjoy

Titles marked with (♡) are my absolute favorites and there’s a chance I cried while reading them but otherwise they’re in alphabetical order

Alternate Universe

an allegory of all the things we could’ve been

Word count: 16k

Summary: “I don’t know anything about some red string,” Iwaizumi murmurs into the cracks of Oikawa’s skin, “or even about lifetimes or fate. But no matter where you are, I’ll find you. Gods or otherwise.” Reincarnation AU

And All the Prince’s Men

Word count: 65k

Summary: “Father only loves that which he owns, and I am the one thing that can never truly be his.” Royalty AU

Built a Temple in Me

Word count: 55k

Summary: Up the mossy mountain steps, past the komainu guardians and the faded red gate, and beyond the boundaries of the green shrine—that’s where the forest and the spirit world within it lies. That’s were Hajime met him, and where their story began.But intertwining of destinies can be ugly business, Hajime finds, when their first meeting begins with blood and the too-human eyes of a beast. God Oikawa AU

Quote: It fills his heart anyway, heals the hole in his chest that had been bleeding since he cut Tooru so forcibly from him.

Cotton Breathing

Word count: 13k

Summary: Long-distance and summer only but childhood friends AU

Conquering the Great King

Word count: 105k

Summary: Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

Quote: Oikawa's eyes twitched wide for less than a second, his knee pressed in hard against Iwaizumi's thigh, "I may be gorgeous, but I'm not a doll."

dear diary, i met a boy

Word count: 15k

Summary: Iwaizumi's first impression of his upstairs neighbor involves getting woken up at two in the morning to the sound of Oikawa singing along to trashy pop music. He'd thought it would get better, but it all just goes downhill from there. Modern AU

Desperado

Word count: 82k

Summary: Clearly Iwaizumi had a checkered past. Kyoutani has never asked about it, nor has Iwaizumi ever brought it up. He knows it’s a sore spot for his mentor, just like the gorgeous Monte Carlo he keeps hidden away is, so he leaves it alone. Out on the streets, you learn a little something about when to turn a blind eye in order to survive; Kyoutani knows better than most to leave the past of men like Iwaizumi well alone. Heist AU

Even Heroes (have the right to dream)

Word count: 20k

Summary: Oikawa Tooru, ace reporter of the superhero beat of Asahi Shimbun, hates superheroes. Or maybe he just hasn’t met the knight one yet. Superhero AU

♡Infinite Risks

Word count: 8k

Summary: “It’s my fate,” Oikawa responds slowly. He’s crying. “It’s too lonely,” Iwaizumi’s heart sounded broken. “And I’m not there with you. Not really.” Edge of Tomorrow AU

In Defense of Reptiles

Word count: 9k

Summary: In their seventh year, Oikawa is chosen to be the Hogwarts champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and Iwaizumi suffers. Harry Potter AU

Quote: “You are so spoiled,” Iwaizumi tells him, but lets him shuffle down until Iwaizumi’s hand is now running through Oikawa’s hair instead of rubbing his shoulder.

In the Telling

Word count: 6k

Summary: Muggleborn Iwaizumi could not be less impressed with pureblood Oikawa Tooru. Harry Potter AU

♡Lockdown

Word count: 72k

Summary: Within the first few months of his stay, Oikawa gets caught up in a war between cellblocks, becomes a prime target, and must decide just how far he's willing to go to protect Iwaizumi Hajime. Prison AU

♡long nights, no peace

Word count: 18k

Summary: It's the steady knowledge that Iwaizumi Hajime will always be someone that he can rely on, that no matter what the world throws at the two of them, they share in a piece of each other's soul. Pacific Rim AU

Quote: Quiet settles between them softly, like the warm pressure of the blanket, or Iwaizumi's fingers curling to lightly hold the fabric of Oikawa's shirt.

The Long Light

Word count: 36k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime's seventh year at Hogwarts begins, and begins, and begins, and begins. Somehow, Oikawa Tooru is always there. Harry Potter AU

Magic Man

Word count: 12k

Summary: Oikawa is named the most desirable wizard in France. Iwaizumi is not impressed. Harry Potter AU

Quote: You keep saying partner or them. Is it rude of me to ask you to clarify?

Meet me in the grey area

Word count: 24k

Summary: Set in a hero/villain AU with Iwa as our trusty hero and Oikawa as our charming villain

Saw You at the Fish Market

Word count: 14k

Summary: In other words, Oikawa befriends hot part-time worker Iwaizumi and tries to impress him both off and on the court, in hopes of more.

♡♡ (sing with me) A Song of Conquest and Fate

Word count: 26k

Summary: When Seijou receives a missive from Aobajousai to discuss a potential peace, its emperor Oikawa Tooru could not have foreseen the series of events that would follow. Historical fantasy AU

Similar Creatures

Word count: 53k

Summary: "What's your name?" "Whatever you want it to be."(Or, Oikawa gets directions from an attractive stranger on a street corner.). Escort AU

♡Something Like Us

Word count: 28k

Summary: Friends since childhood, Oikawa and Iwaizumi now live together, both playing for the National Team. It's no secret that athletes who are bonded perform better. So if the two of them happen to bond...It'd be for the good of the team, right? A/B/O AU

Space

Word count: 44k

Summary: Tries not to think of his rooftop garden, or the apartment he used to inhabit, or Hajime’s broken expression on the night they whispered their goodbyes before Tooru’s launch, attempting to push it all to the back of his mind behind visions of this alien world terraformed. Astronaut AU

Stop the Time

Word count: 10k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, E.R. nurse at University of Tokyo Hospital. Hospital AU

♡♡The Loyalty of A Traitor

Word count: 76k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime was an undercover officer with a single objective: Infiltrate the Seijoh Syndicate of the Yakuza and tear them down from the inside out. His primary target was the boss, Oikawa Tooru. The job itself was simple enough, until Iwaizumi got in too deep and absconded not only from the mission, but from the city itself. Yakuza AU

These Flowers I Stole For You

Word count: 3k

Summary: ANBU don't cry. They tear themselves apart, bit by bit, and then they stitch themselves whole again. Naruto AU

on shipwreck shore

Word count: 8k

Summary: “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and feed you to the basilisks,” Iwaizumi says conversationally. “You can’t do that, I’m your boss,” Oikawa sings, positively sparkling. “Also we’re partners, which means,” he points at Iwaizumi and leans in, “you’re stuck with me.” Detective AU

Page 305 of 304

Word count: 53k

Summary: “…she called you ‘papa’,” iwaizumi managed. oikawa just stared for a moment longer before relaxing in a smile. “yeah. cute, right? but you can call me ‘daddy’ if you want.”

Temporary fix

Word count: 12k

Summary: “And you’ve shampooed his hair how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” A/B/O AU

Tokyo Boy

Word count: 16k

Summary: He has feelings for Iwaizumi Hajime, who probably has casual lovers just like him in every major city he visits on business. Oikawa is just his Tokyo Boy, just another pit-stop on Iwaizumi’s travels. Businessman AU

Trial by Fire

Word count: 78k

Summary: (lawyer!AU - in which Iwaizumi loves his objections, Oikawa is beautiful, and they have more chemistry than two opposing attorneys probably should.)

Watch Me

Word count: 32k

Summary: Oikawa's a cam model. It’s been a month since Iwaizumi first spoke in his chat. When they meet in person, things get complicated. Cam model AU

Angst

open when

Word count: 1k

Summary: Iwaizumi knew it was coming, but it still hurt. It still hurt when he opens one letter and drowns it in the tears he cannot keep at bay.

Chasing Paper Suns

Word count: 10k

Summary: Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart

Quote: “ ‘it’s just—I’m just trying so hard—’‘What, and I’m not?’

Timeless (We Have 30 Days)

Word count: 12k

Summary: Or AU where you're branded 50 days before you die. But Oikawa doesn't tell anyone so now there's only 30 days left.

the weight of water

Word count: 6k

Summary: “Again,” he says, the smallest tremor in his voice, and Oikawa blinks at him a moment before smiling, soft and sweet. “Iwa-chan,” he replies, and Iwaizumi closes his eyes. “Again.” “Iwa-chan.”

Canon Compliant

Are You Listening?

Word count: 4k

Summary: 30 times oikawa said i love you and 1 time he didn't have to

Quote: “Iwa-chan, watch out for the log—!” Oikawa looked on in horror as his best friend tripped and fell flat on his face.

Edge of the balcony

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwaizumi looks older, he realizes. Oikawa knew he had aged as well, and so did everyone around him, but the thing was when you see people often, you don't notice the subtle changes in appearance. And Oikawa hadn't seen Iwaizumi in four years.

How can this loser ever win

Word count: 2k

Summary: everyone is in stupid love with Iwaizumi Hajime and he has no idea

♡♡♡Lost in Translation

Word count: 9k

Summary: Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women's volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

maybe we could be enough

Word count: 9k

Summary: iwaizumi hums in reply as the car goes silent, frank ocean crooning from the speakers. they stop at a red light when iwaizumi feels eyes at the side of his face, and turns to look at oikawa.

Most people never even get a single high school rival

Word count: 5k

Summary: Team Argentina gets to know Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer.

Primavera

Word count: 8k

Summary: They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Quote: Did you know that distance is only me, growing towards you?

♡♡♡rest on your laurels

Word count: 4k

Summary: In Iwaizumi’s heart of hearts, untouched by time, they are young and alive, burning with the hearth of home and bright as winter light. Unbreakable. Invincible.

♡♡♡Something Borrowed

Word count: 16k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

‘Til Infinity

Word count: 2k

Summary: “Hey,” he says, “that cloud looks kind of like a dick.”

Quote: “I got you ladybug”

♡♡♡ You Set Off a Dream In Me

Word count: 15k

Summary: In which Oikawa is 41 and ready to retire. He's at the top of his game and ready to find a new challenge. Turns out his new challenge is pretty familiar. It's high school, round 2.

Quote: A past with an Iwaizumi that wasn’t on the opposite side of the net, monsters on all sides, guiding a setter that had lived the dream left behind in the ruins of Tooru’s past self.

Canon Divergent

a world alone

Word count: 60k

Summary: Iwaizumi has his medical books on the musculoskeletal system. Oikawa has his research papers on parallel universes. It isn't until much, much later that they realize they have each other.

♡Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

Summary: Iwa-chan's leaving Kapan. Tooru's not sure he can forgive him, but he's not going to admit his long-held feelings, either. A trip to Miyajima complicates everything.

Quote: There are only two things that have ever broken Oikawa Tooru’s heart. Iwa-chan would say Tooru has no heart to break, but that’s simply untrue.

Count your blessings, it goes 1,2,3, me

Word count: 7k

Summary: He's unsettled by the undefined boundaries of their relationship so it's all his luck that he accidentally wins three wishes to be granted just for him, and all that comes to mind is Iwaizumi.

Quote: Now, as an adult, past convenience of circumstance and the haze of hormonal lust, exactly none of his feelings have worn off

♡♡♡the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

♡days fall away

Word count:17k

Summary: Except now he’s back home, so close to his old haunts and to Oikawa himself, and it's—weird.

Quote: “You and Tooru,” he begins, and then shrugs. “I was just thinking, you look at each other a lot.” And he walks away, leaving Hajime winded, and sort of aching, somewhere deep in his chest. Whatever that means.

♡here comes your man

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3 Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties. Doctor AU

♡♡In damp earth my body

Word count: 15k

Summary: Onscreen, the nation’s favorite setter has arranged himself so that he’s bowing, forehead pressed to the court, like he’s thanking everyone for their kindness thus far, like he’s asking for forgiveness. Hajime thinks: shit, it’s really happening

In the Business of Love

Word count: 22k

Summary: Meet Oikawa Tooru: He's a best-selling shoujo manga artist, a hardcore romantic and you won't believe where he's getting his lovey dovey fodder from...Enter Iwaizumi Hajime: He's Oikawa's best friend, a realist who also happens to be a wedding magazine writer despite not believing in romance...

Quote: A flare of pride lit in Oikawa as he watched Iwaizumi's eyes crinkle with mirth and in that yawning second, it bloomed into a warmth that bordered on a burn, forcing a bittersweet inhale.

it's been so long (nobody knows me the way you do)

Word count: 8k

Summary: Tooru hums, only half-listening. Somewhere along the way, Hajime’s palm has settled itself over the curve of Tooru’s cheek, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw.

Quote: Iwaizumi blushes even more. “That you’re here, I mean. I’m happy that you’re here. With me.”

♡♡♡Mint

Word count: 19k

Summary: It's the December after Iwaizumi’s last year in university when Tokyo welcomes him with a new ad campaign for Bright Days toothpaste, and Oikawa Tooru—fresh off a run at the 2016 Summer Olympics—has decided to grace the city with his signature grin, a flip of his wayfarer sunglasses, and the most irrepressible tag line for the signboard above.

Quote: "To be able to tell him, in the new year." This comes under Oikawa's breath, so low that Matsukawa and Hanamaki can't hear, and the game continues.

Six-Month Lover

Word count: 89k

Summary: Iwaizumi barks out a laugh. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that you made a PowerPoint presentation about why we should date.” Oikawa doesn’t tell him the file has existed for the last twelve years, constantly receives updates, and that the original copy contained almost a hundred slides before he forced himself to get a grip.

Special Relativity

Word count: 22k

Summary: Time moves differently for people in different inertial reference frames. Oikawa goes on a two-year exploratory mission in space. Iwaizumi's been waiting for a lot longer than that.

♡♡sunset towns

Word count: 33k

Summary: In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

♡♡Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count: 19k

Summary: It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

Quote: Oikawa’s grin in the last set of the morning’s game. Oikawa’s grin as they sat on their asses on a golf course. Oikawa’s grin when they were in college. When they were in high school. When they were twenty-two, seventeen, fifteen, twelve, six.

High School

Bet On It

Word count: 13k

Summary: Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Quote: The whole instant-compliance thing was seriously creeping him out. Oikawa from a week ago would have made a crack about how if he'd wanted something cold, he could have just put his face on Hajime's shoulder.

Betweens

Word count: 2k

Summary: Iwaizumi is asleep in the club room. Oikawa is blindingly awake in the club room. The sun moves slowly across the sky, and Iwaizumi’s skin is gold underneath it. Oikawa watches the changing shadows on Iwaizumi’s face and thinks about nothing in particular.

Don’t think too much

Word count: 6k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a confusing, drunken encounter and then deal with the (sticky) consequences.

Quote: As soon as that thought crossed his mind, though, Oikawa did what he always did: exactly the opposite of what Hajime wanted

Gates

Word count: 12k

Summary: The day after their graduation ceremony, they drive to the beach at Shirahama. Iwaizumi drives, because it’s his car, and as he has told Oikawa on multiple occasions, he’d rather die than let him touch the wheel.

Quote: ‘Yeah,’ he says, because they’re on a beach, and they’re supposed to be on a metaphorical journey, and they’re supposed to be growing up, and completing rites of passage, so it’s honesty, today - just for today, at least.

♡♡i sing the body electric

Word count: 8k

Summary: It was never part of the plan, falling in love with his best friend, but then again, most things in Iwaizumi’s life that involve Oikawa rarely unfold the way he thinks they will.

Quote: But Iwaizumi thinks about Oikawa laughing with that girl in the low light of the gym, a particular kind of quiet intimacy that Iwaizumi’s only ever read about in books hovering in the air, and all it makes him feel is small and petty and spiteful.

it’s better than words

Word count: 3k

Summary: [ or : oikawa makes iwaizumi participate in three bonding activities for new friends, and iwaizumi just wants to know why oikawa's being so weird about this]

Make sure you cross the line

Word count: 4k

Summary: With graduation just around the corner, Iwaizumi knows he has to gather the courage to really ask Oikawa out.

Quote: He’s been asking Iwaizumi to go out with him every single day this past week, increasingly panicked about getting his time and attention now that they’re nearing the end of this season of their lives.

Only the jellyfish know

Word count: 6k

Summary: Their third and final year at Aoba Jousai has come to an end, and the guys decide to go to the beach the day after graduation. That day, the ocean water is salty, the watermelon is sweet, and the people are sweeter.

static

Word count: 6k

Summary: Being snowed in with all of Seijou volleyball in his childhood home brings back a lot of memories for Iwaizumi, because it's kinda Oikawa's childhood home too.

Quote: It's fate that brought them together and choice that keeps them that way. The closest description in Hajime’s vocabulary is partners, but only because Oikawa taught him what its true definition is.

Told before and told again

Word count: 3k

Summary: This is how Hajime and Tooru fall in love, through the accounts of those around them.

Quote: When Oikawa lets out a long, heavy breath, Iwaizumi looks up at him and frowns, and flings a towel over Oikawa’s head to cover his face. Then, he tugs, once, on Oikawa’s fingers, and leads him down the hallway, Oikawa walking quietly in tow.

♡we can do better than that

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

Quote: Because Iwaizumi’s known Oikawa nearly all his life and never felt anything more than vague affection usually followed by intense irritation for him. But then suddenly at eighteen years old and nearly two weeks into a very badly planned road trip, it’s like someone flipped a switch somewhere inside Iwaizumi

♡when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“ My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?” OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

reassemble it

Word count: 15k

Summary: When Tooru was six years old, he discovered—unbeknownst to him at the time—two of the most important things in his life: volleyball and Iwaizumi Hajime. It was ironic that he had stumbled upon them hand in hand—quite literally, too.

♡things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he's in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only a while.)

Quote: Iwaizumi’s expression right now is less terrified than it used to get back then, but he’s tight-lipped with concern, and his broad body blocks out other passengers as if their stares might be a danger to Tooru too.

University AU

An Archaeology of Affection

Word count: 23k

Summary: For Hajime, it is a riddle and simultaneously so evident. It fills his chest, surging like water, paints heat up his neck. In retrospect, it eats up his days, makes them its own until it feels like his heart has always been in his throat at the smile thrown over Oikawa’s shoulder, the stilling of his fingers on Hajime’s sleeve.

closure

Word count: 22k

Summary: In his first year of university, Oikawa builds a new friendship and upgrades an old one. Or: Ushijima is not a great wingman, but he tries his best.

Quote: “On the first day of his university career, Oikawa Tooru walks into his dorm, spots his assigned roommate, and turns one hundred and eighty degrees and walks right back out. He dials a familiar phone number - the first one he ever memorized - and starts complaining before Iwaizumi even gets the chance to say hello. “Iwa-chan,” he says, “tell me why Ushiwaka is in my dorm room.”

♡♡♡galaxies, within you

Word count: 21k

Summary: Hajime and Tooru move in together at the start of university. Too bad they’re stuck with the two gremlins that haunt their apartment.

Quote: I AM A HEADASS

Hands to yourself

Word count: 11k

Summary: He missed his parents, and he missed Takeru, and Takeru's badly behaved puppy. He missed Aoba Jousai, and he missed the volleyball team. He even missed Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, just a little.

Home, and how we made ours

Word count: 3k

Summary: “No, I like it here.” There’s a rustling as Iwaizumi shifts, inching closer. “I like it here, as in this crappy apartment—with you.”

Quote: “Do your fights end up being like—you know, about actual things and then extending into toddler days and suddenly you’re accusing Iwaizumi of kissing the girl you used to like in preschool?”

in progress to you

Word count: 6k

Summary: The eventuality of Oikawa and Iwaizumi falling toward each other is dramatically lackluster. Still, it's a process to go through.

Quote: “But what if you didn’t eat my pudding all the time?” Iwaizumi asks flatly, ignoring the way Oikawa is slapping his thigh to get out of his chokehold. “Do you think I buy them for you, huh? I buy them for me, you turd.”

Like we’re made of starlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: (a look into iwaizumi hajime’s journey of falling in love with oikawa tooru, from when they’re babies meeting for the first time to young adults moving in together.)

Ninety nine percent

Word count: 14k

Summary: more than anything, oikawa tooru wants to be with iwaizumi hajime, but he's only ninety nine percent of the way there.

Quote: Their ace was lining up for the ball, knees bent and arm pulled back, just as Tooru tosses the ball……to Hajime.

no sleep in the city

Word count: 7k

Summary: Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Quote: “I was only telling Hanamaki literally yesterday that your personality isn’t as vile as before,” Iwaizumi informs, slightly stiff from the way Oikawa’s got an arm looped through his own. “Why do you make me such a liar to people I care about?”

Out of nowhere

Word count: 8k

Summary: They move in together after graduation and it's doing weird things to Iwaizumi's heart. He's a little in denial about it.

Quote: Oikawa excitedly ran up to him when Iwaizumi came home with groceries the other day. Not about the food but just to say how boring everything is when Iwaizumi's not there, eyes shining, and he couldn't meet his gaze after from blushing down to his neck. He doesn't know how much more he can take.

♡♡shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

Quote: “I’m in love with you,” Oikawa tells him three days after they graduate junior high, head in his lap and hands gently folded over his chest and completely and totally unconcerned that he’d just shattered Hajime’s world.

Terpischore

Word count: 38k

Summary: They’d ended up going to different universities, Tooru and he. The distance was good for them. The confession Hajime dropped in both their laps wasn’t. That’s how it’d ended – a lifetime of friendship crumbled to dust in the space of five minutes. (Or, a lesson in learning to move on from things you can't have, in finding old loves in new ways and in understanding that life is never truly simple... till it is.)

terrarium

Word count: 11k

Summary: At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

these foolish things (remind me of you)

Word count: 3k

Summary: Oikawa helps Iwaizumi move into his new college dorm.

Quote: He’s desperate for something to happen. It must show on his face because Iwaizumi blushes and looks away. The thing is, Oikawa always looks at him like this when Iwaizumi isn’t paying attention.

They say it rains diamonds on Jupiter

Word count: 35k

Summary: "You're in love with him. "Hajime considers denying it. "Yeah," he says instead.

Quote: “Share the weight of your feelings with me, Hajime wants to beg when he hears Tooru's first hitched breath. Let me carry some of your burdens”

to be first, to be best

Word count: 26k

Summary: Hajime is apparently something of a masochist, and as he stares down at the tie-dyed AREA51 T-shirt in his hands, he thinks “I’m totally in love with this asshole, aren't I?”

Undecipherable

Word count: 4k

Summary: "Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

Quote: Because for all the bravado, for all the flaunting Oikawa does, he wants Hajime by his side, and no one else.

♡we shine like diamonds

Word count: 26k

Summary: "You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Where you are (I’ll be)

Word count: 6k

Summary: Theirs is a love that starts out like a seed and it takes two sets of hands tending it for a shoot to appear. There are no dramatic declarations of love, only a pair of hands that find each other again and again and again.

Quote: Oikawa broke off into giggles as Hajime slowed the descent of his hand from a slap to the back of Oikawa’s head to a gentle ruffle of the taller boy’s hair

♡♡with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Quote: He knows they’re too close. Iwaizumi knows it too, and they both decided to move in together anyway.

Your love is sunlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: It's Iwaizumi's birthday, and they have a talk about the future.

Quote: But Hajime doesn’t think any present could top this: them, kissing in a sun-dappled bathroom, Oikawa’s skin warm under his hands, and the promise of a life together stretched out before them.

#haikyuuweek2020 #iwaoi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #i spent more time on this than all of my edits combined pls appreciate this

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bakugoukatsukiswife · 4 years

Text

Mr. Popular

A/N: First ever Kuroo fic, let’s go!! I was so excited to write for this boy.

Warnings: Drinking, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys!!), hair pulling, cursing, smut.

Words: 2K (whew, this bitch was almost 3K lmao).

Tagged: @myherowritings @myboringadultlife8 @settersandsmaus @uncle-sev @lordexplosionsextra

Tetsuro Kuroo has always been popular, even when he was in Nekoma High. Even though he was harmless, you always found yourself unable to talk around him, his hazel eyes staring down at you in amusement whenever you would try to talk to him about an upcoming project you guys had in a class together or just asking him where his next game would be. As much as you loved being around him and couldn’t deny the obvious crush that you had on him, your friends-and everyone else at Nekoma had warned you to not chase after him. Kuroo was a player-both on and off the court. He had girls wrapped around his finger, and he knew it too. You knew that developing feelings for Kuroo wasn’t the best idea, so you would try to distance yourself the best way you could when you realized how your heart would race at the way he looked at you, your breath catching in your throat at the way that his hand would accidentally brush against yours whenever you guys would go over homework together.

You would always make a habit of going to his games though to cheer him on, nothing wrong in doing that, right? You were good friends with the other boys anyway, so it’s not like Kuroo was the only reason you would go. You wanted to be a good friend and cheer on your friends, too. Even though you couldn’t help but picture Kuroo wrapping you up in his arms and spinning you around in a victory spin after the boys had won every time. But that was wishful thinking.

You would try to ignore the pain that shot through your heart like a bullet whenever girls would talk about their night spent with the captain. Normally that would end with you sitting in class trying to cover up your face as your tears freely fell from your face as Kenma and Yamamoto tried their best to cheer you up from ‘whatever’ you were sad about since you didn’t want to talk about it. Luckily, when graduation came around, you had hope that you would never have to see Testuro Kuroo again, your feelings would finally go away. Right?

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) (L/N)?” you heard a familiar voice call out to you and you felt shivers run down your spine as you turned around to see Kuroo walking towards you, hands shoved in his pockets as a smile formed on his face. “I didn’t think you’d be going to this university,” He said, his eyes staring intently at you.

“Oh uh.. Yeah they have a really good program for what I’m going into, a-actually.” You said, cursing yourself at the fact that you still had trouble speaking around him. You swore you saw his mouth twitch up slightly and his eyes shine with a hint of amusement that you were familiar with from high school.

“Oh really? That’s awesome! They have an amazing volleyball team here so I as well as some of the others decided to join.” Kuroo explained and right on cue, Yamamoto rushed up to him with Kenma typing away at his phone in tow.

“Dude! Are we still having that party tonight? Please say yes, I already told these two hotties they could come,” Yamamoto said before noticing you and his face lit up. “(Y/N)!! Oh man, it’s so good to see you babygirl,” Yamamoto said as he came over to give you a hug and you swore you saw Kuroo bristle at the old nickname that Yamamoto called you.

“Taketora! I’m so happy to see you!” You giggled as Yamamoto gave you a big hug.

“Of course you are! I’m the best. You’re coming to the party tonight, right? I know we literally just started here at the university, but we’ve all already been accepted into a fraternity and apparently to celebrate they throw a party. We can invite anyone,” Yamamoto grinned and you heard Kuroo speak up.

“You should come, (Y/N). It’ll be fun.” He said and you thought you heard a twinge of hope in his voice.

“Hmm, alright. I’ll come then,” you responded and Yamamoto fist pumped the air while Kuroo just rolled his eyes at the dumbass. Kenma took Yamamoto by the collar and started to drag him off, much to the protest of the hot-headed boy.

You stared in the mirror at your outfit, smoothing over the small wrinkles as you finally decided that this was the best thing to wear before heading to the fraternity house that was lit up with colorful lights from inside, the bass booming could be heard from blocks away. Before you could knock on the door, it flew open to reveal Yamamoto with a tie wrapped around his head, his button up shirt opened to show off his abs and he had a drink in his hand.

“(Y/N)! You made it!” He said and you noticed that his words were slurred slightly. “Hey Kuroo!! The girl you’ve liked so much since high school is her-.” Yamamoto was cut off by a hand covering his mouth and you looked up to see it belonged to Kuroo. You raised an eyebrow at him and he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously before pulling Yamamoto back in the house with the hand around the drunk frat’s mouth.

“Come on in.” Kuroo said, kicking the door shut after you walked inside before he let Yamamoto go. He pushed him off into a crowd and focused his attention back on you, causing your stomach to twist in knots. “You want a drink?” He asked and you nodded, following him into the kitchen so he could fix you something.

“I’ll take whatever you have, I’m not picky.” You said and Kuroo nodded before he handed you a beer to which you happily took a swig of.

“So how have you been? I haven’t seen you since graduation,” Kuroo said as he leaned back against the wall, his attention fully on you as you took another drink of the alcohol. You were grateful to have something calming your nerves from your old crush that you weren’t exactly sure you were over at the moment. You were about to answer him when the kitchen island was suddenly cleared and one of the other frat boys held up bottles of tequila while people started cheering.

“Ah hell yeah! It’s time for body shots!” Yamamoto said as he slung an arm around you, your head tilting slightly as you looked up at him.

“Body shots?” You asked and Yamamoto smirked.

“You’ve never done them? I’d be happy to show you how they work.” He started but you felt as Kuroo grabbed your hand and pulled you with him over to the island, your heart racing when Kuroo’s hands grabbed your hips as he set you down on the hard marble surface. You watched as he grabbed the bottle of tequila, taking a lime before explaining that you had to keep it in your mouth.

“Just trust me,” he said before pouring a line of salt on your jaw bone as he raised your shirt slightly and your heat flushed at the way his fingers brushed against your skin. You felt as he poured a shot of tequila on your stomach before setting the bottle down, and you bit down at the lime when you felt his tongue lick against your skin, his mouth sucking up the liquid from your stomach and you prayed he couldn’t hear you let out the whimper you did when his tongue licked the line of salt off your jaw bone. He was careful to take the lime from your mouth with his own and you felt a heat pool between your legs as you watched the lime juice roll down his chin, wishing you could lick it off. His hazel eyes met yours as he removed the lime, tossing it aside before he started to take his shirt off and you let out a yelp.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked him as you tried hard to focus on his face and not the happy trail that disappeared into his jeans.

“Only fair if you do it back, right?” He asked and you could only nod as he helped you down the island, hoping that he couldn’t tell how hot your skin was as he got on the counter instead. He laid down, putting the lime in his mouth as you poured the tequila over his abs and salt on his chest. You tried your best to control your breathing as you licked at the alcohol, watching as Kuroo’s hand came into view like he was about to grab your hair but stopped when he realized you guys were in public. You licked the salt from his chest and carefully took the lime from his mouth, the effects of the alcohol and doing such an intimate thing making your head fuzzy. The next thing you knew, Kuroo had taken your hand and dragged you upstairs into his room, shutting the door before he pressed you against it, his hands on either side of your head.

You felt your face heat up again when you realized that he never put his shirt back on.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to be alone with you after that. If that’s okay of course,” Kuroo said, and you noticed how close he was to you, his stomach touching yours from your shirt still being pulled up from earlier.

“Y-yeah that’s fine,” you said and Kuroo chuckled.

“Do I make you nervous? You’re cute when you’re nervous around me.” Kuroo said, his hazel eyes dark with lust and you swear your heart was beating out of your chest. Could he hear how loud it was?

“Kuroo…” you started and Kuroo held your chin, his fingers grazing your skin softly as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. Even though he had tequila and whatever other alcohol else, he still tasted sweet to you as he pressed closer into you. His hands gripped at your hips, slightly tugging and you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pressed you into the door as he held you up. His lips met your neck and you moaned when he bit down at the skin slightly, his tongue coming out to soothe the inflamed mark as his hips rutted into you. You gasped when you felt his hard on press into you, whimpering when he cursed under his breath before leading you over to the bed.

He gently set you down before unbuttoning your pants, shimmying them off of you before focusing on your now soaked lacey underwear.

“Shit baby, you’re already so wet.” Kuroo said smugly and you tried to hide your face from embarrassment as he removed your underwear. You felt as his hands came up and removed your own, tsking at you. “None of that, I want you to watch as I devour this pussy.”

His tongue was on you in an instant, plunging deep into your tight hole as you let out a moan from the pleasure flooding through you. His tongue came up to lap circles around your clit as his fingers dived in your entrance, curling slightly to make you arch your back off the bed. His tongue worked faster, desperate to make you reach your orgasm as his fingers worked their magic inside of you. You moaned as you gripped at the sheets, fucking yourself on Kuroo’s fingers as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You heard the sounds of Kuroo lewdly sucking and lapping up your juices and you swore you could’ve come right then again.

Kuroo quickly made work of removing his jeans and underwear and you felt a heat in the pit of your stomach at the length and girth of his member. He was packing and proud of it. He started to pump himself slowly, his head lolling to the side as he observed you.

“Are you ready for my cock, baby girl?” He asked and you nodded.

“Beg.”

“Please Kuroo, I need your cock. Please, please fuck me.” You said, a whimper in your voice. You gasped when you felt Kuroo line himself up with you before he thrusted inside, a groan escaping his mouth as he did so.

“Fuck (Y/N). You feel so fucking good,” He said as he started moving, his hips moving against yours in perfect rhythm. He placed your legs against his shoulders as he started thrusting into you, causing moans to escape your mouth as his cock dragged along your walls. He kept this pace for a bit before moving closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he angled himself to hit against your g-spot. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.” Kuroo said through clenched teeth as he moved faster against you, his hips slamming into yours.

“K-Kuroo, fuck.” You whimpered out, your hands resting in his raven black hair. You moved your hips against him, skin slapping against skin as you felt yourself close to yet another orgasm.

“Are you about to cum? Yeah, I want you to fucking cum all over this cock. I want you to scream my fucking name, (Y/N).” Kuroo said as he pulled at your hair, causing you to let out another moan as you clenched around his cock.

“Kuroo!” You yelled out as you came, feeling as Kuroo’s dick twitched.

“Fuck (Y/N), I’m fixing to-.” Kuroo said as a groan left his lips, his hot cum shooting out to paint your walls white as some leaked onto the bed. He slowly pulled out of you before pulling you close to him.

“So you’ve really liked me since high school?” You asked him as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Yeah, I was just really nervous around you. You were different from the other girls and I really liked you a lot.” Kuroo admitted and your heart warmed at Kuroo’s words.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

#Kuroo Tetsurō #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #tetsuro kuroo #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo smut #haikyuu smut #kuroo fanfic #hq fanfic #hq smut #hq kuroo

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