#alpha atsumu

[sugurouge]

— sting: alpha!miya atsumu x omega!f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, taboo topics, non-canon, (pseudo-)incest, stepcest, omegaverse, heavy topics of jealousy, possessiveness, dubcon marking, begging, very submissive reader, cheating, breeding kink, dubcon knotting, obsession, some blood

summary: in a society divided by secondary genders, a young girl is adopted into the prestigious miya family, defying conventions due to her undeniable charm & precious nature. as you grow up, your bond with atsumu shifts, leading to a complex mix of emotions & forbidden desires

wordcount: 4.6k

fyi: atsumu & reader were pretty much attracted to another since her secondary gender was revealed. reader is one year younger than the twins

a/n: for @goxjo's omegaverse collab! make sure to check out the other works if you've enjoyed my lil story. pspsps thank you for letting me join, aki my luv (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.

In a society where the hierarchies of alphas, betas, and omegas define social standing and family legacy, adoption is a rarity. Families fiercely guard their bloodlines, refusing to weaken their position with the introduction of an outsider. Yet, in the case of the Miya family, exceptions were made when they saw you. Abandoning a helpless young girl you was never an for your future mother. You were too precious to be left behind.

From the moment your adoptive parents met you, it felt like a blessing. Your sparkling eyes and adorable smile captivated them in an instant. You, in all your little glory, were a true delight.

Neither you nor your new family can recall a time before you became part of their lives. The notion of your adoption was never mentioned, for it didn't matter. To you, they were simply your family, your pack. The protective embrace of the Miya family, renowned alphas, became your sanctuary. Under their care, the eventual reveal of your secondary gender was irrelevant. What mattered was the bond, the love, and the undeniable connection that tied you all together.

To your older brothers, you were their cherished little sister—sweet, gentle, and always eager to bridge the gap between them. You strived to ease their conflicts and show your love for each one of them, appreciating their unique qualities and talents equally.

Yes, you had no favourite. You loved them equally, and they both loved you in return, as their family. Until one didn't. Until something changed.

Suddenly, one of them seemed bothered by your mere presence. Always leaving the second you entered the same room, averting his gaze if your eyes were to ever meet, and ignoring your entire being at school.

This intoxicating, honey-like vapour with hints of candied oranges radiates out for metres around, drenching the halls of Inarizaki High and leaving Atsumu drunk on you.

He can't think straight, can’t focus on sports or academics. You’re the unofficial reason girls are now banned from volleyball practice. Even worse, you’re practically banned from his life. The shift from affectionate brother to distanced meanie was too sudden for you to not feel hurt. So much for your sweet sixteen…

You practically ruined him overnight, your secondary gender holding effects unexpected to it. Now, instead of grabbing ice cream as a group of three, it's you alone. Unless Osamu can join, but even that seems to annoy the faux-blond. He seems irritated by everything you do or do not do. You’re lucky if he walks off without saying a word, as every time Atsumu loses control over his emotions you end up crying in your mother’s embrace. He locks himself in his room and tries to rid himself of the nasty thoughts and feelings he holds inside.

But then there are moments...

Moments when he turns soft, when you meet at night by accident in the kitchen and he’s too drowsy to control his instincts. Suddenly, gentle eyes can't seem to look at anything but you. Suddenly, the smallest space between you seems unbearable to Atsumu.

And you let him. You’re no better.

You embrace him, gently running your fingers through his hair, and hum softly—your tender care is utterly captivating. How could his hands not grasp the fabric of your shirt, his arms tightening around you to hold you close, as the warmth between you rises and your hearts beat in unison?

Yet, it all fades at the break of dawn.  Only a faint blend of your scents lingers—reminiscent of breakfast, with comforting notes of cinnamon and sugar. 

It’s as if the scene abruptly shifts, like a sudden cut in a film. The atmosphere returns to its former state, and you find yourself once again only conversing with Osamu. 

◈ 

Until you turn 18.

Until your first heat starts. Your nest made of anything you could grab in time, stealing blankets, pillows, an accidental hoodie of Atsumu.Something about it seemed so awfully comforting, you couldn’t refuse.

At night, you weep with your face buried in the fabrics, trying to muffle the sounds of your distress while immersing yourself in the rich aroma of cinnamon and spice. You’re burning from the inside, the need to rip your skin from your bones is almost unbearable. Your feverish state leaves you crying under the moonlight's embrace, a trembling plea of desperate longing echoes throughout the night. You crave, you need, more.

But what about your brothers? While they were both forced to wear earbuds and use scent blockers, one suffered just as much as you. Instincts, after all, cannot be completely suppressed.

Atsumu groans, his head sinking into the pillows of his bed as his eyes flutter shut.. God, he loathes this. Loathes having to run his own hands over his physique to remove his shirt. He would much rather feel your soft fingertips dip beneath the fabric and explore his heated torso. Every passing second more agonising than the one before. His only refuge is the enveloping darkness as he presses his eyes shut, desperate to escape the burning torment he's sinking into. He can hear you through the walls, your whines and moans of pain piercing through his solitude.

He really needs to move out.

◈

Your parents welcome you into adulthood, finally granting you the freedom to seek out your life partner, your mate. Yet, your brother won’t even give you the chance to explore this new chapter.

No, after that night, everything changes. He’s unnervingly close, pressing himself against your back, shamelessly inhaling your scent, burying his face in the nape of your neck. He decks you in compliments and constant touches.

Suddenly, he's everywhere around you, determined to keep anyone else at a distance instead. He insists you wear his jackets to school, wrapping you in his scent and effectively isolating you from the world. His overprotective behaviour is so extreme that even your parents are baffled by Atsumu’s mood swings. His intentions unclear as they all believe in the family bond you all have built over the years. 

And you never voice a word of complaint. You would never even dream of challenging Atsumu’s behaviour. In fact, you seem to revel in it.

Despite Osamu’s growing suspicions and the concern it stirs in your parents, their advice falls on deaf ears. Both of you refuse their suggestion: after all, he’s your brother! You feel secure with him close by and aren’t ready to meet your alpha yet. So, your parents can only observe from the sidelines, hoping and praying it’s smooth sailing until the twins move out.

Until the nest is empty.

◈

What they don’t know is how your older brother projects the echoes of your cries and whimpers during your nights in heat onto his fleeting encounters. At 26, he remains resolutely single, every blind date a disappointment, every hookup unsatisfying and hollow. The desire he feels for you overshadows every attempt at connection, leaving him unfulfilled and unwilling to commit.

Everything seems colourless, flavourless-until family calls.

◈

You’ve moved abroad for your studies, seeking to put distance between you and Atsumu, desperate to suppress the sick thoughts and desires that have plagued your mind. You hoped that a change of scenery, far from Japan, would help you start fresh, to find your alpha and live a life untainted by these unsettling feelings.

Yet, returning home for Osamu’s engagement presents an unexpected challenge. The stage is set: the occasion is beautiful, with halls adorned in flowers and sweets to celebrate the festivities. But amidst the elegant decorations, nothing captivates quite like you. Your presence is intoxicating to Atsumu, who can hardly contain himself. Forgive him for losing his composure. Don’t mind the intense stares from across the room, the desire pooling in his dark eyes that burns into your back. Promises made to his brother were forgotten the second he got a glimpse of you.

Suddenly, the suit feels too tight, the necktie suffocating, and his palms dry. Here you are. You, in a stunning dress that accentuates every curve. You radiate a glowing allure that confirms—you're at your prime, ripe for the taking.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, the heat of his body searing through the fabric of your dress. Without needing to turn, you already know who it is; his name escapes your glossed lips. “Atsumu.”

He pulls you close, his presence enveloping you, his voice soft and sheepish against your ear. “I’ve missed ya,” he confesses, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You’ve missed him too, of course. Yet you tried to replace him with someone morally acceptable—a volleyball player from New York, who bore a slight resemblance to your brother. But could he ever truly fill the void left by Atsumu?

The sweet mixture of scents turns sour before you can even reply to Atsumu, before you can admit how much you’ve missed him as well. His fingertips explore your neck, lingering on your scent gland, fainted dents still feasible for his touch. The pressure borders on painful, as he demands an answer with a dangerous edge: “Who?”

If looks could kill, you’d be a dead woman. Your anxious scent mingles with his anger, creating an intense atmosphere that seems to draw everyone’s attention. The events unfold faster than your family can react. You feel the sting of his nails digging into your skin, jealousy manifesting as sharp pain as blood threatens to stain your dress.

Osamu, ever the protector, shields you from Atsumu’s anger, ensuring to guide you out of the halls in a rush. “I apologise for what he did,” the dark-haired twin mumbles, as he patches you up. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this, I promise.” He meets your eyes with a searching look. “He swore to keep his distance. And I thought you’d bring your boyfriend.”

You finally admit in defeat, “He couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to pressure him either—it’s too soon for him to fly over ten hours just to meet my…” You hesitate, casting a glance around the room as a deep sigh escapes you, “…family.”

Osamu nods, understanding. He returns to kneeling in front you, his expression filled with concern. “I hoped that after all these years, Atsumu would have cooled off.”

You cut him off, feeling an odd need to defend the blond. “He never did anything wrong,” you insist, trying to convince both Osamu and yourself as your gaze falters. “I’m just as much to blame as he is.” With this declaration, you rise and offer Osamu your hand, helping him back to his soon-to-be wife and the rest of the guests.

Nothing could have prepared you for the smell—the overpowering stench that no flowers could mask. Atsumu sits at the table, his eyes unfocused as your father speaks to him, the words a blur as his lips move too fast for you to catch. You only learn the outcome of the conversation when your mother asks you to approach your oldest brother.

Standing beside him now feels different, a new layer of fear creeping into your emotions—something you never anticipated feeling from him. “I’m sorry,” Atsumu finally breaks the heavy silence, straightening up to face you while avoiding your eyes. “I guess my protective instincts went a bit overboard after… all these years.” He clears his throat, cringing slightly at his own words.

With all eyes on you, you can only hum in agreement before you’re guided to sit beside Atsumu. The effort to mask the sour scent of his anger and soothe him only possible with you being closeby. You have to forget about your own feelings for the day; after all, the event is meant for enjoyment and celebration. Every smile you force, every laugh you share feels tainted with an aftertaste of discomfort, yet you try to maintain a semblance of normalcy, for Osamu.

But the close proximity—shoulders brushing, hands fleetingly touching, eyes meeting—heightens the tension between you. Your heart races uncontrollably, and shivers travel down your spine, each sensation a reminder of the internal struggle between your morals and instincts.

Atsumu, everso selfless, extended an offer for you to stay at his apartment. It was a gesture of goodwill, though it now feels like an unexpected complication. No one anticipated his behaviour would spiral this much, especially after the plans had been made. Your parents, trusting their children, hoped that Atsumu would have matured enough and that staying at his place would be more comfortable for you. They assumed you were busy enough with your studies and the hassle of flying back home to Japan that they simply decided for you weeks ago.

But as the door to Atsumu’s apartment clicks shut, the reality of the situation settles in. The safety of this space, the sanctuary you hoped for, now feels like a fighting ring where the unresolved tension might only grow.

Atsumu carefully guides you to your room, setting down your luggage, while repeating the same sentence over and over in his head: “Let her in and leave, lock your door, go to sleep.” Yet, as he turns to face you, his presence looms over you like a storm, his hands grazing your neck with a possessive, almost reverent touch, as his eyes lock onto yours.

“Who?” he asks again, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that sends shivers down your spine.

The blockers you’ve relied on falter under the overwhelming force of his scent, a potent mix of spice and raw desire that fills the room and stirs something deep and primal within you. You try to form a coherent response, try to remember the name of your partner, but your mind is consumed by the intoxicating presence of Atsumu. Each breath you take is thick with his scent, and you find yourself struggling to maintain a shred of rational thought.

Your attempt to explain dissolves into a stuttering mess, and all you can manage is a pathetic, “Not you.” The words escape your lips as a weak, desperate whimper, and Atsumu’s reaction is immediate and intense. A guttural groan of frustration erupts from him as he seizes your hips, pulling you roughly against his chest. His powerful arms encircle you, creating a cocoon of warmth that feels both incredibly comforting and alarmingly suffocating.

You can’t deny the wave of relief that washes over you as his scent engulfs you, blending with your own and heightening the undeniable ache between your legs. The slickness pooling in your panties is a blatant testament to your arousal, and Atsumu’s keen senses pick up on it immediately. His fingers dig into your body with a possessive urgency that makes your head spin.

A mental war rages within you: the clear, rational part of your mind screams that this is wrong, that your relationship with Atsumu is taboo and fraught with complications. But it’s overpowered by a darker, primal greed that drives you to clutch at him with a fervent need. You can’t ignore the way your body responds to his touch, the way every fibre of your being craves him despite the guilt and confusion clouding your thoughts.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips brush against his neck. A desperate plea slips from your lips, echoing a longing you can no longer suppress. “Alpha…”

Atsumu’s groan vibrates through your body as his lips trail down your jawline, a possessive hunger that makes your knees weak. His tongue flicks over your scent gland, marking his claim with a rasping, “Mine, always been mine.” And it all gets too much for little you. Tears stream down your cheeks as you plead, “Tsumu… please…” Each cry is a mix of desperation and guilt, torn between what you know is wrong and the overpowering need within you.

“You’re telling me you belong to someone else? Yet you beg for me,” he speak lowly into your ear. As his sounds and murmurs fill your ear, the boundaries of right and wrong blur, leaving you surrendering to Atsumu’s fierce desire. His hands grip your waist with a primal hunger, the scent of desire thick in the air as he towers over you. 

You shake your head, incoherent cries escaping your lips. “Just you… Ever always… Tsumu… Yours…” Atsumu’s breath hitches as he nips at your neck, his canines grazing your skin with a tantalising edge that sends shivers down your spine. The primal need within you breaks free, overwhelming your morals.

His erection presses against your tummy, the scandalous sensation causing a moan to escape you. You arch your body, craving the heat and pressure only he can provide. Atsumu’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he revels in your response.

“Good omega,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. His hands explore your body, tracing your curves before sliding under your dress to caress your bare skin. Every touch is electric, fueling the fire between you.

When his fingers brush against your damp panties, Atsumu’s leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You’re mine, every part of you.” You moan in reply as his touch makes your body tremble, his weight pressing against you with a throbbing intensity.

“Please…” you beg, grinding against him, seeking more friction. “Tsumu… I need…” The energy almost driving you to come undone already, each touch overwhelming your self-control.

Atsumu’s movements are motivated by an insatiable need, his rough hands unrelenting as he pushes you onto the bed. “I need you,” he utters, his voice thick with desire. Your heart pounds, anticipation and desperation spiralling out of control as he undresses, his clothes hitting the floor in a blur. The raw need coursing through you is almost unbearable, each second that passes intensifying your craving. His every movement is a tease, a promise of the release you’re aching for, and your body trembles with a desperate hunger that feels as though you need him to survive.

He tears away your dress with frantic urgency, his lips scattering kisses across your exposed skin. “So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His touch ignites a fresh wave of need as his lips trail down your collarbone, his fingers finding the hem of your panties and stripping them away with fervent determination. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice a low rasp.

When he finally tastes you, his tongue exploring your core with hungry abandon, each lick fuels the fire within. “More,” you plead, “Please, Tsumu, more!”

He hums in approval, swearing to himself to give you everything you crave. As he positions himself between your thighs, his body presses against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Atsumu’s breath comes in ragged bursts as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with an almost feverish desire. “Maybe I should just fuck you senseless,” he muses, his voice thick with hunger. You whine in need, your body trembling as you practically drool over the sight of him. His slightly too-big cock rubs teasingly against your folds, each friction sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

“Gonna fill that sweet little cunt with my cum…” he groans, his words a sultry promise as he coats himself with your juices. Without any further preparation, he pushes into you. The stretch is overwhelming—too much, too good, too painful, yet just right. It’s as if he belongs inside you.

Your body arches instinctively to meet him, a desperate cry escaping your lips as you revel in the sensation. The connection between you both is undeniable, and with each inch that he sinks deeper, you’re consumed by the desperate need that has built up between you over the years.

Atsumu moans in response to your cries, his voice a low growl. “Breed you all day long, fuck…” he continues, his words a promise of unrelenting passion. He pauses for a moment, his hand gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place. The tip of his cock presses deeply into your fluttering walls, each thrust reaching parts of you that make your body shiver.

“Not already coming from just this, are you, baby?” Atsumu growls, his breath hot against your skin. His voice is laced with a mix of teasing and hunger, the edge of possessiveness clear in his tone. When you nod, your soft mewls send shivers through him.

Your arms tighten around his neck, pressing your face against his warm, soft skin as you beg, “Please, plea—ah, take care of me.” Your desperation is punctuated by those pathetic little whimpers, a level of need that drives your Alpha absolutely insane.

Atsumu pulls out of you momentarily, his gaze locked on yours. He groans, “‘Course I will,” before his hips snap forward again, plunging into you with a relentless force. Each thrust is driven by years of pent-up frustration and need, every motion filled with unfiltered desire.

You writhe beneath him, consumed by an overwhelming urge for his bite, his cock, his knot. You crave to be filled to the brim, your body yearning to be stretched and stuffed until you're perfectly round and swollen. “Tsumu” Your voice is desperate, barely recognizable as your own, laced with need. “I'm breeding your sweet little cunt and you’re going to take every. single. drop.” With the last words he already thrusts harshly into you. Big hands claw into your waist, forcing your body to arch helplessly as he dominates you. His thrusts are deep and relentless, each powerful movement making the fat of your ass jiggle. “Such a good bunny…” Atsumu groans, his voice dripping with possessive satisfaction.

“Now, come for me,” Atsumu commands, his gaze fixed on your quivering form. “Come all over me.” Desperation claws at you as you seek your release, your weak hands scratching at Atsumu’s back, leaving red streaks that burn on his skin. Legs spread wide for your alpha, your breasts bounce with every forceful thrust of Atsumu’s hips, connecting with yours in a delightful rhythm. Pleasure clouds your mind, reducing you to a chant of his name, each utterance a desperate plea.

Atsumu's mind roars with need as he looks down at you. He wants to mark you, claim you completely, and breed you. Now that he has you beneath him, he is determined to savour every moment, to ensure you are utterly his. He wants to see you drunk on his cock, to take care of you, his darling omega, until all but him is forgotten.

Atsumu feels you clenching around him, your tightness pushing him to the brink. “Just like that, good girl,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “You’re gonna make me cum.” The desire in his eyes is fierce as he thrusts deeper, the remnants of his control fraying with every movement.

With each powerful thrust, Atsumu's need to possess you grows. He envisions you marked, claimed, and filled by him, an unbreakable bond forged in this moment of passion. The rhythm of your bodies is a dance of primal desire, your cries of ecstasy blending with his guttural groans. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of pleasure and need.

As you feel the peak of your release approaching, your body tightens around him, every nerve ending aflame with sensation. Atsumu's words, his touch, his presence, all coalesce into a symphony of desire that drives you over the edge. You tremble beneath him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.

You ache for him to release inside you, to fill you to the brim with the warmth you craved. The slap of his thighs against yours, the wet, frantic noises, and the erratic breaths all that fills the space between you. His strong scent envelops you, mingling with your own, as his fingers find your clit, rubbing with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, stars exploding behind your closed eyes, your mind unable to grasp anything but the ecstasy he is giving you.

Atsumu’s chest presses heavily against you, a constant reminder of his dominance. “Don’t ever forget—” he rasps, his grip tightening on your hips. “That pretty cunt… these perfect tits… every damn inch of you belongs to me.” His words were a possessive threat, a vow of ownership.

He has you, his delicate omega, completely at his mercy. He's never going to give you away again. He feels high thanks to the way you unravel beneath him, turning you into a trembling, sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the sheer force of his desire.

In that moment, you both reach the pinnacle of your desires, your high-pitched moans intertwining with Atsumu's deep, guttural ones. And he fills you so deliciously. Atsumu’s knot swells, pressing tightly inside you as he fills you with his cum. Each pulse of his release sends waves of ecstasy through you, making you feel as if you’re on the brink of losing yourself. His teeth bite down on your neck, and the stinging sensation sends lightning to course through your weakened frame, chiselling your bond in stone. It feels as though the world has narrowed to just the two of you, your bodies entangled in a state of perfect, overwhelming bliss. “Mine, all mine...” the hushed promised whispered into your nape.

As the sensations finally begin to recede, you drift into unconsciousness, the warmth of sleep enveloping you and providing a hazy escape from mistakes made in the dark.

[teamatsumu]

I want apex alphas Miya Twins

IMAGINE 2 APEX ALPHAS!!!!

And a pretty lil omega reader who’s super shy 🤰🤰

I’m cumming just thinking about it

Oh you are so real for this because really, lets imagine.

Apex Alphas are extremely rare, so even finding one is difficult. Now imagine if you have two, and both of them wanted the same omega: little old you.

You cannot, for the life of you, imagine why. You are an unclaimed omega, yes, but you are not anything special. You are one of a hundred different omegas who would give their right limb to mate with one of the twins. Yet not one, but both want you. And once they have set their sights on you, there’s no getting away.

Atsumu is more outwardly aggressive about it. You are his omega and that means no one else can have you. He physically puts himself between you and other Alphas. They cower at his presence, of course. They cannot match an Apex Alpha, so they give up on you pretty early on. It seems you’re already taken.

Osamu is more quietly intimidating. If someone hits on you, he will burn a hole in their head with his stare. Only a truly stupid Alpha wouldn’t get the hint. While Osamu won’t beat them to a pulp like Atsumu will, he is mean about his insults. He immediately comments on any Alpha’s worth, how they don’t deserve you. He goes for the jugular, and then he watches them struggle to take him on.

And there you are in the middle of it, helpless to stop them. Not that you want to. Having two prime species battle any other man so they could claim you is a massive turn on. How could it not be? Being so desirable? Your omega is preening on the inside.

[khship910]

When you watch a Hallmark Christmas movie, do you ever wish there was more Omegaverse, magical powers, and explicit sex? May I recommend this thing I wrote, and HAPPY Holidays!!

[dashboard-cup-holder]

Alpha Atsumu x Omega Shouyou is good, but consider: Alpha Atsumu x Beta Shouyou. Atsumu thinking Shouyou's an omega because of his height and falling hard for him the first time he watches him play and intentionally befriending him afterward, but all the instinctual alpha signals he sends him Shouyou doesn't pick up on bc he's a beta who can't smell pheromones. Atsumu who fantasizes about Shouyou constantly and oblivious Shouyou who thinks they're just good friends and doesn't mind how handsy Atsumu is because Shouyou's handsy with everyone. Atsumu who has to learn to use his words and confess to Shouyou before he finally gets it. Atsumu and Shouyou awkwardly having to figure how how to make male alpha and male beta biology work because they're too in love to let it get in the way.

[queenkeiji]

dilf king advisor sakusa from the sakuatsu fic, “fool’s advice”

commissioned piece for @vmkbiased! 💗 go read her amazing alpha king advisor x alpha prince skts fic!!

[moonycoco-fic-recs]

match made in heat

Summary: “Ya fuckin’...ya piece of shit alpha.” “Excuse me?” “Ya put me in heat, ya fuckin’ knothead.” In the heat of an argument, Sakusa uses a command on Atsumu, unexpectedly triggering his heat. Over the course of their forced proximity as teammates, Sakusa has come to regard Atsumu as an aggravating and aggravatingly attractive man, whose presence constantly threatens to send him to an early grave. So when he agrees to accompany him through his heat, it’s under the guise of mere guilt and having the decency to take responsibility for his poor actions. But in the following days of spending time with Atsumu and getting to know him beyond the pleasures of his flesh, Sakusa is helpless to deny the storm that brews inside of him. And in the eye of it is something that threatens to overwrite his entire being, something he’s never once felt in his entire life—the overpowering desire to claim and mate.

Author: celltea

Ship: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Miya Atsumu

Tags/Genre: ABO, Enemies to Lovers, Possessive Behavior, Heat, Omegaverse

Length: 21.5k and more

Status: On-going

Ratings: Explicit

Site: Ao3

PS: LINK IN COMMENT SECTION

Art ctto: throttlee

[tsumukono]

He is protective jealous, but he loves me how i love him.

[zentriii]

atsukita for the ship bingo? if you want of course

atsukita

i'll be so real, absolutely nothing in canon compels me about them, but it's thanks to some fics [including yours!] that lets me see the vision a little. i love both dearly as individuals first and foremost, but i don't mind the two of them together either yk?

[butterymangowrites]

permanent fix

soulmate au + a/b/o

paring: alpha atsumu x fem beta reader

warnings: bullying, dub-con, atsumu is not nice, smut, slight breeding kink, biting, blood, choking, mirror sex, possessiveness, jealousy, alpha rut, atsumu talks shit, dramatic atsumu

word count: 2.2k

english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes

Born as a beta, you never thought fate would toy with you by giving an alpha as your soulmate. Especially not one like Miya Atsumu, the one whom you went to school through college with and still having to see his face ever so frequently as if he had sworn to never let you live in peace. 

For someone who made faces when seeing the lunchboxes your mom packed for you and proclaimed a beta was weak when you first presented at fifteen, Miya Atsumu couldn’t seem to detach himself from you. 

So when you had a crush on one of your colleagues at twenty five, having his nose in your business as usual, Atsumu knew instantly. 

“Another beta.” Lying comfortably on your couch, Atsumu scoffed. “Predictable.” 

“Didn’t ask for your opinions.” 

“I’m giving it anyway,” he said in a singsong voice, but his face was without mirth. “You can fuck whoever you want, but I’m getting my fix. That’s non-negotiable.”

Oh, yeah. His fix. 

He patted his lap. “Come here.”

Then it all began again. Him cradling you in his lap, hands going all over, lips spilling hateful words. 

‘Weak fucking beta.’ He would say. ‘Even Osamu got an omega soulmate. Makes me jealous as fuck.’ 

But then he would kiss you like the world might end tomorrow, doing everything opposite of what he said. This time was no different. His hot tongue was everywhere he could reach, acquainted itself with yours before leaving a wet trail down your neck. 

You protested when he nipped a little too hard, scared he might leave marks. He did that once. The deep purple hickey you saw in the mirror after he left your apartment scared the shit out of you. A little more force and teeth could have broken the skin, and that thought caused chills to run all over your body. You didn’t want to bear his marks. 

Yet, Atsumu didn’t care. He never did. His hands were now on your buttocks, squeezing hard through your thin pajama bottoms. He moved you to one of his thighs for better concentration. The hands on your butt now rolled your hips back and forth, to the point your moan finally slipped out of your tightly zipped lips and you forgot about the harsh nibbling on your neck.

“Go whore yourself out,” Atsumu whispered. “Like I fucking care.”

Same here, asshole.

You thought, didn’t say out loud. 

Touching each other lifted the heavy weight in the heart caused by the act of not accepting the soulmate bond. Nothing more, nothing less. If not for this calling of intimacy both of you obliged to feel, he wouldn’t be here. You knew that. He said it way too many times. 

Still, your cheeks were licked, your lips were tasted, neck wet with saliva. You felt like a prey about to be eaten every time he was close. Yes, he may not care. But he sure was possessive enough of things that were given to him. 

Whenever you tried to wiggle out of his firm grasp, he tightened his fist. This time was the hardest you ever felt. 

—

In more than twenty years of knowing each other, never once did Atsumu come to you when he had gone into rut. So when he called you two in the morning one week after his last fix, ordered you to pack a bag and tell your boss you would be on leave for a week, you were baffled. It was never more than kisses and touches with him. Your clothes were always intact and on. The idea of that being changed had you flat out saying no. 

That didn’t stop Atsumu from coming to get you one hour later though. When he saw that you did nothing to get ready, his jaw was clenched. A split second later, he packed your bag himself, shoving clothes and toiletries in without any care. You were still in pajamas when the passenger door was slammed closed and he hit the gas. 

—

There were reasons why betas are not for alphas. Physically, they were incompatible. Betas weren’t designed for alpha’s stamina, not to mention one in rut. At one point, you did not care to count anymore how many times you had blacked out. Fading in and out really fucked with your memory. All you remembered was the non-stop pounding, Atsumu’s breath against your face, and his uncharacteristic cooing, praising you as his good girl. 

“Knew you were built for me.” The blond menace pulled on both of your wrists, never stopped his thrusting. “Let me knot you again, okay?” When you shook your head, face wet with tears, Atsumu shushed you softly. “Shhhhh. You can do it, I know you can.”

And you could. But it was not without pain. 

“Shouldn’t have waited this long,” Atsumu said close to your lips. “You almost got away.” 

He talked too much. But it would have been a big fat lie to deny that his words didn’t turn you on. That his vile confession didn’t affect you.

“Bold of you to even think I would let someone else touch you.” He sounded out of breath, closing to his end. “All the effort goes to waste. No no no no.” 

You felt it coming, just seconds before. Then your whole body was taken by the waves of thrills and your whole vision turned white. Atsumu was not your first, but as if he was the harbinger of agony, it hurt when he first penetrated, hurt when he knotted. And when you felt a sharp sting at your sensitive neck, you knew he defied the rule of nature once again by marking you. 

Fruitless. That was what it would be. Betas were not made for alphas. Mating bites did not forge any bond with the wrong person and would fade over time. But Atsumu had always been stubborn. One bite turned into two, three, then countless. All you felt was pain and the wetness of blood before darkness took your consciousness like the many rounds before. 

—

The mating bites faded within two weeks, all except the first mark, proving to you that even biology could not win over destiny. Same went with all other beta-alpha soulmate couples out there after you had done some research. They were rare, but they were there. You shouldn’t have let Atsumu bite you. Should have known better that things could get weird when it came to soulmates. Now, he wouldn’t get off your ass, had the audacity to move his things to your apartment and yours to his, calling you his girlfriend in front of everyone and expecting to see you at his games. 

You didn’t even like volleyball to begin with. And as you watched his magnificent tosses to any players he deemed to have high chances to score, you thought of a way to get out of his clutch. 

He needed an omega, the correct designation he always longed for. Because even with all the protective caresses and the promise to never let you go, Atsumu was still mean. Like going back to the ninth grade when you put makeup on for the first time and he gave you the nastiest comment that made you go wash everything off in the school toilet, his words still stung badly when he chose to weaponize them. 

‘Samu’s mate smells like she needs to be bred.’ He said that nonchalantly one day at Onigiri Miya, sitting side by side with you at the counter where his twin and his mate helped each other with cooking and serving the hungry athletes who were there to celebrate the day’s victory ‘Don’t know how he stands that. So sweet’ 

Hearing that made your conversation with Hinata pause. His steely gaze was the first thing you saw when turning to face ‘your boyfriend’. 

It didn’t end there. For days Atsumu was in a devilish mood, his jabs that you knew most of them were meant to just rile you up for fun had become a real emotional harm. He still fucked you, make no mistake about that. And it was as devilish as his temper. 

‘Too hard, Miya. Too hard.’ You still wouldn’t call him by his first name. 

Veiny hands wrapped snugly around your neck, Atsumu only went faster after hearing that. The bathroom mirror was foggy with hot steam from the shower, but you could see enough. One of your legs was perched on the counter, allowing the view of his cock pistoning in and out of you, your breasts bouncing fast. 

‘Would have been pregnant already if you were an omega.’ The sentence came out coated with his accent, thicker than normal, like he didn’t have full control of how he spoke. ‘But that’s alright. I can take my time with you. We’ll get there,’ he purred. ‘Still, what a shame, huh?’ 

Shame his ass for saying that and not letting you leave. ‘Go fuck an omega then.’

He smirked. Pissed you off. ‘Nah.’ 

As his toss to Sakusa scored a winning point, the loud cheer brought you back to the present. You saw Atsumu eyes staring up at you from the court below and knew what you had to do. 

—

Getting an omega who wanted to spend a heat with Miya Atsumu was easy enough. Sending her up to your apartment where he was already there waiting for you was as simple. You drove away then, not far, stopping at your favorite 24-hour cafe because you needed somewhere to sit and waited for the first feedback from the omega girl. Half an hour later, you got a call. 

The screen showed the female omega’s name. You picked up and said hello, expecting to hear that everything went well and that you could go find somewhere else to sleep for the next five nights.

But you only heard cries. Not of pleasure, just a full-blown crying with hiccups. 

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, frowning. “Talk to me. What happened?” 

“He—he screamed—at me,” she spluttered, almost incoherently, “and only asked where you were.” 

You cursed quietly, finally able to stop stirring the poor coffee you ordered without any interest in taking a sip. “Where is he now?” 

“I don’t know,” she cried. “He left—after the screaming.” Her voice wavered all the more when she kept on trying to speak. “You had to see him. He looked murderous. There was not even a hello. He straight up shouted at me, accusing me of breaking in. When I tried to explain—mentioned you, his face was all red.” A hiccup interrupted the long babbling. “He said he was married to you and showed me the ring.”

You were not sure what crack Atsumu was on, but there was definitely no ring or marriage. 

The call was still on when you heard the cafe’s door pushed open. And it was as if you saw the devil with your own naked eyes.

Atsumu walked in. 

His strides declared no peace or mercy when he saw you, ignoring the greetings from the two night shift baristas. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up, didn’t say anything when he put his hand on your shoulder and led the way out. 

The drive was silent. Your car was left at the parking lot near the cafe, you would have to come and get it as soon as you could before the parking fee turned as murderous as him. When asked where he was going, he answered solemnly, “My place. Yours stinks.” 

You just knew it was going to be a long night. 

—

Atsumu was the one who got the car out for you the next morning since he was the one who could still walk without wobbling. The sheets you slept on were rumpled. They reeked of cum. 

You reeked of cum. 

‘You think you’re so funny?’ he asked, knowing you couldn’t answer with his cock occupying your mouth but did it nonetheless ‘You wanted me to fuck her? What was going on in that pretty little head?’ 

He pulled you by the nape of your neck before pushing your head down, forcing your throat to take more of him till you felt the urge to gag. 

‘I thought we had an understanding, baby,’ he said, finally relenting his grip on your head. ‘No whoring yourself out.’ Then he stressed, ‘And no whoring me out. I’m yours.’

‘Do you understand?’ 

You only nodded.

‘Words.’ 

‘Yes, Miya.’ 

‘Atsumu,’ he said, looking like he wanted to throw up. ‘You’re not fucking my brother. Don’t make me imagine that. Call me Atsumu.’

‘Yes, Tsumu.’ 

Looked like you delivered. Atsumu grinned from ear to ear. ‘Good girl. My best girl.’ 

That was last night. 

A warm kiss to the cheek woke you again, must have dozed off after Atsumu left, but those scenes were not a dream. You heard him whisper, 

“I got your car. Parked it at your place.”

He looked like he got a ten-hour sleep while you could not move a limb without feeling sore. Not fair. And the way he looked so good in sheep’s clothing, his wolf’s skin all hidden. Not fair at all.

“Shower.” Your voice was hoarse, but you got the message through. That was good enough. 

[malereadermaniac]

Omega team manager x Random Guys

How Kuroo, Daichi, Bokuto, Atsumu, Ushijima, and Oikawa as alphas would interact with their Omega!manager word count: 3.4k Sfw and Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

I'm fucking FEEDING u lot with this one it's SO LONGGG Also sorry if some of these guys are OOC I haven't watched Haikyuu in 3 years xoxo

Kuroo sfw

He wasn't opposed to the idea of having an omega as his team manager, in fact Kuroo was quite keen on the idea

He liked the idea of the team leader being an alpha and their manager being an omega

But he didn't let on that he fucking loved it

Kuroo immediately became protective over you, but in a more detached way

He would hang out with you, scenting your stuff over time to reek of his pheromones

After a few months, the rest of the team, as well as every other alpha in the school had backed off from you

The two of you took forever to even start courting

But it wasn't bad that way, you received the same amount of attention from Kuroo that you would if he was to court you

Kuroo would give you his team jacket to wear when the team was running laps outside, his scent enveloping you

The built alpha would tell you to cheer extra loud for him before a game

Eventually, the alpha mustered up the courage to court you, and the two of you have been together for ages now

Dates every weekend, study dates if you have exams the next week

Sleepovers after dates were mandatory

And you two were insufferable at college, Kuroo loved to rub his relationship in everyone's face - you were a very popular and sought after omega, so Kuroo liked to make sure people knew you were claimed

"I fuckin' love it when you wear my volleyball tank, babe - can't have an omega as handsome as you walk around without even a trace of my scent"

Kuroo nsfw

What escalated your relationship from courting to dating was your heat

The two of you were at Kuroo's house, home alone studying for a quiz the following Monday

You knew your heat was due soon, but soon meant in a week, not THAT day

What set you off were Kuroo's pheromones, the strong smell of musk mixed with woody scents sent you over the edge

The alpha noticed your panting and blushed face immediately

He apologised, kept his distance and told you several times not to do something you two would regret

Fast forward to the two of you dating, Kuroo's rut

His carnal desires took over and you were willing to help

His chiseled body, gleaming with sweat stood naked in front of you, your alpha looking down at you with hazy eyes

Your knees buckled from his pheromones

An hour had gone by and Kuroo was still sloppily eating you out, not even putting a finger in you, his rut keeping his focus only on the addictive taste of your slick leaking ass

Once your alpha had finally had his fill, he moved on to fucking you

Kuroo's rut made him ruthless, fucking you with vigor, panting and grunting into your ear, biting your body and covering you in marks possessively

The room was hot and stuffy with the smell of sweat, alpha pheromones, omega pheromones, cum and slick - but Kuroo and you kept going until his rut finally started to let up

"My Omega- HAHH! FUCK! Go-oood Omega-! Love you- so fuckin' - GAHH- SO FUCKIN MUCH"

Daichi sfw

He knew you before you became Kurasuno's manager

Daichi was practically courting you by the time you became the teams manager - so Nishinoya and Tanaka were quickly put off of you once they smelled Daichi's pheromones all over you

Again, being one of the few male Omega's at your college made you highly sought after

Daichi always told you how lucky he was to have your love

He's the softest Alpha you've ever met, gentle touches juxtapose his rough hands

He likes that the two of you are relatively popular, people watch as the two of you walk together and think that you're the perfect couple

Daichi likes to cuddle you, scent you constantly and to always feel his hands on you or vice versa

The alpha has no clue about PDA, he kisses you in corridors - his Alpha then prolonging the kiss to a make-out session that lasts the whole of lunch - it's up to you to drag him away to a more private area

Daichi is completely head over heels for hid omega

"I'm so glad we're together, I'm so lucky to be with you, (y/n). I love you, darling~"

Daichi nsfw

Daichi is the complete opposite of himself when he's in a rut

He isn't violent, but his grip changes from soft to firm on you, he shows his possessive side a lot more - calling you "Mine" and "My Omega" instead of his usual nicknames for you

He fucks you hard and each of his rounds last ages - Daichi being a manager of a volleyball team being incredibly daunting once his stamina gets applied to sex

Once his ruts ends, Daichi has to care for you for at least 2 days, your lower half not working at all

On the other hand, during your heats Daichi becomes a fat tease

The alpha fucking loves when you get desperate for him, it awakens something carnal within him

He makes out with you for a while as you grind into him, calling you pet names and cooing at you mockingly while you try to get off

Then, Daichi will only finger you for a while until you start literally crying for his knot

Finally when he gives in and fucks you, Daichi goes mental - you'd think he was in a rut

He jerks you off while he fucks hard into your prostate, making you cum over and over again, desperate for his knot

Thank god that you're on contraceptives, because by the end of your heat, you get the best of your alpha at least once or twice, his knot locking him inside of you while your walls tighten and milk his dick

"Fuck baby~ So- tight! 'M sorry baby, cumin- CUMMING! Fu... fuck baby, soo good baby"

Bokuto sfw

This man was ALL over you the moment you became the manager

Bokuto would flirt with you on the daily, and you would flirt back - your confidence and charisma made the owl-haired alpha want you even more

He was always friendly towards you, seeing you as more than an object like most other alphas - he more wanted to be your friend than to mate you

Only once he was in a pre-rut and had to spend a few hours with you did Bokuto fall for you - you were such a caring Omega for him, doting on him and providing him with anything he needs

After that Bokuto was still all over you but now in aims to court you

Which you gladly let the strong, muscular, Alpha captain of your college volleyball team do

So once Bokuto marked you, the two of you became THE college couple

People envied you for dating Bokuto and others envied Bokuto for dating you

He always has an arm around your waist or shoulders, Bokuto has to let people know that he's your alpha

He likes that you're witty for an omega, you're not super soft spoken - you match his vibe, he fucking adores that shit

He tries to be the best alpha he can for you, so he always pays for your meals and other things no matter how much you protest - it inflates his ego (his chest literally puffs up)

He loves spending time with you more than anyone else, Bokuto has never felt the way he does with you with anyone else

"You're mine, cutie~ My fuckin' perfect Omega... You're my everything, (y/n)"

Bokuto nsfw

Bokuto's demeanor in bed depends on if your in heat or if he's in a rut or not - in the best ways possible

If you're in heat and Bokuto is helping you through it, he's caring and careful with you - taking care of each of your needs

He's happy to be a dildo for you to use, a scenting and biting machine that you use to feel better

He rubs your tummy while he fucks you hard, his dick makes your belly bulge slightly - the euphoric feeling making the burn in your stomach from your heat disappear

On the other hand, if Bokuto's in a rut he's an animal

Bokuto loves the sounds you make, they ground him while he pounds you to high heaven, pumping cum into your hole while you squirm and moan under him

He loves the scent you make when you're horny, your sweat and your pheromones keeping the ache in his gut at bay while he drills your hole with his swelling, veiny dick

But unlike most Alphas Bokuto can remain mainly conscious during his ruts

Due to that consciousness, Bokuto makes you blow him at some points, which eventually turns into him mouthfucking you

The alpha marks your whole body when in a rut, grunting and groaning your name into your ear with nothing but lust and love dripping off of his tongue

"Jeusus- fuck- (y/n)- CUMMING! FUCK- Fuck yeah! My fuckin' omega- take my- SHIT- Take my fuckin' pups babe~ I fucking love you- I need you!"

Atsumu sfw

He'd heard of you before you became the team manager

Atsuma had never gotten the hype over Omegas - that was until he had met you

The way you doted on every single team member, made sure they each had water or a towel or anything, the way you cheered him on at the side of the court - it made his inner Alpha jump with joy

Atsumu had never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you - and he was gonna get what he wanted

You noticed him talking to you more, Atsumu would purposefully show-off the height difference between you both while releasing his scent to envelop you

It flustered you at first, but as time went on you embraced the Alpha trying to subtly flirt with you

When the two of you finally started dating, Atsumu had never felt lighter, everything just felt right with you

You took care of him, keeping him in check and fully shouting at him when he gets too high and mighty

The alpha would always buy you gifts, take you out in expensive dates but most of all he liked to have sleepovers with you

You would go to his house and Atsumu would cook for you, really charm you with his looks and skills then cuddle you all night while breathing in your pheromones like air

"I'd give you the world if I could, (Y/n)... Anything for the handsome man who loves me the most"

Atsumu nsfw

Atsumu really understood the hype around Omegas when he first helped you through a heat

The alpha got lost in your scent, the lewd sounds you would make, the way you would beg for him like you needed him to live, and oh god the way you tasted and felt around him

Atsumu felt like he physically couldn't stop fucking you, his hips having a mind of their own as he pounded your loose, slicked up hole

Atsumu is also found that he's a really mean Alpha in bed, something about you brings that out of him

And he found out that you fucking live for his degradation and teasing

He loves the idea of teasing you and laughing at you while your heat is eating at you, your body writhing from the feeling in your stomach as your ass craves for his knot

Atsumu is so mean to you it turns you on so much

He teases your dick, going as far as calling it a pussy as he rubs your dick against his palm while he only just fingers at your prostate

You squirt more and more slick out of your ass until Atsumu finally gives in to your pleas and absolutely ravages your ass

Your walls tighten around your Alphas dick while he fucks up into your prostate with every thrust

Moans and grunts echo in the room, Atsumu's veiny hand wraps around your throat and he squeezes gently while your hands dart to his muscular back and scratch him like a scratching post

By the time you've came for a 3rd time, Atsumu has filled your hole up to the brim

Your alpha is 6 loads in and is still willing to push through till the end of your heat ♡

"You're so cute, Omega~ Such a pathetic excuse of a man, such a cute little dick, look at you squirting sterile cum all over yourself"

Ushijima sfw

Omegas avoided Ushijima like the plague, even for an alpha he was huge and scary

So when you showed none of that when interacting with Ushijima, you had caught his eye straight away

He liked how kind you were, caring and doting like any other Omega but in a natural way - not in an overly exaggerated way like he had seen other Omegas behave around his teammates

The rest of the team noticed how much Ushijima was head over heels doe you - and they supported it so so much

He liked the height difference between you two, Ushijima would focus on how small you were compared to him even for an Omega, your small waist which his veiny hands could easily wrap around were on his mind practically 24/7

Once the team started to push Ushijima to court you, it was funny to see how you, as an Omega, were pulling most of the weight - making all the first moves while Ushijima blushes away

You were his first everything- his first crush, his first courting, his first kiss, and first time - He was like a schoolgirl around you

But once he mustered up the courage to ask you to be his, you were ecstatic - and so was the rest of the team

Dating the massive alpha was incredible, he was rich so of course Ushijima spoiled you

He compliments you so, so much in a nonchalant way - saying shit like "You're the most gorgeous man I've ever laid my eyes on" like it isn't the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you!

And you two go on so many romantic and heartfelt dates, many of which happen at your house

Ushijima absolutely loves it when you cook for him, he sits down at the table and watches you cook away while you talk to him about something random

The whole time your words going in one ear and out the other while your muscular Alpha fantasises about you doing this for him everyday of the rest of his life after marrying you - which he most definitely plans on doing

"(Y/n) Ushijima~ I like the sound of that. Would you like to marry me, my omega? I think we'd make beautiful pups, don't you?"

Ushijima nsfw

Again, you were his first everything - so of course you were the Alpha's first time, too

The first time you helped Ushijima through a rut was insane, the poor virgin Alpha could not stop for his life

His scent was extremely powerful from the pure excitement and lust he was feeling, Ushijima was fucking you at an animalistic pace while he grunted and moaned so loud that the entire Ushijima estate could probably hear

He'd already came 4 times, his hips not stopping once, your dick overstimulated as you moaned and cried - Ushijima apologising between moans, drunk and high off of his rut

He'd never felt such pleasure before, a pure and constant rush if dopamine flooding his brain as he fucks his pups into you, his knot now just pushing in and out of you - the pain and pleasure mixing like the smell of pheromones and sweat in the Alpha's room

By the time Ushijima had regained consciousness and control over his body, he was appalled at himself

His eyes glanced over your body, widening in horror at the state your body was in - bite marks on every little patch of skin, bruises all over your hips and neck and wrists, cum still leaking out of your loose hole and your body covered in dried, sticky cum

After being bombarded with apologise, you calmed Ushijima down and promised that you enjoyed yourself

A part of him also felt really guilty that when he saw your puffed out hole, filled with his cum - a part of him hoped you'd carry his pups, so much so that he'd already gotten a semi from the idea

On the other hand, the way that Ushijima helps you through heats is incredibly sweet

The alpha does his best to soothe your pain, fingering at your prostate until you cum on his fingers while breathing in your mates scent, the burn in your stomach already dissipating

The alpha had laid plenty of attention in health class, so his dick is in you almost instantly after your first orgasm, slow thrust directly against your prostate making you slick up even more, cumming once again from the way Ushijima pressed a hand against the bulge in your belly

By the end of your heat, Ushijima's back is torn to shreds along with some beautiful bite marks from you all over his broad shoulders and neck

Your body on the other hand is perfectly clean - apart from.your mating mark, which Ushijima ensured to make fresh once more

"You're so beautiful, Omega. Feel so good around me, such a good boy for me, all slicked and taking my big dick so deep, all the way - you feel good don't you,(y/n)?"

Oikawa sfw

The idea of having THE campus omega as his team manager made Oikawa's chest puff up

He was all over you immediately - which made you more flustered than uncomfortable

The whole team liked you, you were very attentive to their needs and would always be up to help them with whatever - but Oikawa liked you even more than the others

The Alpha could feel his heart rate jump when you would arrive at practice and could feel his mood perk up when he had a class with you

The whole team knew the captain liked you - even you weren't oblivious to that fact, so it didn't come as a surprise when Oikawa tried to court you

You made no complaints, you were used to Alpha's trying to court you but you had always turned them down - you decided to give your handsome team captain a chance

And holy crap did he quickly make you fall for him

The alpha would scent you every chance he would get, Oikawa would greet you with a hug and a gift and then spend the whole time you two were together following you around like a puppy and chatting to you non-stop

His masculine scent and his charisma made it hard not to fall for him

So once Oikawa had successfully courted you, the two of you started to date

Never had the Alpha's ego been as high as it is now that you two are dating

Everyone at college knows about you two, due to Oikawa's loud mouth and inflated ego

He's constantly touching, you're on his arm every hour of every day bur you have no complaints about it

The Alpha constantly compliments you and wants to spend time with you - his playboy ways being long forgotten since he started courting

Every time you two are together is good, even arguments with your alpha end in hugs and tears

"Gosh (n/n)-chan you're so cute! Ya know, you look so good on my arm, bet everyone's soooo jealous of me right now~"

Oikawa nsfw

A selfish lover is the only way to describe Oikawa during his ruts

Like any other alpha Oikawa can only focus on his needs - but trust me only after Oikawa has came at least 3 times to you cum for the first time

The alpha will be fucking into you, milking his dick empty of his fertile seed for hours on end and you only cum around twice per rut

Oikawa feels bad about this once he comes back around but he can't help himself, you just feel too good around him he can't even focus on you

Your heats are totally different though

Oikawa loves to make you feel as good as possible - almost a little too good

The alpha has you cumming on his tongue within minuets - minuets which turn into hours of your heat craving your alphas dick and him not giving it to you

He fucking loves it when you literally cry for him to fuck you, beg for his veiny dick and his thick knot

Once Oikawa gives in and finally fucks you, he's ruthless, fucking you with so much vigor that you're squirting cum all over yourself constantly

You're moans and your scent are enough to make Oikawa fill you with cum, his knot finally making that burn in your belly calm down

Bathing in the afterglow, Oikawa can't help but stay hard from the way you look

You're like an angel sent by God himself, his perfect omega, your face fucked out and tired, your body covered in cum and marks - and oh fuck your hole clenching on his dick, milking your alpha for his pups

"Aww do you need my dick, baby? Does my poor Omega fucking desperate for my knot - do you want my pups, darling?"

Hope you guys enjoyed - very long for my kind of writing and I think it sucked in some parts but hope u liked xoxoxoxoxo

[foreveia]

snow one like you ⤨ miya atsumu

⨭ genre; college!au, frat!au, enemies to lovers!trope (sort of)

⨭ pairing; miya atsumu x f!reader

⨭ word count; 16.4k

⨭ descriptions; you're convinced that miya atsumu is the world's biggest fuckboy asshole, and yet, when the iota nu alpha (ina)'s exec board and your sorority's exec board go on winter break together, you come to prove that there really is a thin line between hate and something else.

⨭ warnings; alcohol, profanity, sexual innuendos, LOTS of dick jokes

⨭ a/n; i have been FIENDING to write frat boy! & fuckboy!atsumu bro so here's the 'tsumu redemption story lmfao i am very proud of coming up w greek letter versions of the hq teams. hope u love seeing a fuckboy conversion story as much as i do mwah :)

one.

Winter break should have been perfect. 

Here’s what should have happened: (1) you, your sorority’s executive board, and an obsessive amount of luggage for a two week break all pile into Mao’s sexy black Jeep; (2) drive six and a half hours up to the cute, girly AirBnB you rented for this; (3) sleep in until 1 PM every day and wake up in the softest sheets ever; (4) spend the whole winter break snowboarding down black diamonds and drinking mimosas in the hot tub. You even treated yourself to a shopping spree in preparation for it; four sets of pink bikinis and matching silk pajamas for the girls had put a significant dent in your bank balance but who cares because it was meant for your perfect winter break. It could’ve been perfect. It should’ve been perfect. 

But here you are instead, the day after finals on what could have been a lovely end to the first half of your junior year but instead is the start of an imminently torturous two weeks, standing at the curb of your university apartment building, shivering your absolute fucking ass off in just a hoodie because Aran’s rental car was delayed an hour for pick up. All your favorite winter wear is already packed into the massive duffel bag by your feet, stuffed to the absolute brim with just one of your new bikinis (since apparently, you had to do bonding activities now), plain pajama sets (the girls worried the others would feel left out), and everything you could ever need to commit a murder and get away with it. 

Your planned victim? Atsumu Miya, the official worst human being on Earth.

This belief is confirmed by the blue 2012 Hyundai you’ve been waiting on finally rolling up, and the back door popping open to reveal Atsumu, sprawled across the three seats as if he owns the place. He looks as if he plans on you feeding him grapes and massaging his feet during the ride there; you want to punch him in the jaw. His eyes flick up, lazily scanning you from head to toe with a smirk that could infuriate a saint.

“Awh, look who’s here to grace us with her presence,” he drawls, not bothering to move an inch. “So princess, ready to fall in love with me yet?”

You grit your teeth, forcing a smile that’s more a baring of teeth. Mentally, you scratch out human—because he’s actually closer to a demon. 

“In your fantasies,” you scoff, heaving your duffel bag into the trunk with more force than necessary. The trunk is a struggle to close because it’s already overflowing with way more baggage than is needed for a winter break trip.

He chuckles, an irritating sound that grates on your last nerve. “Oh, I have plenty of those, babe. Yer just usually not wearin’ clothes in ‘em.” 

Yep, it’s confirmed. You’re going to kill Atsumu. 

Unfortunately, Yui Michimiya, the sorority president and apparently shotgun, rolls down the window before you get the opportunity to strangle him right then and there. “Y/N, get in the car, we have to go! Mao and them are already on their way there.” 

You sputter. “I’m stuck in the back with him? Are you kidding?”

“Aran is driving the first three hours, and then I’m switching with him. We don’t have time for this.”

“What, so I not only have to share my winter break with the fucking foxes, but now I’m backseat? Why didn’t you just let me go with the other girls, Yui?” you whine. You know you’re being childish, but you don’t care. This is practically a matter of life or death (albeit not yours—for Atsumu). 

Yui’s eyes dart between you and Atsumu, her lips pressed into a thin line as she navigates the tension with the ease of a seasoned diplomat. “Look, I know you two have your... differences, but we’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s a long drive, and we can’t afford to start late. You two both need to just suck it up, okay? It’s just a few hours.”

You glance at Atsumu, who’s now sporting a grin that suggests he’s already won whatever game he thinks you’re playing. The prospect of spending hours confined in a car with him makes your skin crawl, but with a resigned sigh, you grab the rest of your gear and slide into the backseat. The door slams shut, sealing your fate. You’re already sad for your future self.

Atsumu shifts, making a show of spreading out even more, his smirk never faltering. “Are ya feelin’ cozy, sweetheart?” he teases, nudging you with his knees as his legs open so far he’s past the empty center console.

“Your tiny dick does not need that much room. Now get your legs away from mine before I chop them off and throw them in the woods behind our cabin.”

“Wow, princess, didn’t think 8 inches was tiny in yer book. Or should I say size queen?”

This is officially the worst winter break of your life.

When Chizuru, the sorority secretary, had first proposed the idea of sharing your annual break retreat with a fraternity executive board, you thought she was joking. And then when Mao, the internal vice president, said it was a lovely plan so that both parties could have bigger facilities and more funds, you begged for it to be any other fraternity. And then finally, when Yui officially confirmed that your retreat would be a joint trip with Iota Nu Alpha (INA)’s five executive members, you actually lost your mind. 

Because Iota Nu Alpha, while being a generally very respectable fraternity with a decent national establishment and well-regarded chapter on your campus, contains a particular flaw: a certain external vice president who is the actual devil and goes by the earthling name of Atsumu Miya. 

The truth is that you’re not a very violent person—you don’t even knowingly kill bugs, much less go on mental tangents fantasizing about someone’s downfall. Before freshman year of college, you wouldn’t have ever believed that you’d be on the verge of homicidal rage just from the sound of someone’s voice. 

But Atsumu truly is a special case because he has an innate talent for bringing out the worst in you. Every smirk, every condescending comment, every casual brush of his arm against yours feels like a deliberate provocation, and it has ever since you first met him in a frat basement during your freshman year. Deciding he was nothing but bad news, you had tried to distance yourself from him, but somehow, he continues to be pulled back in everywhere: from being chemistry lab partners in your freshman spring to being paired during the Greek life matchups to being forced to take him to your sophomore sorority formal because your initial date ghosted last minute, for some reason, the universe hates you and you literally cannot escape him. 

Atsumu Miya spends half his time flirting with you and the other half pissing you off; he’s a thorn in your side that simply will not budge. He’s evidently already made it his mission to ruin your break before it’s even started, so that’s just reason #13092 of why he is in fact the bane of your existence.

The car pulls away from the curb, and Aran, INA’s secretary, adjusts the rearview mirror to glance back at the two of you. “Let’s try to keep it civil, alright? We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

Atsumu snickers and you roll your eyes, keeping your gaze trained on what’s outside the window. The cityscape blurs past, a mix of buildings and holiday lights from tourist spots in the area. If you had been in Mao’s car right now, accompanied by her and two tolerable members of the fraternity, you’d probably be excited, chattering on and on about all the fun you were going to have. But now, the only thing you can think about is how to survive the next few hours—and then the next two weeks—without throttling the blonde asshole sitting next to you. 

“Y’know, princess,” Atsumu says after a few minutes of blessed quiet, “Ain’t it funny how ya swore in freshman year yer never speakin’ ta me again? And yet here we are.”

You don’t bother looking at him, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, hilarious. It’s the comedy of the century how you’ve become an inescapable part of my college life. What’s next? Are you planning to haunt my dreams too?”

Atsumu’s grin widens, undeterred by your sarcasm. “Are ya sayin’ ya wanna sleep with me? Awh, at least buy me dinner first.”

“Fuck you.”

“I mean, as ya wish. Or I can fuck ya, I don’t mind changin’ up positions.”

You glare at him, but the intensity of your anger is somewhat mitigated by the fact that you’re squished in the backseat, your knees almost touching his. Yui and Aran exchange a glance in the front, clearly relieved that the bickering hasn’t escalated to physical violence—yet.

You think they shouldn’t be relieved yet. With the way Atsumu is currently simpering at you, it won���t be long before you act on your deep urge to punch him.

two.

The first few hours of the drive pass. You try to ignore Atsumu as much as possible, staring out the window and counting the trees as they whip by; still, he keeps saying stupid things and making you acknowledge them because they’re just that stupid. He just has the miraculous ability to pull you out of your head and whenever he speaks, he becomes all you can think about (because you’re so enraged by his audacity). Occasionally, you catch snippets of Yui and Aran’s conversation, but their voices are low, and you’re too wrapped up in your own thoughts and debates to pay much attention.

And then you notice the snow outside. You’re far enough outside of Tokyo now where the weather has begun to change; it is so incredibly beautiful to see the snowflakes flying down gently as the car flies past the snow-dusted neighborhoods and you can’t help but press your forehead against the cool glass, fascinated. You haven’t seen snowfall this hard in so long, and you are enthralled by it. It’s like the universe itself is trying to soften your mood, scattering diamonds across the landscape to distract you from the simmering tension inside the car. Even Atsumu seems momentarily quiet, his usual remarks on pause as he gazes out his own window.

The serene moment, however, is shattered when Aran suddenly pipes up, “We’re going to make a quick stop in Sendai. Need to stretch our legs and maybe grab some snacks. Anyone need anything specific?”

“Head from the princess.”

“A break from Atsumu.”

Yui snaps, evidently reaching her limit. “Okay, that’s enough. Everyone out.”

The car pulls into a convenience store parking lot, and the group disbands for a brief respite from the confined space: Aran goes to refill the tank, Atsumu and Yui head inside the store, and you trail behind in the lot. You step out, taking in the crisp, cold air, feeling it sting your lungs—a welcome pain compared to the annoyance of dealing with Atsumu. Still, you’ve made it this far; you refuse to allow his presence to deter you from enjoying the snow. 

The break is brief, and soon everyone is piling back into the car, arms laden with snacks and drinks. Atsumu tosses you a pack of peach gummies with a smug look. “Don’t say I never do anything nice for ya.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Thanks?” you say, but it comes out more like a question; you’re struck by the gesture but even more so by the fact that he in fact had gotten your favorite candy. “How’d you know I liked these?”

“Oh, I just got them ‘cause they’re peaches. And I like yer ass.”

Ah, there he goes, opening his big mouth and ruining everything. 

His smirk widens, and he shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Y’know, if yer cold, they say body heat is the best way ta stay warm. Maybe we should try—”

You shove him away. “Keep your theories to yourself. I’m not interested.” You’re frowning again, staring outside the window with a refreshed intensity. 

It’s infuriating how he does nice things as if he cares about you when he’s really just the world’s biggest fuckboy. He is pretty and he knows it, so it’s not some random mistake that he spends half his time charming girls into dropping their panties. In a fraternity already known for being Man Sluts™, he really does stand out as the biggest one of all because everywhere Miya Atsumu goes, broken hearts inevitably follow.

He grins as if your hostility is just another game for him to win—because he’s an instigator, he doesn’t let up. “C’mon, we’re stuck together anyway. Might as well get close, babe.” His tone is mocking, and you can feel his eyes on you even with your gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Why? ‘Cause ya know ya like it?”

“Because I have a name, Atsumu,” you snap, plugging in your earbuds and turning up your music loud enough to drown out everything and everyone (and especially Atsumu) around you.

Yui and Aran sigh. They had been the only ones to agree to take you two, and even their patience is wearing thin. The rest of the drive to the AirBnB continues in a similarly miserable pattern—moments of near silence punctuated by Atsumu’s insufferable comments and your equally sharp retorts. By the time you arrive, everyone’s a little cranky except Atsumu, as obnoxiously cheery as ever.

The sole saving grace is that the cabin is just as charming as you’d hoped. With the INA’s additional funds, the AirBnB is significantly nicer than any you’ve stayed at before. Nestled in a small clearing, it’s a picturesque retreat with smoke gently curling from the chimney and warm lights glowing from the windows: altogether, it’s a two-story, wood-paneled beauty that looks like it was plucked straight from a Christmas postcard. The surrounding forest is peaceful, there’s a gorgeously still lake just past the trees, and the snow-covered opening glistens under the setting sun as the car finally comes to a slow in the stone-lined parking space. 

You step out of the car, stretching your legs and taking a deep breath; the thin snow sinks under your sneakers as you retrieve your duffel bag from the trunk. Atsumu, of course, makes a show of grabbing his own luggage with exaggerated effort, smirking at you as he hefts a comically oversized yellow suitcase over his shoulder.

“Need any help, princess?” he asks, his tone dripping with mock concern.

“I got it, thanks,” you reply curtly, not bothering to mask your irritation. You start towards the cabin, eager to claim your room and escape the tension of the car ride.

Inside is even cozier than it looked from the outside. The living room has a large stone fireplace, plush leather couches, and a comforting red-brick aesthetic; the kitchen is spacious and modern, with a large island perfect for group meals. The centerpiece of the house is the tall Christmas tree in the center, already adorned with twinkling lights and ornaments; there are no gifts under the tree yet, however, because Chizuru has made one of the ongoing activities for the trip to sneakily buy or make everyone else a gift. They’ll show up, little by little, over the break, but you imagine by the time Christmas actually rolls around, it’ll be overflowing.

Mao and Kita, the two other drivers, have both arrived with their cohorts, so the cabin is officially full of life. Both the fraternity e-board and sorority e-board are exploring the amenities; you know from the listing that there’s a game room and hot tub somewhere, so you’re sure they’re seeking those out. You, however, are focused on something else. You’re too busy looking for the room Chizuru has assigned you, praying to every god you know that you aren’t placed near the human embodiment of a rash. 

When you find your room, you drop your bag at your feet and sigh peacefully. It’s a single on the short end of the hallway, with a queen-sized bed and a lovely balcony that overlooks the snowy forest. There’s only one other room on this end, and what are the chances of that being—

“Oi, princess, I guess we’re neighbors!” Atsumu whoops, walking towards you from down the hall, waving dramatically and now lugging two suitcases, his obnoxious yellow one and an identical one in gray.

Apparently a hundred percent. The world does in fact hate you, and you’re sure now that this is definitely going to be the worst winter break you’ve ever had.

three.

It turns out that not only is Atsumu loud when you’re awake, but he’s loud when you’re trying to sleep too. 

The walls of the cabin are remarkably thin for the whole aesthetic being wood-planks and brick, so much of your first night is spent with your pillow pressed over your head, trying desperately to drown out the loud conversations echoing from next door. The Miya twins are sharing the double room next to you, and despite your best attempts to muffle them, apparently Atsumu speaks at the volume of a F9 fighter jet, because you can hear every time he laughs. 

When you see the clock tick past 1 AM and they still haven’t stopped talking, you are done. You give up on the idea of them shutting up on their own, and you need sleep—you’re an absolute terror without it. So you do the only thing you can think to do: get up out of bed, march yourself over there, bang on the door and demand them to please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up. 

You bang on the door with more force than you intended, each knock echoing down the hallway (you’re thankful the other rooms are on the opposite end). After a few seconds that feel like forever, the noise inside finally ceases, and the door swings open. There stands Osamu, wearing nothing but a pair of gray boxers with a simultaneously perplexed and annoyed expression on his face. He looks like he’s been pulled from the midst of the most intense discussion of his life—his hair disheveled, a hint of confusion flickering across his features as he registers who’s on the other side of the door.

“What’s so important thatcha gotta bang down our door at one in the mornin’?” he asks, his tone more curious than irritated.

Despite the cold creeping in around your slippers, you feel a flush spread across your cheeks—and it’s unfortunately not from the chill. It’s hard not to notice his well-defined muscles and the way his boxers sit so nicely on his hips; all the INA boys are sculpted like art and it’s part of why they’re such a popular fraternity on campus. Still, regardless of how hot he may be, your exhaustion and frustration are quick to overshadow any hint of attraction.

“So you do know it’s one AM! In case you two didn’t know, most normal people are trying to sleep at this hour,” you snap, trying not to look at how the dim hallway light casts shadows across his abs. It’s honestly a shame that this is the bane of your existence and his grayscale clone you’re talking about. “Including me, and I can’t do that with the Miyas recreating a live studio audience next door.”

Osamu’s expression softens a bit, actually looking slightly apologetic, and he leans against the door frame, crossing his arms. “Ah, sorry ‘bout that. Guess we got carried away.”

Behind him, you catch a glimpse of Atsumu, just as minimally clad, who has now paused in the midst of grabbing a snack from their cluttered table. He truly is cursed to be a demon trapped inside a beautiful body. He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between you and his brother, licking his lips before he teases, “Ya know, princess, ya could always join us. M’bed’s got room for two.”

Osamu glances back at his twin, rolling his eyes slightly before returning his attention to you. “Bro, seriously?” He sighs, but you can see the hint of a smirk playing on his lips as well.

“No thanks,” you mutter, crossing your arms and standing your ground, determined not to let Atsumu’s pointed commentary distract you from your mission. “Don’t need your help cuddling me to sleep. Just shut up, please.”

Atsumu strides over to the door to stand next to his brother, grinning as he eyes you up and down. “C’mon, babe. We’re just havin’ a bit of fun. What’s a few more minutes, ey? Besides, ya look cute in yer bunny slippers.”

“I hate you. And I told you to stop calling me stupid nicknames,” you huff. In your initial moment of rage, you forgot you’re standing there in just your fluffy slippers and polka-dot pajama set. “Just be quiet so I can sleep.”

Osamu chuckles, clearly amused, but still he takes a step back and drags Atsumu with him. “Alright, alright, we’ll keep it down, promise. Ain’t our intention ta keep a pretty girl like you up all night—unless, of course, that’s what yer aimin’ for.”

The joke sends a wave of heat across your face, but you manage a quick, “Shut up,” before turning on your heel and heading back to your room. As you walk away, you hear the soft thud of the door closing and the remnants of their now blessedly muffled voices.

Back in your own room, you climb back into bed, pull the covers up to your chin, and stare at the ceiling, willing your heartbeat to calm down. “Stupid Miyas,” you mutter to yourself, rolling over and burying your face in your pillow.

It’s going to be a long night.

***

The next morning, Mao is the first to point out your dark circles. 

It had been a struggle to wake up this morning, given how you had hardly slept; when your phone, blasting a cheery Ohayo, Ohayo! alarm, obnoxiously alerted you to start the day, you almost threw it across the room. You are bleary-eyed and extremely grumpy, so when she gasps at your appearance over breakfast, you are quick to react.

“I look exhausted because I am, Mao,” you snark back, rubbing at your temples in an attempt to ward off the impending headache. It doesn’t work. “Thanks to the Miya twins and their late-night comedy show, I barely got any sleep.”

You feel bad for snapping at your best friend—after all, she had only been concerned. But thankfully, she doesn’t seem to take any offense to your tone; she just sympathetically nods and slides a steaming cup of coffee your way. “Well, hopefully, today will be less noisy. Maybe the activities will tire them out.” 

You doubt it, but you’ll take whatever peace you can get.

 ***

The morning actually passes relatively uneventfully because Aran and Chizuru, as the secretaries, have put together a tight itinerary that’s meant to keep you all moving. From a group hike to tubing to a stop at the holiday market to ending the night with board games, they have everything fleshed out. But somehow, Atsumu still manages to find every opportunity to get under your skin. From bumping into you “accidentally” during the hike to stealing your pink tube right at the top of the slide to buying the stall’s last Mt. Iwate snow globe you had been eyeing, by the end of the day, you are practically stomping into the cabin. You are seething for an opportunity to execute revenge.

Said opportunity makes itself present when the group gathers around the large dining table for Pictionary after dinner. Chizuru draws names from a hat to decide teams, and you end up paired with Osamu—you can’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at your partner. Osamu is focused and competitive, just like you, and despite his contribution to the teasing and noise last night, you know he’s just as enthusiastic about beating his brother as you are.

The game starts off lightheartedly, with everyone laughing and shouting guesses as each pair takes turns drawing. When it’s Osamu’s turn, he pulls a card and starts sketching quickly; he draws a round shape with spiky hair and you squint, confused.

“Um… a pineapple… a sun?” you guess tentatively, but Osamu shakes his head and continues, his hand moving frantically to add more details—a few lines here, a few there. “A duck?”

Osamu keeps drawing and you keep futilely guessing, until finally, he adds two distinctive eyebrows and a stupid grin that you’d recognize anywhere. The lightbulb finally clicks on in your mind; really, you can’t believe it took you this long.

You blurt out, “An asshole!” 

The room falls silent for a beat before everyone (excluding Atsumu, of course) erupts into boisterous laughter. Even Kita is smiling—and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him express real emotion. Osamu’s face positively lights up, and he gives you an enthusiastic high five.

Atsumu, though momentarily stunned, quickly retorts, “Oi! I’m right here, ya know!”

Chizuru, being game coordinator, tries to maintain some semblance of order. She coughs into her hand, trying not to laugh, as she says, “Technically, she’s not wrong based on the drawing, but let’s stick to the actual prompts, please.”

Osamu all but wipes a tear from his eye. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding up the little card that says in all caps, [ YELLOW ].

“The fuck? How’s me even relate ta that?” Atsumu scoffs. 

Osamu shrugs mock-innocently, but the shit-eating grin on his face gives him away. “I dunno, jus’ came to mind. Maybe it’s yer hair.”

Yui giggles beside Atsumu, who is glaring daggers at his twin. “Well, at least you’re… memorable,” she says, patting her partner on the shoulder.

“Yeah, memorable for being an ass,” you retort, trying to suppress your own laughter.

The game moves on, even as the laughter continues; despite Atsumu’s ongoing and constant attempts to throw you off, you and Osamu manage to rack up a respectable number of points. And you do so again and again, even when Atsumu declares a team rematch in the form of Codenames and Uno; the camaraderie with Osamu comes shockingly naturally and by the time you have finished playing rematches with all the available games in the rec room, you are practically in sync. 

Osamu is easy to work with. You two work together to get on Atsumu’s nerves and you can tell the blonde is boiling. He competes with Osamu at an intensity you haven’t even seen before from him—you chalk it up to sibling rivalry, though you wouldn’t know for sure.

Then, when your team is declared as the official overall second place (after Kita and Aran—who would’ve guessed), Osamu scoops you up into a brief hug; your feet come six inches off the ground and you gasp at the unexpected embrace. A blush spreads across your cheeks when he settles you down because Yui and Chizuru are squealing so loud you think the rest of the sorority can probably hear it from Tokyo, 543.5 kilometers away. You don’t even have it in you to make eye contact with the bemused younger Miya twin, so you keep your eyes steadfast on the ground. His arm is residually slung around your shoulders; he leans much of his weight against you when he does.

You’re okay with it though. Osamu’s arms are just as toned and yummy as they look.

four.

Over the next week, you find yourself getting to know the gray-haired Miya more and more. He makes breakfast for everyone in the mornings without fail, and you’re an early bird, so more often than not, you two end up alone in the kitchen before the light has fully woken up the cabin. Osamu is thoughtful, considerate—he’s so naturally comforting and sincere, down to his smallest movements. He listens more than he talks. He makes people feel heard. He takes care of the people around him. He doesn’t flirt with you or provoke you or leave you breathless. He is nice. 

You think that you like him. 

One morning, Osamu is telling you a story about learning to cook because at twelve years old Atsumu almost burnt down the kitchen while trying to make eggs, when Atsumu (further proof he really is a demon because he was summoned on cue, Beetlejuice-style) groggily stumbles into the room in the humble pursuit of coffee.

He blinks, registering what he’s seeing, his eyes flickering between you and his twin confusedly. “Why’re ya here?” he asks, sounding almost accusatory. “Why’re ya canoodlin’ at seven in the mornin’?”

You snort. “We are not canoodling,” you mock, resting your head in your palm, leaning on the kitchen island. “Osamu’s just telling me about the time you almost burned down your house.”

Atsumu’s head snaps at an insane speed to look at his brother, a boyish look of embarrassment and betrayal all over his face. “‘Samu, what’re ya spillin’ that for?” he whines. This action makes you smile even more: the mental picture of little Atsumu setting off smoke alarms while Osamu calmly puts out the flames behind him only becomes more vivid when you imagine Atsumu pouting and in tears. It mitigates his irritating personality, even if just by a bit. 

Osamu, noticing his twin’s flustered state, gives a nonchalant shrug. “Just sharin’ some childhood memories,” he replies smoothly, a glint of mischief in his eyes that you don’t catch.

Atsumu narrows his eyes at his brother but doesn’t say anything, instead turning his attention to the coffee pot. As Osamu adds more and more silly details and your conversation continues, Atsumu’s demeanor… shifts. The embarrassment fades, replaced by a subtle, tightening jawline, his eyes darting between you and his brother; he looks irritated. Is he really that mad at having his childhood mishaps dragged into the light? 

The thought of him as a kid is actually kinda cute, though you suspect that if you told him this, Atsumu’s ego would inflate so large he’d float into outer space.

“Really, ‘Tsumu, it was like you were tryna to summon a fire spirit with that stove,” Osamu teases, slicing fresh strawberries with a chef’s finesse. He shoots you a playful wink. “Had’ta save our house from becoming a pile of ash. Ma’ almost killed us both!”

Atsumu huffs, pouring himself a cup of coffee, the steam swirling between you. “Cut it out, ‘Samu. Don’t need ya makin’ her think I was a total menace as a kid,” he shoots back, his tone playful yet strained.

You laugh at their banter. “Well, you’re still one now, so I don’t know,” you smirk, leaning towards Atsumu. “Maybe Osamu’s just the better brother.”

Atsumu shoots a playful glare at his brother, but when his gaze falls back on you, it lingers just a bit longer than necessary. “Just in the kitchen,” he mutters, but there’s a noticeable edge to his voice. He grabs an extra mug from the cabinet, setting both it and a little container of cream cups and sugar packets down in front of you before pouring you a fresh cup. “The usual?”

“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly; it doesn’t quite click that Atsumu knows your coffee order by heart. “It’s nice you guys always had each other growing up, huh? I mean, you’re lucky you’ve got Osamu around to keep you out of trouble,” you tease. 

As Atsumu locates some cinnamon sticks and mixes your coffee, his expression hardens. “Yea, lucky me,” he says, his tone dry. He slides the cup toward you with a careful nudge. “‘Samu’s the saint ‘nd the hero, always has been.”

Osamu chuckles from his spot by the counter. “Oi, ya ain’t gotta sell yerself short, ‘Tsumu. Ya got yer moments... they’re just hidden very, very deep,” His voice is light, but you sense an underlying seriousness that suggests he’s proud of his twin more than he lets on.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter and sipping his coffee, eyes trained on watching you stir yours. “Can’t ya ‘ave told some of those magical stories to her then? Had ta keep it on ma failures?” 

You eye him over the mug, playful. “I mean… you tell me plenty about your moments. I like hearing about your weaknesses.”

A sly smirk creeps onto Osamu’s face. “Oh, don’t cha worry yer pretty head. I’ve got lotsa stories ‘bout ‘Tsumu,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder, the touch light but enough to make you aware of his presence.

Glancing up at Osamu in your surprise, you happen to miss the way Atsumu’s jaw clenches, his grip on his coffee cup tightening until his knuckles turn white. You happen to miss the way his frown settles deeper on his face. Above all, you happen to miss the way his glare at Osamu darkens with annoyance, with something that burns with more than just sibling rivalry, and the way Osamu grins right back. 

five.

“I think I like Osamu.”

Mao squints at you from her spot at the foot of your bed, peering up momentarily from her debate on which pair of pants to wear. “Girl what? Wrong Miya.”

“I knew you were gonna say that!” you groan into your hands. You had called your best friend over for the primary purpose of helping you pick out your outfit for the activities today (a walk through Morioka and hitting up a food market for dinner), but honestly, you’re starting to regret it. It really would’ve been easier to have just spun a wheel or something, because Mao has not been helpful in anything besides causing you more agony. “You watch too many k-dramas. I hate Atsumu!”

“Bitch, please,” Mao scoffs. Like a true friend, she does not tolerate any of your bullshit and says things as they are, blunt and completely honest. And like a truer fake friend, she’s been #TeamAtsumu since day one because she’s convinced that the Universe constantly bringing you together is the real life equivalent of Our Beloved Summer (but in college). “Hate is such a strong word. You don’t hate him. What you guys have is sexual tension.”

You want to let out a visceral scream. “That is not true. He’s just…”

“‘Stupidly pretty and gets on your nerves’, yeah yeah, I know,” Mao finishes your sentence with a shit-eating grin. “Have you ever considered just riding his dick to get the feelings out?”

Glaring at her does nothing besides make her smile grow even bigger. 

“I’m not going to ride his dick because even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to find it. Y’know he keeps saying he packs eight? As if he would have both an eight-pack and eight inches. The universe wouldn’t do that. Atsumu’s gotta be nerfed somehow, right?” you ramble, half annoyed and half trying to stop imagining him naked. 

“I can see the rated X thoughts in your head, lovebug.”

“Whatever. How did we even get to this? The point is that Osamu’s nice to me. Super respectful. Why wouldn’t I like him?” 

Mao shrugs. “Yeah, he’s a sweetie. But like… I don’t know. I don’t think he’s right for you.”

“You suck. Who do you think you are?” you glower.

“I’m your fucking twin flame, give me my respect,” she snorts, not getting a reply because you both know she’s right. She then holds up two pairs of jeans—one dark-wash, one light-wash, but otherwise virtually identical—and stares them down like her life depends on it. “But anyway. Just don’t think you’re meant for a nice guy, y’know? In fact, I think Atsumu makes you better.”

You gape at her, in utter disbelief she could even say those words out loud. “Be so fuckin’ serious. Better? He, like, thrives off my rage.”

“Right, and you thrive off competition,” she replies boredly, tossing the light-wash pair over her shoulder and standing to wiggle the other on. “I’m telling you, Atsumu gets under your skin in a way no one else can–”

“You’re getting real close,” you interrupt, earning yourself a pointed look.

“Shut up. As I was saying, Atsumu gets under your skin, challenges you, and that lights a fire under your ass. Makes you wanna prove him wrong, prove yourself right. And that’s what makes you better. Makes you both better.”

“It’s like you want me to be miserable.”

She snorts. “Of course not. I’m just saying, for someone so hellbent on hating Atsumu, you sure spend a lot of time talking about him. I mean, really, do you even hear yourself?” She spins around, both to show you the fit and to mock you with little hand gestures. “‘I hate Atsumu, Atsumu this, Atsumu that, Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu.’ It’s like you have a little shrine dedicated to him in your mind.”

“You’re delusional,” you mutter, even though you know her words have at least some truth in them. “I don’t care about him.”

What a lie. It’s a lie and both of you know it, because Mao squints at you, hands on her hips. “Look, all I’m saying is, you can try to sell me on Osamu all you want—he’s nice, he’s sweet, he respects you, blah blah blah. But are you sure it’s him you actually like?”

You freeze, her question slicing through your defenses like a knife. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turns to face you, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised like she’s ready to dismantle you piece by piece. “I mean, are you into Osamu? Or do you just like the idea of him because it’s easier than dealing with whatever weird, messy thing you’ve got going on with his brother?”

You blink at her, completely thrown off balance. “That’s—that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” she fires back, her tone casual but sharp. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re running from something.”

“I—” You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue. You’re not sure what to say because, annoyingly, she’s not entirely wrong. She never really is.

You’re truly blessed in this world because you and Mao were random suitemates who coincidentally rushed the same sorority freshman year and have been inseparable ever since. She’s the IVP to your EVP, the peanut butter to your jelly, the Starfire to your Raven, and your real mothafuckin’ OG because she’s been there for you through literally everything. Right now, however, it means she has the ability to brutally call you out like she can read your mind with X-Ray vision, straight down to your thinly veiled thoughts about Atsumu’s abs.

Mao gives you a knowing look, pulling her phone from her pocket to check the time, a helpful reminder that you in fact do have things to do today besides sit around and mope. She dusts off her outfit one last time, before heading towards the door. “Look, think about it. You clearly don’t not care about him. And c’mon, lovebug. All these ‘random’ run-ins since then? Not so random when you think about it. The Chem partners, maybe. But you two at formal? Matching during blind dating two years in a row? The universe isn’t subtle, babe.”

You are hating this call out. It’s such an accurate read that you feel annoyed that she’s able to just put it in the world like this when you have spent the last two years trying to choke it down. The truth in Mao’s words sting; you can’t even argue because every random encounter with Atsumu feels less like coincidence and more like the cosmos relishing in your anguish.

“Why did it have to be him?” you mutter, more to yourself than to Mao. “Why’d the universe pick him of all people?”

Mao snorts. “Because he’s an idiot, just like you. You’re probably the only two people in the world who could pull off two and a half years of weird, messed up pining.”

You roll your eyes, but finally, you allow yourself a small smile; Mao really is the only one who can simultaneously call you out for everything you’ve been trying to ignore but also make you feel seen in ways that no one else can. It’s the brutal honesty, the tough love that she delivers without sugarcoating it, that makes you value her words even when they sting.

“Fine, maybe you have a point,” you admit begrudgingly, much to her thrill—which you promptly kill by waggling your finger in her face. “I do care about him. But Osamu’s really sweet to me and… I dunno. I promise I’ll think about it.”

“And that’s all I’m asking for, babygirl. If you do actually like Osamu, I’ll support you—I mean, he’s hot and makes fire pancakes,” Mao shrugs nonchalantly. “But when you end up with Atsumu, I’m gonna tell you I told you so.”

You scowl at her. “I said I’d think about it. That does not mean I’m going to suddenly start confessing my undying love for Atsumu.”

“I don’t expect that!” Mao says, faux innocence dripping from her voice. “Because I already know you will next time you drunk make-out with him at a kickback.”

She’s instantly hit in the head with a pillow (the first thing throwable you could reach), cackling boisterously like she’s told the funniest joke in the world. That’s it. It’s official. As of this moment, you are officially confirming it: it’s time to find a new best friend. 

six.

It’s the perfect night to unwind.

It’s been a long enough day of playing tourist. The rest of the fraternity and sorority boards finished several cases of beer and a handle of Tito’s over dinner, so they’ve long retreated into their rooms; you’re the sole person still lingering awake. All things considered, you’ve been high-strung all week (worsened now—thanks Mao!), so even if you were to try, you probably couldn’t sleep anyway. So you opt for the best relaxation method you’ve got at the moment: breaking in the good ‘ol hot tub.

It’s a decent size and takes up almost all of the back veranda, sans a small patio space—under the open sky, the air is chilly and you can see the snow-covered landscape extending for what feels like miles. The setting is so calm, so beautiful and something right now feels so immaculately undisturbed, it really is the perfect night. You have donned your favorite bikini, turned on the jets, and set the water to the hottest setting; your eyes are fluttering shut in an attempt to find some peace. The sound of the water bubbles and cracks around you, and you can feel your muscles start to ease.

This is exactly what you wanted from your winter break: a chance to loosen up.

But good things aren’t meant to last, and especially not when the very premise of this vacation is to make sure you can never catch a break, because the tranquility is quickly disrupted by the sounds of footsteps crunching across the wood-paneled porch. You pry open your eyes to find Atsumu approaching the hot tub, a huge smirk spread across his face. He’s wearing dark blue board shorts and carries a towel slung casually over his shoulder; without waiting for an invitation, he dips a toe into the water, then with a satisfied nod, slips in across from you.

The universe hates you, clearly. 

“Fancy seein’ ya here, princess,” he teases, the warm water swirling around as he settles in.

You roll your eyes, trying to avoid the flutter in your chest that starts up again seeing him. “Can’t you find someone else to bother?”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that. Just thought it’d be nice to join ya. The night’s too pretty to spend alone,” he says, flashing a stunning grin that you suspect has melted many hearts before yours. A pompous, arrogant fuckboy to his core.

“Well, you’ve seen the night, you can leave now.”

Atsumu chuckles, unfazed. “Nah, I think I’ma stay. Matter-a-fact, why don’t I get reeeaaall close…” he trails off, inching closer to your side.

You splash him with your hand in prompt retaliation. He laughs, dodging the splash as if he’d anticipated it all along—probably because Atsumu thrives on your attention and revels in your irritation. 

“You’re so annoying.”

“One of my most charmin’ qualities, ey?” he smirks.

“No.” 

“Well you’re still ‘ere, so… at least a part of ya definitely likes it,” he says, his eyebrows doing an absurd dance that pulls an involuntary smile from you. “See? Yer even smilin’! I got the great ‘nd stoic princess ta smile! I can die happy now.”

As much as Atsumu infuriates you, your lips truly do betray you: you suppose he can be funny… sometimes. “Then please, do us all a favor and die.”

“Awh, but then who’ll keep ya company?” he simpers, sickeningly sweet. 

“I’ll call Osamu down here to join me.”

Atsumu’s face falls. “Ya kiddin’? ‘Samu’ll bore ya half ta death. He ain’t hold a candle to my glitterin’ personality.”

You snort. “We have plenty of conversations in the mornings when you’re not even awake.”

“Right, right. Ya mean yer conversations ‘bout me?” Atsumu says challengingly. 

The argument you were about to make fades away as it hits you—he’s kind of right. Most of your chats with Osamu do end up circling back to him. This realization irks you because it suggests one of two things: your growing interest in Osamu is just a misplaced fixation on his brother, or you do think about Atsumu far more than you’d care to admit. Either and both implications are terrible. You scowl, “Shut up. I don’t need you to spice things up.”

His eyes light up, and you prepare yourself because he’s clearly just come up with a terrible idea. “Oi, wanna really make things interesting?”

“What?”

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Atsumu suggests, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Are you kidding? No.” 

“C’mon,” he pouts exaggeratedly, his lower lip comically jut out. “We’ll have fun. Unless yer scared or somethin’.”

Your eyes narrow. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to play your dumbass game.” 

“Scared, ya definitely scared,” he taunts, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head, clearly settling in for the long haul. “Afraid I’ll make ya fall for me? Afraid ya can’t handle it?”

You glare at him. He’s obviously provoking you, but God, is it frustratingly difficult not to rise to the bait when he’s giving you that smug, self-serving look. “Ugh, fine. Whatever. I don’t care.”

Atsumu’s grin widens; he looks so infuriatingly triumphant. “Great. So truth or dare, princess?”

Considering your choices, you pause for a moment before sighing. “Truth.”

You expect something insincere or flirty, maybe a dumb innuendo he’s definitely practiced before on countless other girls. You’re prepared to be pissed off by whatever he’s got to say, because Atsumu is a man of many talents, the best of which is making you mad.

Then he just asks, “What’s yer secret talent?”

“A secret talent?” you echo; you’re caught off-guard by the lack of underlying implications. 

“Yea, somethin’ ya can do that ya haven’t told anyone ‘bout,” Atsumu clarifies, leaning in with genuine curiosity. You contemplate momentarily, before you let out a slow, deep sigh. At the end of the day, it’s an innocent enough question; you suppose that since you know so many embarrassing stories about Atsumu (again, courtesy of Osamu), it’s only fair you tell him something embarrassing about you.

“If you make fun of me, I will actually kill you,” you mutter, though the threat carries no real weight when your face is as flushed as it is. “But um… I know a bunch of magic tricks. Like cards and stuff.”

“Honest?” Atsumu’s eyes practically pop out of their sockets—it seems a bit overdramatic, but he prods further, as if genuinely fascinated by this tidbit of information you’ve just shared with him. “Why’d ya learn? Will ya show me?”

Your cheeks burn hotter. “I um… I wanted to be a magician when I was little. I even tried to convince my parents to get me a bunny, but they said it’d be cruel to just keep it in my hat,” you admit, your voice small under the intense scrutiny of his gaze. He bursts into laughter at this revelation, and you find yourself oddly proud of it. “And I dunno. Maybe? If you get me a deck of cards, I guess I could—but no one else can know, okay? You gotta keep it a secret just for us.”

Atsumu’s face widens until he positively beams. “Deal! I’ll get ya a deck of cards,” he declares, already plotting where to find one. “Neva woulda expected that from ya, princess. That’s amazin’! Can’t wait to see what ya got.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t even fake annoyance when Atsumu’s excitement is so damn contagious. By no means had you expected him to react like that, but it does make the game more bearable and you more at ease. “Fine, but remember, not a word to anyone.”

“Cross ma heart,” he replies, drawing an exaggerated ‘X’ over his chest with his finger. He leans back, his face alight with glee at his newfound secret. “Alright, alright, yer turn. Ask me.”

“Well, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Pouting, you think carefully about your question before shrugging half-heartedly. “I don’t really know what to ask you. If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Pussy,” Atsumu says wistfully, his eyes dreamy. 

You shoot him a look. “You must like getting splashed.”

“Only if it’s by yer pretty p–” His sentence cuts off because you in fact have begun to thrash around in the water, kicking wild waves in his direction. Atsumu raises his arms in mock surrender, laughing even as he wipes the water from his face. “Alright, alright, just messin’ with ya, swear! For real though. If I hadta pick just one thing, it’d just be ‘Samu’s onigiri. He’s got magic in ‘is hands, honest.”

Catching your breath, you can’t help but chuckle, your arms crossed as you float in the shallows of the tub. “That’s surprisingly wholesome of you, admitting Osamu’s the better cook. You're proud deep down, huh?”

He shrugs, but the corners of his mouth turn up. “Yea, sadly gotta give ‘Samu that one. But don’t go spreadin’ that ‘round, don’t want him gettin’ a big head.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you promise, mocking his same theatrical ‘X’, feeling the tension ease slightly between you two. Squaring your shoulders, you nod. “Alright, your turn. Dare.”

The word barely leaves your mouth before Atsumu’s expression brightens. He leans closer, his voice dropping to say conspiratorially, “Call me a nickname ‘til the game ends.”

You snort. “I already do, dumbass. I’m princess, you’re dumbass. That’s just the way it goes.”

“No!” Atsumu whines, scooting closer to your side of the tub. “Call me something cute. Like honey or pumpkin or–”

“I’ll call you babe and that’s the most you’ll get,” you interrupt warningly, and obediently, he stops talking, nodding away like an oversized bobble head with a stupidly cute smile on his face—honestly, his simplemindedness is impressive. “So, babe–” you pause to wince at the nickname, unfamiliar and strange but not necessarily bad on your tongue. “–truth or dare?”

He licks his lips before he answers, which involuntarily draws your gaze to them; you shift your stare up to his warm brown eyes instead. Under the sky, Atsumu’s eyes seem to collect the very stars above. And when he’s looking at you like that, you have a flash in your chest, and you think that either A) you’re having a heart attack, or the much worse option, B) you definitely don’t not care about him.

seven.

You and Atsumu have managed to play this stupid game for hours.

And you know this for two reasons: first because you two have already made it two-and-a-half times around the cycle of 1) getting out of the tub with pruney toes, 2) settling on the patio couches, and 3) complaining of cold and getting back in the tub. Second: you’ve exhausted all small-talk options and resigned into the deep shit—deep shit being increasingly stupid stories and dumb dares. You’ve sprinted to the end of the yard and admitted your deep fear of squirrels, Atsumu has belted Perfect by One Direction and confessed that he once replaced Osamu’s protein powder with flour, and neither of you can remember the last time you’ve laughed so hard. It’s strange: by the time you’re asking Atsumu his next truth, your cheeks hurt from smiling and conversation comes more than easily.

“Okay, okay, what’s the dumbest thing that you’ve ever done to impress someone?” you ask, nudging his side a little with your foot.

You’re nestled into the opposite ends of the same couch, the firepit fully ablaze beside you (Atsumu struggled for twenty minutes to get it alight). The couch isn’t quite long enough for you both to extend fully even while sitting up, so your legs have ended up slotted between his and your heel is now resting comfortably on his thigh; he’s fiddling mindlessly with your anklet as he grumbles, “As if ‘Samu ain’t already told ya all my stories.” 

But he pauses momentarily to think anyway. When he’s apparently decided on what to tell you, he averts his gaze from yours with sheepish eyes. “One year, for my ma’s birthday, I wanted ta get this real pretty flower from the top of a tree cause ‘Samu made her a fancy schmancy breakfast. Ended up fallin’ and breakin’ my arm, didn’t even get the flower either. Ma told me it was okay, but I bawled the whole way home from the ER cause I wanted her ta have a nice gift.”

“You’re joking! Over a flower?” you gasp out, even as Atsumu’s face scrunches up, halfway between embarrassment and amusement—your stomach hurts with every breath you take, but you can’t stop your laughter. 

“Oi, it was a real nice flower!” he defends, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite the bashful story. “‘Nd ‘Samu was actin’ all high-n-mighty with his eggs benedict or whatever. I had ta do something.”

The image of a young Atsumu, just as determined and headstrong even back then, a boy who would climb a tree for his mother, who would risk everything to make her smile, who cried because he wanted to do something nice for her, warms you more than the hot tub ever could. 

“Well, babe, if it makes you feel better, I think the effort was sweet,” you pause, savoring the pink on his cheeks at both the pet name and your response. “Stupid, but really sweet.”

“Shaddup, it’s yer turn. Truth or dare?” he asks, still pouting.

Midway through your consideration on what to pick, you get distracted by the way the firelight crackles and casts flickering shadows across Atsumu’s face. His eyes are always beautiful, but right now, they glow like pools of honey and amber. His hair is fluffy and tousled and damp from the tub and he’s wearing just his swimsuit, sans the towel thrown hazardously around his shoulders. You swear to yourself to never tell him, but you want to commit this image of him to memory forever, pretty and human and yours alone.

Atsumu smirks, the rosy tint on his cheeks deepening as he catches you staring. “What’s the matter? See somethin’ ya like?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful mischief as he leans in a little closer, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “Yer gonna drool starin’ like that.”

“Fuck off, I was not staring,” you lie blatantly, flushed at his calling you out. “I was just thinking about what to say.”

“Cause I stole ya breath away?”

You glare at him. “About whether to say truth or dare, dumbass.”

“Don’t call me dumbass! Call me babe,” he whines. “‘nd ya still ain’t picked.”

“Fine, truth.”

“Then admit the truth that ya can’t resist me.”

“Oh my god,” you huff, crossing your arms across your chest; truly, he ruins his natural beauty by opening his mouth. “Ask me a question I can answer, please.”

Atsumu chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. “Fine, fine. I’ll letcha keep yer pride,” he grins, his eyes twinkling in the firelight as he contemplates the perfect question to unravel you a bit more. “Fine. Why d’ya hate me so much anyway?”

You blink, caught completely off guard by Atsumu’s question. Of all the things he could have asked, this wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Why do I hate you so much?” you echo, stalling for time, though your voice wavers ever so slightly.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning in slightly, the firelight casting shadows across his face. There’s a flicker of something unreadable in his expression—something serious, something that makes your chest feel uncomfortably tight. “C’mon, princess, spill it. You’ve called me an idiot, a dumbass, and everythin’ in between. Gotta be somethin’ behind it, right?”

He’s teasing, but his voice is softer now, his usual bravado dimmed. And suddenly, it doesn’t feel like a game anymore.

Your first instinct is to brush him off, to joke, to deflect—because isn’t that what the two of you always do? But this time, for reasons you don’t entirely understand, you hesitate.

“I…” You glance down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your towel, anything to avoid the weight of his gaze. “I mean… hate is a strong word.”

He leans back slightly, but the intensity in his eyes doesn’t waver. “Yeah? Then what’s all the name-callin’ and eye-rollin’ about?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Because you’re annoying! You’re cocky, you’re loud, and you always find a way to get under my skin.” You pause, lowering your hands to glance at him, and there’s an odd mix of frustration and amusement in your tone as you continue. “But... somehow, you make everything fun. Even when I don’t want to have fun.”

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“And I dunno…” You swallow, the words sticking in your throat. “It’s just that you’re... you’re so…” You trail off, waving your hands in a vague gesture, struggling to articulate what you mean without outright admitting that he’s charming, or handsome, or kind in ways you’re only just starting to notice.

Atsumu, of course, seizes the opportunity. “So irresistible?” he offers with a grin, though his voice is quiet, almost cautious.

You shoot him a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “So infuriating,” you snap, but the small, wobbly smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The fire crackles softly beside you, filling the silence, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look away from him. His usual cocky grin has softened into something warmer, something that makes your stomach flip in a way you’d rather not think about. 

Atsumu tilts his head, watching you with an expression that feels far too tender for your liking, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Y’know, princess… I think you might like me.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and dangerous, and you force out a scoff, shaking your head as you pull your legs away from his and sit up straighter, putting some much-needed distance between you. “You’re delusional, babe,” you mutter, ignoring the way your heart stumbles over itself.

But as you turn your gaze to the fire and refuse to meet his eyes, you already know you’re lying—to him, and to yourself.

eight.

A year ago, on the night of your sophomore formal, your date ghosted you last-minute with only a “can’t make it” text to explain.

You freaked out, panic-scrolled through your contacts list for who still didn’t have a date, and, after a few additional minutes of hyperventilating and really talking yourself into it, spam-called Atsumu. You hadn’t expected him to actually say yes.

He showed up at your door just in time, dressed in his nicest suit and his blonde hair combed neatly, armed with your favorite flowers just-because. And you’d told him then that he didn’t have to do this for you, that this didn’t make you two friends, that this didn’t mean anything at all—neither the dance to him nor him to you. 

But he had just smiled, that crooked, heartbreaking smile of his, and said, “Sure, sure, princess. Ain’t like I had anythin’ better to do, right?” And when he took your hand to lead you out, his touch was gentle, careful, as if he was afraid you might break if he held on too tight. At the end of the night, you had kissed him on the cheek to say thank you, and when you pulled away, he had that softness in his eyes, a mix of bravery and hope and something else you couldn’t quite place. It’s a look that’s haunted you since last winter, something that lingers in every new guy you kiss in nasty frat houses or meet on Hinge, because no one else quite looks at you like that.

And that’s terrifying. Because last night, he looked at you the exact same way, fiddling with your anklet and admitting his most vulnerable secrets, undoing your own understanding of him and his character and upending all the reasons you hate him. 

***

The next day, you are actively avoiding thinking about Atsumu, and as the afternoon fades into a soft, early evening, you find yourself in the kitchen helping Osamu prepare for dinner. Everyone’s already returned from the day trip to Morioka and are now spread throughout the cabin, recovering before eating and the planned game night after. 

The quietude of the tasks are meditative, the rhythmic peeling of potatoes matching the gentle bubbling of the curry on the stove. Osamu moves around with an effortless grace, his movements methodical and precise and deliberate; he operates so seamlessly that his presence is both comforting and slightly unnerving. Despite only being here for a little over a week, it’s like he already knows the kitchen by heart, so much so that you find yourself wondering if perhaps he is too perfect, too polished.

The room is filled with the smells of cooking and the occasional clink of utensils against bowls, a domestic symphony that should be comforting. But it’s just… not.

“Ya need any help with those?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts and you vehemently shake your head.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve got this,” you reply, though your hands continue their steady work and he ends up reaching over and taking one from the pile anyway. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, noting the way his brows furrow slightly as he focuses on his task.

The conversation flows easily enough. It meanders on safe topics, the kind that fill the air but leave little impact; you talk about college, the upcoming events for the week, and the movies Chizuru picked for the night. It’s not particularly energetic or enthusiastic, especially now that you’re acutely avoiding mentioning Atsumu (all while cursing the blonde for pointing out last night the uncomfortable fact that, yes, in fact your conversations with Osamu are always easier when Atsumu’s the topic), but it is continuous and ongoing and maybe that will do. 

“Ever thought about opening your own restaurant?” you ask, clinging to a thread of conversation that might spark more interest. Osamu’s reaction is a simple mild chuckle, a sound that lacks any real depth.

“‘Tsumu thinks I should too,” he responds without looking up from his knifework. “Maybe one day, when things settle down a bit.”

You nod, but the response doesn’t satisfy you. It’s sensible, reasonable—just like everything about Osamu. But where’s the challenge, the playful banter that Atsumu always brought into even the simplest interactions? The thought of Atsumu’s teasing, his infectious laughter, and the way he could turn even a mundane moment into a playful challenge makes you ache with a sudden intensity. 

You miss him. The realization comes unbidden, a silent whisper amid the clatter of the kitchen. It’s a missing piece that makes Osamu’s perfect attentiveness seem somehow incomplete. You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling a chill that has nothing to do with the evening air seeping through the slightly ajar kitchen window.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur. You help with cooking the rice, taste test with laughter and light conversation, but beneath it all is a current of dissonance. It’s not long before you’re wiping your hands on your apron and excusing yourself to get changed before dinner, and quietly slip upstairs.  

They say ignorance is bliss, and last night is proof. The conversation you just had with Osamu is nothing out of the ordinary, not at all different from the mornings you’ve spent together over the last week. And even now, it���s not that you don’t like Osamu, because you do. He’s good, he’s kind. He’s the kind of guy your parents would be proud of you for being with, a sort of stable and calm and reliable that’s everything you ever wanted. That’s everything you thought you ever wanted.

Somehow right now, it feels slightly hollow. 

As you step into your room, you let out a long sigh. Glancing at your phone, you briefly entertain the idea of texting Atsumu. You want to scream at him for ruining your developing feelings for his twin, blame him for destroying the tiny hint of stability you had for the week. But you don’t do that, mostly because that would be stupid to blame him for, but also because you think that if you see him right now, you might make a stupid decision you’ll end up regretting. 

nine.

Thanks to Chizuru’s insistence (it’s Christmas Eve, you have to!), you are convinced into joining tonight’s games of trivia and Jeopardy despite your misanthropy. Curse her and her supreme begging skills. You had been hoping to avoid the twins as much as humanly possible. 

Atsumu, sitting opposite you, kicks your foot. “Are ya good, princess?” he whispers when you look at him and raise your eyebrow. Aran, leading tonight, is saying something about Jeopardy rules, but it goes unheard, because the blonde in front of you continues, “Penny for ya thoughts please.”

“You don’t have a penny,” you whisper back. “Pay me for my thoughts, dumbass.”

“What kinda guy d’ya take me for?” Atsumu mock-scoffs back. “A prostitute?”

Despite all the thoughts swirling in your mind, his stupid grin distracts you from them and you end up rolling your eyes, feeling the hint of a smile pull at your lips. “Maybe. You’re already kinda a fuckboy.”

“Don’tcha worry then, ‘cause yer still ma favorite client,” he grins back. 

And you let yourself smile too.

***

The sorority ends up winning because Mao is a history major and there are no noticeable questions about agriculture or Sigmund Freud or business management or the average expenditure of calories (Kita, Suna, Osamu, and Atsumu respectively—the boys lowkey all study odd shit now that you think about it) that could allow the frat board to gain an upper hand. For the first time ever, you thank Mao for reciting her textbooks out loud to study, because now all of you are forced to have a comprehensive knowledge of war dates and Confucious. The prize for winning, however, is a Certificate of Extraordinary Intelligence in Useless Facts, so Mao has officially launched herself into a very long declaration that history is not useless, so you don’t know if there was really a winner in the end.

It’s not in the itinerary for the night, but when Yui looks out the window and points out the clear sky, everyone is quick to agree to step outside for a “breath of fresh air.” Everyone meaning everyone but Kita, who is off to pack because he’s leaving at midnight to go stay with his family nearby. Though it would be Kita to have family in the little northern sector of Iwate: you could just see him living in a town of 50 one day, leading the calm, remote village life. You’ve never been close to the president of INA, but you guess he probably deserves to live a simple farm life because the foxes absolutely owe it to him for keeping the organization together.

The crisp night wind nips at your cheeks as you leave the cabin’s warmth, but after sitting around the table for so long you feel only invigorated by the chill; it really is the perfect night because the whole sky is just a tapestry of twinkling stars. The porch light casts a gentle glow, and the snow glistens under the moonlight, gorgeous and serene.

Without warning, Atsumu scoops up a handful of snow and lobs it at Osamu, who dodges just in time, causing the snowball to hit the cabin door with a soft thud. The playful challenge is met with enthusiasm, and within moments, everyone is gathering ammunition. You’re bending down to scoop up your own snow when suddenly the shock of the cold against your warm skin causes you to let out a yelp. You spin around, eyes blazing, to find Atsumu standing there with a triumphant smirk on his face; his hand still holds some of the evidence, though most of it has been so rudely shoved down your back. 

“You jerk!” you yell, shrieking and jumping up and down, trying to shake the ice from the back of your sweater. Your tone is of annoyance, but it’s hard to stay truly mad when the whole scene is so ridiculously fun.

Atsumu is already backing away, a wild, teasing grin plastered across his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief under the moonlit night. “C’mon, princess, don’t tell me ya can’t handle a lil’ snow!” he taunts, his laughter echoing around the snowy clearing.

As if you’d let Atsumu just get away with that. So naturally, you scoop up as much snow as you can in your cold, red hands and take off sprinting after him, screaming, “Oh, you’re dead!”

The thrill of the pursuit drives away any lingering annoyance from last night; you barely even register the way your heart pounds with adrenaline and cheeks flush from the cold. The laughter of the others fades into the background as your focus narrows down to the gleeful figure darting just ahead of you. Atsumu is fast, sure, but your determination is faster, and the freshly fallen snow slows him down just enough for you to gain ground. With a determined yell, you launch your armful of snow at his back, hitting him squarely between the shoulder blades; the impact makes him stumble forward with a playful groan. “Alright, alright, I give!” he laughs when he spins to face you, raising his hands in mock defeat.

Just as you think you’ve won, just as you start laughing triumphantly and let your guard down, he’s charging back at you. You try to sidestep, but the slippery ground betrays you, and you both end up tumbling into a soft snowdrift. The world whirls into a blur of white and laughter as you wrestle in the snow, trying to pin each other down. Atsumu manages to get the upper hand briefly, pinning your wrists gently above your head with a victorious grin. His breath comes in visible puffs in the cold air, his face inches from yours, eyes sparkling with mischief and something warmer.

“You’re such a child!” you shout, breathless from both the cold and the exertion.

“You love it,” he retorts, a smug grin plastered across his face despite the snow sticking to his hair and clothes.

You roll and wrangle and as you do, Atsumu manages to push more snow down the back of your shirt, making you squeal and squirm. “Atsumu!” you shriek, half-annoyed, half-panting, mostly all laughing. Your hands are freezing, but you keep trying to shove snow into his face in retaliation until you finally manage to squish his face with a clump of snow. The rest of the group watches, cheering at your antics, thoroughly entertained by the display, but their voices go unregistered to both of you as you both fall back, exhausted and satisfied and covered in snow, looking up at the starry sky. 

As the laughter subsides and the rapid heartbeat begins to slow, you and Atsumu lie sprawled in the snow, the cold forgotten for a moment. The serene silence that falls over both of you is a rare kind of peace, something that feels close to perfect. You can see Atsumu’s chest rise and fall with each breath, his eyes reflecting the twinkling stars above, and there’s something unspoken in the way he looks at you—something that makes you feel softer, lighter, like you’re floating on air. 

You want to say something sarcastic. You want to throw more snow into his face and tell him he looks stupid. You want to be mean to him and you want him to flirt with you so you can tell him to fuck off. He’s the bane of your existence. He riles you up and makes you angrier than most other people ever could. It’s so much easier to argue with him. It’s so much easier to hate him. 

But you don’t. So you just lie there and take it in.

ten.

The moment gets stolen by a voice. 

“Oi, lovebirds, everyone’s headin’ in! Ya two plannin’ on makin’ snow angels all night, or do ya wanna join the rest of us by the fire?” Osamu calls out.

Atsumu glares in the voice’s direction, his brow creasing. The peaceful moment shatters like thin ice underfoot, and you can practically hear the crack because it’s visible in how his gaze shifts from the stars above to his brother and the tension in his grip that wasn’t there before. “Can’t ya see we’re havin’ a moment here?” he snaps back, the words almost biting through the frigid air.

Osamu, unbothered by the snap, just chuckles and strolls over, offering a hand to help you up. “Yeah, yeah, yer playin’ in the snow like a couple of kids. Let’s get inside, yer gonna catch cold.” His concern is sincere, his tone sweet. You accept the hand with a smile; when you stand fully up, Osamu wraps his arm around your shoulders and leans in close enough to mumble, “Yui told me that ya get sick easy. Got worried, hope ya ain’t too mad at me for snatchin’ ya away.”

His close presence is warmth cutting through your chill and you subconsciously lean into him. “Oh, thank you,” you say softly; he sounds so genuine. “You’re really considerate. It’s just At-”

You turn around to find Atsumu pushing himself up, brushing snow from his hair. He had been watching your quiet exchange with close eyes, and now that you really look at him again, his expression is briefly unfamiliar. It’s just for a brief second—a moment so quick it was gone in an instant—but you could have sworn it was a gaze tighter, darker, than you have ever seen from him before and it makes you shiver. It’s quick to be replaced by his usual grin when he notices your concerned expression, though, as if he’s trying to placate you. As if he doesn’t want you to know how he’s feeling. 

The snowball fight had been playful, a rare truce in your usual war of words with Atsumu, and now he seems reluctant to let that end. Still, his tone is light, or at least lighter than before, laced with a hint of forced cheerfulness, when he assures you, “S’okay, princess. Let’s get inside.”

But the sharpness in his eyes betrays his words. And as if to keep pushing him, to keep jamming his finger straight into the bruise, Osamu’s arm slips downwards to hover around your waist—it’s so delicate that you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in position if not for the way his hold ever so slightly tightens to pull you closer. 

Atsumu’s smile fades into something heavier and his hands clench into tight fists by his side and there’s a look that crosses his features, something filled with irritation; there’s a palpable tension between the two brothers that makes you nervous. Still, Osamu just smiles like he’s completely oblivious, cheerily saying, “Yeah, don’tcha worry, ‘Sumu. Just tryna keep our princess warm.”

Our princess. The words are loaded. Osamu isn’t just being kind; he’s provoking him. He’s pushing his brother, trying to see just how far Atsumu’ll let him go, trying to drive a reaction out of him. 

There’s an undeniable undercurrent of something more in the air. 

Atsumu, witnessing this, locks his jaw, his good-natured facade struggling to mask the surge of emotions that seem to whirl behind his eyes. And yet, he stops. He doesn’t say anything, even though it seemed as though he would, even though when you met his eyes there was that terrifying darkness from before. Atsumu just turns on his heel and starts marching back towards the cabin.

And for some reason you can’t quite comprehend, you feel your heart sink.

eleven.

It’s significantly quieter that night. 

Atsumu hadn’t shown up to dinner, nor did he join everyone to watch Elf in the living room. Chizuru and Aran had expressed concern, offering to go upstairs and check on him, but Osamu had assured them all that Atsumu was fine and just worn out from the day and that had seemed to placate them. You tried to trust his word too, but even as the film plays and Osamu drapes his arm onto the couch behind you and Yui nudges you and wiggles her brow at the closeness and you try to convince yourself that you’re fine, you can’t help the awful feeling of dread you have in the pit of your stomach. 

It doesn’t go away even when the movie ends and you retreat upstairs to shower and get to bed; it doesn’t go away even when you settle into the softness of your sheets and turn out the lights; it doesn’t go away even when the only illumination in the room comes from your phone as you stalk your Instagram homepage trying to distract your mind. You almost want to hear Atsumu’s overwhelmingly loud and obnoxious laughter from the next room; you want to know that he’s okay, and you don’t really even understand why. You’ve spent the last two years being an Atsumu Hater™ and here you are anyway, your heart racing. 

But just as you’re about to surrender to the warmth of your blankets, your ears pick up the muffled but unmistakable timbre of raised voices from the room next door. The Miya twins.

You sit up in bed, heart pounding. You can’t make out the words through the wall, but the low rumble of Osamu’s voice and the sharper, heated tone of Atsumu’s are unmistakable. You hesitate for a moment, caught between pressing your ear against the wall to catch more of the conversation or trying to ignore it altogether. But then Atsumu’s voice cuts through clearly, loud and raw with frustration:

“Why’re ya doin’ this, Samu? Seriously, what the hell?”

You freeze.

There’s a pause. Osamu’s voice comes next, calmer but with a sharp edge that makes the air in your room feel heavy. “Doin’ what, exactly? Bein’ nice? Spendin’ time with her? ‘Cause last I checked, you’re the one who’s been actin’ like she don’t exist unless it’s to get under her skin.”

You hear the sound of something—maybe a chair or a bed frame—scraping against the floor. Atsumu’s voice comes back, even louder. “Don’t gimme that crap! You know what I’m talkin’ about! You’ve been all over her this whole week, like you’re tryin’ to... to—”

“To what, Tsumu?” Osamu cuts in, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch even from the other side of the wall. “To do what you won’t? You’ve had two years to say somethin’, to do anythin’, but all you’ve done is act like a damn idiot around her. And now you’re mad at me ‘cause I actually treat her like a person?”

Your chest tightens. You press your hands against your mouth to stifle the sharp inhale that escapes you. Are they... talking about you?

There’s a heavy silence. For a moment, you think maybe it’s over, but then Atsumu speaks again, quieter this time, almost hesitant. “It’s not like that...”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Osamu snaps. “If it’s not like that, then why are you so pissed off, huh? If you don’t care about her, why’s it eatin’ at ya every time I so much as look at her?”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice now, though it’s tinged with something more serious. “Admit it, Tsumu. You like her. Hell, you’ve probably liked her for years, but you’re too chicken to do anything about it. So don’t come at me like I’m the bad guy when all I’m doin’ is fillin’ the space you left wide open.”

Your heart is pounding so loud you’re surprised they can’t hear it through the wall.

“I—” Atsumu starts, but his voice falters. He sounds... small. Defeated. “I don’t—”

“Yeah? Then prove it,” Osamu interrupts. “If you really don’t care, I’ll back off. But if you do? If you actually want a chance with her? Then grow up and ask her out before it’s too late.”

Another beat of silence stretches between them, so tense and thick it feels like the walls of your room might crack under the weight of it. Then there’s the sound of footsteps—heavy, frustrated—and the slam of a door.

Your mind is racing. You sit there frozen for what feels like hours, trying to piece together what you’ve just heard, what it all means, and why your heart feels like it might break free of your chest.

You glance at the door to your room, wondering if Atsumu’s stormed off to his, or if—

A knock. A soft, hesitant knock at your door.

Your breath catches.

twelve.

The knock comes again, a little louder this time, but you don’t move. You press your face into the pillow, hold your breath, and will your heartbeat to calm down. He waits for a moment, long enough that you can almost picture him standing just outside your door, shifting on his feet and second-guessing himself.

Finally, there’s a sigh, barely audible through the door. The sound makes your chest ache.

But then the floor creaks softly as he steps away, and the silence that follows feels louder than anything he could have said.

You stay like that for a long time, staring into the darkness of your room as the words from the argument next door replay in your head on an endless loop. You don’t know how to feel, or even what to feel, but one thing is certain—you’re not going to get any sleep tonight.

***

The next morning, the sound of laughter and the warm scent of cinnamon pull you from your restless slumber. It’s Christmas morning.

You drag yourself out of bed, trying to shake the unease still settled in your chest, and join everyone downstairs. The living room is alive with energy—Chizuru and Yui are wearing matching pajamas and passing out mugs of hot cocoa, Aran is fiddling with the Bluetooth speaker to get a holiday playlist going, and Osamu is helping himself to the tray of cookies on the coffee table, ignoring Chizuru’s scolding about “ruining the aesthetic before everyone’s here.”

But even with all the warmth and chatter, the absence is glaring.

Atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

You try not to let it bother you. He’s probably just sleeping in. Or avoiding you after last night. You’re not sure which thought twists your stomach more.

The morning rolls on, and soon everyone gathers for the gift exchange. Laughter fills the air as ribbons are untied, wrapping paper is torn apart, and heartfelt thank-yous are exchanged. Yui squeals over the skincare set Kita picked out for her, and Aran grins ear-to-ear at the custom jersey Chizuru ordered. Even Osamu looks pleased with the knife set you picked out for him, ruffling your hair as he thanks you.

But as the last gifts are unwrapped, you realize something’s missing.

Everyone else has given you something, no matter how small—a book from Chizuru, earrings from Yui, a scarf from Suna—but Atsumu’s name is noticeably absent.

You don’t say anything, but you feel the knot of disappointment settle in your chest. Maybe it’s silly to care so much. Maybe it’s selfish. But after the week you’ve had, after all the bickering, the teasing, and everything you heard last night, you thought...

You thought he’d at least try.

***

The rest of the day passes in a blur of food and laughter, but you can’t shake the hollow feeling that lingers in the back of your mind. That night, you retreat to your room early, needing the quiet to sort through your thoughts.

You’re not expecting the knock.

It’s soft at first, like he’s testing whether you’ll even respond. You hesitate, wondering if you should ignore it again like last night. But then it comes again, more insistent.

“Hey,” Atsumu’s voice calls softly through the door. “You awake?”

You don’t answer, but you also don’t move.

A pause. Then: “I know you’re probably mad at me or somethin’, but... I wanna show ya somethin’. Come on, get up. Please.”

There’s something in his voice that makes your stomach flip—nervousness, maybe, or the slightest tinge of vulnerability.

When you still don’t reply, he tries again. “There’s... there’s somethin’ I wanna say, but it’ll be easier if ya just come with me. I’ll be out back. Meet me at the hot tub if you wanna.”

His footsteps retreat, leaving you alone in the quiet.

For a moment, you just sit there, staring at the door and debating whether to follow him or let the silence stay.

But curiosity—and maybe something else—wins out. You pull yourself from the bed, slide on your slippers, and head downstairs.

thirteen.

The night air is crisp, biting against your skin as you step out onto the pool deck. The stars above are sharp pinpricks in the deep velvet sky, their light barely competing with the soft glow of the string lights strung along the edge of the fence.

Your heart pounds as you glance around, unsure of what you’re expecting. And then you see him.

Atsumu is sitting by the edge of the hot tub, his legs dipped into the warm water, hands fidgeting in his lap. The tension in his shoulders eases the moment his eyes meet yours, and he lights up in a way that makes your chest ache. He stands quickly, his movements awkward but eager, like he’s been waiting for hours just for this moment.

“You came,” he says softly, his voice carrying over the gentle hum of the water.

You nod, stepping closer, unsure what to say. There’s a nervous energy between you now, not the usual teasing or bickering, but something fragile and unspoken. 

He gestures toward the edge of the hot tub. You hesitate for only a moment before moving to sit beside him, the warmth of the bubbling water chasing away the chill in the air. Neither of you speak at first, the silence thick but not uncomfortable.

When you glance at him, you notice his hands are no longer fidgeting. Instead, they rest on his knees, tense, like he’s holding himself back.

The quiet stretches on, and you don’t know whether it’s you or him who breaks it first. But then he moves—slowly, carefully—and cups your face with his hands.

You can’t breathe. You can’t even comprehend anything but his large, warm hands gentle around your face. His thumbs brush softly against your cheeks, and his eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes your chest tighten. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t need to. The way he looks at you—steady and unguarded—says it all.

And in that moment, you’re reminded of everything.

The way he looked at you during truth or dare, his gaze flickering with something almost too heavy to hold. The way he showed up for you, always, even when you tried to convince you both that it didn’t mean anything. The way he looked at you that very first night you met him, in the dim, crowded, musty basement of the frat house, when your heart had betrayed you by skipping a beat the very moment his golden eyes landed on you. He has never looked more beautiful; he has never seemed more human. 

You love him. Oh god. 

You love him.

Atsumu hesitates, leaning in slightly but stopping just short, his breath warm against your skin. He pauses, like he’s waiting for your permission, or maybe just bracing himself for the possibility that you’ll pull away.

Against all odds, you kiss him first.

The moment your lips meet, he lets out a small, almost startled sound before kissing you back. His hands slide to the sides of your neck, steady and sure, while his lips move against yours like he’s been imagining this for years. He holds you like he’s terrified that this isn’t real, like if he lets go then you’ll disappear. Your fingers knot in his t-shirt, his hand gets lost in your hair, you are breathless in every way but you don’t care because if he wanted to steal the air straight from your lungs you would let him. 

When you finally part, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your skin, both of you quiet as the world seems to settle into a kind of peace. For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression so tender and full of awe that you wonder if he’s committing this moment to memory. And then he grins—a smile so wide and full of boyish delight that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“So you do like me,” he teases, his voice warm, his thumb brushing against your cheek. 

You snort. “Nah, I change my mind. I hate you.”

He rolls his eyes because he knows you’re bluffing, and just kisses you again.

The two of you sit there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other and the quiet intimacy of the night. But then you remember something, a question that’s been gnawing at the back of your mind all day.

“Atsumu?”

“Hmm?” he hums, still holding you close, his fingers absently tracing small circles against your skin.

“Why didn’t you get me a Christmas gift?”

He freezes for a moment, blinking at you like he’s just remembered something. “Oh, crap.”

“What?” you ask, laughing at the sudden panic in his face.

“That’s what I came here for,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, before quickly standing and rummaging through the pocket of his hoodie. He pulls out a small, folded cloth pouch, holding it carefully in his hands like it’s something precious.

“I’ve had this for years,” he says, his voice soft, almost hesitant, as he sits back down beside you. “And I didn’t know if I should give it to ya. Or if it was even the right time. But... I guess it is now.”

He opens the pouch and carefully empties its contents into his hand.

You stare, halting as you take in what’s inside:

A small square of paper with the element “Au” drawn on it, the edges worn like it’s been folded and unfolded a thousand times. “From freshman year chem,” he explains softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You were the only one who laughed when I joked that it stood for Atsumu instead of gold.”

A torn scrap of notebook paper with your name written on it in messy handwriting. “Greek match,” he says, chuckling quietly. “I wrote it down when they paired us up. Figured it’d be my one excuse to talk to ya.”

A dried, pressed petal from a rose. “Semi-formal,” he murmurs. “You were wearin’ that red dress, and I was an idiot who thought bringin’ roses was a good idea. You said they were beautiful, but you... you were somethin’ else entirely.”

There’s other little things, little bits and pieces from the two years you’ve known each other, little reminders that you can barely remember a time where he wasn’t in your life. Atsumu has been a part of your routine since the day he met you. You lived eighteen years without knowing him, but you can’t imagine living without him anymore. 

And then, as if you weren’t touched enough, he passes you another small wrapped item. You gently peel back the paper to find the Mt. Iwate snow globe he had bought before you could last week. 

As you cradle the snow globe in your hands, the memory of that day comes rushing back—Atsumu’s smug grin as he held up the very item you’d been planning to buy, the gleam of satisfaction in his golden eyes when you’d glared at him. You’d been so furious, so determined to outmatch him for the rest of the trip, but now, holding the snow globe in your hands, all you can feel is an overwhelming warmth.

“You…” Your voice falters as you run your thumb over the cool glass, watching the tiny flakes swirl around the miniature Mt. Iwate. “You bought this for me?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Felt bad for bein’ an ass that day. But ya stormed off before I could give it to ya, and then… I guess I kept it, hopin’ one day it’d mean more.”

You blink at him, at the boy sitting beside you, nervously scratching the back of his neck. The boy who had spent two years teasing and frustrating you, yet somehow still managed to worm his way into your heart. The boy who’d quietly kept a snow globe and a collection of mementos, waiting for the right moment to share them with you.

“Atsumu…” Your voice is soft, almost fragile, as you set the snow globe down and turn to face him fully. “This is—” You pause, searching for the right words. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“I know,” he says quickly, his gaze dropping to the water, then back to you. “But I wanted to. You’re… important to me, y’know? And I don’t always show it the right way, but—”

“You don’t have to explain,” you interrupt, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his voice. “I get it. I do.”

His eyes search yours, his expression caught somewhere between relief and disbelief. For a moment, the two of you just sit there, the night air heavy with unsaid things. Then you reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his, and his breath catches audibly.

“You’re not as bad as you think you are,” you tease lightly, trying to ease the tension, though your voice wavers with the weight of everything unspoken.

“Yeah?” His grin is lopsided, nervous, but the spark of playfulness in his eyes is unmistakable. “Don’t get used to me bein’ this sweet, though. Still gotta keep you on your toes.”

You laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder, your fingers still tangled with his. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

For a while, you sit in companionable silence, the bubbling of the hot tub and the distant chirping of crickets filling the air. You watch as the snow globe sits on the edge of the tub, the flakes settling gently at the base. Somehow, it feels like everything—your bickering, his teasing, the hesitant steps toward this moment—has led to this: an unspoken understanding that this, whatever it is between you, is real.

Finally, Atsumu breaks the silence. “So… was that the right gift?” He nudges your shoulder lightly, his tone casual but his eyes searching.

You pretend to think, your lips twitching into a smirk. “Hmm… It’s alright, I guess.”

His jaw drops in mock offense, his free hand flying to his chest. “Alright? Do you know how much thought I put into that?”

You grin, squeezing his hand. “It’s perfect, Atsumu.”

His expression softens, and for a moment, he just looks at you, his golden eyes warm and steady. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Because you’re kinda perfect to me, too.”

And just like that, he has you all over again—breathless, flustered, and hopelessly in love. You lean up and kiss him, slow and soft, and when you pull back, his boyish grin is so bright it almost hurts to look at.

“Alright, enough mushy stuff,” you say, standing up and stretching, though your heart is still racing. “I’m freezing, and I need to head back inside before I turn into an icicle.”

Atsumu groans dramatically but follows your lead, climbing out of the hot tub and grabbing the snow globe for you. He drapes his hoodie around your shoulders as you head back toward the cabin, the warmth of it—and him—chasing away the cold.

As you walk, side by side, you realize something: revenge had been the last thing on your mind tonight. Because somehow, Atsumu had managed to do what he always did—get under your skin and make himself impossible to hate. And for once, you weren’t going to fight it.

Tomorrow, you might bicker again. He might steal your favorite mug, or you might prank him during breakfast. But tonight, under the glow of the stars and the string lights, you let yourself fall a little deeper, knowing he’d be there to catch you.

⨭ closing; i love this one sm honestly. i lowkey even drew out the room plan of the cabin in case ur curious, which looks like this:

btw all the sorority girls mentioned are actually the girls' karasuno team lol; i'm trying rly hard to keep these stories all in the same universe but there are so few girls in the hq universe and even less in high school </3 wld it be confusing if i started reusing kiyoko and yachi as y/n's besties it wld be so much easier on me :')

vote down below or maybe offer some suggestions for other ways to work around the lack of girl besties/roommates/etc (ie. maybe age change!older/younger sisters??)

[captain-hawks]

part 1

meian shugo x f!reader, omegaverse

meian shugo is, as always, alarmingly efficient at assessing and reacting to a situation.

case in point: as it turns out, a busy, out-of-town championship tournament weekend is not a good time to expect your body to adjust kindly to a new brand of suppressants. 

you’ve been feeling off for days, gritting your teeth and fighting through waves of dizziness and feverish chills. but it’s only once you step into the gymnasium while msby and their opponents are warming up for their first game that the weight of your mistake hits you in full.

more than a few heads turn your way, and the sharp, bitter tang of alpha pheromones—too many to place at once—crawls up your nostrils and down your throat. you instantly begin to feel nauseous. 

atsumu and bokuto start to make their way toward you, concern and confusion written on their faces in equal measure.

“hey, you dropped this.”

you halt, glancing back to find a player from the other team standing a little too close for comfort as he holds up your track jacket—it must have slipped off of your shoulder. your nose wrinkles at his scent.

hinata’s voice approaches from somewhere behind you.

“thanks,” you say quickly, going to take the jacket from him.

but he doesn’t let go of it right away, offering you an eager smile as he tugs it back almost playfully instead, eyes drifting down to the lanyard around your neck. “physiotherapist? think you could make time for an appointment with me later?”

“i—”

“excuse me,” meian’s voice cuts in roughly.

suddenly, there’s a solid wall of heat at your back. the captain reaches around you, grabbing your jacket with one hand while the other curls around your bicep. meian guides you toward the doors to exit the gym without another word.

a loud whistle blows behind you.

“captain—”

“—the game’s about to start!”

“start without me,” meian barks back, not bothering to turn around. 

meian moves at a brisk pace, never taking his hands off of you as he quickly steers you toward the closest unoccupied space—the locker room.

“meian-san—”

your words die in your throat as he swiftly backs you up against a wall, mouth set in a firm line while he cages you in, hands pressed flat on either side of your head. 

“stand still,” says tersely.

“but—”

“please,” his tone finally softens.

you nod once, hands obediently falling to your sides, heart galloping in your chest in confusion all the while.

and before you can even begin to wonder what the fuck he’s doing, meian’s face is suddenly buried in the crook of your shoulder. his stubble scratches against your soft skin as he slowly drags his face up the side of your neck, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. you try to fight back the shiver that arches up your spine, though it’s a losing battle. 

cupping your jaw, he moves to the other side, nose pressed just behind your earlobe before his chin strokes its way down to your collarbone. meian stills for a moment, the only sounds in the room his steady breathing and your erratic heartbeat thundering in your ears.

every nerve ending in your body feels like it's on the verge of combusting.

without warning, the scent of rosewood hits you all at once, and your fingers claw at the wall behind you for purchase as your knees go weak with each shallow inhale that your chest heaves with, unbidden. 

embarrassingly enough, you’ve become quite familiar with the scent of meian shugo’s cologne during your time working with msby. and his body wash.

this, however, is neither of those things.

you clench your thighs together.

shifting his attention to the base of your throat, his lips make brief contact with your skin with the movement, and this time, your knees do give out as you gasp. 

“shit—”

meian catches you, pulling you into his arms, and the sweet, woody aroma envelopes you whole. your tongue feels damp and heavy in your mouth, and you have to bite back a whimper.

“shit, sorry, here,” the captain steers you toward a bench, carefully helping you sit down.

the seat is cool beneath your sweaty palms, and you grip its edges, breathing in deeply for a few moments before you finally look at the alpha sitting beside you.

“what the fuck,” you whisper, not sure if you’re saying it to him or yourself.

“i’m sorry, that was probably the most unprofessional thing i’ve ever done,” meian drags a hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically ruffled himself.

you put up a hand. “no, it’s…it’s okay. i’m having some issues with my suppressants, but i didn’t realize how bad it was until i got here. that was just…intense.”

meian nods, swallowing, and you find yourself unconsciously watching the way his throat bobs. “you haven’t been scented before, have you?”

you’re not quite sure how to tell him that you have.

for platonic reasons like this very situation, nonetheless.

you have, yes, but it’s never been like this.

it’s never left you panting and trembling, perspiration dripping down the back of your arched spine while heat flares white-hot in your gut. 

it’s never left you dizzy. unraveled.

needy.

desperate.

it’s never left you craving the scent left behind.

it’s never—

the door to the locker room swings open with a bang, and atsumu peeks in, eyes going a little wide as his nostrils flare.

“uh, cap. sorry, but we need ya out there.”

[teamatsumu]

primal. (miya osamu x reader)

word count: 2586

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, fem!omega reader, porn with minimal plot, swearing, typical omegaverse jargon (scent, heat, rut, slick, knot)

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose

This was getting ridiculous.

Three whole days Osamu had not spoken to you. And for what? Because of a stupid argument you had about his new menu? In your mind, if he didn't want constructive criticism, he really should not have asked you for your opinion.

(You tried to ignore the gnawing guilt you felt that maybe you had been too harsh.)

But still, was it worth being this upset about? He hadn't replied to any of your messages. His phone was going straight to voicemail, and to top it off, even Atsumu hadn't heard from him. The blond twin had told you to just give him some space, and that he was ‘going through it’. But you scoffed. What exactly was he going through? All this over a controversial menu item? You didn't know Osamu could be so unreasonable over something so stupid.

Which is why you were standing at his door now, knocking for the last ten fucking minutes, while he didn't even bother to respond or open up. Your knocking had now progressed to vicious pounding, and you didn't give a shit if the neighbours heard. You were pissed. Osamu was being a baby and not communicating with you and you would make him talk if it was the last thing you did.

“Open this fucking door, Osamu!” You shouted for the tenth time.

“Go away!” Finally. Now that Osamu had gotten tired of your incessant pounding, he had finally responded. Triumph coarsed through you.

“I knew you were in there!” One more smack on the wood. “Open up. Now!”

“I'm tellin’ ya to go away.” His voice sounded strained. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“What's up with you?”

There was some shuffling, and then a pained groan. Your muscles stiffened in alarm.

“Samu?” You could feel your anger drain away, replaced by worry. “Are you okay? Open the door!”

“Just go away. Everythin’ is fine. I'm not mad at ya. I just need ya to…. get away.”

You couldn't ignore the pain in his voice anymore. You tried the doorknob again to no avail. “Please let me in. I'm getting worried.”

Silence again. You leaned against the door, your panic only building. “Samu, please.”

Your anger was non-existent now. It didn't matter to you whatever stupid fight you two had gotten into. Your paranoid mind was racing and all you could think about was a million different ways that Osamu might be hurt. If anything happened to him…

Your heart imperceptibly broke.

You had known Osamu since high school, when him and his brother would melt your brain with their unnecessary fighting and competition. He was young and naive then, with that godawful gray hair that he thankfully abandoned after high school, and an attitude so fiery it left most other people in the dust. You couldn't understand why you were so attracted to him at first glance, but then he presented as an Alpha mere months after you first met, and your attraction to him became quite clear.

More than anything else, Osamu was your close friend. He understood you in a way his twin didn't, and you liked to think you were a good friend to him too. You kept your feelings for him pretty tightly wrapped up in your heart, afraid that an Alpha like him wouldn't want you. He was desired widely by many, many omegas. And he had always turned them down. If all those prime omegas weren't good enough for him, you didn't stand a chance.

So you lived with him as your friend, because you would rather have that than nothing at all.

You knocked on the door again, more softly this time, knowing he was right on the other side. “Samu, please let me in. Let me see.”

There was a thunk. You assumed Osamu had leaned his forehead against the door. “Omega…”

It clicked in you, like gears fitting into place. Your heart raced. You shuffled closer to the door until there was no more space left. You sniffed carefully.

There was his scent, heady and musky, sandalwood and something you had come to associate only with Osamu. A scent you had loved for so long it made you want to buckle to your knees. It was strong, heavier than any time you had smelled it before. It made your eyes cross, your breath pause. Something in your core stirred.

“Your rut?” You mumbled. You knew he heard you.

Osamu groaned low in response. Your thighs clenched.

Over the years, you observed that Osamu's ruts were rare. Maybe once every three months. He would always disappear a few days beforehand, and didn't reappear until it was well over and done. Atsumu said that since his ruts were so spaced out, they would always hit really hard. So you tended to leave him alone until he reached out first, talking normally and as if nothing had happened, picking up where he left off.

In your anger and with your fight fresh in your mind, you didn't realize that Osamu had likely gone off the grid because of his rut, and not because he was ignoring you. Now you were standing here, mere inches from an Alpha in full rut, with your own core tightening and something wet slowly dripping down the crease of your thigh. Your inhibition was slowly dissipating the more you frantically tried to breathe his faint scent. Your omega purred and whined.

“I could help.” You dared say. “I could help you, Alpha.”

Another groan, low and desperate, and you felt like it was rattling through your very soul. You bit your lip hard, hand twitching to move between your thighs, but you remained frozen. Osamu didn't move away from the door. His pants grew louder, and then he whined.

“Are you sure?” His muffled voice came, almost broken with desire. He wanted- needed- you to say yes. You nodded vigorously even if he couldn't see you.

“Yes!”

Some thudding, clicking, and then he pulled open the door. Your breath caught at the sight of him.

He was gloriously shirtless, and his loose sweatpants were doing nothing to hide his problem either. His erection was obvious, straining and standing against the struggling material of his pants. It would look almost comical if you weren't horny out of your fucking mind right now. His bare torso shone with a thin layer of sweat. You bit your lip so hard you were sure you drew blood.

“Holy fuck, you smell good.” Osamu's nose, more sensitive with his rut, twitched. His eyelids fluttered, and he took in a deep breath. You stared at him some more, wondering if you were dreaming.

“What are ya standin’ there for? C’mere, Omega.”

He tugged on your arm, until your body was making contact with his. Your hands rested on his chest, and you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating. He leaned down until his face was mere inches from yours. His breath hit your lips, made them tingle. Your core clenched painfully. His scent got stronger.

“Ya sure ya want this?”

You didn’t even have the strength to nod, feeling lightheaded. You only tilted your face up until your lips brushed his. “Please.”

A breathy curse, and then he was kissing you. His arms wrapped tight around your back, like he was scared you would disappear, one hand gripping possessively over your hip. You suspected it would leave a bruise.

You wanted it to leave a bruise.

He left you breathless when your lips parted. He tugged you in further and shut the door with a loud bang, before pushing you back against it. The manhandling turned you on to no end, the thought that you were someone Osamu was about to use to satisfy himself. Your already aroused mind went wild at the notion and you arched into him when he crowded you against the door, lips meeting in a frenzy. He bit and licked your mouth raw, invading your mouth like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. You dug your nails into his biceps, reveling in the feeling of him, of finally having him the way you wanted. Your panties were soaked through by now. Your inner thighs held the signs of your desire.

His lips traveled down your neck next, licking and biting, inhaling and exhaling as he scented you. His cock pressed into your hip and you let him satisfy his need to leave his mark on you, basking in his scent that mixed with yours and how he laid his claim on you, albeit temporarily. His hands gripped hard at your sides, pushing your shirt up to run over bare skin.

“Wanted this so bad.” He rasped, biting dangerously close to your scent gland, you leaned into the sting. “Every rut. Ya know how many times I’ve jerked off to ya?”

His accent was thick, his words slurred. You were sure he was completely gone by this point. You gripped his hair hard.

“Wanted you too, Alpha.” You whimpered back. “Touch me, god, please.”

Osamu lifted you up then, two strong hands grabbing your asscheeks and carrying you across the room to where his couch was located. You wrapped your arms around his neck, taking the opportunity to lap and nip at his neck, scenting him back. Your drenched walls fluttered around nothing, crying and weeping for a nice, thick knot to fill you up.

You had a suspicion you wouldn’t have to wait long.

When Osamu dropped you on the couch, his hands immediately tugged on your clothes, pulling off your jeans and panties in one go. The fabric clung to you with how wet it was, and the air was cool on your burning skin. You used the moment to pull off your top until you were bare before him. Osamu kissed your calf, traveling up quickly with a few kisses laid on your skin. Your thigh, your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your jaw. He had tugged his sweats down already, and you felt something hard poke at your dripping entrance.

“Can’t wait, baby.” His voice trembled. “Need ya now. Need to knot ya so bad I’m gonna explode.”

And then he was sliding into your slicked up but unprepped pussy, carving his way through your spasming walls until a sharp pain went through you. You gasped at the glorious stretch, at your walls recognising an Alpha cock and opening up to accommodate him. Your wetness ran down your ass, likely soiling Osamu’s couch but you doubted he cared. He was cursing and whining in your ear, spine bending forward at the relief of finally sinking into a wet, ready cunt. His face was flushed a deep red, sweat building on his forehead. He sank into you to the base, your toes tingling with the sensation of being so full.

“Hold on, omega.” His last words. They almost sounded like a threat. Your breath caught.

Then he was gripping your hips and holding you down, before fucking into you hard and fast. You gasped at the sudden pace, legs pushed even further open as his cock repeatedly bullied itself into you. Your jaw went slack at the sensation, how he hit you so deep, sloppy noises filling the air along with your cries and his moans. His skin slapped hard against yours, leaving the inside of your thighs red and tender. His cock hit every spot just right. You felt your toes curl.

Osamu watched your reactions, nearly delirious himself, barely holding on by a thread.

“Feel good?”

You nodded frantically, fingernails scratching over his shoulders and arms. Osamu leaned down on his elbows, tongue poking out to lick at your lips every now and then.

“Tell me how good it feels. Tell me.”

“I-” You gasped and jolted with the force of his thrusts. Tears built up in your eyes and spilled down the sides of your face. “Can’t- can’t talk.”

“Yes you can.” His hand wound into the hair at the back of your head, tugging hard until you arched into him. “Say it. Say ya love my cock.”

“Love your cock.” You managed to wail, clamping down hard on him. He cursed and leaned down further, pace not even faltering in the slightest. His lips sealed themselves against the skin of your neck and he sucked hard.

“Tell me how bad ya want my knot.”

“Want it so bad.” You parroted, losing every coherent thought and just going along with what he was saying. Osamu continued to pound into you like he wasn’t even talking, like he wasn’t rearranging your guts or turning your legs to jelly. Like the base of his cock wasn’t rapidly swelling and catching on the rim of your hole.

Osamu pushed himself deep into you before stilling completely, and you nearly weeped in frustration.

“Tell me why ya deserve my knot.” He gritted, eyes meeting yours. Little golden flecks shown in his irises, and his incisors elongated below his bottom lip. He was deep, deep in the clutches of his rut. Combined with his messed up hair and flushed cheeks, he looked wild. Uninhibited. Dangerous. Your pleasure hit its very peak, teetering just over the edge, begging for that last push. You sobbed.

“Wanted you for so long.” You gasped and cried, tears pouring from your cheeks. “Wanted you to fuck me and knot me and give me your cum. Please, Alpha, please. I’ll be so good for you.”

Osamu groaned. Something in his eyes softened. He hooked a hand under your left knee and tugged it up, folding it against your torso. His cock pulled out before pushing back in, slowly picking up his pace again. You moaned loud, feeling your pit tighten up again.

“Why don’t ya cum fer me nice and hard, baby? Get me wet with your juice and then I’ll fill you up. Promise. I’ll shove this fat knot into your tiny little cunt. Just cum fer me, little omega.”

And you did. You arched into him, eyes rolling and arms seizing as you came harder than you ever had in your life. Electricity zipped through you and all air was punched out of your lungs until you felt that your very soul was leaving your body. You didn’t even register when Osamu groaned and stuttered in his pace, or when his knot swelled until it was bullied into your thoroughly fucked out and sore pussy. White hot cum filled your insides as he locked into you, hips flush against your own.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist as Osamu’s comforting weight settled on you. He licked and lapped at your neck softly, breathing into you until you were nothing but his scent, his touches, his marks. You panted and tried to catch your breath, legs trembling with aftershocks of the event. You could barely lift your arms to run over his bare back, but you managed. Osamu hummed at your soft touch.

All was silent beneath you two as the fog of his rut lifted. You could feel him slowly cool down, get pliant against you. You could almost sense his apprehension.

“Do ya regret it?”

You smiled slightly, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant it, Samu. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You could feel his own smile against your neck, his embrace around you tightening. “Me too.”

Your skin buzzed with warmth. While Osamu breathed softly against your neck, you let yourself drift into a quiet sleep.

[bizkitsnuggets]

MOTORCYCLES & A PASSION

— M. ATSUMU x FEMALE READER (smau)

main m.list

synopsis: in which atsumu miya is helplessly in love with yn but can't make a move until his professor partners them up for a project.

fluff, atsumu being a dummy, sort of dense yn, tiny angst, college au

status: completed (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

introduction: alpha sigma fr || foursome (what!)

a/n: hey sry if this is bad 🤕

likes and rebloggs are vv appreciated!!!

chapters —

chapters with ✎ are written parts.

01: a wreck ✎

02: oddball

03: a ride? already? ✎

04: crisis

05: nana addict

06: nana addict pt. 2

07: ppl w/ bleached hair sux ✎

08: territorial feelings

09: cuddles and nana

10: what did you do? ✎

11: stupidity at its finest

12: animals and regrets ✎

13: 4ever your passenger princess

bonus chapter

[mavrintarou]

[3:00 PM] Miya Atsumu - A/B/O

All I can tell you all is that it's long and dirty... hope you have a wonderful smutty Friday.

Warning: Full of smutty smut... A little different from most A/B/O au

.

Atsumu returned home early from a four-week-long training camp.  

He first noticed the unfamiliar pheromone in his shared apartment with Y/n.

Immediately his ears perked, and he could hear moaning and whimpering coming from down the hall.

Sighing, Atsumu contemplated going to Osamu’s place for the night. Now that he recalled, Y/n did remind him that she was going through her rut cycle soon. Normally, they respected each other’s boundaries and spent their ruts at the specialty hotel that was designated for ruts & heats. She had asked if he would be okay if she brought her partner to spend the night at their apartment since he would be out during that time, and he was okay with it.

Before Atsumu could put his shoes back on, he heard a door swing open.

“This is fucken pathetic, screw you!”

Atsumu froze and before he could hide, a half-naked omega stalked past him before stopping to glare at him. “Your roommate is a pathetic alpha!” She shouted before slamming the door after her.

Blinking, Atsumu was shocked at what had just happened.

“She’s just mad I lost my vibe. I didn’t know you were coming home early.”

Turning his head, Atsumu sees Y/n standing only in her robe, leaning against the wall. He could see red blotches along her neck.

He took a step closer to Y/n. “You okay?”

She shrugged and smiled, “don’t worry about it.” She walked over and dropped herself on the couch.

How could he not worry? Atsumu inhaled softly before sitting beside her. He noticed the oddness he had been feeling the last couple of days and couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

He glanced over at Y/n who had her arms crossed over her chest with her eyes closed, almost like she was sleeping.

Y/n was one of the few female hybrids, a special case of an alpha and omega. Hybrids were able to choose between either gender and could breed and be bred.

The setback for most hybrids was that they have a smaller physique than an average omega and due to that, oftentimes time they were looked down on as alpha hybrids. Like both genders, hybrids go through both rut and heat phases and sometimes both could happen at the same time. Hybrids were able to release alpha and omega pheromones yet unable to detect them like betas. They often have to carry with them a pheromone neutralizer to prevent unwanted attention.

Eventually, most hybrids will adopt the more dominant gender. The high percentage of hybrids become omegas due to the challenges of being an alpha.

But Y/n had no problem attracting both alphas and omegas.

Atsumu himself was physically and sexually attracted to her until he discovered that her preference was omegas.

He would take it to his grave that he had imagined how it would be to have Y/n below him, how she would take him…

But they were friends, roommates for three years.

However, things changed two weeks ago when the two of them were casually having a beer in their living room after a long work day.

“Hey,” Atsumu started, staring at Y/n sip on her fourth beer. She was one of the few ladies he knew who enjoyed a good beer and a lot of it. “Wanna play Truth or Dare?”

He could see she was thinking about it before she smirked and answered, “sure.”

Being the gentleman he is, he allowed her to go first.

“Truth or dare, ‘Tsumu?”

He felt a sense of nervousness for some reason and decided to play it safe and chose truth.

“Why are you so uptight?”

Atsumu frowned before letting out a laugh, that was her question? “Honestly, I haven’t had sex in three months. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone without sex since losing my virginity.”

Y/n’s face distorted humorously and she tried hard not to laugh, “okay, your turn.”

“Truth or dare, Y/n?”

“Truth,” she answered.

Atsumu smirked, wondering if she was playing it safe. “Which one do you like more, being top or bottom?” This was one question he had been dying to know the answer to.

Y/n consistently projected an aura of composure and ease, effortlessly connecting with everyone she encountered. It came as no shock that alphas and omegas alike gravitated toward her; there was an undeniable allure about her that drew them in.

She wasn’t surprised at his question at all. “My answer would be top because I’ve never been a bottom before.”

His eyes bulged out in disbelief. “I don’t believe you, you have never…” Atsumu’s voice trailed off as he tried to connect the dots in his head. “But you’re a… hybrid…” his tone was filled with nothing but confusion. “Don’t you get heats?”

Y/n shook her head, gulping her beer. “No, I have never gotten through a heat before. I know, it’s odd. My doctor doesn’t know why either and just continues to tell me to monitor myself.” She shrugs her shoulders, “so, I only know how to top.” She narrows her eyes at him playfully, asking him that nearly makes him choke on his saliva. “Why? You want to do you want to show me how it feels to be a bottom?”

The fun and playful mood Atsumu was in suddenly turned him sober and serious. Was she joking? He swallowed, trying hard not to make it obvious that his cock had gotten excited and was semi-hard.

Their game of Truth or Dare came to an abrupt end before neither had a second round as the fire alarms in their apartment complex went off.

Neither spoke again about that subject and went on with their lives.

Or at least Atsumu tried to.

For days, he couldn’t get the subject out of his head, wondering and questioning how she had managed to go this long without having a heat, let alone that she had never been a bottom before! It had also bothered Atsumu about her question she asked him if he would like to show her, was she serious about it? It made Atsumu excited every time he thought about it.

Atsumu has been wanting to bring the conversation up again and suddenly had the urge to do so.

His mouth opened to speak when something hit his sense of smell, a delicate aroma. Blood began rushing down south and his mouth watered, his mind clouded with nothing but wanting to have a taste of this deliciousness that was taking over his senses.

Realization hit him as this was typically how he becomes when he is being affected by an omega’s heat pheromone.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at Y/n.

“Atsumu.”

He flinched at the way she called his name, not in a threatening way, but in a way that made him want to be nothing but possessive of her. His throat tightened as her pheromone poured more onto him.

“I… think I’m going through my first heat,” Y/n murmurs softly, opening her eyes to peer into his. They were a different color and most definitely very dilated.

He noticed her crossed arms tightening around her petite body. Realization hit him, the faint lingering smell he had detected was Y/n’s omega pheromone, something completely different from her alpha pheromone he was used to. It was no wonder he was not threatened by it because it still had a bit of her scent in it, keeping him calm.

“What?” he growled, trying to maintain his composure and sanity, he wanted to pounce on her. Atsumu stood up and distanced himself from her. “But you said you –“  

“I never had one before so I don’t know what to expect but I’m confident… enough that what I’m experiencing right now is my heat.” Y/n hunched over, her shoulders trembling.

The silence in the room was unbearable and she broke it by quietly asking, “would you – be comfortable to help me?” She bit her lower lip before asking, “I’ve – I’ve never been a bottom… show me. Show me what it's like to be a bottom, Atsumu.”

Atsumu’s eyes bulged out, “sh – show you?” He inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes to absorb her request. He paced back and forth in their living room before clarifying, “say that one more time? What are you asking me to do?” He needed a second confirmation.

“Atsumu,” Y/n called his name, it flowed like soft butter from the tip of her tongue. “I’m in heat right now and I want you to show me what it feels like to be a bottom…” she paused, “if that makes you feel uncomfortable I can go ask –“ She was suddenly tugged onto her feet and pressed against his chest. She felt his hardness press against her abdomen and her eyes widened, breath hitching.

“All you need is me,” Atsumu’s eyes suddenly become dark as he stares at her lips. “I will show you how to be a bottom, Y/n.”

.

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/n,” Atsumu growled softly against her nipple. Three of his long and thick fingers have been thrust back and forth inside her pussy. “Am I doing a shit job that I can’t even make you moan for me?”

Y/n shook her head, her knuckles had turned white from gripping his comforters tightly. She let out a heavy breath, “no – no… it feels…”

“Feels?...”

“Fucken amazing…” she finished, opening her eyes. “I’ve… never felt this bliss before…” her back arched when Atsumu’s fingers curled and fastened.

“Nope,” Atsumu chuckled when she tried to close her legs. “Keep these beautiful legs open, wide open for me.” He shifts his large, toned body to fit in between her legs. He withdrew his fingers to stroke his cock.

Atsumu still couldn’t believe that Y/n has never had a heat before, let alone taken a cock before.

“’Tsumu,” Y/n whimpered, her fingers grazing over her wet pussy, her pussy ached to be stuffed, filled in ways she never imagined before.

Since finding out she is a hybrid at the age of 16, her gender has always been alpha-dominant. She has never experienced a heat since discovering her hybrid gender even though she was capable of adapting to both genders.

Unlike most, Y/n had no problem attracting either gender but she had preferred to be a top giver than a bottom receiver.

It wasn’t until recently, until the game of Truth or Dare with Atsumu that it had piqued her interest. She suddenly was curious about being a bottom but she did not know who she trusted enough to share that moment with. Unconsciously, she began manifesting it.

On numerous occasions, she caught herself staring at Atsumu, and it was then that she began seeing him in a different light. She considered the idea of asking him but was frequently reminded that it would alter their relationship forever.

Her request tonight was her heat speaking. During the few weeks of Atsumu being away, Y/n’s body began experiencing a change she had never felt before. Unlike the times she was going through a rut, her body was burning and throbbing at her pussy.

Y/n has never touched herself in such a way, never having to need to until now. For two nights in a row, she tossed and turned in bed until the temporary relief was her fingers dipping in between her legs and stuffing her pussy in ways she’s done to other omegas.

“Atsumu…” his name slipped from her lips unconsciously. Her eyes widened and embarrassment shamed her for calling out her friend’s name while imagining him, imagining it was his fingers stuffing her pussy.

And now three of his finger pump quickly in and out of her pussy, the mere thought of knowing it’s his fingers that is building up the pleasure is all Atsumu’s doing.

The following day, she snuck into his room and inhaled the scent in his room, filling her desire and yearning.

“Yes,” Y/n moaned, eyes rolling shut, “yes, Atsumu…”

Atsumu shifted onto his knees.  “I can’t believe you’ve never taken a cock before. I find that hard to believe,” Atsumu rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.

Y/n herself can’t believe she hasn’t either. It may be partly because she never had a heat to begin with. Y/n sat up and reached for his cock, her eyes bewitched at the size of his cock. “It’s so… big.”

She wasn’t big and she was aware of it. The first time she spent her rut with an omega, she thought it was a disaster, not knowing what to expect but the omega had expressed how good her cock felt.

An omega once told her with a wink, “it’s now how big, it’s how you use it.”

“I won’t deny that I’ve never wondered how you would look beneath me, Y/n.” Atsumu admitted, “surely you must know you’re fucken desirable, right?” He pushed the tip of his thick cock in her, groaning when her walls tightly refuse to let him in until he compel, shoving just the tip through. “Relax for me, Y/n…” he slowly pushed back and forth, pushing more of his thick long cock into her until she has lubricated his cock, taking him easier. His eyes were transfixed at his cock disappearing into her pussy until she’s taken all of him. Looking up he sees her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Reaching up he freed her swollen lower lip and smoothed it with his thumb. He pressed his thumb past her lips, “bite me instead…” His cock jerked when she clenched her teeth against his thumb. “That’s it, baby…”

Her teeth loosened and she wrapped her tongue around his thumb, sucking it.

“Fuck…” Atsumu swore before choking out a chuckle, “I’m going fuck your mouth afterward.”

Y/n freed his thumb, “promise?” her legs wrapped around his hips pressing herself upwards to him. “Hurry,” she pleaded, “fuck my pussy, ‘Tsumu…” She never thought she would hear herself say that phrase.

Atsumu didn’t need to be told twice. His body crushed her small one, sandwiching her to his bed as he hiked her legs and began thrusting into her pussy. The bed began to shake violently and the wooden bedframe creaked loudly.

Y/n’s arms encircled his neck tightly while her fingers weaved through his strands of dirty blond hair, gripping them firmly at the roots and giving it a gentle tug. Her hips rolled, meeting his powerful thrusts. She cooed and encouraged him, “yes! Yes… just like that… fuck… you’re so big, ‘Tsumu… you feel so good…”

Atsumu only hummed, his mouth busy sucking a perfect hickey against her neck. It has always made him jealous seeing other omegas mark her and now it is his turn and he is going to make sure his mark is engraved into her skin.

His hips fasten, cock repeatedly hitting her sweet spot. If it felt this wonderful already, he couldn’t imagine how it would be when he was in a rut, when his senses would be fully heightened.

“Y/n,” Atsumu groaned, sliding his tongue along her neck and to her jaw, licking along her cheek. He felt so high, in a state of bliss. Every thrust into Y/n’s pussy sent pure excitement and euphoria pulse through him. “Look at me,” he growled, and when she found his brown eyes, he leaned down and kissed her.

Their tongues tangled and eagerly danced as their mouth moved over each other hungrily.

Atsumu was finally satisfying a lingering curiosity within him, having Y/n beneath him and kissing her.

Y/n moaned his name breathlessly from his kisses, “my tummy… it feels tingly… I’m – I’m going to cum… please let me cum…”

The tightening of Y/n’s pussy and increased enhancement of her pheromone pushed Atsumu to the edge, losing the last of his control. He tightened his arms around her small body and pounded hard until the tip of his cock continue to stimulate her cervix. He badly wished he was in a rut so he could penetrate her cervix and knot her.

Breed her.

Y/n’s teeth sink into his collarbone as she comes undone, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body trembles.

Atsumu follows seconds later, filling her pussy with his hot cum.

There’s no going back, I can’t let her go now, he tells himself. He inhales her scent, feeling his cock already semi-hard once again.

.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you two in a long ass time, what have you guys been up to?” Their mutual friend, Ryuji said, gesturing to Atsumu and Y/n to take a seat in the two empty spots at the end of the table.

“Just the same stuff, training and tournaments,” Atsumu shrugged, pulling the seat for Y/n and pushing in the chair like a gentleman. “Season is wrapping up so I’ll finally get some relaxation.”

Atsumu and Y/n were oblivious to their physical intimacy, they didn’t see how their three other friend’s eyes widened as Atsumu’s body turned towards Y/n, his arm resting behind her chair and thumb rubbing circles on her upper arm. He fills her plate with food and continues updating his friends about his life.

Of course, he is keeping his relationship with Y/n out.

It has been two weeks since Y/n’s first heat, and it took almost two days for her heat to conclude and yet, neither of them has had their fill. They have fucked each other in every possible space in their apartment. Day and night, every possible moment.

They had even pulled a quickie in his car before meeting their friends.

“Be my good girl and keep my cum in you. I’ll reward you later,” Atsumu murmured breathlessly. Y/n could only nod as she squeezed her walls and slip off his cock. He assists by slipping her panties back in place before lifting her and placing her gently back in the passenger seat before slipping himself back into his pants.

Aside from Y/n’s lightly pink cheeks, he didn’t think anyone would notice their coupling.

“Are you two… seeing each other?” Their other friend Yuma carefully inquired.

Y/n was the first to calmly deny it and laugh softly, “no, why do you ask?”

The three friends, Yuma, Ryuji, and Masachi, exchange glances, silently acknowledging a shared thought but opting to not broach the subject further.

They didn’t need to.

No one would be stupid enough to even dare look her way with the way that she reeked of Atsumu’s pheromone. It unmistakably screamed she belonged to him, and him alone.

.

The minute passing was only making Atsumu anxious.

Y/n promised to be home thirty minutes ago and it was past the promised time by ten minutes.

Atsumu was aware of his behavior, the possessive behavior he harbored for Y/n. He couldn’t deny it and it only continued to manifest each passing day.

He couldn’t even blame it on his upcoming rut that only seemed to have enhanced with Y/n’s change of pheromone as of late. Atsumu couldn’t quite put his finger on it but something about her has changed and it only made him more addicted to her.

There was one thing that he knew for sure and it was that he was in love with Y/n and wanted her and only her.

.

Y/n was fully aware of Atsumu’s perilous fixation on her.

She had not meant to let their fling go on this long, or at all. It was all a mistake and now… she couldn’t undo it.

She acknowledged that he wasn’t the only one going through this change alone. Y/n too has become possessive of Atsumu. When he would come home with the scent of another omega on him, she would feel her mood turn sour.

Y/n refused to accept it but since having sex with Atsumu, she has not wanted an omega again. She came to terms that she had officially adopted the omega gender, a lot sooner than later for other hybrids. It was inevitable with the amount of sex she was having.

Studies have shown that the more dominant gender would manifest with the amount of climax and chemicals released each time. Whichever gender they possess during their highest climax constantly, their body will begin to adapt to that gender.

It was an addiction, once Y/n had a taste of being an bottom, there was no going back. She craved for Atsumu, his pheromone, his cock deep within her. She craved feeling his thick cock graze and stimulate her pussy walls. She craved being filled to the point her belly bulged.

Y/n began to be delusional. She has never wanted to be knotted so badly, she wanted Atsumu’s knot. She wanted to be bred.

Aware of her behavior and obsession with Atsumu, Y/n tried to meet other alphas… hoping any alpha would do but when she was approached by an alpha at the bar, her nose crinkled in disgust.

It was undeniable that Atsumu was all she wanted.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to be greedy, to give in and savor all the seconds she could have with Atsumu. She convinced herself that if she took as much as she could from him, she could let him go and move on with their lives.

She fueled his obsession and possessiveness, allowing him to have his way with her, and ravish her body, mind, heart, and soul to his content. After all, she not only wanted something to remember him by but the same for him, even if it was just her body. She’ll make it so that he would only think of her when he would be with future omegas.  

They were constantly having sex everywhere and at any time, morning sex, second-morning sex, before-work sex, after-work sex, shower sex, and bedtime sex. As if they were in a constant heat and rut cycle. She was not blind to Atsumu’s attempts to mark her. Every time he took her from behind, she would freeze when his teeth would graze over her scent gland, where his teeth could puncture the sacred spot that should be reserved for her mate. Her hand would cover the spot but Atsumu has now locked her wrists together above her head.

Y/n has become weak for him, submissive per se, and allowed him to do what he pleases.

But she needed to put an end to it.

Whatever they were doing was unhealthy.

.

“Why – why are you doing this?” His voice wavered, his tone laced with pain.

She waited for him to return home from his daily training and as soon as he entered through their apartment doors, the bright smile he always had faded slowly as he felt the heavy atmosphere in the room. Y/n called for him to take a seat across from her before breaking both their hearts.

“We shouldn’t have even started this in the first place, ‘Tsumu.”  Y/n said calmly, but she was anything but calm.

“Don’t call me that, if you don’t want to be with me anymore you have no right to call me that!” A tear slid down his cheek. “Only the woman I love can call me that.”

Y/n held back her tears and swallowed hard before forcing the words out again. “Atsumu, this thing between us should not have even happened in the first place.”

“Why not?” he argued, “it was like you forced me or I forced you. Everything up until now has happened because we both wanted it, and both needed it. We needed each other!”

“Look at us, we know what happens when you cross that line between friends!”

“So what, we can be lovers now?” Atsumu shot back, roughly wiping his tears away. “We can be boyfriend and girlfriend and whatever more if you want, I don’t care. I just want to be with you. I just want to love you!”

As if a veil lifted, she suddenly realizes he loves her.

Y/n blinked, the tears that filled her eyes slipping down her cheeks as she heard his confession.

“You – you do? Like in a real relationship?” Y/n clarified with a careful tone. She didn’t want to misinterpret his words.

“Fuck yes. Do you want to be in a relationship? Then let’s make it official. Do you want to get married? Let’s get married. You want me to mark you, I’ll be glad to mark you to let the whole universe know you are mine…” Atsumu took steps until he was in front of her. When did she look so fragile, so small? He wrapped an arm around her back while his other hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the tear that slipped down her rosy cheek. “I want whatever you want, just as long as you are by my side. Whatever title you want, you can have it all.” He rests his forehead against hers. “But if you are to ask me, I want you as mine in every possible way.”

Y/n shut her eyes tightly. “Say it again,” her voice was barely above whispering, “say you love me again.”

“I love you, Miya Y/n.” Her eyes snapped open and Atsumu grinned, “you didn’t ask but I’m going to give you my last name, so no backs.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, “tell me, Y/n… tell me you love me too.”

“I love you, Miya Atsumu. I love you.”

His life felt 99% complete, there was only that 1% left.

“Now, tell me you’re going to stay by my side for the rest of our lives?”

Y/n pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m going to stay by your side for the rest of our lives.”

.

Her fingers tremble as the third pregnancy test reveals the same thing, a positive result.

“No… how…” she muttered to herself. She dropped it into the garbage can and massaged her temple.

She began experiencing symptoms that she couldn’t avoid and excuse any longer.

Craving, tenderness, and fatigue.

Everything that was pointing to what she was afraid of was pregnancy.

But how? Atsumu has never knotted her.

“Pregnancy can happen without a knot, it is not as common but it can still happen if you are extremely sexually active.” The doctor raised a brow, questioning, “especially if you are not using protection. Are you sexually active? Having unprotected sex more than four times a week?”

Y/n’s ears burned and she was embarrassed to answer the question.

She and Atsumu did use condoms but would forget, losing themselves to the feeling of skin on skin. Y/n was weak to Atsumu’s begging to always cum inside her. It was to feed his ego of knowing she had a part of him inside her at all times.

Her silence and flushed cheeks were all the doctor needed to know. “The chance of conceiving is much higher if you and your partner are extremely active, which is the case since you said your partner has yet to knot you?”

“That is correct,” Y/n answered meekly.

“With this confirmed pregnancy, there is a high percentage of you becoming an official omega.” They explained that Y/n would no longer be a hybrid, and would no longer have any alpha traits.

The doctor placed a booklet before her titled New Mommy and What to Expect and went through it briefly.

Y/n cleared her throat before asking, “my… partner is due for his rut soon… would it be okay to be knotted while… pregnant?”

Her doctor nodded and flipped to page 8, with big and bold letters at the top: Knotting during pregnancy. “You should be fine, if anything, your body will need your partner’s semen to nourish your pregnancy.”

.

Y/n shivered feeling the heavy pheromone throughout the apartment. Now, it made sense as to why she had been sensitive to his pheromone lately, her pregnancy hormones had enhanced all her senses. “Atsumu?”

Before she could check the kitchen, strong arms enveloped her in a tight bear hug. His hot body heat penetrated through her clothing and she was swallowed wholly by his pheromone at straight physical contact.

His nose buried into her neck as he inhaled sharply, “what took you so long?”

He knew of her appointment but it did run slightly longer than she anticipated.

Before she could answer him, he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulders and carrying her to his bedroom.

Y/n blinked, hands pressed against his lower back to steady herself… and at the same time comprehend the sight in front of her.

Atsumu’s bare ass. He was completely naked.

She is dropped onto his bed and is immediately pressed against the mattress with Atsumu’s body which somehow feels larger than usual, she feels so small under his body.

His mouth is hot and heavy on hers, his fingers already pulling and ripping off her clothes just to feel her naked flesh against his.

Y/n gasped, feeling his cock pressed against her abdomen, it sent a jolt to her pussy and she instantly felt herself wet.

Atsumu straddled her small body but kept his weight off of her. The only weight he had on her was the weight of his cock and heavy sacks against her lower abdomen. His eyes are glowing gold and dilated, a trait of an alpha in a rut cycle.

“Y/n,” he groaned, rocking his cock against her bare skin, seeking any sort of physical touch. He was fighting against losing control, he didn’t want to scare or hurt her. “I don’t want to hurt you… but my rut cycle… it can – I’ve been told I’m too rough… I might hurt you…”

Y/n cupped his cheek, “you will never hurt me, ‘Tsumu…”

He nuzzled against their palm, pressing a kiss to it. “I’m happy to hear… You’re made for me... right? You can take my everything I give you, right?”

She nodded her head like an obediently, eager to please. “Yes. Yes, I am made for you. I will take everything you give me, ‘Tsumu.” She widened her legs, offering herself to him, “hurry, give me your knot.”

Her approval and request are all Atsumu needed to hear to be tipped over the edge, to allow his rut cycle to take over and please Y/n.

He flipped her over onto her tummy and lift her ass, his palm came down onto her left cheek, making her yelp before moaning. He rubs his more than ready cock along her slits before pushing it deep within her warm pussy, stretching her to accommodate his rut-size cock.

Atsumu leaned over her, his whole body wrapped around hers from behind as he pressed a light kiss below her ear, murmuring, “relax for me…”

Y/n’s buried face against his comforters helped her control her breathing as she tried to accommodate the size change of his cock, something that was march larger and thicker than usual. Atsumu was already large and thick in the first place, but his rut-size cock was on another level.

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, feeling her ease up. He wasted no time ramming his cock, groaning as he nudged her cervix opening that immediately began spreading. “I’m going to knot you, baby. Give you the knot you deserve.” He leaned back, straightening himself before scooting them to the edge of the bed. He stepped off but kept Y/n remaining at the edge of the bed with her ass still in the same position, with that, he ram his knock repeatedly.

The bed squeaked along with the clapping of their skin on skin.

Atsumu’s fingers dug deeper into Y/n’s hips, pulling her back to meet his thrusts hard and fast, his cock stimulating quickly each time the tip of his cock would touch her cervix opening.

It wasn’t as common to knot on the first time but Atsumu is positive he will knot her. Her cervix has already propped open, encouraging and readily welcoming his knot.

And he will happily oblige.

He withdrew quickly, smirking at her whimper of emptiness. Flipping her onto her back, he smiled down at her and swiftly filled her with his cock once more. “I need to see your face the first time that I knot you.”

Her eyes enlarged, knowing knotting rarely occurred on the first try, at least for her during her rut cycle days.

“Your cervix has already opened for me,” he whispered hotly, fastening his hips. “Your body is ready for me, for my knot.”

Her eyes rolled back as he confirmed it, the tip of his cock pushed past her opening and locked in place. A loud moan escapes from Y/n’s lips as she tightens and curls against him.

His sack emptied its load of cum deep, filling her womb, breeding her.

Atsumu has been impatient, wanting to impregnate her soon, wanting to see her full and round. Wanting to meet their children who will take after Y/n.

He groaned in pain and pleasure. It was true to the rumors, knotting the person you love was different in all the best way possible. The intimate bond was indescribable.

His thumb massaged deep circles into her hip, trying to distract her from the pain of his knot. “You did so well, you’re taking my knot so well…” he murmured, pressing light kisses all over her face.

Atsumu is suddenly hit with a self-awareness of being selfish. He had never even discussed it with her about children yet, here, he had knotted her. It was a 99% chance of guaranteed pregnancy.

He dropped his head beside her and muttered an apology.

“Why are you sorry?” Y/n asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

He rolled them onto his back with her above him. He avoided her eyes, “I knotted you without asking if you would be okay with… being pregnant…” His eyes closed, unable to witness the expression she might give him.

“Atsumu, look at me.”

His eyes snapped open at the tone of her voice, one he had never heard her use on him. Panic surged through him as he searched her eyes. His eyes suddenly fell on her tits, noticing they looked slightly bigger than he remembered.

“My eyes, Atsumu, look at me.”

With flushed cheeks, he reverted his gaze to hers and swallowed. She shifted over his cock, his knot already begun to deflate.

“I had wanted to announce this much differently but… there’s no better time to announce it than now,” she giggled and reached for his hands and pressed them against her belly. “You see, I’m already pregnant.”

Atsumu’s world froze as he processed her last sentence. “Come – come again?”

Leaning down, she pressed her lips to his, “I’m already pregnant, Atsumu. We’re expecting.” Her eyes widened as she squealed, pressing her hands against his strong muscles. “Atsumu!” she shrieked. Atsumu’s cock that was still inside her had instantly become erect once again.

He groaned and pulled her down flushed against him. “My cock is just as excited…” That meant he would get to have all the raw sex, knowing his duty now is to supply her body with all his cum. Rocking his hips he slowly thrusts into her, ignoring how each time he withdrew, his cum would leak.

Y/n pushed against his chest until she settled on her elbows, trapping his head in between them. Her face hovers over his, “the doctor says my gender has officially changed, I’m an omega now. So, no more rut-cycles for me.”

“Good, you’re my omega now,” Atsumu thrust upward, his hand came around the back of her head and pressed her lips against his, “only mine.”

. . .

E/n: :)

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[disaster-writer]

Poison (Part 4/4)

Pairing: Alpha!Bokuto Koutarou x Beta!Reader

Summary: You loved love, but it wasn’t made for you… but maybe a certain Alpha could change your mind

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is the final part but there will be an epilogue. Thank you for all the support on this fic

AU: Omegaverse

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Bokuto blinked.

When did he get to his apartment?

And when did it start raining? He could have sworn the weather report said clear skies all day.

He reached for his duffle bag that hung from his shoulder, the weight of the rejected dangos and gift feeling heavier than they did this morning, and unzipped the small pocket at the front before fishing for his key.

He shoved the key in the lock, shut the door behind him and slid off his shoes, leaving them at the door.

His movements were rigid and automatic as he flicked the lights on and dropped his duffle bag onto the ground, leaving it behind him on the path he was on. He’ll put it in its proper spot later. 

He walked into the living room and plopped himself on his couch, the cushions dipping under his weight. The rain water that dampened his clothes soaked into the couch, drops of water dripping from his flattened hair. 

And… he just sat there, lost.

He stared at the palms of his hands. He had no idea what to do with himself.

For the last nine month his routine was to go to his family home and cook (or bake) for you with his sisters, and imagining what kind of reaction you’d give him on the way home when he gave it to you the following day.

Bokuto didn’t quite realize until now how much you really occupied his mind, because for the first time since he realized he’s had feelings for you, thinking about you felt wrong.

It felt like you’d hate him if you ever found out how much you were on his mind.

He pulled his phone out, reading the texts he knew he got on the train ride.

Tsum Tsum: Where are you??? We’ve been waiting by the train station for a damn half hour, how long does it take to hand over a couple gifts??

Star-pupil: ‘Is everything okay? Did she accept the stuff?’

Onee-chan : ‘Are you still coming over? Onee-chan and I started baking already’

He responded to all of them with the same simple words.

‘She said no.’

By the third time he typed out the message, his eyes had filled with tears.

With a sniffle, he turned off his phone for the night.

He doesn’t remember ever feeling this empty before.

He wanted to go to bed and sleep, even if it was only 5 o’clock, he wanted to sleep and not wake up for the next ten years in the hopes that his heart wouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

So he went to bed.

But he did anything but sleep.

Instead he had found himself wrapped up in a burrito of blankets, watching the movies that he recently bought.

They were all romantic comedies. 

All of your favorite movies from the list your sister gave him.

By the end of the first movie Bokuto couldn’t control his tears, the cheesy script about an Alpha and Beta falling in love, but the Beta not believing the Alpha was truly in love with her and that it’d never work, then seeing the Alpha fight for her love.

It hit too close to home. But he couldn’t stop watching.

He put in a second movie and then a third, somewhere along the way he had managed to dig up a sweater he took from you with the full intention of giving it back once it was drenched in his scent. He soaked the fabric with his tears, keeping his nose buried against it throughout the night.

He vaguely acknowledged the fact that he should be sleeping when he started the fifth movie.

But he wouldn’t until half way through the sixth and his body just couldn’t handle the physical and emotional exhaustion anymore.

Before falling asleep he couldn’t help believe that Ushiwaka was to blame for all of this.

When he had woken up in the morning it wasn’t to his alarm but a very irate Atsumu that had let himself into his home and bedroom.

”Get up,” Atsumu hissed, already dressed in his uniform, dropping Bokuto’s duffle bag on top of him, effectively waking him up.

It was sad really. All the tissues scattered around, some depressing movie playing in the background, while Bokuto was curled up like a baby with its blanket, but instead it was a sweater he had seen you wear more than once.

Nine months without an ounce of reciprocation hadn’t even managed to extract a hint of this kind of depression.

Bokuto grunted, rubbing his swollen eyes.

”What time—?”

”Almost ten, so get yer ass outta bed or we’re gonna be late.”

Bokuto shot out of bed, “TEN—“ 

Why didn’t his alarm go off— fuck, he forgot he turned his phone off.

Bokuto ran from room to room, toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he rifled through his drawers for clothes.

Atsumu’s eye twitched as he glanced at the time, “So, uh— Ya didn’t answer any of our texts last night,” he said, crossing his arms as he watched Bokuto running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

He pulled the toothbrush from his mouth, “I turned my phone off,” was all he replied with, putting the toothbrush back in to pull on his uniform shorts before running back into the bathroom.

”Ya gonna tell what happened or keep me in the dark?” He called out.

Bokuto spit the toothpaste from his mouth, coming out of the bathroom with his jersey on now. Atsumu standing up and passing his bag to his friend.

”There’s nothing to tell,” he replied sadly, walking out of the room with Atsumu in tow. “She thinks we’re incompatible because she’s a Beta and I’m an Alpha.” He rifled through his fridge, pulling out a bento he had meal prepped earlier in the week before shoving it into his bag.

”So what? Yer just gonna stop courtin’ her now because she thinks it wouldn’t work out between ya?” The idea sounded preposterous, this was the same man that relentlessly courted you for nine months straight when any other alpha would have called it quits after one week.

”She begged me to stop,” he replied bitterly, grabbing his phone from the living room as the two finally made their way out of his apartment, “Whatever Ushiwaka said when he rejected her made her not want to be with a ‘strong Alpha’… whatever that means.”

”Well the percentage of successful Alpha/Beta relationships is pretty low.”

Bokuto threw a glare over his shoulder at his friend.

He put his hands up in defense, “I’m just sayin’.”

”I know,” he snapped, “I’ve done some research. I just thought if she saw how much I liked her all of that wouldn’t matter. But it does… apparently Ushiwaka’s words mean more to her than my actions.” 

Atsumu narrowed his eyes, studying the back of Bokuto’s head. Something about how he said ‘Ushiwaka’ didn’t sit right with him.

Especially knowing they would be playing him in the match today.

”Yer not gonna let this fuck with ya today right? Not gonna fuck up our chance getting to the championship?”

Bokuto stopped in his tracks, Atsumu almost walking right into him. “You know ‘m not in high school anymore. I can control myself on the court Tsum Tsum.”

His scent was bitter.

Atsumu tensed his jaw. Bokuto was not alright.

”Fine.” He spat, “But I’m telling coach and Meian to keep an eye on you—“

Bokuto turned, gripping Atsumu’s arm, “So coach can pull me out the second he thinks I’m getting too emotional?” He spat, more malice than he had heard in his voice in a long time. “I’ll be fine— if you get me pulled out before I can beat the Adler’s today I’ll never forgive you.” He dropped his arm, practically throwing it before turning back around and continuing towards the train station.

Atsumu tsked. He certainly did not miss Bokuto saying ‘I’ instead of ‘we’.

Bokuto didn’t say much more than that as they climbed onto the train, hanging onto the hand rails as they went towards the gym.

They’d be late for their call time but they knew you always scheduled the bus to arrive a half hour after the players arrival.

You always played it safe like that, scheduling time to account for fuck ups.

The thought of you with your nose in your agenda, scheduling things like you always did caused a pang in his heart.

He used to imagine coming up behind you while you scribbled away, pulling you into his arms while you worked.

All those little fantasies he came up with were quickly crumbling before his eyes.

He sighed sadly, pulling his phone out and turning it on for the day.

As his phone loaded, notifications started flooding in. All texts from his teammates… it looked like pretty much everyone knew which he wasn’t surprised, of course telling Atsumu and Hinata would make the news spread like wildfire. He also had texts from his sisters and even his parents, which also didn’t surprise him all that much. The texts that did surprise him were Kuroo’s, Akaashi’s, and even Kenma’s.

Everyone knew.

He scrolled through the texts for a bit but they only proved to make him more irritated, especially after his conversation with Atsumu. 

Most of the messages were calling you an idiot or stupid, that he could do better, that he should pursue Omegas again and how you weren’t worth it.

He shoved his phone angrily into his bag.

No one got it. No one ever understood why he liked you. He knew his teammates thought it was a waste of time and energy but they weren’t there. They weren’t in that locker room when you walked in shyly and all flustered when you admitted you left your clothes at home and offered yourself for him to scent instead.

They weren’t the ones that held you in their arms that day and felt the anger wash away from them as an entirely new comforting feeling took place. You smelled like home. It was different from the sweet, enticing scent of an Omega’s. Yours was warm and inviting— it was everything he needed in that moment. He could remember so clearly how stiff you were at first but how you eventually melted into his arms, like you had never been held before.

Whenever someone found out he was courting a Beta they always seemed to ask how could he feel like a good, useful Alpha if he would be mated to a Beta, who were typically known for being independent. 

But they didn’t know you wanted to be held.

He had to be the one to tell you he should go back to the match, you had been falling asleep in his arms as he ran his nose along your neck and breathed you in, clinging to his arms that were wound around your waist.

You didn’t want to leave either.

Seeing you turn back into your normal, professional self hadn’t been easy after that, but it was all the more reason to start courting you.

He wanted to feel you melt in his arms again while he scented you.

”Ya alright man?” Atsumu asked carefully, peering at Bokuto’s face. His eyes were red.

He sniffled, “‘M fine… Sorry about before,” he added as an afterthought.

”It’s fine. I get it,” He replied as the train came to a stop.

The two Alphas got off the train and made their way to the gym. It was 10:20.

They were late.

”Man— we’re so fuckin’ late. Now she’s gonna nag us the entire ride there,” Atsumu groaned.

Him, Atsumu, and Hinata tended to be on the receiving end of your scoldings as the three were always either late or not where they were supposed to be.

It was the reason you started scheduling everyone to arrive a half hour early before games, after having to hold the bus up for the three when you had first started working with them.

Bokuto wasn’t sure what he expected or wanted. You’d probably go back to being the same old professional you with that unreadable facade of yours. You’d probably yell at him and Atsumu for being late, not bothering to acknowledge what happened yesterday.

Or maybe you’d be kinder, give a gentle reminder to come in on time before discussing today’s details with the coach.

What happened was much worse.

Both he and Atsumu stepped into the gym and you…

You didn’t even look at him.

It caught Atsumu off guard as well. Realizing you weren’t marching over to them to reprimand their lateness he slid his eyes over to his friend.

He was just staring at you.

”C’mon,” Atsumu grunted, grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the other players that were standing around.

Bokuto felt stuck in a daze, eyes continuing to follow you as Atsumu dragged him around.

You were dressed in your business casual like you always were on game days as you’d be on camera and also talking to representatives of the teams’ sponsors that were in attendance. Your hair was in one of your little tight buns that often made him wonder what you’d look like with your pretty hair down and framing your face.

You were talking to the coach and one of the athletic trainers.

You still didn’t look at him.

Ami also stood next to you, raising a hand towards him in a small wave. She wore a sad frown.

He waved back still caught in a daze.

”Did you get any sleep last night?” Hinata asked, pulling Bokuto back into the present.

He was eyeing Bokuto up and down, taking in his sorry state. 

“Some,” he responded with, finally managing to look away from you.

”This is a joke right?” Sakusa looked over to Atsumu, clearly irritated. “She did this the day before an Adler’s game?”

”Don’t get me started on that,” Atsumu grumbled, “I think that’s the most unbelievable part in all this.”

Tomas clapped Bokuto on the back, “Chin up man. This kind of stuff happens all the time, what’s important is focusing on today’s game.”

Inunaki nodded, “Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea and all that y’know.”

”But I like her,” Bokuto said, furrow in his brow as he stared at his feet.

”Maybe you can ask out her sister?” Joffe suggested, “You two seem to get along.”

”I already called dibs!” Atsumu cut in.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, “She’s clearly not interested in idiots.”

Bokuto was surrounded by his team, by his friends, but he had never felt so isolated.

As they bickered over Ami, Bokuto dragged his eyes back towards you, looking over his shoulder.

Your back was to him now as you talked to your sister.

It looked like you two were arguing.

”C’mon Bokuto, that’s enough,” Barnes gripped his shoulder, “I know it hurts now but now that it’s out in the open you can finally move on.”

Move on.

He supposed that’s what was expected of him now.

But he didn’t want to move on.

”Right,” he said. The word felt empty.

The ride to the stadium was all too fast and all too slow. 

He sat where he usually did in the back with Hinata, Atsumu, and Sakusa, while you sat at the front with your sister.

Every once in a while you would turn, giving him a view of your pretty profile that he had grown so used to seeing.

He didn’t understand why whatever Ushiwaka told you changed how you viewed dating Alphas so much.

What could he have said that broken you so much that you haven’t tried dating again for four whole years.

And why were you still listening to him.

Bokuto was a better Alpha than Ushiwaka, he was kinder and respected everyone not bothering to pay so much attention to the hierarchy that was the second gender. Traditional Alphas such as Ushijima had that hierarchy so ingrained in them that they only respected those they deemed worthy of it.

Was Bokuto not even good enough for you to reconsider something one Alpha told you once.

What made Ushijima Wakatoshi better than him. 

Were you just subconsciously following the stronger Alpha?

Ami suddenly turned in her seat, glancing at him before whispering something in your ear.

Atsumu grabbed Bokuto by the shoulder and shook him from his thoughts. “Ya gotta calm down. Yer scent is startin’ to stink up the bus and it’s scarin’ the Omega,” he nodded in Ami’s direction as she glanced back again.

Bokuto groaned, dipping his head and burying his face in his hands.

”I know we already talked about it, but yer sure ya’ll be fine?”

”It’ll be different when I’m on court,” is all he responded with.

It will be different.

It’ll be completely different when he’s standing across from Ushijima.

By the time they arrived and the bus parked, you were already running off with Ami. Probably to find her seat or start networking like you usually did at these games.

They had two hours before the game would start. They’d spend an hour getting situated and another hour warming up and doing all the pep talks. You would probably come back a half hour before the start time.

Bokuto did all the things expected of him. He did his best to focus on the conversations between his friends. Hinata was excited to see Kageyama again, the two making plans to eat out and inviting anyone else that wants to come.

He listened to his teammates attempts at trying to make him feel better. Once again calling you stupid and an idiot for not wanting to go out with him. These guys were supposed to respect you as a colleague and here they were insulting you for his sake.

He couldn’t understand why they thought that would make him feel better.

But after settling in for a bit and ignoring the consolations he started to feel a bit better. He knew he had to get into game mode and if his past has taught him anything it was that letting your emotions run rampant on court often lead to many fuck ups.

But he had matured since high school. He learned how to regulate his emotions and keep his instincts in check since then.

He was an adult now. He played volleyball professionally. He can separate his personal life from his professional life.

The game was about to start. Warm ups had gone smoothly and everyone, including Bokuto, was focused.

They were all going to be called onto the court soon.

The energy was ramping up as Meian concluded his speech in the locker room, all the players cheering for the win they knew they would be getting today.

”(Y/N) should be in any minute now to call us out, so get any last minute bathroom breaks or anything else out of the way now.” Meian announced.

”I’m gonna fill my bottle in the hallway,” Bokuto said, standing up.

”Yer already done with that?” Atsumu laughed, smacking his back, “Ya gonna piss all over the court?”

Bokuto laughed. It was strained, but he still managed a laugh.

He ran out into the hallway with his bottle and towards the water fountain, beginning to fill it up.

Screwing the top back on and aiming to head back inside, he looked up.

He stopped, head tilting.

It was you and Ushiwaka standing at the end of the hallway, talking.

Smiling.

You hadn’t even looked at him today but you were smiling at Ushijima.

He took a step towards the two of you then stopped.

He clenched his fist tight, his chest feeling tight and constricted before deciding to go back to the locker room.

He couldn’t help but feel that maybe he really just wasn’t good enough for you.

You walked in two minutes later, standing in the doorway.

”Alright guys, time to get out there!” You exclaimed. The others all cheered as they ran out while you shouted encouragements as usual.

Time seemed to slow down as he passed by you.

”Good luck, Bokuto-san,” you said, quieter than your other encouragements to everyone else.

Bokuto-san 

He was no longer Koutarou to you. He was Koutarou for all of ten minutes of your life and now he would forever be Bokuto-san.

He didn’t reply.

He couldn’t as his eyes searched and landed on only one person throughout the stadium. He wouldn’t look away, not even when he stood across from him on the court.

Bokuto had completely locked onto Ushiwaka.

“Bokkun,” Atsumu called out as a warning as he stood beside him.

”I’m fine.” He snapped.

”Ya better be,” he grumbled under his breath.

Bokuto had always been emotional. Everyone always chalked it up to his instincts, and maybe they were right. But he rarely got angry like most Alphas did. He was more likely to find himself sad and depressed.

But right now as he stared down Ushiwaka, an anger that was buried down so deep was being dug up.

An anger he didn’t even know that lived inside him.

It was raw and dangerous and—

Feral.

* * * *

25 - 25

The first set was officially going into overtime.

Coach Samson shook his head, “The Adler’s got ‘em,” he grumbled under his breath, “We’re gonna have to bench Bokuto.”

You swallowed uneasily, heart pounding in your chest.

”I think you’re right,” you breathed out.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen such reckless plays be made by Bokuto your entire time with MSBY.

He just seemed so angry.

”I don’t understand what happened,” Samson said, leaning forward as he watched the game with scrutinizing eyes, “He was playing better than ever in yesterday’s practice.”

You tensed your jaw.

You fucked up.

Your phone buzzed. 

Ami: ‘I told you you should’ve told him this morning that you changed your mind’

You were going to be sick.

You really fucked up.

You texted back furiously. 

‘I can fucking see that now. I thought it could wait until after, I didn’t think he was gonna be like this’

Ami: ‘I told you this is what Alphas do. Can you call a time out or something? Tell him you’ll go on a date with him and send them back out there’

You scoffed at your phone.

”Shit,” Samson hissed. The ref blew the whistle.

Your head snapped up at break neck speed.

27-25 Adlers 

Your phone buzzed again.

Ami: ‘TELL HIM NOW!!!!’

There was a knot in your throat as you watched the team return to the bench with their heads down and fists clenched.

There was clearly a lot of animosity brewing between the players. Bokuto had been recklessly locked onto Ushijima and aiming his hits at him, causing them to miss multiple points.

They probably could have won if it wasn’t for that.

Atsumu had lost his cool long ago right at the start when he realized what was going on, snapping and shouting at Bokuto the longer the set went on. Meian was stuck having to mediate between the two and Sakusa, Hinata, and Inunaki were growing more and more irate.

They were barely recognizable as a team in their emotional states.

Ami was right. You wanted to talk to him after the game and in private to let him know you had thought longer about going out with him. You wanted to tell him that you were wrong, you were stupid and an idiot for allowing an Alpha like Ushijima to disillusion you for so long and keep you from the things you truly wanted. 

You wanted it to be a bit more romantic when you were planning out what you were going to say in your head and you knew both you and him needed to focus today but clearly you’ve already put this conversation off for too long.

You stood up alongside Samson as the team reached the bench.

“Bokuto!” Samson snapped, standing up and meeting the group with you following not far behind. “What’s gotten into you!?”

”I’m fine,” he kept his head down.

”No, you’re not fine. I know you have better game sense than that! You practically handed over the winning point!”

”Bench him!” Atsumu spat, “He’s gonna cost us the championship!”

”You’re not helping Miya,” Samson snapped back. “You need to calm down too, you could have set to Hinata back there. You’re letting Bokuto’s mood influence you.” He turned back to Bokuto, “I’m pulling you out of the next set until you cool down—“

Bokuto’s head snapped up, ”I said I’m fine! I have to keep playing, I’m gonna win this!”

”Not like that you aren’t! You’re gonna sit and (Y/N)’s gonna give you something to scent until you cool down, understood?”

”But I—!”

”Understood?” He cut him off with a hiss.

Bokuto’s jaw tensed, locking as he gave a curt nod. 

You cleared your throat, “Bokuto-san, I would like to speak with you privately—“

”Oh please,” Atsumu sneered, turning to you. “Plannin’ on makin’ this worse? Yer the whole reason why we’re in this mess in the first place,” he took a step towards you, puffing his chest out, “Would it have really been that hard to break his heart after the match?”

You took a step back, eyes widened, ”Hey, I—“

”Get away from her,” Bokuto suddenly stepped in front of you, pushing Atsumu back by his shoulders, “She did nothing wrong!”

Atsumu pushed him back, getting in his face, “Did nothing wrong!?” He spat back, “She rejected ya of all people before an Adler’s game! How fuckin’ brain dead is she—“

Atsumu’s head flew to the side, face suddenly radiating with a burning, bruising pain.

His top lip was wet. 

Bokuto fucking punched him.

Your jaw hung open as you watched the complete chaos that ensued. Meian was holding Bokuto back from trying to attack Atsumu, Sakusa was suddenly holding Atsumu back as he looked as if he was about to attack back.

You stared at Bokuto, his face red, a snarl screwing up his features as the tendons in his neck bulged as he tried to get Atsumu.

It was scary.

You don’t think you’ve ever thought Bokuto was scary before— 

”Coach,” Meian suddenly barked, “I think he might be going feral!”

”Get him to the locker room!” He called back.

There were referees suddenly approaching you.

It felt like your ears were filled with cotton as you barely caught anything they were telling you as you watched Meian and some of the other players haul Bokuto away as he continued to struggle in their hold.

”(Y/N)!” You were suddenly jolted from the daze you were in. “Calm him down, give him the clothes off your back if you have to.”

”Right!” 

You went into action and ran after them, ignoring the ref’s.

You left the duffle bag of clothing you always brought under the bench.

You were barely thinking as you started unbuttoning the blouse you were wearing and ripping it off, leaving you in your tank top.

The second you were close enough and that locker room door was being opened, you threw your blouse in just after Bokuto was being shoved through and locked inside.

”What was that?” Meian asked you, panting as he made sure the door was shut tight.

Bokuto was throwing his body against the door from the other side, making it shake in it’s frame.

”My shirt. My scent should be stronger on it since I’ve been wearing it all day. Get back to the court, I’ll take care of him from here.”

“You sure, it sounds like he getting pretty violent in there.”

You nodded, “I’m a Beta, my whole selling point is being able to calm down Alphas.”

”Alright, I’ll leave him to you then.” He said with a nod before running back to the court.

Your attention was brought back to the locker room and the loud, harsh bangs and thuds that emitted from the room.

“What a mess,” you groaned, leaning against the wall beside the door.

Atsumu was right, this was all your fault.

Yesterday, in the moment it felt crueler to let his crush on you drag on any longer. And it didn’t feel right to tell him you had gone and changed your mind after the fucking waterworks you pulled knowing he had a game to focus on.

You just didn’t want to be a distraction— you didn’t realize how that would come back to bite you in the ass.

And now you just felt like a bitch.

You slid to the ground, sitting on the floor, waiting for Bokuto to quiet down. You’d eventually go in there to assess the situation for yourself, you’d let him scent you if he was still too far gone in his emotional state, and you’d tell him you changed your mind hoping he didn’t hate you too much because of it.

You watched the next set start from where you sat. It seemed they managed to clean up Atsumu and get him back in the game.

You hadn’t even thought about the entire team being pissed at you for turning Bokuto down before an Adler’s game… Atsumu had never yelled at you before.

It seemed the reputation you built was crumbling before your eyes.

1-0 Adlers 

2-4 Adlers

6-5 Adlers

7-6 MSBY

7-7

8-7 MSBY

Bokuto was quiet.

It took you a few minutes with all the excitement of your team turning the set in their favor for you to realize Bokuto was quiet.

You slid over to the door and pressed your ear against it.

Nothing.

Your breath hitched, heart steadily beginning to beat faster in your chest.

You stood up and with shaky hands you unlocked the door, quietly slipping in.

The room was almost eerily quiet as there was no sign of him.

The locker room was turned inside out. Lockers were dented in, the players belongings were scattered all over the place, some of which being torn to shreds.

He had even managed to get one end of the bolted down bench up.

The bloody tracks on the lockers didn’t go unnoticed by you either.

”Bokuto-san?” You called out gently, venturing in deeper into the locker room.

There was no reply, but it didn’t take you very long to find him after that.

In the far corner of the locker room, Bokuto had managed to wedge himself into a corner between two sets of lockers.

He was missing his jersey, covered in a layer of sweat, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths with his nose buried in the collar of your blouse like a life line. His eyes were red and swollen as if he had been crying. 

Your blouse was covered in blood stains from the open wounds on his knuckles.

And those sad, puppy eyes from yesterday found you once more.

Your shoulders slumped at the sorry sight, heart clenching painfully for him.

You walked over to him, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

You didn’t know what to say, “… Would you like to scent me?” You offered, doubtful he’d take you up on the offer after yesterday.

He stared at you for a long while with those sad eyes before nodding.

You shuffled over, kneeling before him— he had pulled you into his arms, turning you around to sit between his legs as he buried his nose into your neck. 

And you sat like that for a few minutes, letting him calm down as he held you and breathed in your scent.

It didn’t bother you that he was covering you in his sweat or what felt suspiciously like tears wetting your neck. He had clearly had a very rough and emotional twenty four hours and you wanted to be there for him.

The feeling of being held in his arms with his face against your neck was familiar. You had chosen to block out the memory, chalking it up as you helping another co-worker but you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to be held.

You melted against him.

”I… may have changed my mind,” you forced out. His body stiffened around you, tensing at your words but he didn’t reply. You never wished more to have the same sense of smell as an Alpha or Omega just so you could know how he was feeling.

But you didn’t, so you had to do this the only way you knew how.

”After yesterday I went home and told Ami everything that happened and… well, she got really mad at me and we ended up talking for a very, very long time,” you sighed, “You see I… I never told anyone what Ushiwaka told me the day he rejected me and since that’s why I rejected you yesterday, Ami forced me to tell her what he had said all those years ago… and after telling her, I felt like you deserved to know too.”

You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself, “He told me relationships between Alphas and Betas weren’t real. There would always be a better, more suitable mate for them out there and once they found that then the Beta would be replaced. He went into detail after that as to why it wouldn’t work out, which was all the typical stuff you hear about scents and ruts… I’ve done years and years of research into relationships between both Alphas and Betas and Betas and Omegas before, I knew all the arguments as to why they don’t work but I never thought of myself as being replaceable…” your voice wavered, “I’ve dreamed about meeting the right person and falling in love since I was little and I just… I don’t want to be a placeholder until someone better comes along,” you sniffled, a couple tears slipping from your eyes.

”I would never do that to you,” Bokuto murmured against your neck, voice raw and raspy.

You found your hand squeezing one of the arms wrapped around you.

”After I told Ami that, she reminded me of something that I’ve always known but I guess I managed to forget,” you continued, wiping at your face with your free hand. “My great grandmother was a Beta— that’s where the gene comes from. And my great grandfather… he was an Alpha… I grew up listening to stories about them, I was always more interested in their relationship than my siblings were. My great grandma died when she was 59 and he died at 96. He never remarried. My grandma said her father loved her mother too much to ever think about another woman.” You cried, “And then I just kept remembering all these super crazy romantic stories about them and they had their own issues come up but they never stopped loving each other and I realized last night… There’s no reason why I shouldn’t at least try dating an Alpha if they were able to do it. So… if you’re not too upset with me for putting you through such an emotional rollercoaster, I would like to ask you out on a date Bokuto-san.” 

The feeling of asking someone out and wearing your heart on your sleeve felt so familiar, you were already prepared for a rejection.

”Koutarou,” he softly corrected.

“Kota,” you shortened, biting back a watery grin, “Would you like to go out with me on Valentine’s Day to see a movie and eat cake for dinner?”

”Yes,” he breathed out, “More than anything else.”

”Okay,” you nodded, “Then it’s a date. I’m sorry for being stubborn and acting like an idiot.”

He hugged you close to his chest, “You’re not an idiot.”

You swore you could feel him smile against your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, sitting in his arms as he nosed at your neck, prodding at your scent gland and reaching a more emotionally stable state for him. It was the end of the third set before you managed to get him up and help him finish pulling himself together before sending him out on court with kiss to his cheek and an exchange of hopeful smiles.

You loved love.

And as you watched Bokuto score the winning point before turning to you with his finger pointed in your direction, you were beginning to think it was meant for you after all.

————————————————————————

Epilogue

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