★ Sakusa Kiyoomi Is Probably The Most Organized Person You've Ever Met. So Clean, So Tidy.

The Red Dress

Summary: They may have your attention, but it's his fingers inside you under the table.

Pairing: Fives x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, fingering, public sex, exhibitionism, drinking, alcohol, Fives being cocky, confession of feelings, just a little jealousy

A/N: I've never written for Fives before so please bear with me. Welcoming myself back from my break with a bang, pun intended. I am also utilizing medic!reader once more just because I can.

MASTERLIST

The first time he sees you in that dress, he knows he’s screwed.  

He has Kix to thank for everything. He had been the one to convince you to come out with them in the first place. You, the 501st’s new medic, who had quickly won the hearts of the entire legion with your gentle touches and soft reassurances. You who asked their names and remembered them. You with that infectious smile, and the soft laugh that rang out at even the lamest jokes. 

They had all mutually agreed they would start a war for you. 

Fives was no less enamored with you than his brothers. You laughed at his jokes, and got shy when he lightly teased and flirted. He had once asked you to kiss his freshly bandaged wound, entirely joking, but he’ll never forget how you raised his arm to press a soft kiss to the bandage. 

His stomach still flips thinking about it. 

He hadn’t been expecting you to join them on shore leave. They were headed to 79s as usual, waiting on a few stragglers, including Kix. He hadn’t been expecting you to be following the medic down the ramp, but as soon as he sees you, he forgets all his impatience. 

His eyes widen, jaw going slack as you slowly make your way down the ramp. The others notice, turning to see just what’s caught his attention.

The dress is a little satin number that hugs every curve and slope of your body perfectly. The thin straps and sloping neckline reveal more skin than he’s ever seen before, the hem falling halfway down your thighs. 

It’s also red. 

A deep, sinful red that Fives already knows is going to draw the gaze of everyone in the bar. His hands tighten into fists, his pants tightening just a bit as well. 

“I didn’t think you’d mind if I invited our favorite medic along.” Kix says, drawing his attention, and everyone else’s. 

“No.” Hardcase says, the vision of you in the dress having silenced even him. “Not at all.” 

Fives resists the urge to punch Hardcase as he slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the transport. 

This is going to be a long night. 

***

Fives had been right in his prediction that you would gain the attention of the entire bar. He was quick to notice just how much you shied from the attention, but he knew he and his brothers were not going to share. 

They squish you into the center of the booth, silently glaring away any trooper, shiny or not, that even glances your way. You seem happily unaware of it as you sit between Jesse and Tup. They’re laying it on thick, Jesse’s arm stretched across the back of the booth behind you. 

Fives’ hand tightens around his glass as Jesse leans in, saying something quietly to you. You get that bashful look on your face again, fingers trailing through the condensation on your glass. You’ve barely finished one glass of the cheap beer the bar provided to the clones. 

Fives gets his moment when Tup excuses himself from the table for a bathroom break and Jesse is sent to the bar for the next round. He quickly shuffles into the booth next to you, so close you’re almost touching. You turn to look at him, eyes shining in the dim light above the table. 

“You alright?” He asks, leaning in a bit so you can hear him over the music. “Are they making you uncomfortable?” 

You shake your head. “No, they’re sweet, I’ve just...had my gaze on someone else for a while.” 

He tilts his head as he stares down at you. “Anyone I know?” 

“Well, he’s a clone.” You say, giving him a cute little smile. 

“Right. That narrows it down.” Fives nods. 

“He’s an ARC trooper.” You continue. 

“Narrows it down more.” Fives says, leaning his arm on the table so he can lean in closer. 

“He’s funny and smart and one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” You stare up into his eyes, searching for something. “He has the sweetest brown eyes, and a cute little wrinkle between his brows when he frowns.” Your gaze drops to his lips. “He has a goatee, and a tattoo, and quite the unique nickname.” 

Fives smirks, slipping his arm across the back of the booth behind you. His fingers trail along the bare skin of your shoulders, just as soft as he imagined. He leans in closer, watching the goosebumps form on your skin as he leans into your ear. You smell good, the best thing he’s ever smelled. His nose presses into your hair, smelling your sweet scent as his lips brush your ear. 

“I need to hear you say it.” He whispers, fingers tracing patterns across the back of your neck and shoulders. 

You turn your head just slightly, hand dropping to his thigh. “You.” You say it just audible above the thump of the music playing. “It’s you.” 

Fives smirks, pulling back a bit as Jesse returns to the table. Despite the goosebumps on your skin, it’s warm to the touch, Fives brushing your cheek gently as he pulls his arm away. He’s pressed right up against you, his hand slipping under the table to rest against your knee. 

“Tell me to stop.” He says quietly, Jesse taking his spot next to you once more. 

You give him a look that speaks a thousand words, a look he didn’t think you were capable of. He’s glad the table hides everything as his pants suddenly get very tight. You turn your attention to Jesse as he starts speaking to you, Fives getting a refill on his glass and yours as Rex passes around the new pitcher. 

His hand slowly begins to slip higher up your leg, fingers tracing the soft skin. Your legs widen just slightly for his hand, speaking volumes as you continue to entertain Jesse’s story. 

He bites back a groan as he finds the damp fabric between your legs. It’s a bit much to call them underwear, a lacy little number he wants to slip into a pocket later. He rubs you over your panties, your hips shifting just slightly. You disguise it as you reach for your glass, taking another sip of beer. 

He watches the way your hand tightens just slightly around the glass as he pushes the fabric to the side, trailing his fingers along your pussy. He joins in on the conversation as he sinks a finger into your tight heat, your hips shifting just slightly again to give him room. 

You’re good at hiding it, moving subtly with the conversation as he and Jesse go back and forth. If Jesse looked down, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out where his hand is, but thankfully he’s just a little too drunk to be aware of his surroundings. 

You clench tightly around his finger as the rest of the table joins into the conversation, recounting a story of some mission they’d gone on months ago, before you’d joined them. He can see your skin starting to get dewy with sweat, your breath picking up just slightly. You’re soaking his hand, a second finger slipping in easily. 

He watches the column of your throat as you swallow another mouthful of beer, halfway through the glass already. Maker, he wishes he could remove his codpiece, pull you into his lap and make you sit on his cock. What he wouldn’t give to ease you under the table, have those sinful lips wrapped around him. Kriff, he’s one squeeze away from laying you out on the table and fucking you in front of his brothers and the entire bar. 

He curls his fingers inside you, your lips parting as you squeeze around him, your legs shaking under the table. You set your glass back on the table just a little too hard, gaining the attention of the others. 

“You alright, mesh’la?” Hardcase frowns at you in concern. 

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Yeah.” Your voice is breathy, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of your face. “Just starting to feel it a bit.” 

“I didn’t peg you as a lightweight.” Tup says, having returned to the table at some point. 

You shrug, playing off the way your thighs squeeze around his hand. “Never really been much of a drinker before.” 

“Well, we’re just out here corrupting you, aren’t we?” Kix smirks, his voice deep from the alcohol. 

You’re close, your thighs squeezing around his hand as you press your hips against him. “That’s one way of putting it.” You laugh breathlessly. 

Fives curls his fingers again, your face leaning in close to his ear. You let out a quiet little whimper that nearly has him cumming in his pants. Your breath fans against his skin, his hand slipping from your underwear. Oh how he’d love to taste you on his skin. 

“Fresher.” You breathe, already sliding away from him. “Two minutes.” 

He watches you slip out of the booth, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches the others eyes follow your form until you disappear into the crowd.

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @annoyinglylegendarygoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

♡ soap's little plan ♡

abo!141 x omega!reader

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: despite having a pack of his own, soap finds himself wanting more. he's grown tired of being the only Omega with 2 unruly Alphas. good thing you showed up, now he can flush those pesky little suppressants and make you theirs.

⚠︎ suggestive themes, soap being a little obsessed, invasions of privacy

a/n: series??? idk where this came from but enjoy

Soap wasn’t an unhappy man. He was talented, knew just how dangerous he was in the field, how many brushes with death he’d skillfully skirted with a big “fuck you” and a bloody smile. He had the respect of his peers and fear of the new recruits. Most importantly, he had a pack he loved. Never went to bed wanting or alone. His inner Omega should be satisfied, all things considering, and yet, he still yearns. 

He feels guilty sometimes. When he’s laid out on one of his mate’s beds, sweaty and thrumming with release. He rolls over, pressing wet kisses to damp skin and trying to focus on fingers that ghost over his head. Tries to push out the gnawing subconscious thought of more. He wants to scoff at himself. 3 mates and somehow he still couldn’t help but be greedy. 

It’s like Price says in the field (and in the bedroom, funnily enough): “You're a goddamn restless dog ain’t ‘ya? Restless and a dog, indeed. 

His words run through Soap’s mind as he stares at you. His dirty little one-sided secret. He’s watched you for months. Smelled you immediately when his eyes first landed on you, an unforgettable mix of vanilla licorice, fruit, and a tang of something earthy, like grass or rain. So unbelievably feminine and soft, he was intoxicated. Couldn’t help but watch as you walked down the hall. You had glanced at him, eyebrows furrowing slightly; he remembered the chill that ran through him when you locked eyes. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

He had immediately sweet talked the Beta receptionist into handing over your file. He had tucked it under his arm and taken it to his room, locking the door and glancing around like he was a teen with a raunchy magazine. Read it front to back. You were smart, specialized in cybersecurity before you joined the military. Now you drifted from team to team, going where you were needed. Helping run covert hops here, a little hacking there. He felt a grin take over his face when he saw that in your last assignment, you acted as a demolition expert. An impressive resume, he faintly wondered why you hadn’t been pinned down by a team yet. Clearly, you were an asset. 

He got to your current contract papers, seeing you were brought on to be a floater. You’d help with missions in the unit how they saw fit. He could only pray that he’d be working with you eventually. He closes the file, thumbing the small file photo of you. You were beautiful no doubt, not smiling but still holding a hint of softness. 

He pauses when he realizes he didn’t see a presentation in your file. He flips through the pages again, skimming through your medical report. The boxes next to ‘Omega’, ‘Alpha’, and ‘Beta’ are all unmarked. It clicks then, your sweet smell and the lack of presentation in your files. You were an Omega. 

Soap wasn’t really supposed to be where he was as an Omega. While there were no rules against it, there were hardly any Omegas here for a reason. It was hard, both physically and mentally. Soap had taken twice the recommended amount of suppressants and nearly went broke buying scent blockers. Put his body through hell and back to prove he was worthy. It was only when he became Lieutenant and had the protection of a pack that he felt comfortable enough to stop hiding his presentation . By then, no one could really say anything about it. 

His heart raced. You were an Omega. He had no proof other than being one himself, but he was almost sure of it. It did nothing to curb his growing curiosity. 

He should have pushed you out of his mind, but he’s Soap. He’s insistent and can be downright stubborn when it comes down to it. It was just his nature. He formulated a whole plan, get close to you, slowly ease you into meeting his pack, then make you theirs. Plain and simple. 

It was not plain and simple. 

First of all, the guilt started eating at him. He had everything he’d ever hoped for, a family, a successful career, and here he was. The worst part is that Soap couldn’t help it, he loved his mates, their masculine presence and smell that filled a room. But he secretly can’t help but wish there was another Omega around, someone who could help him ground his Alphas. Gaz did a great job, but he was a beta, and Soap often received the brunt end of Ghost and Prices’ more baser instincts. Not just an Omega, but a woman. Someone with that femininity and power that balances and soothes an entire pack into submission. 

Second of all, you didn’t want to give him the time of day. 

The first time he approaches you is in the dining hall, your face stoic and focused as you grab an apple and place it on your tray. He takes a few breaths, your muted and yet somehow still overwhelming scent filling his senses. 

“New around here bonnie?” He finally gets the courage up to speak.  “Names Johnny, but people call me Soap.” He reaches a hand out. 

You take it hesitantly, and he revels in the softness. He tries not to get distracted by the way his hand almost completely covers your own. 

“Y/n.” you respond curtly, releasing his hand and grabbing your tray.  “Transferred a week ago.” You don’t wait for his response, making your way over to one of the many tables littered with people chatting. Soap hastily grabs a banana and his tray, taking long strides to catch up with you. 

“So uh, how you likin’ it so far?” He flinches at his own stutter. God, he’s out of practice. 

You give him a pointed look. 

“S’fine.” You sit, hastily picking up your spoon and taking a bite of oatmeal. It doesn’t deter Soap. 

He spends the next 30 minutes talking your ear off, receiving the occasional nod or “mhm” from you. You give up very little about yourself, answering shortly and precisely. It drives him mad. 

You cut off his rant on the latest recruits, standing abruptly. “It was nice talking with you Lieutenant MacTavish, but I have to get going.” 

He watches as you leave, stunned and frankly a little turned on at how easily you brushed him off. Soap was a sucker for a chase. 

He faintly realizes that you knew his rank and last name, and has a feeling that you’re a careful and intelligent woman. It only fuels his growing suspicion of your presentation. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Soap keeps trying after that, despite the gnawing feeling of guilt and greediness. The less you give him, the more enraptured he becomes. With every eye roll and silent stretch you give him, he falls deeper and deeper into the need to make you his. 

It only takes a couple months for it all to come to a head. Soap finds you in a hallway late at night, most people tucked away in their quarters. Your scent is slightly off, soured and citrusy. He loves it. 

“Where are you stormin’ off to?” 

You don’t answer, which is not unusual, but the way you push past him without so much of a glance, is. “Aye, c’mon love, what’s got you so worked up?” 

You turn on your heel, almost crashing into Soap. You didn’t hate him, sometimes you even welcomed the company, even though his jokes were shit. Not that you’d let him know you even remotely liked his presence. You stare him down for a second, teeth gritted. 

You had just overheard some particularly nasty and sexist comments about you, not the first time- hell not even the fiftieth time. But it never stung less, that people refused to see your experience and rank simply because you had the misfortune of being born a woman. You regret the words almost as soon as you say them. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, MacTavish. I’m not interested in your company, and I sure as shit didn’t ask for it. Go bother your pack, and leave me alone.” You spit the word at him, and you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s a reflection of your own loneliness deep down. You can’t stand the shock on his face, so you turn around and sulk to the kitchen to find a sweet treat to placate you. 

Soap watches as you leave, and he’s hurt. How can you not see how perfect you’d be for the pack? Granted, he’s the only one that knows, he still has no idea how to broach the topic with his pack. Would they hate him? Call him selfish, wonder why they weren’t enough for him? His fists clench at his sides as your scent completely fades. 

Then it clicks. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He smiles to himself, no longer upset at your blatant rejection. He almost skips back to his room. 

He has it all figured out. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The next morning he flirts with some nurses, brings them donuts from the place off base. While they’re all distracted and giggling amongst each other, he quietly slips into the record room and grabs your files. His heart beats out of his chest at the little checkmark next to “Omega”. 

He knew it. He flips through the files quickly, finding a detailed page tracking your heat cycles. You haven’t had a heat in years, seeing a note that says you denied a doctor's request to go into heat at least once every 3 years. He knew that pain, he couldn’t imagine you putting yourself through that. You shouldn't be putting yourself through that. He’ll make sure that you don’t have to anymore. 

He flips a few more pages, going back to when you did have your heats. He finds an entry that notes that you had unusually long and painful heats, along with a prescription of sedatives. The next line states that you usually have them every 3 months, February, May, August and sometimes December. He hears his heartbeat in his ears when he realizes his luck of it being the beginning of December. It was meant to be. 

He closes the file quietly, closing his eyes in relief. You’d be his, and his pack’s, soon. 

That night, while you’re showering in the gym, Soap is breaking into your room. It doesn’t take much effort, he’s in within minutes, stepping into your sacred space. There’s a half assed nest in the corner of your room, your instincts must be strong if you’re still nesting while taking suppressants. He wants to go over and fluff it for you, add his scent covered shirt to the pitiful pile. He shakes his head. He needs to focus on why he’s here. 

He rifles through your cabinets, desperately searching. He knows you like long showers, but he’s still on edge. If he gets caught, it’s all over. He tries to be quick without disturbing the placement of your items, but he begins to panic when he can’t find those familiar little pills. He rushes to your bed, looking underneath. He’s about to lose hope when he moves from underneath your bed, cursing when he knocks his head on the frame. 

He almost doesn’t hear it. The soft thud of something falling. He looks back under the bed, eyes falling on a tiny box meant for jewelry. He grabs it, slowly opening it and removing the piece of foam on top. 

Bingo. 

He stares at the tiny pills, the familiar pale blue a contrast against the black of the box. He spills a few in his hand. There were enough for months. You were like he was, handing your health over in exchange for surviving here. His fist closes over pills as he makes his way out of your room. He locks your door behind him, trying not to run to his room. When he makes it there, he’s buzzing with excitement. He goes to his bathroom, opening the toilet lid and fishing the box from his pocket. He doesn’t hesitate in throwing them all into the bowl, and watching as the water swirls when he flushes. The water settles, and your pills are gone. 

Omega’s are the most sensitive of the three presentations. Senses more in tune than even the best Alpha. It was in their very biology to be strong in ways Alpha’s were not, to hold a pack together. Your biology would work quickly, work through the artificial hormones you’d been poisoning yourself with in haste. It happened to him, after so long of suppressing his Omega, it came back with a vengeance. You would be no different. 

And with Price’s rut- and Ghost’s, coming up soon, they won’t stand a chance against the strong smell of an Omega in heat. He’ll make sure that they find you, that they take care of you. 

It was all part of his plan, after all.

venus; chapter ten; take you home

masterlist

taglist

eventually they'd gotten to the club, after pregaming with oikawa, waiting in the long line, and then finally getting in. yn immediately basically ran to the bar, pulling kiyoko with her, leaving akaashi and oikawa to fend for themselves.

she had ordered herself a dirty martini and a round of shots for her and kiyoko. the boys had eventually made their way over to the two of them and they had also ordered shots to go along with yn and kiyoko's. they all took shots and then after a little bit kinda dispersed. yn stayed at the bar, ordering drink after drink. "someones feeling a bit down." a voice sounded to her right, she turned her head, the man next to her wasnt ugly thats for sure, but she just shook off those thoughts, what would atsumu think? wait we arent even together anymore, she thought, "yeah a little." she just laughed it off slightly, "you here alone?" "no, my friends are around here somewhere, my one friend is a bit of a party animal so hes off on the dance floor somewhere." the man just nodded and hummed. "how 'bout i buy you a drink?" a conflict in her mind happened. should i let him buy me a drink? i mean its just a drink right? she nodded her head, humming, as the man asked the bartender to make her whatever she was having. she and the man chatted for a little while until-

"yn? what are you doing here?" a familiar voice sounded. her head basically cracked over her shoulder, seeing her ex-boyfriend. "what do you mean what am i doing here? its a public club." she retorted back, getting out of her seat, the man she was talking to just watching this go down. "yeah but this is my club." "the sign doesnt say club atsumu, but good try!" he just snickered, "you should be at home, taking care of your bird or whatever." "for one dont tell me what i should be doing, and for two we let the bird go like forever ago. i can be wherever i want to be." "and i guess with whoever too? who is this guy anyway." atsumu walked up to the man who yn was chatting with. "just a guy i met, he actually took the time to ask about my day, unlike someone i know." "oh is that so?" yn just nodded.

"hey if you like taking other guys girls so bad you should probably go find someone else because i'll bash your teeth in." "atsumu miya, we arent even together anymore!" she exclaimed. "hey, i dont want any trouble dude. i just saw a pretty girl being sad and wanted to brighten her mood." "i cant believe you're already getting around, we just broke up, god your a slu-"

slap

her whole world turned white for a second. "what the fuck was that for?!" "you dont talk to me that way, who the fuck do you think you are?" she spat. "oh so you can go around talking to guys while you have a boyfriend-" "we're over atsumu! how many times do i have to say it! you literally acknowledged it yourself! and dont go around pretending that you didnt fuck other girls while we were together you asshole! you dont own me anymore, i can talk to whoever i like and i can flirt with whoever i like, not like that ever stopped you." atsumu just stood there. dumbfounded. red handprint stinging his cheek. he couldnt come up with a comeback. a thousand thoughts running through his head but also none at all. he just shook his head and walked away.

"fuck." she whispered to herself as she turned around, putting her head down in her arms on the bar. "i, uh, think im gonna go." the man yn was talking to earlier said "yeah that seems like a good idea." another male voice boomed. she looked up after the other guy walked away. sakusa. what was he doing here? well i mean, she knew what he was doing here. but why was he next to her right now? "do you want me to take you home?" was all he said as they stared at each other. she just sighed and nodded.

note: heyo, sorry for the delay, ik i keep saying im gonna update but 95% of the time im lying and im just too lazy to write 😛

taglist: @evilari111 @laceythespacey @sophiahearttss @scoupsworld @pelicanpizza @vi0let-writes @surfeitstar @sugacor3 @ncitygreen @snoowply @matt444nixi @0rangej0e @softtashoney @bub-ss @meoqs @swagkittybear @yessimo @hihi5649 @jiminscarmex @tyrantsmonarchy @sunarinnnnnnn @megumuro @localgaytrainwreck @nobodybutnnoorr @lorisheaven @madi-8097 @amayaa-aaa @meekydeeks @rrayras @supahumbreon @corvid007 @sexylexy12 (if ur name is bolded and italicized i cannot tag you please change your settings)

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮♡♥♡

Kageyama Tobio X Reader SMAU fic

✎ ..0.5 ROSE

↳ where feelings blossom (again)

m.list. previous. next.

Kageyama's heart threatened to beat right out of his chest.

Not only had he just suffered the worst loss to date, a match against Aoba Johsai he swore to himself he'd win, but y/n was there to witness the whole thing.

She had watched his past self rise and fall, she was here, he wanted so badly to show her and his old teammates how far he's come. He wanted to show everyone that he wasn't "the king of the court" anymore, he was so much more than that now. He wanted to win.

This loss meant everything, his world felt as though it crumbled when the ball hit the floor for the last time on his side of the court. When the whistle blew and his old teammates cheered.

Minutes ago his loss consumed him, now there he stood peering down at his hands, in them he held a singular rose.

The rose was a deep red color, it had blossomed beautifully. To him this rose meant much more than his loss. This rose was a symbol of being seen by the one he wanted to be seen by all those years ago.

Her words lingered in his mind, "I can tell how far you've come, Tobio." his chest tightened.

The smile she presented to him when she held the rose out to him wasn't one of pity, instead it was sunny. and true. It was something that made his own self pity wash away like rain down a drain after a storm.

Y/n was Kageyama's crush in middle school although he doesn't like to think of it that way its very much true. He admired her ability to get along, her kindness and reassurance it was like her own talent.

Kageyama Tobio is aware of what an asshole he was in middle school, he knows how he'd lash out at others and push them away, yet it was like y/n found a way to be there no matter what.

She'd wash his towels and fill his bottles even when he yelled, she'd leave notes saying good luck in his bag the night before a game even when he refused to take advice from anyone.

Those notes were what kept him going aside from his burning passion.

When they both graduated from middle school he accepted that nothing would happen especially because everyone hated him. Why would she want anything to do with him?

He tried not to think of it and for a while it worked. He forgot about her and again his world was consumed by volleyball.

Until he saw her face in the crowd again.

Now there he was fighting back the blush that crept to his cheeks. Y/n had given him a rose.

"KAGEYAMAAA!! WERE GETTING ON THE BUS! HURRY UP!!"

taglist: @loveyislost @frootloopscos @state-of-grac3

venus ; chapter four ; reserved

masterlist

taglist

she walked into the gym, shoes squeaking as the jackels and alders warm up, the fluorescent lights burning her eyes, she hasnt been in this gym for months. she walked up the stairs to the bleachers, looking for her reserved seat as atsumu had called her the day before and told her that there would be one for her and what seat it would be. the seats were filled, she was thinking of how lucky she was that there was a reserved seat.. almost. she got to the row and counted down the seats, there was a girl sitting in her seat. her eyebrows furrowed, walking over to the seat. "hey, im sorry i think you're sitting in my seat, its reserved." the girl looked up, smacking her gum, "um, yeah it was reserved but the cute setter said i could sit here!" yns eye sqinted. "um what?" she asked, "i think i said it pretty clearly but good try! or did my words not pierce through that big head of yours?" she said all with a smile on her face. "no you said it pretty clearly, i say what because the setter down there is my boyfriend, and the seat you're sitting in is the one he reserved for me." her arms crossing and the fake smile on her face dropping. "yeah sure whatever you say maam! can you move out of my way now im trying to watch!" "the game hasnt even started yet!" yn exclaimed before walking off. she took back down the stairs and exited the building. of course atsumu would do some shit like this. why wouldnt he? she decided to not report back to the group chat for this one, it just gives the three of them more reason to hate atsumu. and she did not want another scolding.

she sat cross-legged in atsumu's apartment. just waiting. what she was going to do when he got there, she didnt know. probably yell, a lot, and he would yell back. its an endless cycle. she knew it. she just couldnt quit him. locks jiggled before the door opened. chants from bokuto was heard "HOO HOO HOO WHAT THE HELL IS AN AL-" stopping dead in his tracks, "what is it bo?" hinata peeked over bokuto's shoulder, making eye contact with yn. "oooooo your in troubleeee" is all that was heard from hinata before him and bokuto scurried off to their rooms. sakusa also followed after the two boys, leading atsumu into the apartment. "hey, i was looking for you after!" "oh you were looking for me after? i assume in the seat that you 'reserved' for me." she airquoted the word reserved. "yeah! and some other girl was in the seat." "no shit sherlock! because you told her to sit there! you're memory cannot be that short term!" yn stood up, getting in atsumu's face. "ohhhhh yeah i did do that." she just stood there starstruck, jaw dropped "i, i cant do this right now." she walked away, and out of the house. tears welling in her eyes, and falling all before she walked out the door frame.

taglist: @bub-ss @deadfish714 @snoowply @yessimo @matt444nixi @ncitygreen @laceythespacey @lorisheaven @sugacor3 @localgaytrainwreck @nobodybutnnoorr @scoupsworld @meoqs @pelicanpizza @vi0let-writes @supahumbreon

SWEET DREAM

< osamu miya x reader >

Summary: Being a manager for the Inazarki volleyball club wasn't easy, especially dealing with their chaos. They had made great friends because of it and had caught some attention as well, especially from Miya Osamu. For him, having a crush on the manager isn't ideal but it wasn't anything that he can control. The worst thing about it, watching your crush already be in a relationship with your teammate.

Genre: friends to lovers, angst, drama, fluff

Warnings: Swearing, yelling, teasing, suggestive themes.

Tags: open

[orange text - y/n's pov] [blue text - osamu's pov]

CHAPTER EIGHT

<chapter seven || materlist || chapter nine>

▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

< taglist > @sproutytoad @grimespial @saturns-satellites

lt simon riley x hybrid!reader in which you're forced into his life and he cant handle it, ignoring your existence until you talk to inanimate objects to make up for it. angst ofc

sorry if this is lowkey bad, my writing has been flopping rn (inspired by a mdni’s work summary, i have removed the link because i am unsure as to how to address this properly.)

edit: i am aware that the og had more than a few similarities to the op who i credited’s work. I have responded here

The news of a hybrid being assigned to him was the worst possible, maybe even comparable to the time he had to wear full gear in the middle east. There was just something about it he didnt like, not that he wanted to stereotype their kind but some could be so clingy, so needy and to think he’s have that, following him around? . But what he hates more is the way you’re sitting outside his flat door when he hears the knock, wide eyes trying to entice him to your outstretched hand. Though unfortunately for you, he just closes the door again.

For the first week, you tried over and over again. He didn't seem to want to talk to you at all, let alone acknowledge that you were in his house. The only instructions he ever spoke was to not leave the house nor damage anything inside the house. It wasn't like you’d attempt to test either rules on purpose anyway. Instead, you tried to be useful by cleaning up where you could, even if you couldn't help but get distracted by how fun sliding across the freshly mopped floors were. Plus, blanket forts were so fun to make, what do you mean they made more mess? You switched to cooking soon after, attempting to make him breakfast except every time you tried to wake up early, he was always already gone. So, you wake up extra, extra early, finding out he wakes at five and so you wake up at four the next day. You decide on sizzled meat rashers, a fried egg and a toaster waffle because you don't really understand how the oven works. It’s not your fault his has so many funny buttons.

Unfortunately for you, his hearing is almost as good as yours, or perhaps he just never sleeps properly. That’s why he walked in just when you were nodding off in a bowl of cracked eggs, the time too early for a young one like you, even if you were well into your twenties. He left the house with a slam that day.

After that you stopped trying, noticing it to be clearly obvious that he didn't want anything to do with you in the slightest. He didn't even glance at you, or ask if you wanted to eat anymore. The only reminder that you actually lived here were the remnants of your fur on the fluffy pillow that was your bed, and your name written on your pre-bought meals since he didn't trust you in his kitchen anymore. Questions were left to hang in the air, soft whines echoing around the empty room each night and only the dim TV for company.

Ghost had returned early today, a problem in base had left the place in slight disarray and the task force thought it’d be better if they just packed up for the day, maybe do paperwork at home instead. He clicks open the door, surprised to actually hear noise in the usually silent flat, though he’s already dreading whatever mess you’ve cooked up. As he enters the hallway, the noise becomes clearer, sounding like a voice, your voice, actually. “This is a super secret covert meeting, alright everyone? No one can know!” You squeak, and he’s raising a brow, mind already jumping to conclusions of you being a double agent sent to spy on him. He should’ve known they’d pull a dirty trick like that, especially with how Graves has been acting, there’s bound to be others to follow. But to infiltrate his own home is something that brings him great anger, making him all the more silent when he sneaks around the house, mind running through potential ways he’ll interrogate the information out of you.

A double agent was far too much credit for you though. You were just a silly animal who was sitting on the sofa opposite a tatty teddy bear, a pillow with a messily drawn paper face stuck to it and a t-shirt that you had draped over a pillow, the cartoon cat staring back at you. They have mugs in front of them, albeit not full of anything apart from your own mug of tea. “Just kidding, let’s order then we can start.”

You hum, pretending to take a list from the bear though it’s actually those takeaway menus that come through the letterbox. He watches carefully as you pick up one at random, eyes squinting as you attempt and almost fail to read the text. Facilities never bothered with educating their hybrids, only intent in teaching them the arts of being loyal and desirable so they’d get their pay.

“Men….u? St.. art…eer?” It’s near impossible to understand any of it, and eventually you have to put it down, huffing out a complaint. “Okay fine, i can't read at all.” Frustrated, you pull off the t-shirt, leaving the pillow to fall on the floor. You’ve watched countless videos, only with the help of the voice recognition function on the remote control, and have attempted daily for this whole week. “So what have you guys done this week?”

He notices now that you have the tv displaying an episode from those random TV series, you probably don't even know the name of it. You’re almost attempting to recreate the same scene of the friends sitting around the table, eyes flickering at the TV as you eye how they sit. You mimic a squeaky voice, holding the teddy bear by the scruff as you move its head around. “I went to the park with my handler.”

Somehow your eyes light up despite the fact you had made that up yourself, clapping your hands together. “Wow, I love the park! I wish I could chase the squirrels…” Your expression falters for a second, eyes drooped until you shake your head, moving to puppet the pillow in the middle instead. “I went to the movies with mine, and then we got icecream.”

You smile again, retracting your hand and placing it on your hips. “Damn, icecream too! ..Um.. It doesn’t matter what I did. We should do something together, but it has to be something easy.. and not too fun because if we leave a mess Simon will be mad.” He almost feels bad, but it’s not his fault, you will make a mess, and he’s already tired enough as it is. What he hadn't expected was what you’d say next.

“I don't think we’ll be able to do these meetups anymore guys.” You mumble out, frown growing on your lips as you puppeteer the bear. “What, why?”

“I-i think I’ll be getting kicked out soon. Or maybe I should just run away.. Should I? I mean, it’s not a totally bad idea and Simon won't have to deal with me!”

You stare back at the two fake people in front of you, the silence hanging heavy in the air until you reach forward, plucking the paper smiley face off the pillow and sticking on a sad face instead. “I know, I know— running away is bad and I'll only get hurt. What else then?”

The silence is long again and for once Simon can feel the distraught look on your face as you clench the hem of your loose sweater, nose wrinkled. It’s clear you’re not feeling too good, especially if you’ve resorted to talking to your own stuffed animals about running away to make him happier. It’s a pitiful sight to say the least but he can't blame you either, he’s purposefully ignored every single one of your feeble attempts to talk to him. It’s not like it helps that you’ve been cooped in a house for two weeks straight, not able to talk to anyone else. Now that he’s forced to notice, forced to think about it, it’s clear he’s torturing you, in some sick unintentional way. You’re locked away, a prisoner, a ghost— someone no one even knows exists despite how much you cry and beg for a sound to be made.

The small shuffle of your steps is sad, the way you put everything into position perfectly in case he gets annoyed, not that he’d ever express it anyway– sometimes you wish he just would say something, anything. But he doesn't, and you take the tatty teddy bear, hugging it to your chest. Not even your tail can bring you much warmth, the matted fur rough against your skin as you’ve failed to upkeep it’s maintenance the more miserable you grow.

You wont stay here for long, you’ll be moved elsewhere and grow older, less ‘desirable’ as you lose all your hybrid fluffiness until you’re finally left on the streets, scavenging bins for food like your parents did. A cycle that only repeats for you.

—————-

part 2 (coming soon, ask to be tagged)

other hybrid drabble i did

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter three; crazy crazy.

content ; smau. profanity. reader being a LIGHT stalker. dirty jokes. school rivalry coming into play. kenma & hinata friendship mentioned. ennoshita struggling with history class.

< previous ; masterlist ; next >

taglist ; @sahrii @kameyyy @cherrysurf @standcom @44twentytwo @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mayyhaps @mimi3lover @evilari111 @s6rine @taefanclub @3stela @heartmaddie @suvakrpa @autlantic @jayathelostdragon @sickpatientt @strawbbrysworld @le000xxgrd @gumims

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter six; no faith.

contents smau. profanity. abortion joke… brainrot lingo. tweets. death jokes. FLIRTY! TANAKA.

< previous ; masterlist ; next >

taglist ; @sahrii @kameyyy @cherrysurf @standcom @44twentytwo @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mayyhaps @mimi3lover @evilari111 @s6rine @taefanclub @3stela @heartmaddie @suvakrpa @autlantic @jayathelostdragon @sickpatientt @strawbbrysworld @le000xxgrd @gumims @4crewz @frootloopscos @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @literallyushiwaka @asteraslvrr @ursafehaven @charlotterosea13 @xjustxlookingx

Wolffe: Look who it is, the Holobuddies. Cody: What? Wolffe, pointing at Rex: Stinky Twinkie. Wolffe, pointing at Bly: Ditzy. Wolffe, pointing at Cody: Their mama. Wolffe, pointing at Fox: Ho. Rex: Did you just call me a smelly twink? Bly: ...Why am I ditzy? Cody: Their mama? Really? Fox: ...I'll allow it.