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feiwelinchen · 2 months

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Unwavering Presence Chapter 1

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

A/N: Hi, I am so excited to share this first part with you! I wanted to point out that I am following major plot points in the books, however, this is in the Reader's perspective so some of the interactions may not line up with the text exactly but the major plot points will be there.

Content warnings: Nightmares, Grief, mentions of death, mentions of trauma,

Summary: Y/N accompanies her twin sister to the Nigh Court after Rhysand crashed Feyre's wedding. Where the reader finds herself lost in the memories of under the mountain and finds herself in the company of a Hazel eyed stranger

Word Count: 3.1k

tags: @hellodarling1357

If you want to be added to the tag list for this series let me know!

“Hello, Feyre, Darling.”

My head whipped toward the end of the aisle; the High Lord of the Night Court was flicking an invisible piece of lint from his dark lined suit. My gaze moved to my sister who before his arrival, had looked like she was ready to bolt from Tamlin. Lucien’s casually stepped closer Feyre as the Violet Eyes meet my own, “Y/N.” His gaze lingered on my long sleeve pink tulle gown, “You look healthy.”

I straightened my posture and tried to hold the arrogant air that would make Nesta proud, “Rhysand,” His gaze lingered on my long sleeve pink tulle gown I responded, trying to move toward my sister, a firm hand keeps me in place causing me to still completely.

Tamlin’s voice roared in my ear, “What the fuck do you want, Rhysand?” The High Lord of the Spring gripped my arm too tightly and I clenched my jaw to prevent a wince.

Rhysand did not miss the little action and tucks his hand in his pockets, “I am here to collect Feyre and Y/N. Unless Feyre Darling wants to go back on her end on the bargain.

I grimace as the memory of Feyre making that bargain:

I couldn’t keep my body from trembling, I knew I had a fever and Feyre was trying to bring my temperature down by putting a soaked piece of her shirt and pressing it on her forehead. Amarantha had split up the challenges between the two of us. Taking the first challenge, The Middengard Wyrm was more challenging than I had originally anticipated. When we were living in the human lands, I would occasionally go out hunting with her and she would teach me a few things and those skills came in handy when going up against the Wyrm and was able to slay the beast.

It wasn’t until we were back in our cell that I was aware that I had the gaping wound. It only took a few days for the infection to seep into the wound and my fever spiking. “You must hang on just a little bit, Lucien will come and help. You just have to hold it out for a little bit longer.”

Steps could be heard down the hall from our cell and the grating of our cell door creaked open and Rhysand stepped in. Feyre covered me with her small frame, “What do you want?”

The Violet eyed male simply ignored her question and made is way to my side. I was to weak to cower away his presence alone was intimidating. He reached out his hand about to touch my wound when it was whacked away by Feyre, “Do not touch her,” she said through gritted teeth. The High Lord gave my twin a playful smirk in response.

A groan of pain escaped my lips as a violent tremor tore through my body both Rhysand and Feyre gazes meet mine, “I’m only here to help.” Rhysand says.

“We don’t need your help.” Feyre spat, tucking me closer to my chest always the protector.

Rhysand’s face began to blur in and out of focus but in a brief moment of clarity I saw his face hold a cool indifference as he met my stare. “Would your sister agree with you, Feyre?” In a fever haze it sounded as though he said her name like a prayer. “She will die if you don’t act quickly. Make a bargain with me and she will be safe.”

Feyre took her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes met mine, I gave her what I hoped was a smile but was probably more of a grimace as a coughing fit erupted from chest. Feyre’s grip on me tightened as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at Rhysand, “We were told not to make bargains with fae.”

I closed my eyes listening to his voice, “And yet you still made one with Amarantha. If it wasn’t clear she’s dying.”

Feyre shook her head, “Lucien will be here, and he can help us, I trust Tamlin.”

Rhysand sighed and I opened my eyes, my lids feeling heavy, and I used most of my energy to keep them on the former High Lord. “Lucien could get here tomorrow, or five days from now,

I gripped my sister’s hand and gave it a weak squeeze, “Feyre,” My voice cracked my throat and my mouth extremely dry from dehydration. “I trust him.” My gaze met Rhysand’s and I could have sworn there was a flicker of stars in his gaze I reached out my hand to him, he quirked his brow, but my hand met with Calloused ones. “I trust you,” A fit of coughing took over and there was a brief squeeze of my hand from his almost comforting.

“What do you want?” Panic laced Feyre’s voice as my eyes began to flutter shut, loosening my grip on the High Lord’s hand. Rhy’s grips may have tightened but my mind was in a haze.

“I heal her, and you come and spend two weeks in the Night Court with me.”

“No,” Feyre said her voice strained. “I won’t do it.”

My eyes creak open slightly, as the feeling of soothing circles are brushed against my wrist. “Well, that’s a shame,” Rhysand released the grip on my wrist and rose.

Feyre shrieked and amplified my already pulsing headache. “No wait!” Feyre’s eyes meet my gaze tears are brimming, “Five days. I will give you five days, but my sister has to be with me.”

Rhysand scoffs, “Bargaining?” There was a pause, “10 days.”

Feyre countered, “one week.”

Rhysand hummed for a moment, “One week it is. You have a bargain.”

There was a flash and I slipped unconscious.

I met the stare of the High Lord of the Night Court, and he looked as though he was recalling that memory as well. As Tamlin snarled, “You cannot take them,” His grip on me tightening to the point of eliciting a small whimper that caused Lucien’s head whipping over to mine. A scolding look to his friend caused Tamlin to release me as I moved swiftly to my sister as I lace my fingers with hers.

“You want to wage a war on interfering with a bargain that Feyre willingly agreed to than by all means Tamlin be my guest.” He approached my twin and I and held out both of his hands with the palm. “Ladies, if you don’t mind.”

Feyre looked at me, fear extended to her features I gave her hand a comforting squeeze and a nod of my head that seemed to put her at ease. She reached out her free hand and I followed suit. Rhysand grips our hands and before Tamlin can make a beeline toward us, we were consumed by darkness and landed on a balcony and Rhysand ushered us inside to a large dining room area with dark red and black décor.

I looked back at the balcony ignoring Feyre’s bantering with the High Lord. Where we were, was on the side of the mountain and the scenery was breathtaking, the sun glinting off the snow on the mountain. The sun is beginning to set in the sky turning to hues of pink and purples painting the sky. I wish Feyre would take in the scene in the hopes that she would find inspiration to paint again.

Rhysand yelp of pain pulled me from the beautiful seen to see that he was rubbing the back of his head. Feyre has her second slipper in her hand, “Don’t you-“Rhysand growled as she threw the second slipper at him and the High Lord catches the slipper and smirks.

Feyre just scoffs, “Just take us to our room.” Tapping her now foot impatiently the way she crossed her arms I could have almost mistaken her for our eldest sister.

Rhysand’s lips formed a tight line. Crossing his arms in answer to hers, and I had to cough to cover up my laugh. The High Lord’s eyes twinkled with amusement and in a blink, it was back to normal, and he was scowling at my sister. “Follow me.”

Rhysand walked away not waiting to see if we were following him, I began to follow him and a small hand gripped mine. I paused and looked at Feyre her eyes were sunken, and her face had thinned since we came out of Under the Mountain, “I don’t like this.” Feyre whispered, “When we get home, I’m going to see if Tamlin can break the bargain.

I gave her a comforting squeeze giving her a warm smile fighting the disgust at her calling the Spring Court home. “Keep an open mind, Fey.” You paused, “He did save my life,” I looped my arm into hers, “Come on.” I dragged my sister into the hall and rushed to catch up to the High Lord who was leaning against a set of double doors.

“I figured the two of you would want to share a room.” Rhysand smiled and pushed off the door, “Does that work for you?”

I was shocked as I thought back to when we were taken to the manor in the spring court.

Feyre and I had our hands intertwined, the only thing preventing them from shaking, as we followed the High Lord of the Spring court through his manor. Tamlin, as we found out his name, was on our journey to the fae lands. The blonde fae male paused at one of the doors and opened them, “This is where room for either of you. Which one is up to you, of course.”

Feyre and I exchanged a look of pure panic, Feyre was the one to speak first, “Can’t we stay in the same room?”

Tamlin bristled, “You have spent the last few years in a room sharing a bed with your two other sisters and you still want to share a room?”

I glowered, “Well maybe, we’re in a strange place, with strangers and strange creatures, and maybe we seek comfort in each other’s company.”

Tamlin returned my glare and through gritted teeth, “You have two separate rooms, use them or don’t, I don’t care.” Tamlin walked past the two of us purposely bumping into my shoulder. “Dinner will be ready in a couple hours. Feel free to join.”

“Prick.” You muttered. As you and Feyre walked into one of the bedrooms.

“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, bringing you back to the hall, Rhysand’s brows furrowed in what looked like concern. “Are you alright?”

I nod and give a smile, “I’m fine, are you okay with us staying together? I know that our ‘arrangement’ is different back in Spring.”

“You can call it home,” Feyre straightened, as if she realized who was standing and listening, “I’m fine with sharing a room.” She once again gripped my hand and dragged me to the room and slammed the door, not even muttering a goodnight to our host.

“My home is the cottage in the human lands, Feyre, considering,” I tuck my hair to reveal my round ear, “By their standards, I shouldn’t be here. The only reason I’m here and tolerated is because of you.” Feyre flinched at the confession. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Look, I don’t want to fight. You asked me to stay with you and I will, but please let me adjust at my own pace.”

Feyre nodded and, in a flash, she grabbed you and embraced you in a hug, “I love you, Y/N,” you wrap her arms around your sister and squeeze. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course,” you pull away and flick her nose, “Alright let’s get you out of this hideous dress.” She laughed and nodded. As if on que the doors of the wardrobe opened and there were two-night outfits. One was in a beautiful violet that looked too small for me and one in a ruby red. “Well, that’s convenient.” I mutter as I pull out the red shirt and pants, running the cool silk through my fingers. “I have to say,” Feyre blue eyes, met mine, “The Night Court has style.”

We changed into night outfits, and I grumbled over my exposed mid-drift and how they accentuated my curves but overall, they were comfortable. I took a glance at Feyre and my heart ached. I could see her ribs protruding, I knew she was having a hard time, but every time I would ask her about it, she would brush off my concern, tell me that others had it worse under the mountain. Tamlin could barely look at me most of the time, so I was never able to bring it up to her betrothed. Lucien made himself scarce ever since Ianthe came to stay on the property, so no one was there to help me help her. Feyre smiled at me, “Shall we get some rest? It’s been a long day.”

I nodded and we crawled into bed and cuddled close together and fell asleep.

Tears were falling down my cheeks as I watched Amarantha raise my sister’s body off the ground and throw her down like a rag doll. I was ready to run up to her, but Lucien pinned me to his chest concealing me from Amarantha’s sight. Feyre’s mouth moved and the rage on the red haired fae’s flared in her eyes. Amarantha smirked, “Well you figured it out, but you failed to be specific of when I free you.” Rhysand lunged at Amarantha and with a flick of a wrist he was flung against the wall.

Crack

The tether to my other half had snapped, and Lucien gripped me tighter as I screamed, my sobs uncontrollable. Lucien was whispering in my ear, but I couldn’t discern what he was saying, past my screams. I didn’t even notice how he stilled as the power shifted, and Tamlin unleashing his full power on Amarantha. “Feyre,” you whimpered as Lucien returns to consoling you as Amarantha was torn to shreds. Lucien let me go as I crawled to my sister; her limp body unresponsive. “Feyre, wake up, please wake up.” I sobbed leaning over body sobbing into her should, “Come back to me. Please I can’t do this without you.”

I jolted awake from the nightmare of a memory that plagued me every night these past three months. Sweat coated hair clung to my forehead as I turned to find my sister sleeping peacefully beside me her now pointed ears, proof that she was alive. It should have been me. I thought to myself. I shook the thought, knowing I had to be brave for her. Knowing she needed me to be strong enough to help her through this. I silently slid off the bed and snuck out of the room, knowing full well I would not be able to fall back asleep I figured I would explore our home for the next week.

My feet pad across the carpet and wander through the hall, as far as décor goes the halls are bare. Though the walls are dark the fae lights create a comforting ambiance. A door creaks open that catches my gaze, and I press myself against the wall hoping the shadows conceal me though no one ever came out. Deeming it safe to peel myself from the wall I walked toward the open door and my eyes widened. I stepped into the room and was mesmerized by the books lining the walls and the fireplace sending warmth down my spine. A window showcased the night sky, the room was breathtaking, and I began tracing the tomes with my fingers.

Nesta and Elain sometimes would pull me aside and teach me how to read when we had spare time. Though I could never read books at the same rate they do. Some words were still hard, and my understanding of the words sometimes went amiss so by the time we lost our fortune I had given up on it entirely. Though I always loved the idea of reading to get lost in a story and transported to far off places.

“Someone having a hard time sleeping?” The deep voice that could cause anyone’s toes to curl, caused me to jump and I spun to find the source of that voice. My eyes met Hazel ones and I came face to face with the most beautiful male I had ever encountered.

The male was tall my head barely met his chest, dark raven hair the same as Rhysand’s fell to his shoulders his face was one blessed by ancient gods his chiseled jaw line and sultry lips. He wore red jewels on his chest and atop his hands and I gaped as I noticed his wings were tucked tight to his body as he leaned against the door frame. His face showed concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” He spoke again. “Are you Feyre?”

I shook my head words lost on me, I shook my head and continued, “Afraid not, though I am her sister.” I picked up the book that was in my hands and put it back on the shelf, “I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t sleep and the door kind of opened on its own I was curious.”

The male raised his hand, “Rhys wants you both to feel comfortable while you’re here. You are more than welcome to be here.” He walks in deeper and faux whispers, “I technically shouldn’t be talking to you right now?”

You take a tentative step closer to him and faux whisper back “How come?”

He gives a wolfish grin, “He doesn’t want us to scare you away.”

I quirk a brow at him, since he made his presence known I’ve only felt this overwhelming comfort. “Are you someone I should be scared of?” I asked.

His hazel eyes glance at my night ware and it’s then that I notice that the color matches his rubies, interesting. His eyes linger on my exposed stomach that I wrap an arm around feigning a chill. His eyes meet mine noticing the shift and gives me a full smile showing his teeth, “Here? No. On the battlefield? Absolutely.”

I laugh, a sound I haven’t heard out of my mouth in a while. “I don’t think I’ll be on the battlefield anytime soon, so I’ll have to take your word for it.” You noticed how eyes are bright, “Well, it’s late and I don’t want to deter you from whatever it was you were doing.” I walk around him as he straightened, “It was nice meeting you.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He asked right as I reached the door. He turned to face me.

I shrug, “What keeps anyone from sleeping? Nightmares.” I give him a small nod, “Goodnight…”

“Cassian, my name is Cassian.”

“I’m Y/N. Sweet Dreams, Cassian.”

I leave and I could have sworn before I did, I heard a soft, “Sweet Dreams, Princess.” Before bolting back to my room to my twin.

Chapter 2

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feiwelinchen · 4 months

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Masterlists //Let me in// (Azriel x F!Reader x OC)

Pilot

Vol.1

Vol.2

Vol.3

Vol.4

Vol.5

——————————————————————————

UNDENIABLE BONDS (Azriel x F.Reader)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

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feiwelinchen · 9 months

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UPDATED: 08/14/2023

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ACOTAR:

Ongoing Series

Falling Masterlist (Azriel x Reader)

Exile Masterlist (Azriel x Reader)

'Til Death Masterlist (Rhysand x Reader)

Azriel x Reader

Overprotective

Hostile *read the warnings*

Mine

Night Terrors

Meant to Be *read the warnings*

Just Friends?

Alone with you

Cassian x Reader

Home

Girls Night

Rhysand x Reader

Never Made a Difference

Eris x Reader

Illicit Affairs , Part II

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feiwelinchen · 9 months

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GENERAL INFO: – Requests are open! – Taglist: If you'd like to be added to my general taglist or a taglist for a particular series or character, please send me an ask/message or reply to one of my posts indicating that you'd like to be added to the taglist! – Please do not repost my writing without my consent! * = may contain smut (minors do not interact) italicized = coming soon

ACOTAR

Rhysand

Easy Like Sunday Morning*

Against Your Brother's Wishes* | Part 2*

Welcome Distraction*

Shape of You*

Azriel

A Call in the Night

Annual Visit | Part 2* | Part 3

Forced Revelations

Gold Dust Woman

Cassian

What Are Friend’s For?

Magical Hands

Blood Rite Celebrations*

Just Friends*

Second Shadow

How Kindness Lingers

Helion

Warm Love

NSFW Mating Ceremony blurb*

A High Lord's Scholar

Isn’t She Lovely

Before It’s Too Late

Eris

Destiny’s Battleground | Part 2* | Part 3 | Part 4*

In Spite of Our Differences

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feiwelinchen · 10 months

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Little Bird || Master List

Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader • 7th Year • Friends to Lovers

Rating: T - for now

Over the summer before her seventh year MC has really come into her own. Figured out how to do her hair, dress to accentuate her favorite features, and finally looks like a full grown woman, instead of child. It seems like everyone has noticed - everyone except her crush best friend Sebastian Sallow.

She tries to deal with her deepening feelings, loosing control of her ancient magic and feeling like she’s not ready to leave Hogwarts.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IIII

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feiwelinchen · 10 months

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Masterlists //Let me in// (Azriel x F!Reader x OC)

Pilot

Vol.1

Vol.2

Vol.3

Vol.4

Vol.5

——————————————————————————

UNDENIABLE BONDS (Azriel x F.Reader)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

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feiwelinchen · 1 year

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I Would-With No Question -Protect You With My Life

Bodyguard!Matsukawa Issei x ‘Party Girl’!Reader

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feiwelinchen · 1 year

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Better Men Have Hit Their Knees and Bigger Men Have Died

Cassian x Reader

Summary: They say all is fair in love and war.

Warnings: Smut, hate-fucking.

Word Count: 5,313

Notes: I've said it once and I'll say it again. I think I'm in love with this Cassian.

_________________________________________

“I’ll wrestle you to your fucking knees if you don’t do it yourself.” Cassian’s ire slides up your spine like a blade straight from the forge, “So why don’t you save us both the time and get down.”

Your glare does nothing to deter the path of his lust-filled gaze, drinking in your revealing dress, the onyx ink adorning your bare skin from bargains made throughout your years, the sweep of coal around your eyes, covering only the most intimate parts of you.

Except for the one buried deep within your soul, your innermost feelings, he’s attuned to. All because of that damned mating bond.

You cannot stand the male looking down at you. That spark in his eyes, the demands from those lips, curled into a cruel smile at the flare of anger he feels from you, all sharp teeth and drunk on lust. His stare is just as cutting, and you can hardly tell if he hates the silvery silk you’re cloaked in, like moonlight dripping off your skin, or if the dislike is simply directed at your entire being.

Either way, you don’t have time. The both of you are supposed to be joining the others in Rhysand’s office for a final walkthrough of the plan before heading into the Hewn City for the night, one full of debauchery and putting on a show for the citizens that think you’re nothing more than a crony for a single-minded High Lord.

But Cassian had caught you in the hallway and forced you back into your room, cock hard and demanding you get on your knees for him. It was a thing that you don’t remember having started, as the both of you held a strong dislike towards each other for years, since Rhysand had brought you in to give a fresh stance on warfare. But lust had licked up your spine at his actions nonetheless. Damn that unaccepted bond purring in your chest, reacting to him in every way, betraying you to your core.

Rhysand didn’t think that Cassian would react with such abhorrence to the presence of another well trained general, especially a female. It wasn’t like he had brought you in to replace the warlord, although, from hearing some of his strategies, you thought you might’ve been brought in to do exactly that.

You size him up, as you always do, and his hazel eyes flicker at the challenge. Sparring with him always ended with both of you torn and bloody, neither of you willing to submit to the other. It carried on into the bedroom as well, fighting for control in the throes of lust, your unmated bonds thrumming in your chests, always reaching out for one another.

And yet neither of you had denied it, though the threat always lingered, both of you teetering on the edge of declining the other when irritated too much. But that itch was constant, never fulfilled, urging you to react.

You open your mouth to snap back at him, a nasty retort on the tip of your tongue, but he’s quick – hundreds of years of Illyrian training under his belt had made him so. He grips your chin roughly, the bite of his fingers pressing into the hinge of your jaw makes your cunt clench, even as you glare up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he scolds, like he knows exactly what you had planned on spewing. The fucking smirk on his face tells you that the only thing you’ll be spitting on is his cock, whenever he demands it. The steely, commanding look in his eyes makes a shiver crawl up your spine and your fists curl into the smooth fabric of your dress. “No talking.”

And Mother, do you want to speak just to piss him off. You know what will happen if you do, you’ve tried it on many occasions, testing his limits, because there was no way in hell that you were going to take his demands as easily as one of his mediocrely trained soldiers, not when the both of you so openly disliked each other.

But you’re already running late. You need to be downstairs soon for the briefing and if you open your mouth now he won’t let you cum. So instead, you bite your tongue to the brink of splitting it open, and sink to your knees before Cassian.

His cock twitches in his pants and he nearly groans at the sight of you, the harsh glare you’re sending up at him, your chin trapped in his hold. If he presses just a little firmer those pretty pink lips will pop right open for him–

Cassian works his belt loose with one hand, the other holding onto you like a vice. You don’t move, don’t dare to help him with his leathers. You so achingly want to watch his cock spring from confinement when he shoves them over the cutting muscles of his hips, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You settle for watching it from the corner of your eyes, so close that his cock nearly hits you in the face.

You can feel the warmth radiating from his massive length and your mouth waters, remembering the last time you’d had that heavy heat between your lips. You swear he was Cauldron blessed.

He’s ready as ever, precum beading at the tip as he strokes himself once, twice, pressing the head of his cock against your mouth, smearing the milky bead across your lips. You take a deep inhale of the heady scent of him, but it only spikes your arousal. Cassian’s cock twitches at the barely there feeling, an unconscious reaction to the mating bond festering beneath his skin.

You force nonchalance and hatred with every fiber of your being, staring up at him in defiance. Later, you will get your revenge, riding him until the sun wakes and not letting him cum until he forces you into the mattress and uses you like you’re nothing but a whore. You can picture the way his large hands will manhandle you, folding you into tight shapes for him as he pounds into your cunt with fervor, like a drowning man, spewing vitriol like they’re confessions of love.

A raised eyebrow, your way of asking, ‘Any more demands? Or can we get this started?’

Cassian’s grin turns feral, his fingers pinching open your jaw while his free hand coils your hair around into a tight fist.

“No gagging, sweetheart.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You’re eager to play tonight, riled from the time spent with Cassian’s cock in your mouth, stretching your throat wide enough to take his entire length, your hair pulled into his large fist as he shoved your head closer to his body until your nose met the coarse hairs above his cock.

He held you there and you reveled in the burn. There was nothing gentle about him having full control of you, and the lick of lust you’d let slip between the two of you only made his free hand slide down, clamping at your soft neck where he could feel himself, your throat bulging around his girth.

If you had more time he would have stripped you bare and lifted your cunt to his mouth to devour the wetness dripping from your folds. He was perhaps the most excited down there, and it was the only time where you’d let him dominate you, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you until your thighs quaked, breathing so ragged you couldn’t argue with him, hands holding so tightly to his hair he thought you might rip it clean from his scalp.

He’d cum so far down your throat you could hardly feel the hot spurts as he released. You’d shoved at his hips in desperation, wanting to taste his familiar musk. By the end of it you’d had spit and cum dripping from your chin to the milky skin between your breasts the moonlit silk of your dress left bare.

You wanted to bathe in it, wear it proud like any battle scar, but you shoved those thoughts so deeply inside of you where his prying bond wasn’t able to reach. Instead, you sent him the ice cold hatred you felt anytime someone compared his strategies to yours. You honed in on that feeling and held on tight.

At least the material of your dress hadn’t been stained, and you’d made a valiant attempt at fixing your hair before you showed up to the meeting room with your comrades.

If any of them noticed anything off about you, they knew better than to speak.

Now, you’re prowling the large ballroom after having received a nod from your High Lord to lure and pry for information by any means necessary. Cassian preferred brute force and Azriel tended to seek information with his blades, while you used a different approach, one that might even work better than bloodshed and torture.

There’s nothing more threatening to a male than a female’s body.

The music playing throughout the hall is sensual in itself, the fast-paced sounds flowing throughout the room in a lustful wave. The sultry female voice harmonizes perfectly with her male counterpart, and the song sounds like it’s own mixture of lewd moans and words, the air hot and serenading the partygoers like sirens.

You’ve wanted nothing more than to press your body up against someone’s, and after having downed a few glasses of wine, that is exactly what you plan on doing.

Your eyes catch on a tall male then, your first victim. Rhysand had briefed you and the other members of the Inner Circle on him, Rhodes. His body is lean with muscle, skin a pretty pale blue that would draw the eye of anyone in the room. His caramel gaze scans the room as he speaks to a fellow warrior, an empty rock glass hanging lazily at his side. He has a strong nose and matching scars mirrored across both cheeks that somehow only exaggerates his rugged beauty. He’s one of Beron’s highest appointed commanders, and even you cannot deny his gorgeous features.

Slinking through the crowd to him is easy, and drawing him away from the male before him easier, drawing him deep into the crowd of writhing bodies with the promise of entertainment on your curved lips.

Oh, these generals of war and how they like to play.

Dancers clear from your path with scowls, some spitting insults at you as you drag their general through the hall with a grin, like you’ve won a luxurious prize. You don’t flinch or cringe away from them, only smile and swing your hand with the commanders to emphasize and flaunt what you’ve got.

You find a spot in the middle of the floor, where Rhysand and Feyre can both see you from the dais, where everyone has the perfect view of you and your prey, the scalding flash locking your spine in place tells you so.

You ignore the feeling, not letting your act falter as you spin to a stop before him. The blue-skinned fae doesn’t stop with you though, his large stride eats the last step separating you, forcing all of the air between you to rush away until his body is flush against yours. You have his full attention.

A playful smirk graces your lips as you stare up at him, fingers already reaching up, grazing across his dark tunic to wrap around his neck. His hands slide around your waist, gentlemanly for now. It’s a pleasing surprise, knowing how the males of the Hewn City actually are.

You find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with Rhodes, and your swaying quickly turns to writhing, grinding against him as his hands pull you desperately into his body at the command of the sinful music. You nearly lose your motive when you meet his butterscotch eyes, drinking in every movement you make.

You can feel his interest against your hip.

Rhodes curls downwards, so tall that you wonder if his spine hurts just a little, as he dips down to meet your gaze more fully, a question in his eyes.

“You think you can have me?” you purr, a wicked smile gracing your lips as you trail a metallic dipped fingernail down the exposed blue of his chest. The effects of the wine have you buzzing, but you know better than to give and not receive payment for your efforts. “You know that there’s always a price to pay, don’t you, Rhodes?”

His burned buttery eyes flash with irritation and his grip on your hips tighten, a clear sign of his frustration. You can see the battle behind his heated gaze, how badly he wants you, what information he’s willing to give you in exchange for a taste.

The thunderous music peaks, crashing into a crescendo that makes you shiver as a second body closes in on you from behind, pressing flush against you. Your bond purrs in your chest but it could be the buzz from the wine as you arch backwards into the warmth, grinding into him as your head tilts back to lean against the wall of a male who’s trapped you between him and Rhodes, eyes shut in bliss and mouth open in a pleasured exhale.

The male behind you dips his head toward your ear and you can’t help but to tilt your head, leaning it against his temple as he speaks.

He chuckles, and Cassian’s breathy and hot words send shivers up your spine. “Oh, you’ll fuck anything, won’t you, sweetheart?”

At the sound of his voice your heart stops and your eyes snap open, locking directly on Rhodes’, who’s now looking down at you like you’re some sort of festering wound. He releases your hips immediately and he slinks back into the crowd on a jarring note from the violin, chin tilted high and glaring down at anyone who looks his way. Even he knows better than to fuck with one of the High Lords companions.

The shock must still be on your face when you turn around because Cassian’s shit-eating grin only widens before he’s taking your wrist in a firm grip and leading you from the dancefloor.

You want to refuse, but the bond in your chest is aching at you not to, to follow him even though you’re angrier than the Mother. He’s ruined your entire scheme.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you spit once he’s dragged you from the party, putting a room between you and the debauchery that’s happening in the ballroom, music softening through the closed door.

Cassian spins on his heel, shoving you right up into the wooden frame. It’s too dark to read the look on his face but his eyes glimmer in the night and his wings pull up high. You can make out the shapes of his claws forming a taunting halo above his head.

His hands are everywhere all at once, pulling at the ties of your dress to release it from your body that’s already curving into his eager touch. The darkness chills your skin as the fabric melts to the ground and your breath is a gasp as Cassian’s mouth sucks harshly at the skin of your throat, quickly working his way downward, your heartbeat pounding in time with the drums of the notes in the other room.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl?” He taunts and you hiss, pulling at his hair from where you were threading the silky strands through your fingers.

“Fuck you,” you spit.

“No,” he growls, low in your ear. You let slip a strained moan as you feel the heat of his cock meet your dripping cunt before sliding in easily, one fell swoop that shoves all of the emotions you’ve buried deep inside of you to the surface. “Fuck you.”

You cry out in pleasure, clinging to him like you never want to let him go. Your legs wind around his waist and he presses your body into the door as he fucks into you, his fingers covering the spots where Rhodes had been holding you in the ballroom, replacing the commanders touch with his own.

The bond aches in your chest at your close proximity to your counterpart. Your other half, equals in every way yet you can’t stand each other. You can’t stand his stupid hair that fits perfectly between your fingers, his hazel gaze that’s always staring at you with malice. You hate the smirk he directs your way and how you can’t seem to ever get those lips off of your mind, how you dream about him as much as you work with him–

No. You need to shut that train of thought down immediately, but it’s so difficult when his cock commands them from you, pushing them to the surface with each thrust, you moan out his name instead.

“That’s right,” he says against your mouth, “Scream for me, sweetheart.”

And you do.

It’s the only thing you can do besides let your innermost feelings spill from your lips. You know that you shouldn’t feel this way, know that he loathes you, but you can’t help it. You were made to be his, to want him completely.

Your nails rake down his back, so awfully close to the base of his wings it has him shuddering a growling, nipping harshly at your lip as he untangles your hands from around him. You whimper at the loss when he pins them above your head in one hand, the other supporting you, the muscles of his arm bulging with the effort.

Head falling back on your shoulders, your thighs quake where they’re clasped around Cassian’s waist. You can feel the perspiration against your forehead as he presses his against your own, glaring down at you because he wants to watch you as he ruins you, makes a mess of you for everyone else tonight.

Your chest heaves against his, a battle all its own as your heart beats a booming rhythm. Your skin sticks to his and you gasp when he shifts, plunging into you from a different angle.

You cum on his cock but Cassian’s not finished with you. He bites at your shoulder when he feels you tense around him, revels in the noises you make, uncaring if anyone else hears. It is the Hewn City, afterall.

“Give me another,” he demands, picking up his pace, pressing into your further. You can hardly breathe with his body against yours and you think you’ve heard the wood of the door begin splitting open from how harshly he’s fucking you into it.

Your legs go limp around him but he has one thing on his mind, releasing your arms in favor of latching onto your legs to hold you up. You mewl at the relentless way that he’s fucking into you, the long draw of your orgasm quickly building into another as his cock hits the spot inside of you like he’s known it all along.

You have no choice but to follow his demand, cumming around him again with a keen as he follows, releasing into you, his breathing ragged.

He leans against you for a moment as he collects his bearings and before you have the chance to revel in the way his body molds perfectly to yours he’s dropping you to your feet and tucking himself away.

“Clean yourself up, you look like a mess.”

His words clang in your chest like a death knoll, harsh and unrelenting. You should have known it to be true, neither of you ever stayed a minute longer in each other’s presence once you’d finished, but this…this stings.

Cassian leaves you in the darkened room by yourself while he slips away, headed towards the dining room where dinner is about to be served.

You sit for a long moment, his cum dripping down your thighs as you bury unwanted emotions away. Your dress is a disheveled mess and your lips are bruised with his kisses, skin dotted purple from his touch.

You knew that the Mother was cruel, but not like this. Because you’re mated to the male you loathe, even if he has ruined you for every other body in Prythian.

You fist the silky material of your dress as your anger seeps in.

No. You will not let him humiliate you this time. You’re the one he stopped in the hall. You’re the one he dragged away from Rhodes. You’re the one who made him cum again and again.

You’re not letting Cassian have this one.

It takes you two times to stand because of how bad your legs are trembling. Your thighs are sore from how hard Cassian fucked you and you can feel every place he touched as you shove your skirts down to cover your slick legs. You hadn’t bothered to wipe him from you. No, you want them all to know who treats you like this.

You stalk towards the dining room, building your confidence brick by brick with each clack of your heels. Spine straightening, chin tilting upward, mouth pressed into a firm line.

Let them see the tear in your dress, the mess of your hair, the smear of your lipstick halfway across your cheek. Let them smell the cum dripping down your thighs. Show them how much of a brute through and through Cassian is.

Fuck him.

As you near, you hear the heavy scrape of a chair against the floor. It’s an urgent sound, like someone’s realized they’ve forgotten their weapon in another room. Just as you’re about to turn the corner to enter the dining room Cassian appears, wrapping a firm arm around your waist and hoisting you over his shoulder in such a swift move it takes your mind a moment to catch up. The talon of his wing nearly tears your forehead open and you make a noise of frustration in retaliation.

“Hey,” you shout, pounding at his back. His grip is tight, unrelenting and your fists don’t seem to have any effect on the hard cording of his back. “Put me down!”

“No,” he growls in response, stalking away from the dinner guests.

But you’re not giving up, you never have.

Cassian lets you slip from his shoulder but he’s quick to pin you against the wall, as far from the dinner his body would allow before the need to be buried inside of you again becomes unbearable.

“I’m hungry,” you say, acting aloof as ever.

Cassian grins wolfishly, “I’ll give you something to put in your mouth then, how about that?”

You don’t have a chance to respond because he’s dipping down, lips capturing yours in a feral kiss that’s more teeth than lips.

Your body reacts instinctually. You’re clawing at his clothes, but he no longer seems to care if buttons pop from the ridiculous shirt Rhys had forced him into, if the fabric snags against his wings in your haste to rid him of it. It’s like you can’t control yourself, something deep inside of you needing to be filled by him always.

He spins you around and you plant your hands against the wall to brace yourself. Rucking your dress up on your hips, Cassian is quick to tug his trousers off once more. And while you’d come here with the intention of giving him a piece of your mind, your body clearly has other thoughts, your mating bond thrashing around in the cage it’s being locked in.

“Don’t be fucking greedy now,” he grunts as you arch into him, shoving your cunt back to take him more fully. His hands are steel on your hips, the pads of his fingers digging roughly into your skin, halting your movements. “Already ready for round two?”

You bite your lip so hard you nearly draw blood as you try to stifle the whimper crawling up your throat. Gods, you need more, you need his broad chest pinning you to the wall, you need to feel the roughness of the partition imprinted into your cheek as he tries to shove you through it while he fucks into you harder, unable to control himself, giving into that primal urge that you’re feeling as well, the bond trying to claw it’s way from your body and into his–

“You’ll get as much as I give you,” his snarl is paired with a shifting of his hips, not forward, but back. It sends a flash of anger through you and you’re shaking in his grasp, you’re sure he can feel it beneath his hold on you. You can feel the head of his cock pulling out and you squeeze your eyes shut, clenching around him desperately, like it might just keep him there.

Cold air rushes through your lungs as he retreats. If you were a better female you wouldn’t beg, but the warmth of his pulsing cock withdrawing from your cunt is like losing a limb. You can feel your heart rate pick up in panic as his tip halts right inside of your entrance, any slight movement from you will send him sliding out completely.

You gasp desperately, and it sounds like a plea of pain while he holds you on the end of this hot cock.

“Fuck you like you love me, Cassian,” you beg, body shaking with the effort it takes to keep still for him. You don’t even realize what you’ve said until the air shifts in the aftermath.

Cassian’s hold on your hips turns to steel and his spine straightens. The bond in his chest roars and his vision goes white. He nearly loses the grip he has on himself, the wall he’d so carefully built between the two of you, and your confession has him wanting to bury his cock so deeply into you it’ll break you in half, so that he’s embedded into your body, your soul, forever.

“Tell me again,” he commands, but it’s not a warcry signaling the beginning of battle. No, it’s something else, much softer. It makes you whimper.

But you refuse. You will not repeat the words that had slipped from your mouth as if someone else had taken control of your body, as if your mating bond had grown a voice and forced it from you on its own. The words that had been shoved so deeply within yourself that they hardly even sound like you.

Cassian’s demeanor changes at your lack of response, fisting your hair in his grasp. He forces you into the wall with his elbow to your spine and pulls your hair tight. Your neck cranes and your back bows in his hold. He leans in close, breath hot in your ear as he growls. “Tell. Me. Again.”

“Please,” you gasp. Please don’t make me repeat myself. Please don’t stop fucking me. Please don’t hate me–

“No, that’s not it,” he scolds, but his tone takes on a slightly softer tone. His movements are agonizingly slow, sliding deep into like he hasn’t left in the middle of dinner to fuck you against the wall not even twenty feet away. Your entire body shudders in reaction to the long stroke, and tears burn your eyes when he nearly pulls all the way out of you again. “Tell me, sweetheart. I didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t,” you choke, a stubborn tear rolling hot down your cheek. You squeeze your eyes tight so he doesn’t see, “You’re being cruel, Cassian.”

“I think you’re the one being cruel, sweetheart,” he counters lowly. “Taunting me with your words, touching other males, teasing me with this perfect pussy.” His last words are accentuated by two sharp thrusts that make your cunt convulse and a weak moan escape your lips. “So I think you’ll be repeating exactly what you said a moment ago when I ask you.”

How can such harsh words make you feel like this? Cassian’s been nothing but rude to you since you’d arrived and yet he makes you feel like no other has. And if this is how you feel when he’s discourteous, you imagine how you’d feel if he actually had feelings…

Cauldron fucking spare me.

You work to swallow, refusing to meet his gaze as you speak, voice trembling. “I said…fuck me like you love me.”

The air is sucked from your body at the admission, his body, from the room. He’s so silent that if his warmth at your back and the head of his cock weren’t torturing you, you wouldn’t even know he was here at all.

“Look at me,” Cassian asks, and his voice is soft, so tender that it makes you flinch.

You refuse. You can’t force yourself to look at him. Not when he’s going to glare at you and make fun of you–

“Sweetheart,” he coos, tracing a gentle thumb across your cheek. “Please.”

And you do.

You don’t even know who you’re looking at. Cassian’s hazel eyes have gone soft, big and wide and staring at you like he doesn’t recognize you either. His bond strokes against your heart like his fingers do your spine, his grip in your hair slackening as his brash fingertips melt into a caress.

“I do love you, sweetheart,” he admits, and a part of you so desperately wants to believe that he’s lying. That his sappy glance will morph into one of condescending and taunting, but you can see it in his eyes that he’s being nothing but honest.

That feeling in your chest tells you so, too.

But you can’t help the insecurities that whimper out of you. “You do?”

He releases a shaky chuckle and he relaxes like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. You gasp as he pulls out of you completely but he’s spinning you around and drawing you into his body, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss that doesn’t burn with lust but with love.

“Gods, yes,” he pants, pressing his forehead against yours. “I don’t know when it changed. Reckon I’ve always loved you, I think.”

Your heart soars at his words, mating bond singing in your chest. You can’t help but to grin up at him, brushing a loose strand of hair from his face, admiring his own look of awe.

“I think I’ve always loved you too, Cassian,” you sigh. Unable to help yourself you press up onto the tips of your toes, pecking him on the lips once, and then again.

The war between you is over.

Almost, because the string in your chest coiling and twining with his is the last thing keeping you apart.

Cassian must feel it too because he’s groaning like a dying male, leaning into you exaggeratedly. It makes you giggle and his heart soar.

“If I eat you out does that count as completing the bond, sweetheart? Need you to be mine right now.”

You laugh, burrowing your head into his chest. “Cassian, there is a dinner table right on the other side of this wall.”

He pulls away from you, face hard. The smile slips from your lips but his look isn’t one of anger, but primal protection.

“I’m not letting any of those fuckers see you like this.”

You cross your arms over your chest and raise your eyebrow in challenge. “Like what?”

That familiar razor-sharp smirk graces his lips, making your heart flutter in your chest. He reaches down to where your dress is torn and bunched up from your promiscuous activities, dragging two long fingers through your wetness and cum from minutes earlier.

You shudder as he draws his fingers away, into his mouth, answer enough.

“Well, then you better get me out of here quickly,” you purr, wrapping your hand around his still stiff cock. He grunts softly and his pupils dilate. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

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feiwelinchen · 1 year

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Help! Searching for a fanfiction!

It was Oikawa X Reader or OC and soulmate AU

Reader is deaf (and mute) because they haven't found their soulmate yet. They know Iwaizumi (I believe they are cousins?) And transfered to his school.

Everyone who hasn't found their soulmate yet has some sort of handicap (deaf, blind...) and thus is not allowed to participate in any sport

Oikawa is fooling everyone and pretends he has all his senses. He also speaks sign and did not TALK to reader, so they fount know he is the soulmate.

If you know this fanfiction please let me know.

I probably read it on tumblr or ao3 and back then only a few chapters were out.

Thank you

#fanfic search #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #fanfiction

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feiwelinchen · 2 years

Text

Part 3!

Iwaizumi's mind is racing. You're here.

You're here.

There's a dozen different post-game responsibilities he has but he doesn't care. This is more important.

You are more important.

He leads you to the JVA office that's thankfully empty. You, the generous person as always, sit and hear him out, his thoughts and feelings leading up to that day when he broke your heart. Why he broke your heart. When he falls silent and gives you space to speak you're not sure what to say so he asks the question he's been dreading.

"How is your dad?"

You grip the edge of your seat. "He passed away a few years ago, Haji."

"I... I'm so sorry."

You meet his sorrowful gaze with tears. "You should be. You could have been with me, could have loved me and supported me through it. We could've been together all this time." You sniffle and futilely wipe your cheek. "Instead you didn't even consult me when you decided what my future was going to be."

Iwaizumi's heart is breaking, knowing he made the wrong choice.

You stand. "I don't have anything else to say, Iwa." You see the hurt in his eyes but you don't let it dissuade you. "Take care of yourself."

And you're gone.

Iwaizumi feels the soul-crushing emptiness the same that you must have felt all those years ago and puts his head in his hands to sob, Olympics long forgotten.

It's chilly.

The autumn wind cuts through your clothes and you pout. "Geez, dad. You could've at least given me nicer weather today."

The path to his resting place is a familiar one that's become a walk of meditation. Introspection. And since you returned from the Olympics you've been plagued with the memories of your conversation. Of Iwaizumi. Visiting your dad gives you space to clear your mind and you use the walk think about everything you want to tell him. You don't need to look up to know where you're going.

The sound catches your attention first. It's soft, someone crying who doesn't want to be heard and instantly pulls at your heart.

You look up and see Iwaizumi Hajime kneeling at your dad's grave.

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feiwelinchen · 2 years

Text

Part 2 ❤️

Curse Oikawa Tōru.

You do not care that this is the final game for volleyball at the Tokyo Olympics. You wish you ignored every text he sent you and denied ever meeting him in person.

You're stuck in the seats he chose with malicious precision right behind the Argentinian bench so if you get up, the entire world will see you. If you shrink into your seat you're going to stick out among the cheering fans like a black rose among daisies.

You have to match the crowd's energy and pray to whatever volleyball ball Olympic gods still live on mount Olympus that you blend in.

You're not even paying attention to the game or the score, only hyper aware of the slowest scoreboard in the universe as the teams go all out.

The moment the game ends and half the crowd errupts you're on your feet. Your heart is pounding, flight instinct activated.

The closest stairs are toward Team Japan and you just go but your dashing is frantic and out of place enough that it draws his eye only for a split second but it's enough and he freezes among the frenetic activity of the end of the game and his lips are parting, emerald eyes widening in a surge of surprise as he realizes it really is you and

You bolt.

You're desperate to be alone before you drown in all these feelings but there's too many people why are there so many people.

From the corner of your eye you see Iwaizumi weaving around athletes laser-focused on you.

No, no, no, he hops the stadium railing with an ease that would be intoxicatingly attractive if he wasn't racing after you.

You're at the stairs now and he calls your name.

The image of the last time you saw him breaks your heart all over again as you're taking the stairs two at a time. People are clearing the way for the dramatic chase by the time you reach the top.

Iwa's still calling you but you don't stop. You can't. The tears are forming and the years are catching up. The pain and loneliness and hurt.

You run through the atrium, you can see the doors of the stadium

But you're not fast enough.

A firm, warm, heart-wrenchingly familiar hand wraps around your wrist.

The momentum of your run works against you as you whirl around and slam into his chest and he's warm and still smells good like the hint of cologne under a scent that's so unmistakably him and he instinctively wraps his arms around you.

"You're here," he says, incredulous, and you reflexively look up at him.

You wish you hadn't.

You remember the last time he was this close like it was yesterday and don't bother holding back your tears.

You spit out the words "I didn't know you would be here."

"Why?" He asks, his perfectly muscular chest having the decency to breathe heavily. "How?"

"It doesn't matter." You push against his stupidly hard body but he doesn't let go of your wrist.

"Please don't leave."

"Like you did?" You ask tearfully, angrily. Hurt weighs on his expression.

"I didn't want to," he says. When your face crumples in disbelief he insists "I didn't. I didn't want you to have to choose between coming with me and going home to your dad!"

You freeze, air locked in your lungs as the words spill out of Iwaizumi like he's afraid this will be his only chance.

"I knew how much we loved each other and I knew you wanted me to ask you to come with me, to come back here, but I also knew how much your dad meant to you. He was sick and neither of you knew how much longer he had." His own eyes are getting glassy now. "I didn't want to take any of your time away from him."

Iwaizumi glances around at the slow-moving crowd clearly spectating. "Please...can we just...talk? Somewhere else?"

There's a gentle nudge on your back though no one's near you and you nod, crying.

Iwaizumi slips his hand from your wrist into yours lacing your fingers together. He leads you away from the atrium and all you can focus on is the worn, faded bracelet against his skin.

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feiwelinchen · 2 years

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You always thought you'd visit Japan for the first time with Hajime.

That is...until he ended things. The night before graduating from UC Irvine you gave him a scrapbook of your time together, including the bracelet you made at the freshmen social where you met. He gave himself a clean break, you a broken heart, and left the next day.

You haven't spoken since.

Landing in Tokyo brings mixed feelings but there's so much to do for your team as they prepare for their event at the Olympics. You don't have time to linger on what could have been! Until the call of your name makes you pause. It's familiar but strange...one you've never heard in person.

"Oikawa?" you say in surprise as the brunette strides up to you.

"Well, well, well," he replies with a suave smile. "What are you doing here?"

You gesture to your nation's jacket with a proud grin. "Haven't you heard? I'm an athletic trainer now. What are you doing here?"

His eyes flash with something as he smirks. "Just come to collect my gold medal."

You laugh. "Confident as ever."

You're both avoiding the obvious.

Oikawa gives you a soft look as he asks "how's your dad?"

"Oh...he passed away a few years ago." You struggle to lift your gaze to the sky. "I wish he was here to see this." Oikawa nods and you mentally kick yourself for being a downer. Trying to lighten the mood you say "it was great to see you though! I'm so glad I finally got to meet you in person!"

Your throat tightens with what goes unsaid. It's been a while since you graduated but there's unresolved hurt there.

Your team calls for you. "Sorry, 'Kawa. I've got to go...but I'm so glad to bump into you here!"

"Hey, listen," Oikawa calls your name. "If you're free, would you like to come meet my team?"

You frown. "Your team? Why?"

"You know." He grins with his usual self-assuredness. "So I can show off about knowing an athletic trainer for another country."

With a snort you agree. "Sure. Do you still have my number?" When he nods you say "just text me when and I'll stop by if I can."

His teammates are nice enough though there's not much to be said over the language barrier. You think you're done with these emotionally charged interactions but Oikawa's pushing for more. He convinces you to come watch one of their games.

"Oikawa!" you admonish him as he drags you into the stadium. "This is the finals. Are you insane?!"

He clicks his tongue. "Now, now. It's the only time our schedules lined up. Are you saying you won't cheer for me?"

"Of course I will..." Though it makes your heart ache. "But don't you have an entire cheering section just for yourself?"

"Nonsense," he insists as he parades you up to a seat right behind their bench. "None of them are you."

You're weirdly self-conscious after he leaves to rejoin his team for the official entrance and the stadium fills up around you. Argentina comes out to an obnoxious round of applause and Oikawa hams it up, making you roll your eyes.

It's when Team Japan comes out that your heart stops and you wonder, no. You know Oikawa's done this on purpose...because the Team Japan athletic trainer comes out with his team

Wearing your bracelet.

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feiwelinchen · 2 years

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Find All The Fics Quickly and Easily.

☼☼Masterlist ☼☼

Last updated: 03/27/2022

Jujutsu Kaisen + Naruto Characters (so far). Requests are always open!

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feiwelinchen · 2 years

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Synopsis: Y/N grew up with Iwaizumi and Oikawa. You were inseparable through middle school and high school, until Oikawa’s love life started to have increasingly negative repercussions for you. After an unexpected incident forces you out of Aoba Johsai and into Tokyo’s Nekoma your bonds are tested. Will your friendship with the duo be able to survive?

Pairings: Iwaizumi Hajime X Reader, Oikawa x Reader, Kuroo x Reader

Genre: Social Media AU, Angst, Fluff, Crack, NSFW

Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, bullying, NSFW content, underage drinking

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the images or characters depicted in this SMAU.

Status: Complete

Y/N’s Squad | Iwaizumi’s Squad

Intro : Miyagi Group

Intro: Tokyo Group

Chapter One: The Incident

Chapter Two: Running

Chapter Three: The Truth Revealed

Chapter Four: We Should Talk

Chapter Five: My Miyagi Boy

Chapter Six: Shoot Your Shot

Chapter Seven: Nekoma Bound

Chapter Eight: Goodbyes {partial wc)

Chapter Nine: Let’s Talk (wc)

Chapter Nine Pt 2: NSFW! (wc)

Chapter 10: Don’t Say It (wc)

Chapter 11: Nekoma Day 1

Chapter 12: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Chapter 13: Part 1, Part 2 (wc)

Chapter 14: Cuddler

Chapter 15: Heartbreak

Chapter 16: Gym 3 Crew

Chapter 17: Kenma is my Favorite

Chapter 18: Leave Yachi Alone

Chapter 19: Submission Feels

Chapter 20: Keyboard Smash

Chapter 21: Kuroo

Chapter 22: Part 1, Part 2

Chapter 23: Miyagi Finals,

Chapter 24: A Trip Home

Chapter 25: Futakuchi (wc)

Chapter 26: Rooftops (wc)

Chapter 27: Trust (wc), Plans

Chapter 28: Writing Expo (wc)

Kuroo’s Route

Chapter 29: Kitten (wc)

Chapter 30: First Date (wc)

Chapter 31: Friendsgiving

Chapter 32: Nationals (wc)

Chapter 32.5: NSFW! (wc)

Chapter 33: Alone (wc)

Chapter 34: College Idiots (wc)

Chapter 35: Apart (wc)

Chapter 36: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (wc)

Chapter 37: Together (wc)

Chapter 38: Epilogue

Iwaizumi’s Route

Chapter 29: Volleyball (wc)

Chapter 30: Apologies (wc)

Chapter 31: Team Mom

Chapter 32: A Date (wc)

Chapter 33: Adopting Makki (wc)

Chapter 34: 1 AM (wc)

Chapter 35: Jealous (wc)

Chapter 36: California (wc)

Chapter 37: Epilogue

Oikawa’s Route

Chapter 29: Plaid Shorts (wc)

Chapter 30: Virginity (wc)

Chapter 31: Selfies

Chapter 32: Princess (wc)

Chapter 33: Airport (wc)

Chapter 34: Stargazing (wc)

Chapter 35: Summer Plans (wc)

Chapter 36: Part 1, Part 2 (wc)

Chapter 36.5: NSFW! (wc)

Chapter 37: Enough (wc)

Chapter 38: Epilogue

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feiwelinchen · 2 years

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akaashi keiji x reader, 2.3k words

Akaashi has just been stood up. Turns out that you had also been stood up.

This is stupid, Akaashi thinks as he watches a couple a few tables away sharing a slice of cake.

There’s a woman in the table beside them with a slice of cake as well, but she’s alone and aggressively stabbing at it with a fork; he had watched her buy it, wondering how long he had been sitting at this cafe since his coffee had long turned ice cold.

It was the third time that Akaashi had checked his phone for a message he knew wouldn’t be there. It was funny how much rationalization the mind could create when the heart wanted to believe a lie. He should have left an hour ago, but he made excuse after excuse as to why his date would have been late— the excuses should have stopped when thirty minutes passed and his phone didn’t beep with that stupid notification jingle.

“Okay.” Akaashi muttered in annoyance. His fingers drummed against the table, each beat gradually becoming more and more annoyed until he finally grew irritated at the sound. He reached for his phone one more time. Hope fizzled out when there was no notification.

Now it was official.

Akaashi Keiji had been stood up.

“What the hell?” Akaashi asked no one in particular as he leaned back in his chair. He should have known better than to accept Bokuto’s matchmaking tendencies when he begged him to go on this blind date.

Though he tried to convince himself that this didn’t happen, and that he didn’t even care, his lips tugged downward, tugging itself into an upset pout. He let out a deep sigh, hoping that no one else had noticed that he had been stood up.

With another quick glance around his shoulder towards the front door, he mentally noted that the woman sitting alone with the cake had been here as long as he had been. He gets up to leave but when he walks past your table he hears the same aggressive sound of a fork hitting the plate.

He doesn’t know what takes over him, always being the type to mind his business, but he clears his throat to grab your attention before asking, “Are you ok?”

The stranger looks up, your eyes glassy with a hint of sadness. “Oh.” you say as you’re pulled out of a daze. You look down at the destroyed food on the plate before you, “Oh damn.”

Maybe Akaashi hadn’t been the only person waiting for someone.

You quickly brush the crumbs off of your clothes, straightening yourself. Akaashi watches your cheeks flush with a light pink as you bow your head slightly.

“Are you okay?” Akaashi repeats his question.

You press your lips together into a thin smile as you shake your head. Your voice holds a hint of nervousness when you reply, “I guess this is as good as I can be. Being stood up sucks.”

Akaashi blinked a few times before he let out a soft laugh. Incredible. The world worked in mysterious ways.

“I know what you mean,” Akaashi says, “I got stood up too.”

“What? Mr. Tall, Handsome and Mysterious? You got stood up?”

Akaashi shrugs, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been out of the dating scene for a while so I’m rusty at this whole thing.” As his eyes gently gaze over at you, taking you in, he thinks to himself, she’s pretty. Then the realization dawns on him: “You think I’m handsome?”

Your face flushed with cute embarrassment as you looked down at the table. Akaashi can’t help the fond smile spreading across his face.

“Are you fishing for a compliment?” you groan, pouting.

“You said it first.” he teases.

This is a welcome diversion from his original plan for the night, he thinks. Yeah, getting stood up sucks, but he can’t deny the fact that his ego needed that boost after it plummeted to rock bottom from being stood up. Especially when it came from you.

He takes the seat in front of you. “Looks like we’re both members of the Lonely Hearts Club, huh?” he comments.

“If we’re going to be part of a club, we should at least pick a cooler name.”

Akaashi laughs, “Okay, you pick our new name.”

“You’re the one who started it, you name it.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, gently bumping his knuckles with yours. “We’re the founding members. We need to come up with the name together.”

“How can I be a founding member if I don’t even know your name?”

“It’s Keiji.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Akaashi smiles at you, which you happily return. While Akaashi initially wanted to go home and just drown in feelings of self pity for the night, he has a better idea.

He recognises the dejected look in your eyes because it mirrors the exact same way he feels on the inside. Akaashi doesn’t even know a single fact about you except your name and the fact that you’re supposedly single, but he feels the need to wipe any feelings of sadness from you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he meets your eyes, “Are you busy right now?”

They end up at a bowling alley a few blocks away from the cafe.

“How are you so bad at this?” Akaashi calls out once again, your bowling ball rolling right into the gutter for the third time tonight. He lets out a fit of giggles at the expression on your face. “How many gutters is that now?”

If he’s being honest, Akaashi is horrible at bowling. The only thing that’s carrying him through this game is his previous experiences from the bowling nights Bokuto and Kuroo insist on taking him oMr Pn to ‘solidify their friendship’. As if he could ever escape them.

“I’ve never gone bowling before!” you huff, scowling as you over him. You playfully bump his shoulder with yours. “You go bowl then. Get a strike.”

“And if I get a strike?”

“If you get a strike, I’ll buy you something to eat. If you don’t get a strike, you buy me something to eat,” you bet, folding your arms over your chest. In the slice of neon lighting from the ceiling, you look at Akaashi with pure challenge in your eyes. “Oh, suddenly Mr Pro-Bowler is all quiet?”

“You hush,” Akaashi points at you, “I’ll get a strike so I can shut your pretty mouth up.”

Akaashi strides past you, picking up a yellow bowling ball and taking his position on the platform. Carefully, he lifted the ball in his hand — once, twice, three times before he took four strides and rolled the bowl. Without even looking around, he felt cool as fuck. Kuroo had made enough snarky comments in the past that his form was now undeniably perfect.

Slowly, he looked up to see the bowling ball rolling down the lane. As it drew near, Akaashi donned a proud smirk — that was until the ball veered right and kept going right until it went into the gutter.

From behind him, he could hear you jump up and whoop in excitement. Akaashi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Shut up and pick whatever food you want, Y/N.”

“Oh my god,” you mocked, “how are you so bad at this?”

Akaashi walked over to you and poked at your sides. “Shut up.” he warns in between pokes. You were ticklish — he figured it out quickly when you burst into a fit of giggles, clutching at your sides as you tried to grab his hands and make him stop. When Akaashi finally stopped, he nods, “Come on. I owe you food, a bet is a bet.”

“A man of his word,” you grin, “how refreshing.”

“Wait, your best friend was the one who set you up on this blind date?” you asked, walking alongside Akaashi. You were holding a fresh ice cream cone, courtesy of him and Akaashi had to look away every time you licked at the ice cream dripping down the sides. Akaashi was nice, and polite, and respectful but he was still a man.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Akaashi replies, licking his own cone. “I should’ve known better than to agree. I guess for once, I just wanted to step outside of my comfort zone. Look where that landed me, huh.”

“You know,” you perk up, “I saw this documentary once where this girl got stood up by a guy on a date. She was devastated but turns out he was a serial killer and she was about to become his next victim. Maybe it was for the best.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow at you, “You think my friend set me up with a serial killer?”

“You never know!”

“In that case,” Akaashi gasps in faux surprise, “Maybe we both just got luck and narrowly avoided becoming victims!”

“Or maybe you’re the murderer!” you point accusingly. “What kind of guy is this hot with an amazing personality I like, and isn’t a psychopath? Plus you’re eating mint-chocolate out of all the flavours. Very suspicious.”

“I’m a murderer because I like mint chocolate?” Akaashi laughs before pointing at you. “Maybe you’re the murderer. It would make sense. People as beautiful as you are rarely as funny or annoying as you are.”

“I am not annoying.”

“I don’t know.” Akaashi smirks. “I think I need to get to know you a little bit better before I make my final judgement.”

You hum. “Maybe you do.”

“For the record,” Akaashi says as he walks you to the front door of your apartment building, “most people don’t allow strangers they just met to drop them off at the house.”

You stop and turn to look at him and shrug. You struggle to locate your keys in your bag that Akaashi offers to hold your jacket. “For the record, I don’t usually go out with strangers after being stood up.”. You smile up at him, shadows cast against your face under the dim lighting of the entrance. “Thanks for making my shitty night actually really fun.”

“Yeah. Thanks for saying yes and being really cool about it.” Akaashi smiles back.

An awkward silence falls between you two.

Normally, this would be the social cue for Akaashi to say some cheesy line and maybe lean in for a kiss but he literally just met you and this wasn’t exactly a date. It was just an introduction… he hoped.

“Um so,” Akaashi breaks the silence as he hands you back your jacket. When it comes to asking for someone’s number, it usually comes before hanging out with them— this is new territory for him. He clears his throat before asking, “Do you think I could get your number? You know… just in case you get stood up again and need someone to hang out with.”

You smile as you reply, “I don’t know, this guy I have a crush on now doesn’t seem like the type of person who would stand me up.”

“Oh yeah?” Akaashi feels his heart picking up its pace as he watches you smile coyly. “The guy you have a crush on, huh? I hope he’s not a murderer.”

“I hope so too,” you grin, “since he knows where I live and all now.”

“Yeah, I hope he’s not weird.”

“I don’t know, I’m hoping he calls before anything. Especially since he already has my number.” you said as you turn around and hum a tune, punching in the code to the front door.

Akaashin blinks a few times. Had you given him your number already? He couldn’t remember. Akaashi was sure he would have remembered if you gave him your number.

“Check your coat pocket!” you call out from the door. “Text me later! I want to know if you got home safely. I’m not running the Lonely Hearts Club alone!”

Akaashi puts his hands in his pocket as you close the door and start walking away. He pulls out a strip of tokens he had gotten from the bowling alley earlier when he had unsuccessfully tried to win you a small plushie.

“How cute.” Akaashi says, shaking his head at himself.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto calls out from the sofa as soon as he steps through the door. “What the hell? You stood up my friend?”

Akaashi looks up from taking off his shoes, whipping his head around to look at Bokuto. “What?”

“She texted me an hour ago, saying she waited for so long in the cafe until she just gave up and left!” Bokuto bounds to where Akaashi is, looking like a kicked puppy. “I gushed about you so much, and now she probably thinks I pulled a fast one on her.”

“I waited for so long in the cafe! I even got there half an hour early.” Akaashi exclaims in disbelief.

Bokuto’s brows furrow in confusion. “You were? But she was there for at least two hours. I sent her a photo of you, and she even sat on the ground floor so she could look for you.”

“But I was—”

Did Bokuto say ground floor? The cafe he was in only had one floor to begin with. He lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead.

“What cafe did you say she was waiting at?”

“The Coffee House! You know, that new hipster place in the centre with the records along the front. It was the perfect place for a blind date.”

“Bokuto,” Akaashi says exasperated, “you told me to go to the House of Coffee, the cafe near that bowling alley we always go to.”

Time seems to freeze for a second until Bokuto’s eyes widen in realization. “I-I did?”

Akaashi doesn’t answer, simply patting Bokuto’s shoulder and walking past him to head into his room. Under normal circumstances, Bokuto would be on the receiving end of a lecture about how important small details were.

Not tonight, however. He pulls his phone out from his pocket, quickly dialing your number as he steps into his room. It only takes two rings before you pick up.

“Hey, Y/N. I just made it home.”

a/n: imagine standing up the akaashi keiji... couldn't be me.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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