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vi-britanniaa · 3 years ago

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in which kiyoomi sakusa is inlove with you.

fem!reader, fluff, angst, established relationship, mentions of cheating, suggestive (?), not good with tags im new here im so sawrry 😩, just pain (did not proofread this btw)

sakusa is inlove with you.

no one knows how and why it happened. he just woke up one day, and somehow, his grade conscious classmate looked and felt different. your eyes are sparkling, your lips made his stupid heart race, your voice isn't so annoying anymore. he doesn't care if you take his coffee, but will put atsumu to hell if he ever does that. he doesn't care if you play with his curls, but will look at people with disgust if they do that to him.

god, he is inlove with you.

so when he asked you out on a date when the both of you turned 3rd year, you couldn't reject it. because maybe you felt the same, you love him too. you love his introvert ass who hated attention but still turned out to be japan's number one ace at such a young age, initially getting all the attention around itachiyama and the whole prefecture. you love taking his coffee away from him just because you're too lazy to get yours from itachiyama's bending machine that is literally just outside your classroom. you love his curls, they're cute and makes him look prettier. you love his paralleled moles in his forehead, kissing it when he falls asleep in your lap.

from then, the relationship that you two had was stable. it was mature, understanding, all-knowing. full of trust. his fangirls hated you, but you couldn't care less because you were so sure that kiyoomi sakusa only ever loved you. he never missed a day in assuring you.

“kiyoomi, can we take a selfie?” a regular watcher of his games approached after the match. you know the girl, you've seen her too many times. you're even sure that even your boyfriend knows her already. she always asks for a picture after the game, like today. especially today. because itachiyama just won their match and will finally had the chance to claim the championship in the interhigh again after falling short last seasons.

sakusa eyes you, waiting for a response. you almost laughed before nodding at him. he didn't really have to do that. you really don't mind. but, you think its his way of giving respect for to you.

they took a selfie again and bid their thank yous after. kiyoomi immediately pulled himself out of the crowd to finally go to you, pulling you into a tight hug. he's fucking sweaty, but still smells like mint and fruit. you couldn't pinpoint what fruit. you just know that this perfume came from jo malone. his personal favorite.

“congrats, baby.” you whispered, pressing a kiss on his cheeks.

omi chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead, “thank you, and thank you for watching. how was the admission exam?”

“i still don't know. results will be out in a month but i'm pretty confident. i reviewed a lot.” you answered. you came to the game after finishing a qualifying exam to tokyo university. if sakusa wants to build a career in volleyball, your dream was to build a career in medicine. two completely different paths, but you couldn't imagine going through it without him.

he nodded, “i'm sure you'll be accepted. it's you.”

“i hope so, omi.”

life was surely unpredictable... and cruel. that year, itachiyama failed to bring home the championship once again. kiyoomi wouldn't take it to heart for a long time, you know that. but with the results of the admission exam being released on the same day and figuring out that you did not get in to your dream university— that hurts him more.

seeing you sob quietly in your dorm as he hugs you tight. it hurts more for him.

sakusa knows the security he has with volleyball, that even if he failed today, that loss won't define his whole career after training so hard for years. as long as he did his best, he won't have any regrets. your situation was different. tokyo university is your childhood dream. you prepared your whole life for this. pulled all-nighters, drank tons of caffeine for examinations, wrote your reviewers until your hands calouses appears, tried to get all the extracurricular activities that could give you extra merits, and still... you failed.

kiyoomi doesn't know what to say. god, he's just equally heartbroken for you. he hates seeing you like this.

“do you want something to eat?” he finally gathered the courage to speak after you calmed down for a bit, “you haven't eaten your dinner, baby. tell me what you want, i'll go for a drive and come back immediately.”

“i am not hungry, kiyoomi.” you told him.

“even if you are not, it's bad to skip dinner without a proper diet. i'll get you something light and come back, is that okay?” he asked, yet tightens his hug around you, “i love you so much. you are amazing, and hardworking and i know that these words won't be able to comfort you right now. but i hope you know that i believe in you. i still believe in you. your dreams will still be possible,”

“it hurts so much...” you started tearing up again, “i worked so hard for it...”

“i know. i know, baby,” sakusa whispered, “i love you...”

“we won't be going to the same uni anymore, omi.” you told him. kiyoomi sakusa is being recruited to tokyo university's mens volleyball team. it would be perfect to attend the same school with him again. but this time, it would be impossible.

“that's nothing.” he answers, “nothing will change.”

with kiyoomi sakusa, everything felt easier. even if you feel horrible today, you know that you will feel better tomorrow with him around. he helps you in every single thing. breakfast, ironing, gym— which is his favorite thing to do back then, and even tying your shoelaces.

you were together at every stage of your lives. prom, graduation, graduation ball, his acceptance in tokyo university because of his outstanding performance in both academics and volleyball, your acceptance in osaka university. his mvp award at the japan national collegiate volleyball championship, his recruitment in msby black jackals.

“congrats, omi,” you chuckled, hugging him tight, “it's not a surprise but i am so proud of you.”

“you always say that it's not a surprise whenever i win something,” he chuckled.

“because it's not!” you said, “that's just japan's number one ace for you... doing his thing...” you cupped his cheeks, “i can't wait to watch you at the olympics. you'll be there sooner than you expected, i just know.”

kiyoomi held your hand a planted a soft kiss on your knuckles, bringing butterflies in your stomach as he whispers, “i'll marry you.”

silence embraced the two of you. you didn't know how to respond to that. you're unsure if that's just a spur of the moment statement or he actually meant it. sakusa stares back at your eyes, “i'll marry you, once you're ready.”

“you will?” you pulled youself together and smiled at him.

he nodded, “just watch, i will really marry you.”

“you can wait? let's say... for eight more years?” you asked. it was a joke, but it's not impossible considering the amount of time that you have to dedicate to become a doctor.

“i can wait for a hundred years and i won't change my mind, baby.” kiyoomi answered and smiled, “eight years is a piece of fucking cake. i do not care, as long as i will marry you after all of this.”

you believe him. because that's kiyoomi sakusa.

he never once failed you. always keeping his word, always running to you. even after a match, if he knows that you're on a graveyard shift for your internship, he will visit you just to give you food and coat. in which some of your colleagues giggled over. it's rare to see msby black jackals' most promising rookie.

you yawned, “thank you for coming today. i know you're tired from the game.”

“not anymore,” he chuckled, pulling you into a tight hug, “i hope you're taking care of yourself. you should sleep and eat properly, you big baby.”

“you too.” you chuckled, “and don't take atsumu seriously all the damn time, that's why he's always making fun of you,”

kiyoomi made a face, “wanna take you home...”

“i'm sorry, i have to finish my shift.” you hugged him tighter. you miss him too, so much, that it's killing you. the both of you have been very busy with you doing your internship and omi consistently training for his matches. you miss him so much. you want to go home with him too. you want to kiss him for the whole night and make love. but you have to prioritize your internship first.

“no need to apologize, i understand, baby.” he whispered.

being with omi is like sailing in a calm sea. there's no reason to be afraid because you know that whatever happens, you'll see each other home. at the end of the day, you'll take a peaceful sleep beside him, with his arms around you and making you feel safe. you'll welcome another cozy and lazy morning with him, brushing your teeth as a morning routine and showering butterfly kisses to each other.

kiyoomi tugs your bottom lip using his, chuckling at that before showering kisses on your neck. this is just another weekend where the both of you doesn't have anything to do and when he's bored, he does the most unbelievable things. like putting hickeys on your neck.

“kiyoomi!” you laughed, “i have work tomorrow...”

“stop talking about work.” he said, “kiss me.”

you reached for his nape, pulling him close and chuckling with him as your lips collided with his once again. kissing sakusa is like hearing fireworks. it's been years since your first kiss, but the effect it had on you is still the same. when he starts caressing your waist, igniting the flame even more, you know you'd end up under his mercy once again.

he loves hearing you call his name desparately, begging him to give you what you want. it is the only moment where you're reversed because kiyoomi knows that beyond all of this, he's always the one who will answer all of your whims. sometimes, he thinks that he's more head over heels for you and that's okay. he loves being head over heels for you. he loves being inlove with you.

every summer, you and kiyoomi would go to your favorite beach, spending a day or two beside the quiet shore. taking each other's pictures using your film camera. after that, you would take the film rolls and have it processed, putting it in a memory box you kept through the years.

“we have to buy a new box, kiyoomi,” you said, taking a look at your old photographs with him, “i remember this!”

“when was that?” sakusa asked, “oh! your fangirl phase!”

“suck it up, i was never your fangirl.” you told him and laughed, “everyone would go gaga over you in itachiyama but i am not one of them. i never understood the hype...”

he made a face towards you, “you're lucky.”

“you're luckier, i literally had a crush on inarizaki's captain back then and i still ended up with your lucky ass...” you chuckled, “let's get a new box next weekend.”

his eyebrows furrowed, “who the fuck?”

you burst out laughing at his reaction.

kiyoomi sakusa easily gets jealous. something you will never understand because you know that he knows that you will only ever love him. still, when you seem so close to his teammates, like miya atsumu, he will start feeling something hateful in his stomach.

one time, you visited kiyoomi in his training with the jackals and brought food for the whole team. they have a match with adlers next week, with hinata shoyo playing his game for the first time. you know hinata from high school, he made such an impression in his games but he's very different from your boyfriend who doesn't seem to approachable at first glance.

miya atsumu, on the other hand, ate the food you brought immediately, giving comments as if he's a professional food guru and bokuto came mocking him. it's easy to be friends with omi's teammates.

“omi-omi's not in a good mood!” until atsumu pointed that out again. you looked over to your boyfriend who has this annoyed look on his face, trying to make the volley ball hit the floor harder than what he usually does, when it hits the floor and it made such a loud thud, atsumu gasps, “calm the fuck down, sakusa! you're nasty!”

atsumu leans forward to your ear, “he's jealous.”

“right.” you chuckled and sighed, watching kiyoomi.

he ignored you all throughout, doesn't even spare you a glance once you reach home and went straight to bed after cleaning up. lying down, you tried to hug his waist but he pushed your hands away, “omi, i don't even know why you're so worked up.”

“ask miya, maybe he'd know since you're best friends with him.” he uttered, yawning.

“you're jealous of atsumu? come on, be serious!” you said, laughing, “atsumu? really?”

“shut up.” he firmly said, “i'm going to sleep.”

“so we are not gonna talk about this and go to sleep like this? okay,” you scoffed, “i visited you, not anyone else. i am trying to be friends with them because they are your friends too, omi. i'm sorry.”

you lied down, turning your back away from him as well. the shut up was a little harsh. you couldn't help but tear up a little because of the frustration. you know that sakusa can be quite a handful with his choice of words and you understand that it's a bit of a struggle for him to communicate but it's still hurts. he's not always like this but when he is, you know that he's seriously mad.

your tears quietly fell through your cheeks to your pillow. you hate fighting with kiyoomi. you hate enduring a cold night when it could've been warm with him beside you. you hate nights like this, and kiyoomi hates it just as much. so, he turns over and slowly hugged you.

“i'm sorry, that was mean.” he whispered, “god, i'm so petty... i'm so sorry, baby...”

you faced him, his lips parted when he saw a stain of tears beside your eyes. he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, “i'm sorry. i should've been more thankful that you took the time to visit us when—”

“no, no,” you immediately stopped him, “your feelings are valid too, baby.”

he sighed, “but it wasn't valid to be that rude. i'm sorry,”

kiyoomi is prideful. everyone knows that. he has a reason for that. but, when it comes to you, he will always fold and eventually give in.

the love you had for each other isn't perfect. in fact, it's the complete opposite. it's flawed, so flawed that the both of you endured so many things. the stagnant days, the worst days. days when you want to walk away, days when he wants to be alone. your love is so flawed and that's okay, because a perfect relationship is nonexistent. a perfect relationship is fictional.

your love is flawed, but you kept choosing each other everyday.

“i failed. again.”

“baby, it's okay. you can always try again. let's not get tired. you can still—”

“you don't understand, sakusa.” kiyoomi's ears rang as you call him again by his last name, he stared at your empty eyes, swollen from crying the whole day. he didn't know. fuck, he didn't know. he was busy with training and their coach took their phones away.

“baby, i know. but—”

“you do not understand because you never felt like a failure.” you said, “because you are good at everything you do. because your dreams are not dreams anymore, they are already your reality. you don't understand.”

“what do you mean, then?” he asks, “that i did not work hard for this? nothing was handed to me in a silver platter. i went to tokyo university because i worked hard for it. i was able to achieve shit because i worked hard for it! and i am not saying that you did not work hard for this just because you failed but please stop invalidating my hard work!”

tears started streaming down your face, “don't put words in my mouth.”

“i am tired of this,” he remarked.

“me too.” you answered back, catching his eyes.

but what happens when you stop choosing each other everyday? what happens if love isn't enough anymore? what happens if it gets too tiring? what happens it kiyoomi sakusa isn't in love with you anymore?

“what happened to us?” you whispered under your breath, in the silence of the apartment and his guilty eyes, kiyoomi shook his head, unable to answer the question. you looked at him. the curly haired boy who used to love you so much felt like a stranger.

it has been three months. three months of trying to make things work out for the sake of invested time and memories. three months of trying to feel his warmth, three months of trying to run after him, three months of trying to know him again. but each second and millisecond of those three months just felt like he's further drifting away.

“there's someone else, right?” you asked.

he shuts his eyes and the silence answered you. oh my fucking god, it hurts. you don't even know how much it hurts, but it hurts, nonetheless. it hurts so much that you felt it in your veins, in your bones. it hurts so much because you already knew— this is over. and he's just waiting for you to walk away so he doesn't have to.

you stood up, “i'll... be going.”

“where? baby...” fuck you. your hands are shaking as you look at him again in disbelief. sakusa stands up, looking at you again, “i can leave instead—”

“no, this is your apartment. i'll leave.” you firmly said. silence embraced the two of you again and you wished for this to end already. it's too much, too much. you turned your back and immediately took the things you could for the meantime. sakusa waits in the sala.

your sobs became more clear when you saw the memory box below the bed. all of this... just to end it so horribly. all of this... just for it to be nothing. all of this... just for him to kiss another woman just because you're in a slump. all of this... just for him to fell out of love.

and there's nothing you can do.

was it your fault? was it his fault? was it anyone's fault? was it because of the things you said after failing the licensure examination? you were unsure. because you're sure as hell that no matter what the fuck is his reason, you do not deserve this bullshit.

maybe you make things complicated. maybe it was just a simple equation after all.

because maybe, sakusa kiyoomi just really fell out of love.

“i'm sorry,” he whispered once you went out of the room, preparing to really leave this apartment where you built your dreams together, “i'm really really sorry.”

you looked at him, “what went wrong, omi?”

he shuts his eyes tightly, before looking at yours again, “i don't love you anymore.”

#sakusa kiyoomi #Angst

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vi-britanniaa · 3 years ago

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Heated

you aren't going to let anything come in the way of your first big solo interview. at least that's what you think, until you meet a certain black jackals outside hitter who triggers something deep inside you...

pairing: alpha!sakusa kiyoomi x omega!female reader, nsfw a/b/o pwp, 5.7k (as usual, 18+, mdni)

warnings: unprotected sex (birth control mention), fated pairs because i'm a sucker for it, creampie (knotting), biting and marking/claiming, idk it's pretty vanilla so have fun

notes: written for @daichidaichidaichi's "in heat" collab—masterpost found here!

thank you to: @anime-nymph, @vanille--kiss and @kinsurou for betaing this for me <3 and for other members of the church of meian for helping me with the dynamics because this is my first a/b/o piece ever ahhh

tagging: @hqintheclub

sister fic: fated featuring atsumu from this universe!

You had been so excited when your boss asked you to attend the annual end of the year awards ceremony for the V. League. It was a big step up from the little interviews you had attended here and there and you accepted without a second thought. It had already been hard to get this job—being an Omega in an Alpha-dominated sports field had made people look down on you and your abilities at first—but you kept your head down, dismissed the little whispers behind your back, and worked your way up to this opportunity for over a year now.

You make sure to wear your best floor-length dress, heels a bit too tall so you won’t seem out of place with the giant players around you, and your over-the-shoulder bag is packed with your tape recorder, microphone, question list, and emergency suppressant medicine. You check that everything is in place one more time before the car pulls up to your apartment, resolve burning in your veins. You aren’t going to let anything interrupt your biggest chance to get your name out there, not if you could help it.

When your car arrives at the hotel, you try not to show how out of place you feel. Everyone here is so attractive: models hanging off of players’ arms, getting their pictures taken; brand name suits everywhere you can see, wrists and necks dripping with expensive watches and jewelry; confident (and dare you say cocky) smiles as they make their way inside. You follow in their stead, waving to your co-worker Yamaguchi as he takes pictures of the entrants. He mouths something that looks like ‘I’ll find you later’ and you give him a thumbs up before you enter the building.

There are round tables stretched out all over the ballroom you’re led to, decorated with white tablecloths and centerpieces made of flowers in mixed colors that indicate the different teams' tables. There’s a bar off to the left of the room that’s already packed, and an attendant offers you a flute of champagne as he passes by. You down it in record time, trying to settle your nerves as you find the table for press. It’s off to the side by the right wall, next to the white screens set up for interviews that are set to start in a few minutes. You grab your recorder and microphone, making sure everything is working correctly when there’s a tap on your shoulder.

“You all set?” Yamaguchi asks with a happy smile. You’re immediately at ease; Yamaguchi has been nothing but welcoming to you since you started at the company, a rare Beta who didn’t judge you for being an Omega.

“Yes, thank you. Just a bit nervous for my first solo interview.”

“You’re gonna do great,” he compliments as he sets the camera on the table in front of his seat. “You’ve been working on those questions for a week now.”

“I wanted them to be unique,” you pout, pulling out the paper to check over your topics one more time. “Now I’m worried that they’re stupid.”

“No, I—that’s not what I meant, sorry.” Yamaguchi ruffles the back of his brown hair, a twinge of pink on his cheeks underneath his freckles. “I mean your hardwork will pay off, I’m sure!”

“Thank you, Yamaguchi-san,” you smile and pat him on the back. “I have the best partner after all.”

The contact must fluster him because he stutters something about grabbing drinks for the both of you before darting off toward the bar. You shake your head, glancing around the room to see who has already arrived. You recognize some of them from interviews you helped with over the season, and luckily that sets your heart at ease. Nothing to be worried about, you tell yourself just as Yamaguchi comes back with two drinks, telling you it’s time to get ready after you finish them.

The first few interviews go well, even with butterflies flying around in your stomach. Most of the players like Ojiro Aran and Komori Motoya are easy to interview thanks to their easygoing smiles and banter; others like Suna Rintarou and Ushijima Wakatoshi are a bit harder thanks to their straight-forward natures and cut and dry responses. Eventually the only team left is the winner of the V. League that year: the MSBY Black Jackals.

You’ve only interviewed their captain Meian Shuugo before, and he greets you with a warm smile like you’re old friends. His teammates shuffle in behind him—Hinata Shouyou first, then Bokuto Koutarou, Miya Atsumu, and—

“Is Sakusa-san coming?” You ask as you look around for him.

“Oh, he’s in the bathroom as usual, washin’ his hands probably,” Miya Atsumu jokes as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Though if he knew what a pretty little thing our interviewer is, he mighta made it on time.”

You laugh politely at his flirtation though his words do nothing to you. You’re used to Alphas like him, dripping scent all over the place, cocky smiles trying to entice a Beta or an Omega for the night. Meian shakes his head, elbowing Atsumu in the side and telling him to knock it off so the interview can begin.

This team is the easiest you’ve had yet. Hinata and Bokuto answer any question you have with excited smiles and cheers; Meian is as professional as ever, and Atsumu actually takes the interview seriously, especially when the topic comes to the mistake that almost cost them the finals. You’re too focused on Atsumu’s answer to see the fifth member slide into view, but you certainly hear him once Atsumu is finished talking.

“Apologies for being late.”

As soon as your eyes flit over to the man, your entire body throbs.

Sakusa Kiyoomi.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen him in person. He stands tall next to Hinata, black mask covering up the bottom half of his face. There’s not a curl out of place, his hair parted to show the two beauty marks above his eyebrow. His piercing stare regards you almost coldly, and your breath catches in your throat, all words dying on your tongue. There’s a tingle in your spine, a warmth that crawls up your back and spreads to the ends of your fingertips, making you clutch the paper tighter in your hands.

“That’s alright,” you return, but it’s airy, wispy, your breath stuck in your lungs and refusing to come out correctly.

There’s a spike of heat directly in your throbbing cunt and you immediately know.

This can’t be happening.

Galas and award ceremonies are always the worst. There’s no need for this many people to loiter around, just to congratulate them on another finished season with fake niceties and the usual “I’ll get you next year!" that's not really meant. If he wasn’t contractually obligated to go, Sakusa would be comfortably at home, already watching highlights to prepare for next year.

Instead he’s stuck in his stuffy suit, answering question after question of the same shit: What will you do during the off season? Do you think you’ll win next year? Any special someone you’ll celebrate with? After the second-to-last interviewer’s sweaty and clammy handshake made him nearly vomit, he’d excused himself to the bathroom to wash his hands (then wash them again), not caring if he was late for the last interview.

When he finally walks back into the ballroom, he sees that the rest of the team is already in the midst of the interview so he slides into line as quietly as he can, muttering an apology for the lateness.

As soon as you lock eyes with him, he can smell you. Arousal drips off you in waves, assaulting his nose and making him clench his jaw. His stomach churns with heat, flaring out to every part of his body and making his fingers flex. There’s a shiver down his spine the longer he stares at you; your arousal is like a blanket that wraps around him and nearly suffocates him.

Omega. Shouldn’t you know better than to come to a room full of Alphas without taking your medicine, when you’re this close to a heat? It makes his eyes narrow, checking on the rest of his team from the corner of his eye. Bokuto and Hinata are as clueless as ever, staring at you with dopey smiles, none-the-wiser. Meian and Miya are a different story; their eyes glint as you shift on your feet, and Sakusa can see the flex of your thighs from under the fabric of your dress.

“Continue,” he orders as he stares down at you. The faster this interview is over for the both of you, the better.

“R-right,” you stutter, lifting your paper again. He can see the way your fingers tremble as you read off the next question, your voice shaking as you shift on your feet again.

He can practically hear Miya salivating from two spots down and it makes his fists clench, the growing scent of your arousal nearly drowning him. Why haven’t you left yet? Why haven’t you finished the interview early and gone back where you’d be safe from the men staring at you strangely? You’re starting a heat; that much is obvious. Are you an idiot or do you just not realize? Judging from the sweat beading on your forehead and the way your breath comes out in ragged pants, you have to know. So why are you still here?

“Omi-san.” Hinata’s voice sounds like it’s far away, his ears thundering with his heartbeat and the itch at the base of his skull.

“What?”

“She asked you a question.”

When he locks eyes with you, you give the smallest gasp, shifting on your feet enough that the photographer next to you glances at you strangely.

“Repeat it,” he orders. His voice is gruff, angry, deep enough that he hears Bokuto mutter a, what’s gotten into Omi-omi?

“I, um. I asked if you have any advice for new players on what they should focus on from a young age?”

He wants to answer but his throat is dry, his own breath coming out in short puffs that make the inside of his mask warm and dewy. The longer he stares at you, the more the churning in his stomach gets worse, and the more he has to force his arms to keep still so he doesn’t grab you in front of all of these people. A glance to his right shows him Miya and Meian aren’t nearly this affected; they’re keeping calm so why can’t he?

“No.”

“Sakusa, don’t be so rude,” Meian smiles calmly and answers in his stead. Something about how practicing every day will help, but he doesn’t care. Sakusa can tell you’re barely paying attention to Meian anyway, your eyes glazed over as you clutch the paper so hard in your hand that it crinkles and nearly rips.

“Omi-san, is everything okay? Your fists are white.”

Hinata’s voice makes him jolt and he looks down at his hands by his sides. He’s been clenching them so hard that his knuckles are discolored, and the inside of his palms have half-moon shaped crescents from his short nails.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, but he isn’t sure it’s the truth.

Because as soon as your photographer puts his hands on your shoulder and whispers something in your ear, Sakusa takes a step forward to rip the man’s hand away from you. He has to pull himself back before he can, legs trembling with the effort to curb his need to bring you to him and make sure no one else touches you.

Fuck, this is more than a heat, isn’t it?

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a smart man. He knows more about Betas and Omegas than his counterparts, having actually paid attention during his school years compared to others like Miya. He knows what this means; what this entails.

That’s why, even though he’s in the middle of an interview, even though each step spikes pain in his stomach, he turns and walks away.

The water feels cool against your skin as you splash your face, taking a deep breath as you will yourself to calm down. The emergency suppressant works as quickly as the doctor said it would, but your body is still flushed with a heat that you weren’t expecting. It’s nowhere near time for a heat, not after taking your suppressant daily, so you don’t know why this is happening to you now. It felt like you were drowning, consumed by a fire that raged throughout your entire body and left only one thought: want him, want him, want him.

You’ve been through heat before, huddled up in your little apartment for a few days, making friends with your fingers or your vibrator until it passed and you were able to work again. This felt nothing like that; it was hard to breathe, hard to keep standing, hard to listen to Meian answer your questions before Sakusa stalked off and your trembling lessened.

At least the emergency suppressant helped.

You feel like yourself again as you fix your face in the mirror, able to breathe for the first time that hour. You make sure there’s no traces of sweat left anywhere on you before you take a deep breath and make it back to the ballroom. The award ceremony is halfway over by the time you slip back into your seat, and you listen to the host drone on and on about winners in between highlight reels showing this year's triumphs and failures.

When everything is finished, the true party begins with a bang—literally. Confetti shoots out from the ceiling once the Black Jackals take the stage, and you pointedly avoid looking at Sakusa Kiyoomi just in case. There’s a lingering itching in the back of your brain, a small little voice that tells you your reaction earlier wasn’t just a coincidence, but you force it down with the champagne you take a sip of.

“Good work today,” Yamaguchi says once people stand and begin to mingle, and you join them with a smile.

“You too.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got nervous.” The lie is easy, made easier because you avoid his eyes to glance around the room. “Are you going to stay?”

“For a little bit. There’s, um, someone I want to talk to.”

You follow his gaze to a bright spot of orange near the stage, and you have to suppress your smile when you realize that the ‘someone’ is the Black Jackals’ MVP of the year.

“Sure. I’ll see you later then. Good luck.”

Yamaguchi speeds off with cheeks redder than the sun and you laugh, hiding your lips behind your hand as you watch him nearly trip over himself to greet Hinata. Your attention is drawn away by a tap on your shoulder, and Meian stands to your left with a drink in each of his hands.

“You certainly look better,” he compliments as he hands you a flute of champagne, and you keep the smile on your face even though you want to sigh.

“Feeling better,” you answer then glance around him. “Where’s your fiance?”

“She’s talking with one of her friends. I thought I’d check up on you before dragging her home.”

It’s no secret that Meian is one of the lucky Alphas, able to find his mate out of all the people in the world. It’s something you daydreamed about as a younger child, though you squashed it down once you became of age, focusing on making it big as an Omega in an Alpha-dominated world. Still… that little voice in the back of your head is back as you stare at the attractive man before you. Talking with him both tonight and during prior interviews had been fine; he hadn’t triggered anything, hadn’t so much as made your heart flutter because you knew he was taken. Then why…?

“I’m alright, don’t worry,” you try to placate the captain, looking toward the stage where the rest of the team used to be. Hinata and Yamaguchi talk excitedly near the stairs; Bokuto is speaking with a pretty black-haired man in glasses; Atsumu is standing next to Sakusa near the bar and—

There’s a flash of heat in your body when you realize Sakusa is staring right at you, eyes narrowed so dangerously that his gaze feels like knives. Atsumu is saying something to his right, the blonde’s eyes flicking over to Meian and back without even regarding you. But Sakusa hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, his arms crossed over his chest, suit jacket pressed up against his arms and showing his muscles. His scent, wafting from all the way over at the bar, ripples off of him like—

Another flash of heat; another breath pulled from your chest. It nearly makes you drop your champagne glass and you have to cling to the empty table next to you to steady yourself on your feet. This one is stronger, hotter, flooding your body with a heat that makes you whimper. Meian is saying something to your left but you can’t hear him, blood rushing to your ears as your core throbs, hot and needy. You can feel how wet you are, slick pooling in your cunt as Sakusa’s strong scent of dewy rain hits you like a freight train. There’s a warm hand on your back, Meian in your peripheral vision, and you set the champagne flute down on the table to keep it from falling out of your trembling hands.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter as you try to catch your breath. “I just need to get to the bathroom, I—”

“Captain.”

“Sakusa.”

Sakusa’s deep voice makes you shiver, and you don’t dare look up at him out of fear you won’t be able to hold yourself back. Meian’s hand is immediately off of your back, replaced with a rough hand around your upper arm. “I’ll take care of her.”

“No, I—”

You need to go. You need to get away from these Alphas, get back in the car, and get home to make it pass on your own, just like every other time.

Sakusa’s voice is nearly a growl as he regards you. “Be quiet and follow me.”

You don’t have any other choice. You’re dragged out of the ballroom, nearly tripping over your feet as he leads you toward the elevators. Your body is so hot, nearly scorching where his hands hold onto your arm, and your voice is a whine when you ask him to slow down.

“Please, I just need—I need to—”

Sakusa doesn’t listen to you at all. He punches the button and the elevator doors swing open, and your back is against the elevator wall before you can even ask where he’s taking you.

“S-Sakusa-san—”

“I said be quiet,” he warns you before ripping his mask off and pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re so responsive, kissing him back immediately, your fingers digging into his suit jacket. It’s like your mouth was made to be on his, your body pressed up against his as he worms his tongue into your mouth. He doesn’t even care that your fingers find his curls, tugging on his hair as your tongue moves against his desperately, your hips already grinding against his for some relief.

Everything is so hot, and he nearly rips off the button of his suit jacket with how hard he fumbles with it. It falls to the floor by his feet, and he forgets all about it once your fingers grope along his dress shirt, trying to pop open the buttons before the elevator reaches his floor. You whimper when his hard length presses against your thigh, shifting your legs open so he can press in between them and grind his cock on your covered pussy.

“You should have taken your medicine,” he berates you when he pulls back the slightest bit to take a breath.

“I did, I did, it’s just—you—”

Sakusa swallows the rest of your words with another kiss, tongue still flicking over everything it can reach. He can’t breathe, your arousal choking him so badly that his entire body pulses, flooding with the need to fill you up over and over. He needs to be inside you now, making you cry out, feeling the slick run down your thighs as he squeezes and gropes at them.

The elevator stops and dings when it reaches his floor, and he wastes no time wrapping your legs around his waist, hoisting you up. You break the kiss only to gasp, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you let him lead you. His suit jacket stays in the elevator as the doors close, forgotten as he gropes your ass and thighs, doing his best not to make you bump into anything as he hurries to his hotel room.

He makes it to his door and presses you against it, lips incessantly on yours once more as he jerks your dress up. There’s a ripping sound that you both ignore, too focused on moving your tongues together, the sloppy sounds louder than the thundering of his heart in his ears. Sakusa tugs a little harder on your dress, pushing the fabric up to your waist so he can feel along your thighs with his lithe fingers.

“Need you,” you pant against his cheek when you pull away to breathe, groaning when his fingers brush against your covered cunt. You’re wet, slick already staining your panties and making him curse into your neck. His lips and teeth find everywhere they can, sucking and nipping every inch of your flesh to mark you as his. Your whimpers are like music to his ears, his cock pulsing in his pants when he pulls aside your panties and feels your slick covering your folds.

“Left pocket.”

His gruff command makes you nod, and your fingers grope along his thighs and ass to find his pocket as he trails his lips down your shoulder. You start to slip down and he hoists you back up, pressing you even harder against the door, your breasts pressed against his chest. You shift against his fingers, moaning as he continues to run them up and down your wet folds as you work. His mouth finds yours again, distracting you for a second with his teeth nipping at your lower lip, but he growls hurry up against your skin and you move again.

The moment you pull the card from his pocket, he takes it from you, fumbling to let you down and get the door open. The lock clicks open and he pushes you inside, trapping you against the wall before the door even closes behind him.

“Sakusa-san—”

“Dress off.”

You take a split second to breathe, but then your dress is on the floor by your feet and he’s kneeling on top of it, hands tight around your thighs. He takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent of your arousal until goosebumps form on his arms. His thumbs dip into the slick that’s already gathered around the edge of your panties, and with barely a flick of his wrist, they’re pooled at your ankles by the backs of your heels.

Sakusa wastes no time diving into your wet cunt. If the stifling scent of your arousal wasn’t already killing him, the sweet taste of your slick would be doing the trick. You keen when his tongue pushes deep inside, flicking all over your walls as his fingers grope at your shaking thighs. With unsteady hands, he helps you out of one of your heels so he can throw your leg over his shoulder and press even deeper. His hands grope your ass as he laps you up, your moans going straight to his already hard cock.

Your hips jerk violently when he finds your clit and he has to hold you steady with sharp nails into your flesh. Once he starts to suck your nub, you grind your hips into his face, slick dripping down your folds and rubbing against his chin. You sound so good chanting his name, back arching off of the wall as you shudder. It makes him work faster, tongue circling your clit as one of his fingers probes your entrance.

You take him easily, long fingers sucked in by your tight heat. His thrusts are quick and dirty, a second finger pushed in after only a few strokes. He scissors them as he fucks you, stretching you wide so you’re more than ready to take his cock in a few minutes. Your walls clamp down on him, pulsing faster the more he works your clit, and slick drips down his hand as you gush for him. His name is the only thing on your lips between heavy breaths, and there’s a loud bang when you throw your head back against the wall, fingers digging into his hair again.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you chant, thigh trembling on his shoulder. And then, the most beautiful sound falls from your lips: “Fuck, Omi!”

Your walls clamp down on him so tightly that he can barely move his fingers to help you cum, hips grinding against his mouth as he sucks on your swollen clit. You taste so good, so sweet, and he rips his fingers from you so you can gush into his mouth instead, so he can lap up your slick feverishly. His wet hand clings to your ass, pulling you impossibly close as you continue to orgasm, your entire body shaking as you whimper his name again and again. You tug at his hair, whining that it’s too much, but he shakes you off with a warning growl deep into your cunt. He isn’t finished—not until he’s lapped up every single drop you have to give him.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls back, licking his lips to revel in your remaining taste. You tug him close as soon he stands, fingernails digging into his covered shoulders as you press your lips to his. One orgasm and you’re still just as fucking needy, sweaty body trembling as he holds you close.

“Omi,” you whine as your fingers work to unbutton his dress shirt. Of all the people to call him that, you’re the only one he’ll allow without complaint, the only one that makes him shiver as you whimper it. As soon as the last button is undone, he throws his shirt off, pulling away from you just enough to take his undershirt off too. You unclasp your bra and throw it aside, standing before him naked and trembling, lips parted as you gasp for breath.

A swift push and you’re on your back on the bed, and he’s right there on top of you, lips covering yours. You part your legs for him to slip inside, moaning when his teeth tug at your bottom lip, your fingernails raking down his back. It makes him shiver, mouth even more insistent against yours as rocks his bulge against your slick pussy.

“I need you,” you breathlessly beg him, digging your nails into his sides to pull him flush against you, bare chest to bare chest.

It takes every bit of willpower not to tear off his suit pants right then and there. His mind goes red as he hurries with his belt and button, and he hears something rip as he tears off his pants to settle between your legs. His cock throbs, angry and needy as strong hands keep your legs parted. Your thighs squeeze his sides as he sits on his haunches, running his cock over your wet folds to gather your slick on his flesh.

“Omi, please.”

“Go on, tell me what you need,” he growls. Growls. He’s never done that before, never needed to fill someone up so badly, to push into their messy cunt and make them cry out his name.

“Fuck me.” Your eyes are shining with resolve, practically begging him to enter you and make you his. “Fill me up, I want you so badly. Please, please, I need it—”

A sound that sounds like a sob tears out of your mouth the second he pushes into your cunt, and his mind goes blank the moment he fills you up to the hilt, all except for one thought: mine. One hand grabs onto your hips, the other onto your breast, forcing you to match his quick thrusts once he starts moving. Your fingers rake down his arms as he squeezes and kneads your breast, tugging at your nipple as he moves. His body trembles as he slams into you over and over, hips snapping and making you cry out as you cling to him. Deeper, deeper; he needs to get deeper, needs to fuck you until you’re dripping with his seed, until you’re swollen with his pups, until his sharp teeth are buried in your neck and claiming you as his.

Your loud moan echoes in his mind, ringing his head and taking over all of his senses. He leans forward to nip around your shoulder, and you hook your ankles around his back, pushing him even faster with firm heels into his back. Your fingers dig into his hair, pulling him back up for a messy kiss, saliva dripping down your lips as you move your tongues quickly. Sakusa groans when you squeeze around him, and you tug on his curls as you move your hips to match his quick thrusts, teeth scraping along his bottom lip.

“Shit,” he groans before he flips you, hands on your hips to steady you on top of him.

He shifts his legs, digging his heels into the bed so he can fuck up into you. You cry out, steady your hands on his chest as you bounce on his cock, barely needing him to help you with how fast you’re going. Your eyes shine as you watch him with lidded eyes, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. You look so fucking pretty sitting on his cock, tits bouncing as you move, nails making red lines down his chest as you whimper his name. He can feel your slick dripping down, coating your thighs as the smack smack smack of your hips rings in the room.

When his thumb finds your clit, you moan, head falling back and pussy squeezing him like a vice.

“Good, so good,” you gasp, body shuddering as your second orgasm approaches. Your words are mixed in with whimpers and whines when he hits deep within you and then, crystal clear: “Omi, my Alpha, I—”

Fuck fuck fuck.

The growl that’s ripped from his throat can’t even be masked by your loud cry as your orgasm crests. He watches you shake and shudder for him, hips stuttering as your slick runs all down his pulsing length. Sakusa helps you through it, moving your hips so he can continue to slam into you to prolong your pleasure. When you finally stop moving, angry pants for air the only sounds you make, he pushes you down again, settling you on your hands and knees.

“Alpha—”

You gasp again when he enters you, and he doesn’t give you any time to breathe before he’s fucking you hard, hand on your back pushing your chest into the bed. Drool drips out of your open mouth like the slick that dribbles out of your cunt, the loud squelching sounds echoing the squeaking of the bed.

“Fuck, take it,” he commands lowly, hands groping at your jiggling tits so he can thrusts into you even harder. He can feel his knot growing, the tingling in his spine, the pressing need to give you every single bit of him until he’s empty. He’s got to have you in every way, got to make you his, his, his—

As soon as he releases and his knot is pushed inside of you he leans forward, his teeth digging down into the side of your neck hard enough to make you scream. He tastes the iron in your blood, smells your sweet scent before heat rushes through his veins, pleasure making his mind go blank. He doesn’t let go of your neck, sweaty chest pressed to your equally sweaty back, teeth still buried deep within your skin as he keeps his hips flush against yours. It’s like a slow trickle of consciousness, a small creek that gives way to a river that explodes into an ocean of realization.

He just claimed you.

“Omi,” you whisper when he finally lets go.

Sitting dark red above your scent glands are a perfect imprint of his teeth, ones that will scar over and bond you as his for the rest of your life.

He stares down at you, watching the same realization settle into your eyes as you turn your head to look at him.

“Did you…?”

“Yes.”

“You’re… you’re my mate?”

It isn’t so much a question as it’s a confirmation. By the way you’re staring at him, he knows you figured it out, just like he did when your heat triggered in front of him, when he couldn’t stand to see Meian or any other alpha like Miya touch you.

“Yes.” He runs his thumb over the mark on your neck as he curls an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. He settles you both on your sides, a nervous hand tapping against your stomach. Now that his mind is clear, a heavy weight settles on his chest and makes him curse. “I should have used protection.”

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him with a light smile as you shift back further into his embrace, tucking your head under his chin. With your hand, you run it up and down his sweaty arms, the gentleness in your touch making him shiver. “Don’t worry, my Alpha.”

His chest rumbles with his purr, acting on instinct as he leans down to nuzzle his nose into the mark he made, tongue lapping at the indents. You’re so warm, pressed up against him like you’ve always belonged there, like you’re perfectly at home in between his arms. Showering is the last thing on his mind when you hold his arms closer, melting against his chest so you can feel the vibrating in his chest for yourself.

“Mine,” he whispers into the top of your head, and for the first time in his life, his heart skips a beat when he hears you giggle and whispers, “Yours.”

#sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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