PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.

synopsis; you were in the middle before you knew you had begun. or, the pride and prejudice remake that no one asked for. (for the love club love collab.)

pairing; sakusa x f! reader

contains; enemies-to-lovers, self-indulgent yearning, historical au (eighteenth century) with no discernible location, mutual pining, slow burn, no sex because it’s jane austen, lots of direct quotations from the novel and pride and prejudice (2005) because why ruin perfection

acknowledgements; i would like to formally thank @suedebunn for being my pillar of moral support and @kmorgzz for beta reading in my time of need. i love you both most ardently.

word count; 10.1k

––––

– ACT FIVE.

it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

at least, that’s what your mother, mouth full, would have told you and your sisters over the dinner table. retrospectively, though, you should have told her that she was entirely full of shit. had you known better then, you would have turned down the dances, the meetings, the tense flirtation. you would have, had you realized, separated yourself from him and his possibilities entirely. you would have rewritten the nature of your entire existence so that you did not, would not, have to watch your sister’s heart be shattered like glass across the tiles. 

perhaps single men want wives. but that does not mean they want you. and that certainly does not mean they will play nice to get it.

Keep reading

Haikyuu’s most eligible bachelors: akaashi, sakusa, suna

HOLY FUCK WOW

lined figures - i.

a collection of monoline sketches and paint splatters

featuring : sakusa kiyoomi, ojiro aran, and azumane asahi

here’s part two !

[ note ] —  so i messed around a bit while making a spread for school, and ended up with these guys! also mushroom chocolate had a part in stimulating my creative juices, so go and give it a listen <3 

[ itachiyama’s sakusa kiyoomi ]

[ inarizaki’s ojiro aran ]

[ karasuno’s azumane asahi ]

floraliaison © 2021 — please do not remove the watermark. credit if using / reposting (floral.liaison on instagram). thank you!

MY HEART CAN’T HANDLE THIS

imagining love

description: iwaizumi finally gives into his desires and allows himself to imagine love

pairing: iwaizumi x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: language

a/n: to the anon that requested this, thank you! ALSO this can be read as a stand alone as well <3

pt 1

Iwaizumi never thought he was cut out for love. Not in a cynical, self-loathing way– he just couldn’t imagine it.

He couldn’t imagine himself being vulnerable and raw with anyone. The thought of having to put himself on display made him want to immediately hide and never speak to anyone again.

Maybe that was why Iwaizumi was so drawn to you. You had known each other for years, walls had already been torn down and boundaries have been set in stone for ages. Conflicts were easily solved and rarely even arose, but even though things were simple, they were never boring.

You challenged him in a way that never pushed too far. You liked to tip-toe on the edge, teasing him, but you never overstepped. Emotions weren’t easy for Iwaizumi. They made him second guess himself and shy away, but you never charged ahead to leave him behind; rather you kept your speed gradual so he could catch up when he was ready.

But on that day when he visited you while you were sick, Iwaizumi had been the one to act first. It had felt so natural, he hadn’t even realized your hands were in his until he saw your wide-eyed expression.

It was almost comical. You were always the one to reduce him into a blushing mess that he couldn’t help but be amused by your nervous smile and sweaty palms.

The idea that maybe you just might reciprocate his feelings made his chest warm.

But what was the next step? Oikawa told him to “follow his heart” which seemed like good enough advice, until he had remarked how Iwaizumi was a “heartless brute” who “picked on his best friend for no good reason.” Therefore all advice from Oikawa was immediately scrapped, and now Iwaizumi had to start again from the beginning.

Which is what brought him standing outside your classroom, holding the same tote bag packed with an extra lunch that he had made last night for you.

If food worked last time, it had to work again– right?

He waited anxiously off to the side, searching for your familiar bobbing head in a sea of students.

Would you think it was weird of him to be waiting for you? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to meet you outside your class, but Oikawa was usually there with him.

Iwaizumi didn’t have much time to overthink it before you met his gaze and shuffled over to him.

“I’m loving the tote, Iwa,” you smirked teasingly, “it’s very trendy.”

“It’s my mom’s, dumbass, and for that comment you’re not getting any of the food that’s in it,” he grumbled, gripping the handles of the bag impossibly tighter.

“Okay relax, relax,” you tugged on his elbow, which sent shockwaves coursing through his whole body. “What I meant to say was: ‘very nice man-satchel, Iwaizumi-san, it’s so very manly and the flowers complement your biceps perf-’”

“Alright enough,” Iwaizumi didn’t think his face could get any redder, “let’s just go eat.”

You straightened. “No Oikawa today?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. Did you prefer it when Oikawa was there? He was starting to feel very awkward about the 5,000 yen he had paid Oikawa to eat lunch with someone else today.

“Good,” you said softly with a slight nod, and his heart did cartwheels.

—-

You usually ate lunch on the steps outside the volleyball gym; however since the winter had been so cold lately, you and Iwaizumi ate inside the gym, sprawled across the floor.

You looked pretty today. You always looked pretty, but today especially so. Something about the way your hair was framing your face, and lashes brushing against your cheeks every time you blinked, made his stomach twist and turn.

How did you see him? Iwaizumi knew that he wasn’t unattractive, and you liked to tease him with flirtatious jokes. But did you mean them? He always brushed your words off as trivial, trying to not get his hopes up, but the possibility of the smallest amount of genuineness plagued his thoughts.

“What ’cha thinkin’ ‘bout?” You asked with a mouthful of rice.

“About how I’m going to have to tell you that you have soy sauce all over your face.”

Your brows wrinkled as you wiped your face, and Iwaizumi wanted to reach out and smooth the furrow with his fingertips.

“Did I get it all?” You asked him, and your eyes looked so clear and bright that he longed to stare into them forever.

He could feel his face starting to heat up again. “Hold on there’s just a little left…” Iwaizumi trailed off while brushing his thumb against the corner of your mouth.

Shit, shit, shit.

You were so close– only a breath or two away, and wow did your hair always smell that good?

This was so ridiculously cliché, practically out of a movie, and yet Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel giddy, despite his whole body nearing volcanic temperatures and his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears.

Your own expression mirrored his, except you looked expectant– like you were waiting for something.

Him, he realized, you were waiting for him.

In any other situation, you would just plow ahead, trusting that Iwaizumi would easily catch up. However, whenever the conditions became nuanced with emotion, you always let him make the first move. You never pressured him into anything and left the situation entirely in his control.

Which he needed. When everything got too overwhelming, Iwaizumi was desperate to grasp onto every ounce of control possible. 

And you let him too. You didn’t have to be this patient with him, but you were. All of this was uncharted territory for Iwaizumi: the vulnerability, the emotions, and the desire.

So he gave into everything, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

It was a gentle kiss, just a brushing of lips, and he was about to pull back before you leaned in further and deepened the kiss. You were both left breathless when you pulled away from each other, and Iwaizumi couldn’t fight the grin that reached his face.

“Got it,” he mumbled against your lips.

You stared at him wide-eyed and speechless before throwing your head back and laughing at his remark.

“My hero,” you teased. 

He flushed deeper, getting impossibly redder. He wanted to do it again, and again. 

It still scared him. This added layer of emotions would leave him more exposed, but he knew that you would never push him past his limits, and for this he was forever grateful.

So no, Iwaizumi couldn’t imagine himself in love,

with anyone but you.

Imagine Matsukawa coming home and he tells you a bullshit story of working at a funeral home. Here’s one I came up:

Warning: mentions and description of barf, mentions of funeral homes, caskets, and dead bodies

Note: I had way too much fun writing this

“You are not going to believe what happened today,” he huffed angrily as he tosses his jacket on a hook near your home’s entrance.

“What?” You ask with a semi-mouthful of food.

He locks his eyes with yours. “Some kid threw up in the casket.” The dark obsidian pools held utter wrathful irritation.

Your eyes immediately widen, narrow, and then dart away to avoid his gaze, fearing you might lose it if you made eye contact. You suck in your lips nervously to contain the laughter surging in your chest, coughing into a fist to dispel it.

“I even had to clean it up,” he says exasperated, hands clenching into fists, veins popping and relaxing at his movements.

“That,” you begin with a deep breath, swallowing the remnants of food down, “sounds awful. To the home and the family too,” you quickly add. If you kept talking, you wouldn’t give away your amusement.

He scoffs, but it sounded like an exhausted annoyance. “Yeah, it was. It was even chunky.” He turns to look at you, but noticed how you were hiding your face behind your hand, the crinkles at your eyes evident of the grin behind your palm.

Your eyes meet and you can’t hold it in any longer. The laugh you felt bubbling in your chest bursts past your lips before you can reign it back in. You clamp a hand over your lips, but it fails to subdue the chortles. You desperately clutch your sides as ceaseless laughter seize your body. Your eyes squeeze shut, forcing a tear down your face. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to gasp out before dissolving into laughter again. “But that’s hilarious. The description and the kid,” you wheeze as you continue to chuckle at the absurdity.

Matsukawa can’t help but guffaw with you. The thought of him spewing vulgar curses while stubbornly cleaning up after a poor kid who couldn’t stand a corpse was absolutely ludicrous. You even felt bad for the kid who had to be on the receiving side of Matsukawa’s infamous withering gaze. He could’ve created an even bigger mess.

He pulls the chair out next to you, eyes glinting with humor and watches as you wipe away the tears of laughter from your blossomed cheeks.

“Do you want me to tell another story at my work?” He asks, suddenly mischievous, a part of him wanting to hear your ringing laugh. The horrifying experience had completely slipped over his head.

You quickly nod, forgetting how badly your sides and jaw hurt.

He smiles as he takes your hand and begins the story.

You both spent the night taking turns and sharing stories and ordeals that happened at work, howls of laughter and countless chuckles fill the air of your home and it now became tradition.

Ever since then, he finds himself filled with giddiness on his route home to tell you what happened today, and eagerly waits to hear yours.

It’s nice to come home like this, he thinks.

OmiOmi vacuuming and he comes across an area of the carpet where it makes that lskshebsbejsbsjlajsksks noise and he’s like FUCK YEAAAHHH