The Lucky One

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter nine; On My Way!

contents more angst but like in a sweet/comforting way? more brainrot lingo. motherless! tanaka & fatherless! reader. profanity. tanaka is bad at talking about his feelings.

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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

on your side / wolffe x fem!jedi!reader

for @ireadwithmyears <3

summary: having to distance yourself from wolffe after a slip up is a lot harder than you thought it would be

tags/warnings: 18+ for suggestive stuff, angst! with a happy(ish?) ending, forbidden relationship, love confessions, kinda idiots in love, wolffe is down bad and not sorry about it, reader is lowkey delirious and v emotional bc of lack of sleep, allusions to sex but otherwise sfw

song: on your side — the last dinner party

prompts: #21 "when's the last time you actually slept?", #9 "come lie with me, let me hold you."

a/n: okay it's official, wolffe is my fav clone to write for. um, idk if anyone else has ever been so exhausted but not able to fall asleep to the point where you’re literally distraught? I hope this is not a unique experience otherwise this fic makes no sense lol

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request period for this event is over, dialogue prompt is in bold :)

You messed up. Big time.

The memory of your misdeeds still replayed in your mind, days, weeks later. Your mind lingered on how his rough hands felt against your skin, how his breath mingled with yours, bodies melding together. His words haunted you, adulations whispered in a tone you’d never heard, sentiments you wouldn’t soon forget, no matter how you tried to.

Wolffe had invaded your brain even before you'd fallen into bed with him, but now it was inescapable.

You'd known it was a mistake as it was happening, that stepping over the line would do something irreversible, something you couldn't follow up on. The guilt of doing that to Wolffe, of letting him believe it was something that could be, was eating you alive. If you didn't feel so strongly for him then all of this would be so much easier, and could be written off as a simple blunder — but nothing about this was simple.

Wolffe had been shipped into an active warzone only hours later, and though worry pulled at your heart more than ever, you couldn't help but be partly relieved. When he’d returned, you felt even more conflicted.

He had caught your eyes from across the hangar, something distinctly timid and unlike him in the way he looked at you, and you had to tear your gaze away and leave the space. You couldn’t be anywhere near him. It hurt too much. You knew he’d noticed that you were avoiding him, it would be impossible given how close you were before everything had transpired, but he obviously had the restraint not to mention it.

Sleep was eluding you because of it. Pulling away from Wolffe felt like a physical pain, like the connection you had unwittingly created through the force was being sawed at, and you could feel every ridge of the knife as it cut. If anything, it was proof that you had become too close, that your connection ran too deep.

Now, duty demanded you be in the same room as him, and it was every bit as excruciating as you had expected. You were stood beside him in the command centre, and while your eyes were plastered to Plo Koon, all of your attention was taken by Wolffe.

You could feel the heavy weight of his gaze on you as you spoke, almost feel his breath against your cheek, the warmth of his body beside you. His presence was intoxicating, and even when you closed your eyes you weren’t free of it. His unique presence in the force reached out for you, and while you knew he wasn’t doing it intentionally, you wished he would stop. The familiar feeling made it so much harder not to fall into his arms and forget everything that held you back; a warm blanket, a comforting steadiness, deep red in colour, like the very last sight of the sun against the horizon.

You escaped as soon as you could, scampering from the command room at the first opportunity, but it seemed that Wolffe was done with the silent treatment. He grabbed your arm as you made it out into the corridor, dragging you into a quieter corner of the ship, a hall that ran to a dead end. His gaze was serious when you finally met it with your own, and it turned your stomach. You didn’t know if he was angry or hurt, nothing was given away in his demeanour.

Finally he spoke in a low voice, “are you alright?”

You blinked up at him, wondering how he could be so concerned by you at this moment. His hand still gripped your arm gently, his eyes darting between yours, brows furrowed. He took in your features like he’d never seen you before, and the scrutiny made your gaze drop.

“I’m fine” you murmured, trying to keep your voice even.

“You weren’t in your room last night”

Your eyes raised back to him as your heart skipped a beat, “how do you know that?”

“I went to see you” he confessed, never wavering in his serious gaze.

“Wolffe…” you sighed, looking up at him with a pained expression, “you shouldn’t have done that”

He huffed, stepping into your space, “why not?”

You exhaled slowly, “you know why”

Something in him stiffened, and he took his hand away from you, “what were you doing?”

“I just… I couldn’t sleep” you admitted, running a hand over your face.

“Why not?”

You sighed at his persistence, “it doesn’t matter”

“It matters to me” he muttered, his eyes flashing with hurt. He tentatively brought his hand up to your cheek, running his thumb under your eye. You knew you must look exhausted, and closed your eyes to let the feeling calm you. “When's the last time you actually slept?”

“I don’t know” you spoke quietly, almost ashamedly. Your eyes fluttered open to see the stern look he was giving you.

“Sarad’ika” he whispered the name he called you in only the most quiet of moments, drawing closer so his forehead almost touched yours. “If you won’t…” he sighed, “if you won’t let me take care of you then you need to take care of yourself”

Your heart seized up in your chest. “I—” you didn't know what to say, everything was running through your mind but it was all getting caught in your throat.

Your stuttering was interrupted by the sound footsteps reverberating off of the walls of the otherwise empty hall. Wolffe backed away from you, though he still started at you intently, even as someone walked between the two of you. Unlike him, it snapped you out of it.

“I— I uh… I'm going to my quarters now” you mumbled out, tongue tripping over your words.

You turned quickly, stalking down the hall in wide strides and not daring to look back.

It was the middle of the night and still, sleep wouldn’t take you. The frustration was getting on top of you again, and you paced back and forth in the small space of the ship that was yours. Hot tears sprang to your eyes, wetting your cheeks, and your hands gripped at your hair as if it would alleviate the tension in your head. You had been silently crying long enough that your head had begun to ache, and you silently begged to gods you didn’t believe in to let you sleep, to shut your mind of for just a few minutes so you might finally slip into unconsciousness.

It had been coming to this every night, where you felt as if you were being driven insane because sleep eluded you.

With a small sob, you darted for the door. A distraction, that’s what you needed now. You might wander the halls of the ship as you had in previous nights, or hole up in a cupboard somewhere so you could cry until all your tears were spent. You grabbed your robe as you went, clutching the thick material in a tight fist, but as the door zipped open you almost collided with something, someone.

Wolffe stood tall in the doorway, his hand raised as if he were about to knock. He took in your distressed state, eyes widening at the recognition of tears staining your face, and he reached out to you on instinct, taking ahold of your arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay” he immediately began to soothe you in a voice that was too soft for him. It only made your breathing more unstable, and you choked on your sobs. Wolffe backed you into the dark room and closed the door behind him, “what’s going on?”

The confusion — the worry — it was so plain in his eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach. You dropped your robe to the floor.

“I just—“ your words were halted by your own sob, and you hid your face in your palms, “I’m so tired, Wolffe”

His hands wrapped around your wrists, his skin warm against yours, and he peeled your hands away from your face. He snaked his arms around your waist without another word, offering the relief you would never ask for but so desperately needed. You took it unashamedly, burying your face in his chest, letting yourself relish in the comfort of his touch. As your weeping continued, he held you tightly, one hand on the back of your head to stroke your hair as he whispered comforting words.

The exhaustion had clearly got to you. There was simply no other reason for this display of raw emotion.

As your breathing calmed, the storm in your mind subsiding to a grey fog, Wolffe’s grip loosened. He pulled back and took your face in his hand, and you couldn’t help but lean into its warmth just a little.

“Now,” he spoke quietly, “are you going to tell me why you can’t sleep?”

You sighed deeply as you averted your gaze, “do I have to?”

“No” he replied, “but it could help”

Your eyes creeped across his handsome features, taking in every mark, every freckle. You couldn’t burden him with everything that clouded your mind, you wouldn’t place another weight upon his shoulders when the war already saw him stretched so thin.

You shook your head, releasing yourself from his grasp and turning away, “it won’t help, it’ll only make things worse”

“Stop shutting me out” Wolffe’s voice was stern as he spoke up, and you looked up to find his brow furrowed deeply, the hurt evident in his eyes and the downturn of his lips.

“I have to” you said quietly, almost a whisper.

“No you don’t” Wolffe huffed, moving to crowd you against the table behind you, “I don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this, why you won’t look at me all of a sudden. I thought—”

He stopped himself. In all honesty, you hadn’t been thinking an awful lot about what Wolffe may be thinking about what had transpired, and as much as you knew you should bury the whole incident, move on and forget, a part of you needed to know. What he thought, what he was thinking now, what he felt. You shouldn’t ask, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Thought what?”

You could see that he regretted letting the words slip. “I thought things would be…” he trailed off for a moment, searching your eyes with a hint of desperation, “I don’t know, I just thought it’d be different from this, after—“

His teeth ground together. A quiet curse escaped him as he hung his head in defeat. He knew as well as you that this conversation would only breed more unease. You swallowed, taking a moment to centre yourself.

“We can’t be like that” you muttered.

You knew it was cruel, that he didn’t deserve to hear it put so bluntly, nor did he deserve what had already happened. You had been cruel, consistently, in entertaining this idea of the two of you, and even crueller in making him believe it could be. That was why this was necessary. It couldn’t go on.

He was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke, it was uncharacteristically timid, his words almost shy.

“Would it be so bad?” he asked.

“Yes! Well, no it— but we can’t, I mean— I don’t know!” you could feel your breath becoming short again, and Wolffe placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, breathe” he spoke softly.

You didn’t deserve him, that was clear to you now. He was too gentle, too good to you when you didn’t deserve it. Your breath steadied under his touch, and you couldn’t face pushing him off this time.

“This is what’s got you worked up?” he asked, and you nodded in reply. His face softened, and he raised a hand to your cheek. “Ner cyare” he whispered, “please don’t trouble yourself over me”

“I can’t help it Wolffe, I—”

I love you

You could so easily say it, and you would mean it, but putting it out into the world would go beyond crossing the line.

“I’m sorry, that I’ve been pulling away, but I can’t— I can’t do this” you insisted, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, unable to name exactly what it was.

“Why not?”

It was a simple question, but the answer was far more complicated. Wolffe gave you nothing but patience as he waited for the reply. His gaze was soft, as soft as it got with him at least, though any amount of tenderness that could be drawn from the man would be considered a feat. It was part of the reason that you struggled to answer him. It was simply too distracting, witnessing the depth of his feelings for you first hand.

When the two of you had slipped up, spent the night with limbs entangled in the cot just a few short steps from you now, it had somehow not occurred to you that Wolffe was in just as deep as you. He had shown his admiration in more ways than one; whispers against your lips and skin, tender touches and a sense of care in every endeavour. In the throws of pleasure it hadn’t registered as anything but that — seeking pleasure.

Now you weren’t sure.

“Because…” you began, barely uttering the word.

There were reasonings you could use, but none would present themselves as you looked into his eyes and were confronted with the depth of your own feelings.

“Because…?” he prompted, and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Because nothing” you frowned, “because I’m a fool, and because you don’t deserve the only kind of relationship I could give you”

Wolffe matched your frown, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it Wolffe, I’m… I’m a Jedi, right? You know what that means?”

He pressed his lips to a hard line, unimpressed at the reminder “I know what it means”

You exhaled shakily, and a sadness washed over you, “I couldn’t… I could only be yours in private, I wouldn’t be able to touch you in front of others, to hold your hand or even smile at you for too long. I wouldn’t be able to show the galaxy how much I love you, and that hurts me”

A second passed, and you realised what had been said.

It was as if an airlock had been opened, and all the air sucked from the room. The both of you stood perfectly still, staring at each other with widened eyes. You had crossed the line. It was all hypothetical up until now. But now, it was real. Neither of you moved, or breathed, until Wolffe let a quick and heavy exhale slip, as if in disbelief.

“Love?”

You swallowed thickly.

“I—“ you bit the inside of your cheek as your cheeks burned hot, “I didn’t mean to… tell you like this”

“Is it true?” he asked, deadly serious. His eyes searched yours, for what you didn’t know, but you knew the answer was already obvious in the way you dropped your gaze guiltily, as if the very act of falling in love were wrong.

“Yes” the whisper had barely left you when Wolffe surged forwards and met your lips with his.

He was warm, inviting, eager. He kissed you like a man starved, as if he’d been waiting a lifetime for this moment, and you let yourself give in. You kissed him back more insistently, and let his tongue pass the seam of your lips as he begged for entrance. His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him tightly, as if he was scared you might slip from beneath his fingertips. This feeling was becoming too known to you, too comfortable. It felt too right.

He pulled away, placing his forehead on yours with intention, “I love you, ner sarad’ika”

Your breath was knocked from you upon hearing the words, and you couldn’t help the way your mouth stretched into a tentative grin. You advanced forwards and pressed a more chaste kiss to his lips, and felt him smile back against you. Something about it set your heart fluttering more than anything before. Wolffe still held you, a hand flat against your back to keep you close, where the other held your jaw.

He ran his thumb over your bottom lip as he regarded you, speaking softly, “you have such a pretty smile”

A heat crept up your neck even now, after everything that had happened. Though soon, it began to transform in its meaning. Your smile faded, tears collecting in your waterline once more, and the heat burned at your collar uncomfortably. You didn’t cry as you had before, but the tears fell freely all the same.

Wolffe sighed, wiping them away with a disapproving shake of his head, “I said not to trouble yourself over me”

Your lips twisted with doubt, “you deserve so much more than this, Wolffe”

“It’s not about what I deserve” he reasoned, “it’s what I want”

“But I can’t give you anything”

“I don’t need anything”

You deflated with a huff, “it’s a lot more complicated than you’re making it out to be”

“I disagree” he mused, pressing a kiss to each cheek to collect the remnants of your tears, “I love you, and for maker knows why, you love me. I think that is all that’s important”

You pressed your lips together to stop them from shaking as you felt yourself welling up again, but Wolffe was all too quick to swoop in.

“We’ll figure it out” he promised, “together”

Looking up at him through teary eyes, you found your lips twitching upwards, “together”

The word was a comfort. Neither of you would have to navigate the struggle in isolation, you would support each other.

Wolffe nodded against you, and took your hands in his. You only realised now how they were shaking, and he pressed his forehead into yours with more purpose, peering deeply into your eyes as if he were looking upon your very soul.

“Come lie with me, let me hold you”

Your brow pinched, and you nodded your head in reply. He tugged you over to your cot gently and laid you down in the soft sheets, then stripped himself of his armour to lay beside you.

No more words were exchanged that night, for everything had already been said. His body was warm against yours, and though it didn’t magically lull you to sleep immediately, it was an undeniable comfort. Wolffe fell into unconsciousness before you did, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. Watching him rest calmed your mind. It gave you faith that any hardship the two of you faced going forward would be worth it. He was worth it.

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LOVE THIS SM BOO!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

press start! — all to action (21/22)

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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venus ; chapter four ; reserved

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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.

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press start! — bonus #2

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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a/n: ahhh icb press start is already over 🤧 thank you all to everyone who read this series and to everyone who took time to send such sweet messages 🫶

a/n 2: also yes this is 100% self indulgent for my love for kuroo tetsurou

8 with Luca!

8) oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

“Luca, we can’t hide in here forever.”

The older man was pressed up behind you, the small broom closet in his house not giving much space for either of you to move.

“Yeah, but Street said he’d be home soon, and I wanna prank him back.” He spoke quietly into your ear. You shivered as his warm breath tickled your skin, and you shifted slightly to relieve the ache between your legs.

There was always tension between you and Luca the whole time you’d know each other. Neither of you were brave enough to act on it. So being stuck in this confined space, nose full of his scent, his cologne, was driving you mad.

You felt his body tense as you moved, practically heard him swallow as he placed a hand on your hip, holding gentle. “Don’t- Try not to wiggle so much.”

You bit your lip and tried not to smile, a rush of bravery (maybe stupidity) and lust giving you the courage and slowly grind back into him, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt the bulge against your ass. A pretty damn big bulge.

Luca moaned faintly in your ear, both hands now holding your lips as he pulled back on you, grinding into you in turn and cursing. “Fuck it.” He rasped and spun you around, body pinning you against the door as his lips found yours.

You turned in the confined space and clung to him, kissing back in an almost viscous manner and whimpering as his leg slid between yours, your hips grinding on his thigh with a whine.

It wasn’t long his pants were undone, your leggings pulled down to your thighs, and he had you turned back around against the wall. His cock stretched and filled you to the brim, and the muffled moans and cries filled his house.

Your cheek was pressed to the cool surface as you both came with a drawn out moan, and the sound of footsteps coming through the front door made you both pause.

“Fuck..” he whispered in a shaky sigh, slipping out of you and helping you with your pants before buttoning his own, Street opening the closet with a concerned, confused glance at the both of you.

“Oh, gross, guys.”

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter two; GOATED

content ; smau. profanity. ooc! characters. kuroo being called a predator AS A JOKE. reader & tanaka bonding over getting bad grades and being grounded often.

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press start! — together (22/22)

By the time you’d gotten down to the storage room, Yachi was already standing outside, a bag of pinnies hoisted over her shoulder. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw you, letting one hand go to wave at you.

“Hi Y/N!” she said with a wide smile. You smiled as you approached, reaching out toward the girl. 

“Do you need help with those?” you asked, offering a hand. Yachi leaned back slightly, shaking her head. 

“I’m alright!” She motioned toward the storage room. “There’s one more bag in the storage room though– it’s on the top shelf. Do you mind grabbing it?” 

“Of course.” 

You stepped past her, making your way toward the entrance to the storage room. However, once you stepped in, you were immediately faced with the sight of a tall figure hunched over in front of you, pinnies strewn across the floor as he picked them up. You froze, immediately recognizing the figure despite the fact that they were faced away from you.

“Tsukishima?” you asked, causing the boy to stand up straight. He turned, eyes widening slightly when he saw you standing there.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” His features were dimly illuminated by the light above, barely enough to make out the fact that he was squinting at you.

“I was just helping Yachi grab the pinnies,” you answered slowly. “What were you–” 

You were cut off by the loud creak of the metal door behind you, followed by a loud bang as it was slammed shut.

Tsukishima frowned. “What the–” 

You reached for the door handle, rattling it a couple times being hit with the realization that it was locked. You pushed your body against the door, holding onto the handle that refused to budge.

“Hello?” you called, banging on the door with your fist. “Is anyone out there?” 

“Sorry, Y/N. We had to do it.” Lev’s muffled voice sounded from the other side of the door. 

You banged on the door once more. “Lev? What’s going on? Open the door!”

“Have fun in there,” another voice, which you recognized as Hinata’s, chimed in. This caused Tsukishima to approach you, hitting his own fist against the metal. 

“Let us out of here you dumbass!”

Next came Inuoka’s voice. “Not until you guys admit you like each other!” 

“Sorry, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi called.

The two of you continued hitting your fists against the door, streams of pleas (and obscenities, courtesy of Tsukishima) escaping you. After a couple minutes of this, your energy eventually drained, leaving you to lean against the door. Tsukishima walked away, the size of the storage room only allowing him to move a couple steps. 

“Why the hell would those idiots lock us in here?” he said with a huff, shaking his head. 

You let out a sigh, slowly sinking to the ground with your back against the door.

“Someone will probably notice we’re gone and come looking for us,” you offered, though your voice was laced with an uncertainty that made Tsukishima scoff.  

A silence fell upon the two of you as the realization sunk in that you were trapped. Inuoka’s words echoed through your head, embedding themselves at the forefront of your mind.

Not until you guys admit you like each other!

You glanced toward the boy, who had also gotten tired of standing and resorted to taking a seat against the stack of gym mats. He stared into space with a distant expression, his eyebrows tilted downward slightly. Slowly, a frown made its way onto your face as you studied his features in an attempt to figure out what he was thinking. 

“That game you were talking about before.” Tsukishima’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. You glanced over at the boy, though his eyes remained elsewhere. “Stardew Valley? What is it?” 

Your mouth twitched. “It’s a farm life simulation. You basically own a farm and have to take care of it, but you also get to talk to the people in the town and do quests and other things.” 

The boy gave a short nod. “Is it fun?” 

“Yeah, I think it is,” you answered. “There’s a ton of creatures and magic you have to deal with when you get deeper into the game, and you even get to pick one of the townspeople to date and get married to.” 

“Ah, so is that who Sam is?” he asked. You giggled, nodding. 

“I’ve gone through the game a couple times, but he’s always my top pick when it comes to the romance plot.” Tsukishima nodded again, continuing to stare off into the distance. Curiously, you tilted your head at the boy. “Why do you ask?” 

He gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. I just– I feel like I don’t know much about you.” Tsukishima paused for a moment, though when you didn’t respond, he went on. “I mean, I didn’t even know you had a brother until a couple days ago.”

The memory caused warmth to bubble in your chest as you laughed. “I think it’s funny that you didn’t know my last name, otherwise you would’ve known that Kenma and I are siblings.” 

Tsukishima could only grimace, clearly remembering the unfortunate events he’d gone through.

“I’m sorry for that. I honestly shouldn’t have assumed.” 

You shook your head. “It’s alright. How could you have known?” 

“I could have asked you,” he pointed out. “Instead I just assumed and made decisions based on my incorrect information.”

“Really, Tsukishima. It’s ok,” you said with a small smile. “Do you have any siblings?” He nodded. 

“An older brother. He’s in college right now.” 

“Did he play volleyball too?” 

This made Tsukishima pause, something clouding his expression for one moment that suddenly made you regret asking. You were about to backtrack when a second later, Tsukishima let out a soft chuckle and nodded.

“He still does. Just for fun, though.” You sighed in relief as the boy spoke up once more. “Why the sudden question about my family?” 

“I think… I’m in the same boat as you.” Your answer came after a few seconds. “I mean like, I don’t really know much about you either. We’ve been talking for how long and I still don’t know your name.” 

The confession caused Tsukishima to let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking as he glanced over at you.

“It’s Kei.” 

“Kei.” The name rolled off your tongue with a warm familiarity despite it being the first time you’d ever uttered it. “That’s a nice name. What does it mean?” 

“Firefly,” he answered. “It’s kind of a bother though. I always have to explain to people how to pronounce it.” 

“I think it suits you,” you said without thinking. When Tsukishima raised his eyebrows, you simply shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… does.” 

You shivered, hugging your arms as a chill coursed its way through your body. Tsukishima immediately noticed, looking at you in confusion before glancing up. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Come sit over here,” he said, eyes pointed up at the ceiling. “You’re sitting right under the vent.” 

You tilted your head back, only then noticing the air vent above you that was blasting cold air right onto your body. Looking back toward the boy, you watched as he shifted slightly to make room against the pile of mats for you to sit. Without hesitation, you stood up and made your way over, taking your seat beside him. 

“Is there anything else you want to know?” Tsukishima asked, gaze remaining forward. “You know, since we’re playing 20 questions.” 

You stared down at your hands, running your thumb over every knuckle. As the silence grew between you two, you found yourself paying attention to every little sound in the room. The air blowing in through the vent, the faint buzz of the light, Tsukishima’s near silent breaths coupled with your own. However, none of it could distract from the sound of the one burning question replaying in your mind like a broken record. 

“When you found out Kenma and I were siblings,” you began, carefully choosing each word that left your mouth. “The first thing you asked was if I had a boyfriend. Why is that?” 

You could tell the question caught Tsukishima off-guard, feeling him physically tense up beside you. For a moment, you regretted bringing it up, but the curiosity burned into you like the warmest day in summer.

It was as though a year had passed as you waited for his response, every second an hour. The softest sigh escaped Tsukishima’s lips, and you would’ve missed it had you not been sitting right beside him.

“I’m not good at this,” he said. “Talking about my feelings and stuff. Honestly, I still don’t understand it all.” You furrowed your eyebrows, though remained quiet to allow him to speak. “I’ve been less focused lately, and it felt like there was always something nagging at me, but I could never tell what. I only knew that whatever I was feeling would go away when I talked to you.” 

You looked over at him with wide eyes, though he didn’t meet your gaze.

“That’s why I looked forward to when we would talk every night. Even when it was hard for me to figure out how to explain things, it was nice not having to worry about anything but what we were going over. But the more we talked, the worse it would get when you hung up.” 

“Tsukishima…”

“So when I found out that you didn’t have a boyfriend, a huge part of me was so relieved because every day that I distanced myself from you, the more intense the feeling became. You just have this…effect, wherever you go. Whenever I talk to you, I don’t have to worry about my matches, or school, or anything else. I can just enjoy the time we spend…” Together.

The last word hung unspoken, though its weight still held firm. 

Together. Physically, you were. You were sitting side-by-side on the floor together. You were trapped in the storage room together. You were talking together. All these things the two of you were doing together, yet…

“You know, for someone who’s not good at talking about his feelings, I’d say you articulated them pretty well.” Despite the teasing nature of your words, your voice was completely serious. “I think how you explained your feelings was better than I ever could.” 

Tsukishima slowly turned his head, his gaze burning into yours.

“Try,” was the only word he uttered, watching you intently. 

You nodded, taking in a deep breath. 

“You’ve definitely seen it by now, but I’m not the most organized person. There’s always like, a million things going through my brain, and a reason why I’ve always liked video games is because it gives me one thing to focus on.” A small chuckle escaped your lips. “But whenever I’d talk to you, it’s like you kept me grounded. Even when I was freaking out about my exams or worried about homework, you managed to keep me sane. You’re a lot kinder than you give yourself credit for.” 

This caused Tsukishima to raise an eyebrow at you, though you just smiled. 

“You’re really blunt sometimes, but it's comforting to know that when you’re giving encouragement, it means you truly believe in it. I feel like honesty is the kindest thing you can give someone. It’s just one of many things that I like about you.” 

The last sentence slipped from your mouth without even thinking about it, causing you to freeze. You immediately looked away as heat rose to your face, covering your hands with your face. 

“Just one? What are the other things?” Tsukishima asked, a slight tease in his tone. Without looking at him, you shoved the boy as hard as you could. 

“Oh my god, I’m leaving,” you said, pushing yourself to your feet. Before you could walk away, however, you felt the gentle tug of Tsukishima’s hand on your wrist, holding you back.

“We’re locked in here, remember?”

“Then I’m going to go sit back over there.” 

“Under the vent?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Y/N.” Without letting go of your hand, Tsukishima slowly brought himself to his feet. He said your name once more, his voice soft as he carefully pulled at your arm to get you to face him. Still, you refused to meet his gaze, your eyes glued to the floor despite his close proximity. “Did you mean it?” 

“Mean what?” you mumbled, causing Tsukishima’s face to twist. 

“When you said you liked a lot of things about me,” he said. Your eyes glanced down to your wrist, Tsukishima’s hand still carefully wrapped around it. 

You nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath. 

“It’s you. I like you.” 

You closed your eyes, awaiting the rejection that you’d feared for so long. 

Yet it never came. 

Tsukishima’s hand let go of your wrist, and your heart temporarily dropped, only for it to swell as he laced his fingers with yours.

“So this is what it feels like,” he murmured. Your breath hitched as he squeezed your hand. “to like someone.” 

“You…like me?” you asked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. 

Using his other hand, Tsukishima gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. His gaze was soft, a warm fondness sweeping throughout your entire body as a subtle smile spread across his face. 

“I do,” he confessed. “I like you so much I think my heart’s about to burst.” 

As though your body moved on instinct, you reached for the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward as you pressed your lips against his. Tsukishima let out the smallest gasp, though his initial surprise was immediately forgotten as he melted into your touch. Your heart swelled, warmth bubbling up in your chest even as the two of you let go. 

You stared at each other with wide eyes, only a couple seconds passing before you burst out into a fit of giggles. Tsukishima smiled, his fingers still interlocked with yours as he wrapped one arm around your body. You grinned, letting go of Tsukishima’s hand only to finally wrap your arms around his, holding him tightly. 

-

“You guys are running suicides when we’re back in Miyagi,” Ennoshita scolded, shaking his head as he walked with the rest of the 2nd-years. “And you, Yachi. I expected this from the others, but not from you.”

“Don’t blame Yachi for this! We roped her into it! It’s not her fault,” Inuoka said, flinching when Yamamoto elbowed him. 

“How do you just casually forget that you locked two people in the storage room together?” he questioned. 

“That’s what you’re most concerned about? Not the fact that they locked two people in the storage room, but that they forgot?” Kenma asked, receiving a glare from his fellow third-year.

“Shut up, Kenma.” 

Ennoshita rolled his eyes as they arrived at the storage room, pointing toward the 2nd-years, some of whom wore expressions akin to a hurt puppy, while the rest looked completely unbothered. 

Shibayama walked forward, unlocking the door to the storage room before pushing it open. However, upon entering, he froze at the sight inside.

“What? What’s wrong?” Hinata asked, jumping forward and poking his head inside.

Huddled in the corner against the pile of mats was you and Tsukishima. Your body rested on his chest, his arms wrapped around yours, both of you fast asleep. 

A wide grin spread across Hinata’s face as he turned back to the other 2nd-years. 

“They’re asleep,” he said, stepping back as the others moved to see for themselves. 

“We did it!” Inuoka exclaimed, giving Hinata a high-five. 

“Aww, they’re so cute!” Yachi said, smiling. 

“Wait, let me take a picture.” 

“He’s going to hate you forever.” 

“I don’t care. It’s funny.” 

“Alright!” Ennoshita said, causing everyone to turn to him. “You kids get out of here and stop harassing them.” 

The 2nd-years all glanced at each other, then toward their seniors. After receiving multiple pointed looks, they nodded in disappointment before walking off together, their chatter continuing to echo through the hall.

“What are you doing, Noya?” Tanaka asked as Nishinoya stepped into the storage room, a mischievous grin on his face as he pulled out his phone. 

“I’m saving it for their wedding day,” he replied, taking a couple photos before turning back to the others. “Should we wake them up?”

“Yeah, probably,” Fukunaga said. “Or we could just let them sleep.” 

“We’re not leaving them in a storage room,” Yamamoto argued. “It’s musty in here.” 

 “I almost feel bad waking them up,” Ennoshita said, voice trailing off. “I’ve never seen Tsukishima look so…comfortable.” 

“I don’t.” Without another word, Kenma walked up to the two of you. The others watched as he pulled out his phone, scrolling for a couple seconds before lowering it down right in front of your face. He pressed a button and music began blasting through the speakers at full volume. The two of you jolted awake, disorientation evident in your expression as you lifted your head. 

“What the f-”

“Good morning, lovebirds,” Yamamoto said as he walked forward. He reached down, grabbing you by your hands before pulling you to your feet. “We will talk about this later, young lady. For now, you’re supposed to be on lunch duty with Yachi.” 

Before you could protest, Yamamoto was pulling you toward the exit. You glanced over your shoulder toward Tsukishima, who held a subtle smirk on his face as he watched. You smiled back, holding eye contact for a moment longer before inevitably being dragged out by your upperclassman. 

Tsukishima looked up at Kenma, who stared down at him with narrowed eyes and an expression stained with slight disgust. 

“I know I don’t have to say it, but treat her well, ok?” 

Tsukishima blinked up at the older boy, taking a moment to register his words before he nodded, a slight warmth creeping up his neck. 

“I will. I promise.” 

Kenma held his narrow gaze for just a moment longer before giving a slow nod. He extended his arm out toward the younger boy, which Tsukishima took after a moment of hesitation, allowing Kenma to help him up. 

“Let’s get back to the games.”

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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Kyle, that evil fucker, mirrors every reaction you make.

He's got your knees pushed back as far as they'll go, and as that gasp slips out of you, he's right there, copying it. He slides into you slow, whining just like you do, a smug chuckle slipping out while he presses his forehead to yours.

"Ah, ah-" His voice matches yours, mocking, his mouth twisting into a grin.

When you turn your head away, embarrassed, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his intense, brown eyes. He loves when you pout, his brow furrowing, mimicking your frustration with cruel precision.

"What's wrong? Want me to stop?" That grin stretches wide across his face when you shake your head desperately.

"No, no, no-" he mocks, voice high-pitched, laughing at the way you crumble under him.

But the second you clamp down on him in that way, he's all nods and hums, pleased, grinding into you until your legs shake. Then he's back at it, slamming into you again, panting just like you, throwing a mean laugh when you curse at him.

"Fuck me? Yeah, fuck me?" His voice is biting, playful, right before he sinks his teeth into your neck and pounds harder into the spot that makes everything go white.

He only gets serious when you're teetering on the edge. You're breathless, pleading, telling him exactly what you need, and he's listening, nodding like he's taking orders.

"Right here? Like that? C'mon, use your words."

And when you finally tip over, he's right there with you, pulling back just enough to mirror your face. Brows furrowed, jaw slack, breathless. Not to tease, but because the pleasure's consuming him too. Maybe even more.

//shout-out to @kyletogaz for the whole kyle mimicking thing that I haven't been able to get out of my head//