#nova-y

[mysterystarz]

although he doesn’t seem it, miya osamu would be the one to sneak a kiss behind the bookshelves of a library.

it was never a dramatic trip. you simply wanted to collect something to read in your pastime and he readily offered to accompany you, saying something about how he could look at the manga options.

the two of you make your way to your desired section, with you tucking behind the shelves until you find your favorite author. you run your fingers along the spines, until osamu gently lifts your chin and angles your face to meet his.

you’re shocked for a moment, so shocked that you barely register the press of his lips on yours. they’re warm and soft, and leaving yours far too soon as he steps away to look back at the books.

your best friend…kissing you… behind shelves?

well that complicates things.

#nova scribbles <3 #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu headcanons

[nobianna]

Laying back against ony’s chest as he stuffs his fingers deep into you’re cunt whispering the nastiest things into your ear, telling you how much of a slut you are for going behind your boyfriends back to fuck on one of his best friends.

His hands run up and down your bare chest and stomach squeezing the flesh occasionally, speeding up his finger strokes.

“Mhm hmm, you know he can’t even fuck you the way my fingers do huh baby?”

You couldn’t do anything but mumble incoherent words, the way his thumb was attacking your clit as he continued his thrust was to much for you.

The squelching of your wet pussy meeting his fingers was enough to make him cum right along with you.

He softly sucked on your neck making you moan even more than you already were, onyankapon knew all the right places to get you to your peak.

He knew places Not even Your man knew and that’s what made him so special to you, the way he could get you wet just by staring at you next to your man, knowing he’s dapping you’re boyfriend up with the same hand he was finger fucking you with was such an adrenaline rush, and it add you crave him more and more.

“S-ahh, I’m gonna cummm”

You were gonna gonna give him exactly what he wanted every time and that’s what made you so special to him.

Ony doesn’t even know how this started but he did know he had a thing for you since he laid eyes on you.

He wanted you to cum all over him, anywhere he offered to you.

And you were gonna do that no matter how wrong it felt, it still felt so right.

#I don’t condone cheating hoe #aot fandom #black writers #onyankopon smut #nova drabbles #black reader #cancel white bitches #armin arlet headcanons #connie smut #connie springer #eren x black reader #eren jeager smut #onyankopon x black y/n #aot x female reader #attack on titan smut #aot onyankopon #onyankopon snk #connie springer x black reader smut

[ozdicaff]

Drawing from the magma! Inspired from this reblog on @venomous-qwille 's recent drawing of Nova!

#myart #security breach daycare attendant #the daycare attendant #ghost in the machine #ghost in the machine nova #nova #daycare attendant x y/n

[growup-thatbeautiful]

Okay, now that you've introduced us to gym crush Dave, what about gym bf Dave where he's a lot more confident in watching you do your sets, and being a total hype gym bf <3

(Sorry if it's not descriptive enough... it's late asf and I'm tired)

aww this is adorable! thanks for the request lovely 🧡 sequel to this fic but not necessary to have read :) short n sweet for this one

The gym isn’t crowded today; you thank the early hour for the emptiness. It’s not your preferred time (5 A.M is a little too early for you), but Dave couldn’t find any other room in his schedule, and it’s always better to have a built-in-boyfriend/gym partner.

You’re benching, the rhythmic movement up and down timed with your breathing, sweat making your hair stick to your forehead. The burning in your arms has already started, a feeling on the edge of pain. You already finished one set, following the plan that you and Dave made this week for your goals together. If it was anyone else, you would’ve told them to fuck off for talking about your workout routine; but it’s how you and Dave connect, among other things. Somehow, it’s easy to listen to his guidance and his encouragement. It helps that he’s always the most sincere, quietly supportive person that you know.

He’s beside you now, scrolling through his phone while he takes a break. There’s a layer of sweat covering his body, the black material of his shorts and tank-top doing nothing to hide his muscles.

Through the haze of your music, you hear Dave’s voice, always patient and calm. “You can do more than that.”

“What?” you ask, frustration seeping through your tone. Ever since you started working out with him, your routine has become decidedly harder, which you’re both thankful for and tired of. It’s undeniable that Dave pushes you past your limits in the best way possible. He takes a step closer to you, leaving his own weights on the ground.

“Come on, baby. You can do more than that. Here-” he helps you rack your weight and adds another five to both sides “you go. Try now.”

“Dave,” you start, peeling yourself off from the sticky plastic of the bench, “I could barely do what I was already doing.”

“But you did it,” he points out. “You go until failure, right? So add more.”

Reasonably, you know he’s right. You’ve got more in you, even though you may not feel like it, but the heaviness of your breathing and the shakiness of your limbs protest.

“Fine,” you huff, ignoring the grin on his face. “But you have to spot me, bub.”

“Of course.” Easily, he steps around you to get into position, ready to help if you need it. There’s no one you trust more than him to spot you; he’s always unfailing protective of you. Quietly, when you lift the bar from the resting position, he urges you on. “You got it, honey.”

Breathing in, you bring the bar to your chest and pause before pushing it back up, breathing out. One rep. Two reps. Dave’s voice steadily counting as you keep going, encouragements littered in-between. You finish the first set and take a breath, sitting up.

“There you go, baby,” Dave cheers quietly, his headphones around his neck, curls sticking out in all directions despite your attempt to pin his hair back. “See, you didn’t even need my help,” he points out.

“Asshole,” you grin, popping the knuckles in your hand. He sees it and takes your hand in his own, massaging your knuckles and giving your wrists a squeeze before helping you lay back down on the bench.

The next set passes and the next set passes, until you can’t lift anymore and Dave has to help you rerack your weights. Your arms are bone tired, burning, and shaking.

“Good job, baby,” he says once you’re sitting up, your face flushed and heated with sweat. There’s pride on his face that makes you feel proud of yourself. “I knew you could do it.”

“That makes one of us,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He grabs your water too and hands it to you, and you gratefully take it.

“Come on, have a little faith. You’ve got a great coach, you know.” Running a hand through his curls, Dave starts his own set, not waiting for you to start again, which you appreciate.

When he takes his next break, you take a look around the gym to make sure that no one else is looking your direction. Once you’re satisfied, you wrap your arms around his neck, sweat be damned, and peck him gently. “Thank you,” you whisper before pulling away, leaving Dave to stare at you, open-mouthed, his eyes wide and surprised.

“You’re going to pay for that later,” he warns breathlessly, a half-grin on his face.

“Yeah?” you ask, pulling his headphones back up to cover his ears. “I’m counting on it, coach.”

#gym crush dave #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski fic #kick ass #kick ass fanfic #kick ass fic #atj #atj x reader #atj x you #aaron taylor johnson #nova writes

[novasdarling]

Dark content!!

"Whether it’s because you got too friendly with another Trouper member, or because you’re misbehaving"

OK, but what if Darling was ignoring the phantom members completely? Like even if the phantom women try to make Chrollo's girlfriend open up more, Darling refuses openness

It's like, "These are my kidnappers' friends? then they're my enemies."

–Thank you🌹

I played around with this idea, more with the idea that the reader just wants to be alone. Enjoy the time to relax when they can.

The Friend Of My Enemy

TW: Kidnapping Mentioned, Sort of Stockholm Syndrome, Dubcon Touching, Forced Relationship, Gender Neutral Reader besides the idea of having girlfriends.

There was noise coming from outside the room, you could hear it, most likely coming from down the hall. It was voices, they were chatting and coming closer. After a few moments you could tell it was the voices of women, it was Pakunoda and Shizuku. You weren't sure what they were saying and you simply didn’t care. Whatever left their mouths meant nothing for you, unless it was a message from Chrollo. Even then, you simply would hear what they had to say and then turn away. As long as you followed Chrollo’s rules, you would be fine. He usually asked one of the women in the troupe to relay a message while he was busy. All you had to do was listen to them and then you could go back to staring out the window or at the ceiling. You would be left alone again. 

“Are you listening?” It was Pakunoda, you must have missed what she said when they had entered. You apologized and asked what she had said. “Chrollo wants to know what you want to eat?” 

That was odd, he never really asked you what you wanted when it came to anything. At most he would get you your favourite without you asking for it. Assuming you’d enjoy it because it’s your favourite or something you like at the moment. You’d be an idiot to pass up on this as puzzling as it was. Letting the girls know what you wanted, giving options he could get you. Worried that he'd take it badly if you didn’t give him some control over this decision. Expecting them to leave after you informed them, you turned back to stare out the window. It was dark outside, all there were, were trees and a fence enclosing the property you were being kept at.  

“We’re not near any sort of town or anything.” It was Shizuku this time, noticing Pakunoda was gone when you glanced over. She was pointing out the surroundings. “Nowhere to go.” 

There it was, she thought you were analyzing a way to escape. Taking in where you were in order to figure out a way to getaway. She couldn’t have been more wrong. You gave up any attempt of escaping months ago, after the second time you got out, he brought you back just to break your legs as punishment. Forcing you to rely on him for everything. You were helpless, completely at his mercy. More so than before. Something you never wished to experience again. 

“I know. My place is with him.” 

Shizuku sat beside you and looked out with you. You wanted her to leave. She had no right to join you in your isolation. This was the only time you ever had alone when Chrollo was busy with work so he let you be for a few hours. Although you could swear he was there with you most of the time, his normal piercing gaze didn’t feel as hot when you were alone. Giving you materials for entertainment. You were used to this, to being alone when you could. Something you had come to enjoy and now she was ruining it. Why now? Occasionally some of the troupe members attempted to communicate with you, but they never bothered to try anything besides a few words here and there. Certainly not sitting down with you.  

“He’ll grab you the first thing you asked for. Says he’ll save the rest for tomorrow.” Pakunoda was back. 

So, you were staying here for at least another full day. Whatever they were doing was taking longer than normal. Perhaps Chrollo would take you out after everything as a treat, as a thank you for being so well behaved. It was a kind gesture he would do occasionally.  

“What are you two looking at?” 

“She keeps staring out the window. Told her there's nowhere to go.” If only they could just shut up. 

“It’s true, no town close enough you could get to before he found you.” 

“No shit. I know.” It was tiring to be told you were stuck again. Especially after you’ve accepted your fate. 

You could feel both of them looking at you. Surprised by your words, you had never been rude to them. Just calmly brushing them off before. Now though, it didn’t matter, even if you did want to leave. You couldn’t, they were right. You wouldn’t be able to get far enough before he found you and dragged you back. It was silent again, you kept your eyes on the window. Looking out at the darkness. Even when you felt both of them move closer to you, you didn’t look at them or talk. Pakunoda had joined you guys, taking a seat near you too. You wished they would leave. To finally leave you alone. They were all murderers and monsters like Chrollo, but at least he seemed to love you. Had somewhat of an interest in taking care of you. They were only loyal to him, tolerating you for him. There was no friendship with them, with any of them. Chrollo had hinted at you to be friendly with them, letting them entertain you. However, it was useless. 

“He loves you. He only wants to make sure you're safe. There’s a lot of danger out there.” 

There it was, you were waiting to see why they seemed so keen on staying with you. It seemed they had a motive. Trying to get you to favour Chrollo more perhaps. Sweet talk him to you as if they were pitching him. It was annoying, they saw how you accepted him. That you barely fought him anymore. Why the sudden switch? You remembered how Chrollo had previously hinted that you take them as your friends, to have more people than just hint to talk to. You had said no before, saying you liked being alone, only earning a laugh from him. As if your words were foolish and wrong. Now you thought you knew why he had laughed, that they would keep trying. In order to keep an eye on you. Be Chrollo’s eyes and ears in case you planned to leave or disobey him. 

“You love him, right?” Shizuku’s words grabbed your attention even more. Making you look at her. 

It took a moment before you put the pieces together. These weren't their own words, no, they were from Chrollo. He was using them to ask you things he knew he couldn’t. Everything you said to them would just be relayed back to him. You could never open up to them, let them know how you felt. Anything you said he would hear. They were loyal to him, not to you.  

As much as you wished to lash out at them, let them know you weren’t friends. If he had something to ask, he could ask himself, but any outburst would be seen as you rejecting him. Instead, you swallowed your words and answered them in a way you knew he would like. Stating that of course, you did, especially after all this time, you realised his kindness and sweetness now. Shizuku smiled, seeming to believe your words, while Pakunoda sreadinto you a bit more. You went back to looking out the window and they seemed to take it as their cue to leave. Letting you be alone again. 

Chrollo hadn't come to you until late that night, you were already curling up on the bed. Believing he wouldn’t come till much later, being proved wrong when he walked in. You both stared at each other for a bit. You wanted to yell at him for sending his members to talk to you, but that was a bad move. Instead, you welcomed him, asking him how his day was as he undressed, pulling the blankets back to welcome him to bed.  

“You seem exhausted my dear.” You nodded, laying your head on his chest when he laid down. “Is that why you were so rude to the girls?” 

So, they had told him what you said and how you acted. That you were annoyed with their presence and words. You were right to assume nothing was safe with them. Apologizing you leaned more into him, hoping your affection would make up for your poor behaviour. After all, it wasn’t him you were cold to, so he shouldn’t be angry, but his grip on you was tight, more than normal. He was upset, you guessed wrong. 

“They only wished to keep you company. You need to show them a better attitude next time. Remember they are my members.” Exactly, his members. 

“I just want to be left alone.” 

Chrollo pulled you closer to him, now having you entirely on him instead of simply having your head resting on his cheat. A hand is placed on your hip to hold you still, while the other is under your chin with his thumb holding you still. Forcing you to look at him. 

“My dear, you’re never truly alone. I’m always there, in one form or another. I’ll always know what you're up to.” He pulled your chin closer to him so he could whisper in your ear. His breath is hot on your skin. “I know you, body and soul my sweet. You’ll never be truly alone again. They don’t tell me things I don’t already know.” Releasing your chin after so you could lean back. “So, I suggest you take the few friends I’ll allow you to have since your only reason not to have them is wanting to be alone and we established that isn't the case.” 

Chrollo grinned at you. Waiting for you to say something, yell at him, disagree with what he’s asking for, but what could you say? You always knew this was the case, that you would never be alone again, but there was always a sliver of hope you could be alone. Away from him, yet his words pointed out the truth, any hope left as you looked at him. Nodding you went back to laying down, staying on him. His hand on your hip refused to let you leave. You didn’t want to look at him, not now so you buried your face in his neck. Tuning him out as he went on about how good it will be to have a diverse group of company. All it was, were people to help him keep an even better eye on you, this wasn’t for you. 

#yandere #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere phantom troupe #yandere x reader #yandere blog #hxh #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x reader #hxh chrollo #phantom troupe x reader #phantom troupe #nova writes #yandere writing

[ripplefields]

what if we mixed warioware and splatoon ? i think it would look BANGIN !!!!!!!

#warioware #orbulon #orbulon warioware #digital art #splatoon #<- sure #rip orbulon you would've loved not vertical flicking your roller and just rolling into people #see aesthetics wise he would probably like the luna blaster or splattershot nova #very space-y weapons #but i think utility wise he'd like the carbon roller #also yeah the carbon roller is kinda heavily referenced . i didnt want to draw it fully by hand #this is bc of the last character you drew and last game you played'' thing

[fisheito]

i told myself that yakuei only had one position then i proved myself (sorta) wrong

my fave face here:

#technically... if they were boinking in outer space... a lot of these would be the same position #makes a rotate-y gesture with my fingers #what is yakumo's kabedon if not a vertical missionary #so i've half proven myself right AND wrong! i'm net neutral in outer space broskis!!!!! #zizz-asdf if ur reading these tags i'll have u know that u inspired me to Do the Research1 #like. 5 garu riding eiden? no. it can't be. does yaku do one specific thing with eiden 5 times? *tries to write it down* #i can't quite... what's the word for that position...uhhhh #ah forget it i'll just draw it out #<- that was the process of creating this. collage? 😆 #THE MATRIX OF YAKUEI BOINKINg POSITIONS (under construction) #when u about to be semi-normal and make a spreadsheet but ur sexcabulary is stunted so you resort to visuals instead #legit opening up every intimacy room and skipping thru sections to get as complete a picture as possible #wondering... where are yaku's feet planted in this one. (skips to 8minute mark) #ah! there they are. theyre not supporting his weight in this one *draws it* #while drawing crimson phantom room 2 my brow was furrowed and i was mentally narrating #[and this one i affectionately call.. rectal exam - professional misconduct Grounds for Termination)] #surprised they str8 up havent done classicdoggstyle yet. is it because he's a snake? garu should teach him #also surprised that there's been no Light SSR for yaku yet. come on!! Light mode on the double! #uhhh i think the only repeated positions were freestanding (choco liqueur r2 and dark nova r2) #and standing AGAINST! THE! WALL! (choco liqueur r5 {interior} and shadow lineage r5 {cave}) #wait. *throws papers around* i swear they did missionary more than once. was it only ocean breeze??? #i know with the intimacy rooms they gotta modify the positions into certain angles to make it...look...better #but seriously? only one missionary out of the lot of them? despite the aesthetic tweaks??? how can that ........ #*tosses more papers around with increasing befuddlement* WHERE IS MY PURE 100% VANILLA BEAN ICE CREAM #sighs as all the papers lie scattered on the ground #dude... i don't know anymore..... this is beyond my scope #now that i see how evenly spread out the positions are... #i BET the devs have SOME SORTA CHART tracking yaku's positions. now THAT'S a funky office corkboard! #yakuei

[finelinevogue]

these are angsty times, so i feel like a good angsty blurb about h never making time for you is one idea. but since these are angsty times, then maybe it also calls for fluff so maybe h likes to do one thing different in any of his songs for you every show? kind of like sabrina carpenter’s nonsense outro? so like maybe during keep driving, he always sings something different to you or about you?

pls tell me i’m making sense, i can’t talk i’m too excited

okay hello. of course my first blurb back would be requested at the hands of our very own nova (this is especially for you);

(this is part of the harryshouse!universe too)

It was a known thing that Harry was very much in love with you.

If anything, the poor man was so in love with you he got teased for it. Even the fans were in on some of the jokes. You being a well known Youtuber and social media influencer meant that Harrys doting love was often well publicised.

Actions such as him buying you flowers, him making you dinner or taking you out for a fancy dinner would be shown on your Instagram for fans, and everyone else, to see. However, simple things like stolen kisses, hand-written love notes and 3AM ice-cream runs for you were actions that you kept secret and close to your heart.

Those actions were yours and Harrys alone.

There were some actions, however that were made overtly public so even people that didn't have Instagram or follow you would hear of.

Some of Harrys love declarations made National news headlines.

Specifically the changing of lyrics at his concerts.

Like stated, it was no surprise that the love Harry had for you would cause him to do some crazy things, but Harry changing his lyrics on stage would always be on of the greater, funnier, gestures for you. What's more, is they were as public as they came.

It started with 'Keep Driving'. In New York, night 3.

Nobody was expecting the show to be any different musically to the night before, except for when he changed the lyrics to 'Keep Driving'. At first the fans thought he was singing a different song, but afterwards, through re-watching videos, they came to learn the new lyrics he'd made.

"Cocain, Y/N's boob. I choke her, with a sea view."

When you had come to realise what he had sung you had gone red in the face.

"Harry!"

He knew he was in trouble just from the fact you used his full and proper name, rather than he loving nicknames you used for one another.

"In the kitchen, love." He answered back, swivelling on the barstool chair to face the door you would come through.

When he saw you, you were red in the face and were shaking your head with a sarcastic grin. Harry smiled as he watched you walk over to him, dressed in one of his tour jumpers and a pair of joggers.

You stopped in front of him and he immediately brought you closer, sliding his warm hands underneath the jumper and running them up and down your back.

"What's with the pout, hm?" He asked.

"You know." You challenged him, wanting to see whether he did or did not in fact know.

"If it's about the fact I bought you Galaxy instead of Cadbury's chocolate, again, i've already apologised five times." He groaned.

"It's not about that actually," You shook your head, "But you should know that no amount of apologies will fix that problem."

Harry smiled and shook his head at you. "Then what, baby?"

You turned your phone around and showed him a video of the previous night on stage, singing the new version of ‘Keep Driving’. He nodded his head along to the music and you noticed no sense of regret or guilt to what he had done.

You looked expectantly at him once you’d finished showing it to him.

“Well?” 

“Well what?”

“What the fuck was that? You basically outed the fact that I am a very kinky lady.”

Harry snorted a laugh. “Baby, you’re not a lady if you let me choke you.”

“So you both admit and are okay with how you sang that verse.”

“Uh everyone knew the song was about you anyways, love. It’s not that hard to figure it out, since I’ve only ever been in love with you.” He counter argued, making very good points.

“Well now they’re starting a fan project to sing that line instead of the original version.” You grumbled. “So they’re collectively singing about my boobs and you choking me.”

He didn’t day anything but just smiled.

You pushed away from him but he was quick to grab your hand and pull you even closer back to his chest.

“At the end of the day, I’m only choking you.” 

And at that, he had pretty much won the argument - later proving his last remark to you. 

Since that ‘Keep Driving’ impromptu lyric change, Harry has been clever in building them into the rest of the set. He doesn’t make the lyric changes every night on stage, even if the fans do sing the new version, but sometimes he’ll be spontaneous and create a new one. 

“If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you. Y/Ns the spoon, dip them in honey so I could be sticking to youu.”

There was even one show where he saw you standing with a tub of ice-cream and he came over to sing to you:

“Is that ice-cream edible, ‘Cause my stomach’s not that full. Can I have a little taste? Just a taste?” 

Before he leant down to taste the ice-cream and screamed ‘oh yeah’ afterwards whilst he continued to dance. 

Never was there quite someone who showed their love for their partner, the way that Harry did for you. 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #finelinevogue #harry blurb #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #nova my love #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles boyfriend #harry’s house #harrys house fic #finelinevogue blurbs #hho!universe #harrys house blurbs

[vqrtualheartss]

CCan you do one where miles find out reader is literally obsessed with art and has a room alone for her drawings and paintings one of them being him

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

9:12 pm This is my first request and I love you for it. Anyways, I'm trying to keep this one short and cute because I just realized I cannot make a story short for my life so yea lol.

The like, plot about the senior partner programme is taken from a book I read on wattpad called 'His Tesoro' by sjpwell and I heavily recommend you read it. heavily.

For fem readers, no specific race disclosed

Warnings — idk, bad grammar

In all honesty, deadass, I would've been asleep by now if not risking my hands to ink poisoning or that our teacher was picking the pairs for the annual senior partner programme. You'd basically share classes, be expected to hang out and by the end of the year write a report based on what you learnt about them. There wasn't anyone I was against being paired with but there wasn't anyone I was looking to either, all of them were the same people just different fonts, nothing interesting.

"And lastly we have Miss Valentine and Mr. Morales. Until your new schedules are emailed to you, you are expected to interchange the order of classes starting with the male's in the pair. Happy bonding"

Before I could get up, someone tilted down my phone screen, shifting my attention from it to them, the Mr. Morales— Miles. My nose slowly twitched, as I tried to fight the tug on my lips.

"Hi angel" I sighed, smiling at the nickname. Apparently my last name reminded him of Cupid and because Cupid's somewhat an angel, it makes me one

"Good morning Miles" pushing out my phone gesturing for him to hold it, I gathered my stuff preparing to head to his class. "Formal as always" he shook his head looking down at me with my bag on one shoulder, the other strap swaying freely. I shrugged at his comment, bringing out my hand to retrieve my phone, instead of handing it over, he held onto my hand, intertwining them as he examined the free-styled drawings.

"Talent much? Cool if you could put some on me?" He smiled widely, dangling my phone in his other hand as some type of persuasion. The smile grew evident in my voice, "Alright". I mean, why not, for his half of classes I didn't have to do anything in them so might as well.

"These dopee. Y'know low-key we should get matching ones sometime" . I smiled, "Maybe"

Annoyed at my frequent one word responses he turned around to face me as I slipped from underneath his arm " I hope you're not gonna be like this when I come by later."

Standing infront him with my mouth slightly agape, I questioned, my arms mirroring his crossed ones. "When you do what?"

"How else are we supposed to get to know eachother? And I'm guessing you're eager to kick me out and wrap this up" Narrowing my eyes, I pinched and rubbed my nose bridge.

There weren't many reasons why he couldn't stay over but they held alot of weight, one being my art room and two I'd probably make a fool of myself.

Looking up at him to protest, he swiftly transferred his initialized chain from his neck to mine before walking off and shouting, "Text me the directions and I'll be there" .

I dragged a hand down my face, I was going to send him them but that bitch.

knock knock, the door creaked open as a faint light faltered to the floor

"Miles? If that's you come in" "Woww, now imagine if I was a serial killer" Taking off his jacket, he continued "You would've been dead by now"

I shrugged , eyes never leaving the sketchbook propped on my right knee. He turned around, a dead expression on his face as he dragged the book from my lap "Nah, you gave your word" I most definitely did not

"Okay, fine, my attention's yours and yours only. Happy?" I gave him a tight-lipped smile as he sat on my bed, flipping through the pages "very" .

I remained a neutral expression as if my heart wasn't waiting to jump outside my chest.

Recently he's been the center of attention of my art and obviously I don't need him to see that. My heart rate calmed, his eyebrows furrowing, the pages seemingly went blank "I thought you drew more than this?" "I recently started that sketchbook,"

My expression softened, smiling internally as relief took over my body. However, my mind went as blank as the pages. Where the hell are those drawings then ?.

He hummed, moving from the bed to the office chair. He slid it over beside me before holding onto the chain with a finger of his, bringing me even closer to him.

"This makes it look like you belong to me in some way".

I copied his 'hm' in response despite my stomach flipping on end. He tugged on the chain releasing it. "I swear to god I'm going to make you talk. One way or another" leaning back into the chair manspreading, I smiled while maintaining a scowl. "Ew, you look like a man"

"Oh so now you speak?" He scoffed before continuing "Where's your bathroom" "Straight down, first door on your..." I paused a bit unsure of the direction to tell him ".. right, first door on your right"

He leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms "Don't know your directions by now?" "Get out"

Glancing at the time on my phone a few times, it took me a while to register that Miles was gone for more than 20 minutes "That's weird". Heading outside, I shuffled to the bathroom that he would've went to find it empty. I stood with my hands wrapped around my torso trying to figure his whereabouts. Shit. I went to the one place I hope he wasn't, my art room.

Approaching said room I saw the door slightly ajar, his shadow lingering on the walls. Without a plan I went inside, harshly biting down on my lip to brace myself for future embarrassment.

"You really weren't going to show me this?" I nervously laughed, eyes darting around the room inspecting for any sketches, drawings or paintings with him as the centerpiece. My eyes lingered on a drawing of Miles a little longer than I should've, he sent himself in the direction of my gaze. I shut my eyes, squeezing my fists tighter with each passing second. He took up the sketchbook situated on the desk, twirling through the recent pages before turning.

"Is this me?" His eyebrows drawing nearer as he grinned. I bit harder onto my lip before attempting to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation, even if it was just on my side. "No?"

"Looks an awful lot like me" Placing the book into its original position he folded his arms, sitting infront the desk

"I do not have the mental capacity for this" I sighed, shaking my head. A bead of blood formed on my lips.

Looking up and down my frustration filled body, he replied "Got me on your mind a lot, huh?" Laughing at his own teasing, I used the base off my hands to rub my eyes viciously, an honest attempt to push in my eyeballs.

Morphing into a ball of embarrassment, a smug expression splashed on his face. Hissing my teeth, the colours of his eyes went onyx as he stared. I returned his challenging gaze before he stood up, walking over and standing dangerously close.

Towering over my height, he smirked holding my chin between two fingers. What the fuckk. In that second I felt.. wierd, warm and fuzzy on the inside.

IDK HOW TO END THIS SO I DIDN'T.

©vqrtualheartss 2023 ©dae 2023

#soundcloud #black tumblr #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales #across the spiderverse #black reader #dae #vqrtualheartss #x you fluff #x y/n #x you #xyz #x reader #final fantasy xiv #oc x canon #oc artist #y/n #across the spider verse spoilers #across the universe #spider man: across the spider verse #artists on tumblr #writeblr #writing #black and white #fem y/n #nova

[veinsfullofstars]

⚔️ How ‘bout a li'l training montage? 🏹

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Shadow Kirby honing his battle skills with various different Copy Abilities, feat. Dark Meta Knight and Shadow Dedede. More detailed descriptions below the cut. END ID.)

Part 1 | Part 2 (here!)

So I keep thinking about how Shadow Kirby is confirmed in canon to be just as powerful and capable as regular Kirby, so long as he can push past his own reluctance and fears. Then I started thinking about the unique color palette he has for the Fighters games, if that could be a sort of visual indicator of him reaching that full potential. Then I started thinking about who was around to teach him these skills, and the differences in their techniques, and how SD’s treatment of SK might be vastly different from DMK, and how that affects the relationship that DMK & SD might have, and how it all ties in to the sociopolitical climate of the Mirror World as a whole, and oh stars dammit am I making another AU again???

On an unrelated note, screw the Mirror World for giving everyone in it just the most annoying color palettes to shade. Grays on grays on grays and sometimes red but mostly grays. I am languishing in render hell and ready to move on to the next one thank you. Too many headcanons - not enough time or hands or energy.

UPDATE 03/01/24: Changed SK's eyes to purple instead of blue, and changed DMK's cape from gray to dark red.

Started 11/7/23, finished 11/16/23. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 11/16/23.

---

Image descriptions

Top left: SK in Ninja gear, facing left, looking focused and holding out his katana, imitating DMK standing beside him in a similar pose with his own sword.

Top middle: SK in Archer gear, leaping up to fire an arrow from his bow.

Top right: SK in Bomb gear - also sporting his darker swirl coloration from Kirby Fighters - winking and sticking his tongue out as he tosses a bomb towards the viewer.

Middle: SK - in Wrestler gear with KF colors - delivering a strong leaping kick to a wooden training dummy, while DMK & SD observe in the background. SD stands with arms crossed and eyes narrowed, his mouth pulled into a sinister, calculating grin. DMK stands at his side, wrapped in his cape with eyes hidden in the shadows of his mask, a pensive ellipsis over his head.

Bottom left: SK facedown on the floor with a cross of bandages on his head, exhausted from training. DMK’s hand awkwardly comes in from off-screen, placing a bottle of Energy Drink beside him.

Bottom right: SK powering up into his KF form, fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a roar, an aura of purple-black flame flickering around him.)

#veins art #veins fanart #fanart #kirby series #kirby #shadow kirby #dark meta knight #shadow dedede #dark metadad #copy abilities #headcanon #AU #kintsugi au #<- (tentatively adding this tag here but not to the first part) #a baby black hole and his two garbage dads #(one more garbage-y than the other in my onion) #I like to think SK gets cheekier when he enters full go-mode #from nervous li'l marshmallow to a hyperball of mischief and chaos in an instant #tho he probably can't sustain it for very long and gets real eepy afterwards #he's not very good at pacing himself #(nor are his mentors good at knowing when he's at his limit - each for very different reasons) #(also veins honey please stop creating AUs when you have a billion unfinished ones already I swear to Nova-) #veinsfullofstars

[mysterystarz]

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 

This sucked ass. 

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 

You could almost call it picturesque. 

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 

His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 

What could be more human than that? 

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 

A grand gym and an even grander boy. 

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 

“We always love the extra coverage.” 

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 

“Not true.” He huffed. 

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 

“Y/N?�� A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 

You weren’t sure what to say. 

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 

“It’s been here…?” 

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 

“Mean. But seriously, why?” 

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 

The way he looked at you now was like worship. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 

The way he held you was reverent. 

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 

He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 

“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 

“With my sets, yes.” 

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.”��

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 

“When?” 

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 

“Shush.” 

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 

“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 

“I have my sources,” you winked. 

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 

“So you do know.” 

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 

“We don’t have to right now.” 

“Thanks Tooru.” 

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 

Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 

“Je suis fâché.” 

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 

“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 

“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 

You weren’t sure. 

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 

You snickered. “Not a chance.” 

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 

This was intriguing. 

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

#nova scribbles <3 #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru angst #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa headcanons #oikawa fic #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq x you #hq imagines #haikyuu #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou

[bedknees]

WHO? ARE?? THEY?????

#fionna and cake spoilers #fionna and cake #adventure time #atimers #IM FOAMING ATTHE MOUTH #simon petrikov #casper & nova #also who THE FUCK IS J E R R Y???? #how are this friendly ghost and new star connected to simons. fcukjnf. mind?????

[nobianna]

Wondering if you could do a fic with connie who is clingy and obsessed with the reader some fluff and smut if possible 😊

ofc i can bae!

pairings: domincan!connie x black fem!reader

cw: smut, fluff, cursing,pet names, squirting

Novas notes: not proofread, thanks for the request and keep em coming 😘, minors dni, support black blogs!

"connie if i have to tell you one more tim-"

" shhh" your boyfriend put his finger to your lips

you had some work to do and he had been touching up on you all from the time you woke up, to the time you sat down at your desk to attempt to finish your essay.

" i just wanna be your skin mami" he spoke again, he got on his knees under the desk just so he can wrap his arms around your belly.

you just sighed at the clingy acts of you're boyfriend, it wasn't anything new

he's been like this since forever.

"i know baby and you can be as soon as i finish this essay, yea?" you said rubbing his freshly dyed buzz cut.

" mhm mhm" he shook his head laying it againt your stomach again

" i can be with you while you finish this essay" his hands were rubbing up against your bare back, now under the over-sized shirt you wore you shivered from how cold his hands were"

"connie, baby the more you distract me, the longer its gonna take me to finish and then i cant give you all the attention you want."

"i don't careee" he looked up at you

"constance-" you tried to respond but he cut you off by lifting up your shirt and putting his head on your stomach.

" i just wanna touch you mami"

you sighed defeated knowing your boyfriend wasn't gonna let up what so ever and decide to finish typing your essay

or atleast attempt to.

you couldn't focus with the way connie was licking and sucking everywhere on your stomach no matter how hard you tried not to pay attention to him.

he was constantly removing one inch of your hard flesh with a pop and moving on the the next with a long lick across

and the way he was groaning against your skin while pulling you closer to him was really getting to your head, and your core.

"constance." you said as you stop typing to look down at your man that was still under your shirt

'' shit, you smell so good' he said with a small laugh before continuing to attack your stomach

"COnstance oh my god" you yelped trying to scold him but it turned out more needy than anything. when he bit the inside of your panty line

when he heard you get louder he quickly gripped your panties with his teeth and took his hands from around your waist to place them on the ends of your shirt.

he slowly took of your panties with his teeth to reveal the sticky arousal coating you're slit and the chair below you.

and you had utterly disregarded everything about that essay and you were no focused on the man whose head was in between your breathing against your throbbing clit.

he started by kissing on your thighs to right above your clit making you whine

"connie pleasee"

he lifted your shirt up

" you gotta show me where you want me to lick it mami, can you do that for me?" he said while inserting his long finger into you making you moan out.

" can you ma?"

" yessss... fuck yes!" you threw your head back from the immense amount of pleasure you got from his one finger alone

" yea ma show me where you want it" he said kissing at you're thighs before spitting on your clit ripping out another moan.

"mhm hmm" he mumbled incoherent words while slowly kissing down your thighs and lifting your leg onto your shoulder before he came up

" put me where you want me" he said sticking his tongue which gave you a good look at the little pink metal ball sitting right at the tip of his tounge.

you grabbed the back of his head and brought him straight to your dripping essence before putting his tongue right on your slit which made him lick a long stripe up.

you could feel that metal ball on your swollen clit and it made you moan from the friction your core ached for.

from there he took the lead inserting another finger into you and full on making out with your clit

he took his fingers out of your hole before sinking his tongue into it.

if he was gonna taste you he wanted all of you.

"ngugg fuckkk connie.. oh my goddd fuck!"

your hands still centered at the back of his hand pushing his head deeper into your pussy

his nose brushing right against your clit not even giving himself a chance to breathe, he hooked his arms onto your arms and pulled you closer to his face.

he just wanted to indulge in you, he loved everything about you and he seriously just wanted to be in your skin all hours of the day.

and they way he was moaning into your core while slobbering and suckering all on your clit was enough to make you let him.

"a-ah fuckkkk.... im gonna cummm"

he looked at you taking in your beautiful features looking all fucked out, mouth agape, eyes rolled, head thrown back, while you were gripping everything you could.

he put both of your legs around his neck so he could catch all the sweet juices that were getting ready to flow over all into his face and god knows he could wait

so he flicked the metal ball even faster against your clit waiting for his paradise to come flowing into his face.

and it did.

the way moaned his named as you came undone was so heavenly to him

" oh shit.. thats right mami put all that shit in my face"

he dove back into your core trying to catch all the juices making you scream from the over stimulation.

he was moaning against you until you pushed his shoulders, which made him come up with a laugh.

" look at this big ass mess you made baby" he said laughing, you looked up at him noticing how damn near his whole face was soaked including his sweats which you noticed the big bulge in, and the floor.

" damn i drowned you huh?" you responded laughing at how wet he was

he got up and picked you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

" yup" he said with a big grin on his face making you laugh, because he was genuinely so happy about getting soaked in your juices.

he tossed you on the bed

" now do it again but on my dick"

novas notes: did we like it? lmfoaoa , also i wrote this in one day which was surprising asfk

#nova writes #ask nobi #nova drabbles #aot fandom #onyankopon smut #armin arlet headcanons #black writers #black reader #connie springer #eren x black reader #eren jeager smut #connie smut #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie x reader #connie springer headcanons #connie spring aot

[novafire-is-thinking]

I never realized how strong Shockwave was 👁️👁️

Like-

#y e e t #idw transformers #maccadam #tf idw #idw1 #exrid #idw shockwave #idw megatron #nova reads exrid

[growup-thatbeautiful]

The Alcott

Tags: Jake Seresin x reader, getting back together, short fic, break up and make up, barely a plot tbh

Summary: On a rainy night in Austin, Jake reminds you why you fell in love with him all those years ago.

Warnings: cursing, mild kissing, a lot of prose, breakups, getting back together, jake being a little bit of an ass

A/n: eh, not super happy with it but i wanted it out of my drafts. happy reading to you and 999 followers to me!

——————————————————————————

give me some tips to forget you

“Come with me,” he asks. “Come to school with me.” You both know your answer before he even asks the question. He has his path- the Navy, and you have yours- a job waiting for you in New York. He’s proud of you for getting it, of course he is, but you can’t feel that pride now while he’s asking you to leave that behind for him. Maybe you could do it if you loved him a little bit less.

“Jakey,” you sigh, “Please, let’s not do it like this.”

“There’s no other way to do it,” Jake answers, his tone cool. It’s not the voice you like hearing, especially not aimed at you. You know that Jake can be a cruel, harsh person. He’s shown time and time again from girlfriend to girlfriend. “You’re leaving.” His voice shakes and your heart brakes.

“So are you,” you defend softly. “Come on, we don’t have to do it like this.”

“Maybe,” he says. And he walks away, his blond hair glinting in the moonlight. The confidence in his stride is marred only by a shakiness in his unshakable hands.

You don’t see him again for years.

~*~

i’ll ruin it for you

At some point, you forgive him. It comes naturally, and you don’t think you’ll ever be strong enough to hold it against him.

You went different ways. It happens, you know that now, but the way it happened left scars.

Partners go by, men and women who just aren’t Jake. You love them and they leave you or you leave them- it doesn’t matter, really. They never know you like he did.

You accept that he was your person, your one, and you lost that when you let him walk away.

Some people just don’t get a fairytale ending- or any part of a fairytale. You’re lucky enough to have had a brief view of it.

It’s not like you don’t think about him. Visions of little green-eyed kids running through a manicured lawn with Jake laying out in the sun creep into your mind at weaker moments.

And it hurts to think that it could be with somebody else. That he could be with someone else.

But you forgive him. And you try to move on.

~*~

i think i’m falling back in love with you

Rain falls down around you, blocking the stars from peeking through the clouds. The smell- earthy and sweet- fills the night air, despite the city’s atmosphere. The door to the bar protests its movement when you push it open with a long, drawn out squeal. The neon sign above the door flickers from years of use, the green neon “Alcott” sign long since past it’s prime.

The inside looks the same as it did when you were last here. The dark wood paneling that lines the walls is cracked and a little more faded than it used to be, and the lights are dimmer than you remembered, but the smell of cracked leather is the same. It reminds you of blue eyes and blond hair and a signature grin accented with a toothpick between his teeth.

After all the time away, it still feels like he should be here beside you, a hand planted on your lower back, warmth radiating from his body.

You gravitate towards a booth in the back where you used to spend countless nights, a cold glass sweating rings into the sticky wooden tabletop. The cracked leather of the booth is uncomfortable and vaguely tattered, but it feels like old memories.

From your bag, you pull out a faded yellow notebook and start writing anything that comes to mind. Memories fade with ideas, and your thoughts flow onto the page seamlessly.

This place will always, always remind you of him. It’s the most memorable of your old haunts, a place where you spent countless nights pretending to care less about each other than you really did. It was the place where you lost him and the place where you find him and the place where you fell in love with him.

You’re focused on your work when a figure approaches you and a familiar voice greets you. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” That voice, the one you’ve been thinking of, tears you from your writing.

There, standing broad and strong in front of you, is Jake. For a moment you simply stare, thinking it’s a trick of the light. But the gleam in his eyes and the shine of his hair can’t be your imagination.

“Jake?” you ask dumbly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m giving a speech at the graduation,” he says. “You still live here?” he asks, no judgement in his tone. “You were supposed to do big things in a bigger city.”

“Not everyone can be a naval officer,” you respond with a grin. “And you should know that college dreams don’t work out for everyone. They didn’t for us.” You can’t help but remind him of all the things that happened between you. All those days laying on grainy, Texas clay beaches during weekend trips, sun woven through his hair and his eyes that matches the blue-green water. The late nights cram sessions and coffee runs the morning afterwards, completely enamored by his hand in yours. Laying out on the grassy lawns of campus with a blanket underneath you, iced coffees shared between you, his ball cap backwards and his fingers skimming across the skin of your stomach. “And I don’t live here, I’m just visiting. My cousin is graduating.”

“Murphey?” he asks, light in his eyes. Him and Murph always got along, although they were a strange pairing. Murphey used to visit you some weekends when her parents were busy, and if she stayed with you, it was inevitable for her not to know Jake. “Is she that old now?”

“She’s 22 now. Graduating with an undergrad in nursing. Says she wants to help people,” you explain, pride evident in your voice.

“Fuck,” he says. “That’s unbelievable.”

“Time flies,” you offer. “It’s fucked up, but it happens. Doesn’t feel like it, though.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“How’s your mom?” Marie Seresin, when you knew her, was a force just like her son.

The smile that fills Jake’s face is soft and wide, a special one saved for his family. “She’s good. Stubborn as usual, but it’s okay what you’d expect.”

“That’s good. Grace still giving you trouble?” Jake’s sister is just as stubborn as his mother, and she has been a strong advocate for you when you and Jake split up.

“She’s been on my ass to settle down, but that’s what older sisters are for.”

“So I’ve heard. No lucky girl ever got you to buy a ring?” you ask, offering him the seat across from you. He slides into the booth and leans forward on his forearms, the sticky tabletop underneath him.

Jake’s grin doesn’t falter as he takes the question in his stride. “Nope. Many have tried, but to no avail. Deployment doesn’t make it easy.”

“Right,” you say.

“And you?” he asks, and you make yourself busy shoving your things into your bag. “Anyone settle you down?”

“No, I’m too romantic for that.” It’s meant to be a joke, but it falls flat between the two of you. Truthfully, you’re too much in your own head to start something new at this point. “I finally wrote that book, though.”

“Really?” he asks, and that old pride is in his eyes. “I thought you said you were never going to finish it.”

“Yeah, well a few years ago I got some inspiration.” It remains unspoken that the inspiration was him. “I sent you a copy.”

“I didn’t get it,” he says. “But I’ll look for it now.” From the old speakers, an old familiar song starts playing. It’s a country song, one you somehow never learned the name of, one that makes a smile grow on Jake’s face.

“Care to join me, darlin’?” Jake drawls, a smirk on his face as he offers his hand to you, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to dance.”

“How could I? You never let me sit down when we used to come here,” you respond, a grin finding its way to your face.

You fit with him like you never left. His hands on your hips, yours on his shoulders. He’s stronger now, broader too. But he smells the same, like lemongrass and linen.

The music is full of static and not quite loud enough, but you dance on nevertheless. Jake spins you away and pull you in effortlessly, sure of his moves while you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s been a long time since you’ve danced with someone like this.

“I haven’t been the same person since I met you,” Jake says breathlessly. It can’t be because of the dancing. “You’ve changed me, and you know how stubborn I am. That’s no small accomplishment, sweetheart.”

You interrupt and tell him that he doesn’t have to do this, doesn’t have to make you feel better. You’ve forgiven him, and there’s no need to bring up old wounds. Not when they’ve scarred so deep. “Jakey-“

“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “Let me do this. You deserve to hear it.” He waits for your slow nod before he continues, his hands at fists by his side. If he reached out to touch you right now, you couldn’t say no. “We should have fought harder for each other. I should have fought harder. You were- are- the best thing that’s happened to me, and I let you slip away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask. It feels like a cruel trick, him saying these things to you. They can’t be true, can’t make a difference.

“I read your book. I know I said that I didn’t, but I did. There was this line you wrote that said falling in love was the last thing they wanted, but they did it anyway. I don’t think we’ve ever had a say in our paths with each other, but there’s nothing that I’d rather do than fall in love with you again.” It comes out in a rush of words, messy and poetic at the same time. Somehow, it’s everything you want to hear and nothing you thought you’d ever have.

Your answer is uncoordinated and decidedly not romantic. “Are you joking?”

The hurt that passes his face is brief before he recovers. “Darlin’, I’m as serious as I can be. If you’ll have me, I’m here.”

For all your written words, you don’t have an answer for him.

So you do what you’ve wanted to do ever since he walked away that day. You pull him in close to you and kiss him. Electricity flies down your spine and you grab onto his shirt, trying desperately to keep him as near you as possible. Like he’ll fly away in a cloud of exhaust and unspoken words.

But he’s a man of his words, so he kisses you back, his hands cupping your face and roaming your body. He used to know every curve, but you’ll have to reacquaint him now. 10 years is a long time. Though it’s not long enough for you to have forgotten what this is like- being with him. It’s a glass of Whiskey, smooth and burning with just the right amount of heat. It’s fire and smoke and green grass and everything that’s right and good mixed with all things that burn.

“Baby,” he mutters against your lips. “I’ve fucking missed you.” Everything in you screams that you share the same thought.

“I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here.”

“Good, he says. “Because I’m not letting you go again. We’ve wasted too much goddamn time without each other.”

Part of you knows that this isn’t how things work. People don’t magically come back, and people don’t get swept off their feet in bars on a rainy day. But Jake’s always been a thunderstorm at the least possible time.

You can’t question it when it feels so perfect. Maybe you’ll wake up and realize that this is the aftermath of drinking too much alone or it’s a dream that you’ll turn into a story and sell it to all the other lonely people. You doubt that you’re imaginative enough to create the callouses on his hands or the rough scratch of his jeans. You’re definitely not romantic enough to write the way his lips feel against yours or the desperate edge to his kiss.

But for now you won’t try to wake up. You’re going to keep Jake for as long as you can, and if it hurts you again at some point then you’ll have to heal just like you did the first time.

All the pain in the world is worth it. Worth him. That you know for certain.

#jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #tgm #top gun #top gun maverick #nova writes #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman x you #jane hangman imagine #jake hangman fic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fanfic #hangman x reader #top gun hangman #hangman fic #hangman fanfiction

[sincerelyyoursg]

the golden hour - send me a character and scenario/au and I'll write a little drabble for you!

oooh, if you're feeling inspired could you write a little something where finnick odair and the reader are just sharing a fluffy moment, post-rebellion? tysm <33

hi nova! let's ignore how long you waited for this, okay? enjoy baby!

The air was salty, as the waves crashed into the rocks. You could see him standing in the water, his back covered in sun. Finnick could practically feel you looking at him, turning to you with a soft smile on his lips.

Hair messy, cheeks slightly red from the warmth, one might think he never sensed a day of pain in his life. Still, the scars on his chest told the different story. Few years ago you could've only dreamed of this for your next life, one where you might live normally. Did he even know? How much love you had for him, how much he meant to you.

"Darling?" his voice brought you back to the moment, as he got out of the water and sat next to you.

"I love you so much, Finnick. I wish I could show you." Your hand found his hair, messing it up just because.

"I know you do, love. Trust me." He turned to you, because maybe you didn't talk about it, but he knew. He knew what the Games did to you, how they changed you. So he tried his best, for you, for the both of you.

"Lay on your back, baby."

You laughed, "What? Why?"

"Because my girl deserves a massage."

It was a nice offer, really. You couldn't refuse it, so you didn't. You turned away from him, layed down and smiled waiting for him to start. His touches were soft, as if he was touching something that might break any minute.

"You're good at this, you know?"

Finnick's laugh, even after all these years, brought butterflies to your stomach, and you felt like world was made just for the two of you.

He didn't answer, but kept going. It was times like these, simple acts of love that kept you in love with him. He was better than you at showing his love, that was obvious. But what you didn't know, is how much he loved the simple things you did for him. Reminding him to drink water, or asking for his help when you wouldn't be able to reach something from the top shelf.

You got so relaxed you were almost startled when his lips met your back. Soft kisses he placed along your own scars, like a medicine of its own kind.

Tears were gathering in your eyes, so much love you couldn't keep it in. You laughed quietly, hoping he didn't notice.

"You're my favorite person in the whole world, Y/n."

And he was yours too. It just took time for you to show him that, but it was alright, because he already knew that.

I didn't know how to end this, I'm sorry :(

masterlist!

#gabi's letters! #moots <3 #nova 🎀 #gabi's 200 darlings! #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x reader #thg #finnick odair #finnick odair x oc