hqinstinct

[hqinstinct]

I haven't forgotten/abandoned this, I'm just on a little hiatus cause my co-mod for one of my zines is MIA and the resulting work load has eaten up a good chunk of my spare time. I'll be back soon 🫶

[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 038

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Kiyoomi sits up and Atsumu, still lying down, rolls onto his stomach, tightening his grip on Kiyoomi’s hips and sending a thrill down his spine. Atsumu, maybe more tuned into his scent than he’d realized, seems to pick up on the shift, inching a little closer, gripping a little tighter. Kiyoomi is tempted. 

“Not happening.” With a hand planted firmly over Atsumu’s face, Kiyoomi shoves him away once and for all, pointedly not allowing his eyes to linger long on the long stretches of tanned skin bared when Atsumu rolls away with a groan. “I’m not getting our scents all mixed up before practice. Get dressed, dumbass.”

With only mild complaints, Atsumu goes. They take their turns in the washroom, and the feeling that settles between them is…strange. Not bad, necessarily, but Kiyoomi can feel Atsumu watching him. Waiting for permission to do, take, be more in a way that has Kiyoomi’s hands going a little cold while he zips up his jacket, tone clipped when he informs Atsumu he’ll meet him downstairs and slips out without a backwards glance.

Rather than meeting the team for breakfast as he’d planned, Kiyoomi finds an unlocked conference room and slips inside to call his cousin.

Motoya doesn’t pick up. Kiyoomi’s phone vibrates in his hand. For a moment, he clenches his jaw so tightly he feels a twinge at his temple, but when he checks, it’s just Hinata wondering where he’s at. He’s not sure whether or not to be disappointed.

On the bus, Kiyoomi very deliberately gets on the bus only after Atsumu has boarded, so he can make sure he ends up sitting on his own. During warm-ups, things get weirder still. Their passes don’t connect as fluidly as normal, though thankfully, they manage to shake off the disconnect by time the whistle blows and the game begins. It’s the first time he’s felt like himself since he’s left bed, and despite himself, he’s not naive enough to miss the fact that something in his chest had come loose when he’d taken off his mask and filled his nose with Atsumu’s scent.

As soon as the ball is in the air, the day falls to the wayside and, for a while, Kiyoomi’s head clears. It feels natural when Atsumu bumps against him after he scores a point, natural to meet his eyes when one of their passes connects for an especially brutal spike, natural to lean in to the electric current that runs between them.

They win. The air crackles. By the time they’re back at the hotel, the mood has been muted somewhat by aching legs and empty stomachs, but there’s still a charge between them that’s difficult to ignore. Atsumu showers, Kiyoomi showers, and tries not to feel too self-conscious when he retreats to the washroom with his wash bag firmly in-hand. When he gets out, Atsumu is sitting at the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone without really looking. Waiting.

He looks up when Kiyoomi starts putting his things away.

“Y’know, Omi-kun, you really ain’t gotta be nervous. I’m not expectin’ much.”

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[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 037

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Kiyoomi wakes up warm. Comfortable. Doused in a lovely smell and weighted down in a way that, for once, doesn’t leave him feeling suffocated. He’s never been much of a heavy sleeper, but this morning he struggles to pull himself out of the pleasant haze that’s settled over him. When the arms around his waist tighten, a low rumble vibrating against his back as a nose buries itself in the soft curve of his neck, recognition crystalizes. Atsumu.

Shifting back to confirm his theory, Kiyoomi feels Atsumu’s bare thigh brush the burns left between his own by Atsumu’s sparse stubble and his heart rate begins to climb as the memories of last night swell up to meet him.

Fuck.

It’s not regret over what happened that’s drawing his throat tight or making his heart surge, it’s the fact that he really, in all sincerity, has no idea what comes next. Kiyoomi has never been fond of flying blind, but he’s in entirely uncharted territory, because as much as he would love to convince himself otherwise, there’s absolutely nothing casual about the distinct lack of discomfort he feels drowning in Atsumu’s touch.

“Shh,” Atsumu’s voice is soft and sleep-riddled, his palms are warm where they flatten against Kiyoomi’s stomach and tug him close. It should be stifling, but the tightness Kiyoomi expects to feel in his chest never comes. “S’okay, Omi.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t hafta,” Atsumu mumbles, pressing a sleepy kiss to his neck. Kiyoomi hopes he can’t feel the blush rising on the back of his neck, he has a feeling Atsumu hasn’t even opened his eyes yet. “Y’smell nervous. Ain’t nothin’ t’be afraid of, baby.”

It’s just ridiculous enough, just alpha enough to break through his nerves. Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, jabbing his elbow back and feeling rather pleased with himself when Atsumu shouts, “Hey! What’d I say!?” and flinches away, hands still lingering on Kiyoomi’s skin, but from something of a distance, now. Twisting around to look at him, Kiyoomi has to suppress a shiver at the feel of his calloused hands scraping over his ribs.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I was just tryin’ ta be nice! Jeeze.”

“Well, stop it. I’ve told you before, it doesn’t suit you.” Atsumu’s startled expression melts into something a little more devious, grin stretching out his mouth, and despite himself, Kiyoomi feels a need to rise to it.

“Yeah, alright. C’mere then, Omi-kun.” As he says it, he starts tugging, and Kiyoomi resists in no small part for the pleasure of feeling Atsumu pull harder, stronger. “I’ll show you how nice I’m not.”

Kiyoomi lets him get just close enough to tease, then covers his face with his hand, pushing back firmly. 

“Morning breath. Disgusting.”

“Omi,” Atsumu whines. “No way, no way, y’made me brush my teeth last night then ya still didn’t kiss me.”

“Then what makes you think I’d do it now?” Shoving Atsumu back despite his protests, Kiyoomi tries to extricate himself from the bed, but Atsumu refuses to be shaken off that easily.

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[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 036

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

When Atsumu steps into the shower behind him — Kiyoomi peeks over his shoulder and finds Atsumu looking almost confident enough to hide his nerves — he figures he probably should’ve expected it. Maybe he did, really, even if he’s not quite ready to admit that to himself. They manage to get clean more or less without incident, wandering hands and Atsumu whining in Kiyoomi’s ear while he’d washed away their smell notwithstanding. 

What he truly doesn’t expect is for Atsumu to hover awkwardly by the side of his bed while he pulls on a clean t-shirt and briefs, and somewhat sheepishly ask Kiyoomi if he can sleep with him. In all honesty, Kiyoomi doesn’t even know what answer to give.

For a moment, they stare at each other in the dim light of the hotel lamp, Kiyoomi dressed for bed, Atsumu still not dressed at all. A curiously tight feeling lodges itself at the base of his throat. He doesn’t know what he wants.

“Alright,” he allows, eventually. A smile tugs at the corners of Atsumu’s mouth, visible even in the near-dark, and Kiyoomi distracts himself, turning around to grab spare clean, spare sleep clothes out of his bed. He knows Atsumu wears the same shirt every night, and there’s no way he’s letting him sleep in his bed with a dirty tee. “Here.” He shoves the clothes into Atsumu’s chest and crawls into bed, trying not to think about what this might mean between them. What it might change. 

Lying on his back, Kiyoomi keeps his eyes trained firmly on the ceiling when the light goes out and the bed next to him dips as Atsumu slips beneath the covers. 

“Should I… You still feelin’ okay bein’ touched, Omi?”

A dangerous warmth blooms behind Kiyoomi’s ribs, and he’s thankful for the darkness that keeps Atsumu from seeing the way his fingers curl tight around the duvet. Truthfully, a part of Kiyoomi is curious, thinks it might be — god forbid — actually kind of nice to find out what that would feel like. Falling asleep in someone’s arms. Atsumu’s arms. However, the bigger part of him feels a little itchy at the thought, grown weary of touch, almost claustrophobic. 

Allowing his head to loll to the side, it takes a second to search out Atsumu’s eyes in the dark. When he finds them, he realizes Atsumu is on his side, facing him. As is the fashion of the night, Kiyoomi doesn’t allow himself to think about what he’s doing too closely when he lets his hand drift to the mattress between them, palm up so Atsumu can carefully reach out and wind their fingers together with a fraught — tender, even, if he didn’t know better — sigh.

Silently, Atsumu traces the lengths of his fingers, the lines of his palms, and for all they’ve already touched tonight, Kiyoomi is caught out by the way such simple contact lights up his nerves, bolts of electricity traveling up through his arm at the sensation.

“Omi, I — ” 

“If you say anything at all right now, I’m making you go back to your own bed.”

<< | About Universe | >>

[ Start From the Beginning ]

[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 035

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Despite the way his limbs have gone loose and heavy, Kiyoomi can’t seem to quell the fire that’s been stoked under his skin, the one that has him sweltering, heat trapped with nowhere to escape, burning him up from the inside out. It gathers and bellows in the crook of his neck, where his hair stands on end each time Atsumu’s lips brush over the point of his pulse. He knows his teammate too well not to sense the tension in him, to feel that he’s careful, even now, not to touch too much.

“Smell so good t’gether,” Atsumu breathes and Kiyoomi shivers. He’s not wrong.

In fact, Kiyoomi’s never smelled anything better. 

The thought is sobering. It’s enough for Kiyoomi to push back, forcing Atsumu just far enough away that he can almost breathe again, the cool air of the room beginning to douse the heat between them. Atsumu only stares, looking…debauched. Desperate. Kiyoomi can hardly look at him without flushing. 

“Can I kiss you, Omi?”

Much to his own surprise, Kiyoomi considers it. He’s only ever kissed two people. Ushijima, back in university, and a boy whose name he can’t quite call to mind, who hadn’t been much more than an experiment in learning his limits. Now, though, he wonders what it might be like to taste himself on Atsumu’s tongue. Stares at swollen lips and wonders how much more difficult it will be to pull away if he lets himself find out.

“Go brush your teeth.” It comes out too soft, too much like the offer he didn’t quite mean for it to be. Atsumu grins and Kiyoomi wonders if his cheeks are sore.

Without even a little shyness, Atsumu bends over to grab his soiled towel before he walks away, though he does, at least, have the decency to look a little chagrined when his foot catches on the wash bag he’d had his face stuffed in when Kiyoomi caught him. Just remembering it is almost enough to chase away the little clarity Kiyoomi has managed to hold on to, and he forces the thought down while he shifts off the dresser to stand on aching legs. He wants — needs — to think things through, but he can’t quite manage to clear his mind enough to do it now that everything — the stickiness between his legs, Atsumu’s cum smearing against his t-shirt and drying on his skin — is setting in.

Impatient, Kiyoomi decides he can hardly make things more awkward between them, and strips off his shirt — careful to avoid his hair — tucks it into the washbag, and follows Atsumu into the washroom.

By now, the air is heavy with steam, but Atsumu has wiped the mirror clear where he’s leaning over the sink, and when he sees Kiyoomi, he grins through a mouthful of white foam and waggles his eyebrows at him. Kiyoomi rolls his eyes instinctually, trying not to smile while he steps into the shower and slides the glass door closed behind him. Despite…everything, it’s reassuring to know that Atsumu is still himself. They’re still…maybe not quite what they were before, but nothing disastrous. Nothing that can’t be recovered.

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[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 034

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

By the time Atsumu stands on legs that feel dangerously watery — post practice and drawn tight with holding himself back this whole time — he finds himself unable to think past the pulsing need in his groin and the blush staining Kiyoomi’s cheeks. His mouth is dry, face wet, Kiyoomi’s hand is pressed flat to his chest and briefly, he has the fleeting thought that he should probably be embarrassed by how hard his heart is beating, but right now, Omi is in front of him, disheveled, slumped against the wall with his legs spread and his pussy wet from Atsumu’s touch and Atsumu’s mouth and he just —

“You can’t fuck me, but I’ll let you finish on me, if you want.” It takes a second for Atsumu to fully register what he’s hearing, senses fogged by Kiyoomi’s scent, thoughts gone slow and thick like honey. “Not on my face. Or in my hair.” 

“Kay,” Atsumu manages. His tongue feels too thick in his mouth, lips swollen. Whatever Kiyoomi wants to give him, he’ll take it. Pushing his towel off with one hand and gripping the back of Kiyoomi’s thigh with the other, Atsumu steps in close, heat melting down his spine when Kiyoomi’s eyes rove his body, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Atsumu’s cock twitches, groin tightening, and all at once, he knows he can’t wait another second. His hands skirt up Kiyoomi’s sweat slick skin, around his back to pull him closer and revel in the way Kiyoomi’s hips roll forward, like he wants this — wants more — just as badly as Atsumu himself. 

Holding onto Kiyoomi’s thigh with one hand, he presses the others to the slick mess between his legs, shivering at the way Kiyoomi jolts, before wrapping it around himself, warm, tight, not quite what he wants more than enough for how close to the edge he already is. 

Glancing up, he finds himself caught by Kiyoomi’s stare, torn in two by the atmosphere, the want between them, so thick it’s making his lungs ache. There’s something about the sounds filling the room, quiet except for the wet sound of skin-on-skin, that leaves him raw, overly exposed to Kiyoomi’s dark eyes. When the other man reaches out, pale fingers splaying warm over Atsumu’s chest, where his heart beats wildly, Atsumu is done for, entire body tensing and drawing inward as his hips twitch and stutter, breath seizing in his lungs as he paints white streaks across Kiyoomi’s stomach and between his legs. 

Exhausted, emboldened, Atsumu collapses forward, testing his luck, and finds his heart nearly bursts in his chest when Kiyoomi allows it, elegant fingers coming up to weave through the slightly-shaggy hair at his nape. Unthinking, unwilling to think, Atsumu buries his nose in the curve of Omi’s neck and fills his lungs the way he’s wanted to for years.

“Omi,” he murmurs, voice heavy and filled with reverence. It would be impossible to miss how thoroughly their scents have mingled, the way there’s something almost sweet — cinnamon, maybe — lingering in the air, pairing them perfectly.

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[ Start From the Beginning ]

[hqinstinct]

On a little mini-hiatus so I can wrap up some zine fics I urgently need to get done 🤡 Shall resume on Monday!

[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 033

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Together, they barrel toward Kiyoomi’s peak, all sweating skin and heavy breaths. Somewhere in the distance, a thought comes to Atsumu, wary but fleeting — this feels right. So much ease to be found in the way their bodies move together, Atsumu feels Kiyoomi’s need like it’s his own, knows just how to give him what he craves without having to be told. He’s not going to be able to let go of this.

Again, the urge rears up. Kiyoomi’s toned thigh brushes his shoulder and he thinks, for a moment — nonsensical, hands shaking, heart beating wildly in his chest — of sinking his teeth into the meat of it until he leaves a mark. It’s not — it wouldn’t be the same, not what he really wants, but the urge to claim, to make it clear to anyone with the nerve to look that Omi is his —

“I’m close,” Omi groans, voice hoarse with pleasure, pulling Atsumu from his thoughts. “Just — just stay like that, keep going just like that, ‘Tsumu.” His legs are trembling where they’re spread wide and bent, one hand still tight in Atsumu’s hair while the other strokes over his face, traces his brow, so tender that Atsumu experiences a beat of certainty he’s about to finish untouched — he doesn’t, but only just.

Fighting the urge to go harder, Atsumu keeps pace, rewarded by the broken noises spilling past Kiyoomi’s lips louder and louder, until he grips tight and grinds forward, hips spasming up against Atsumu’s swollen lips and sore jaw while he clenches tight around his fingers. “Fuck, Atsumu.” In answer, Atsumu moans into his cunt. 

Eventually, Kiyoomi’s body goes loose and limp, legs stretching out and falling over Atsumu’s shoulders while he slumps back against the wall, loosens his grip on Atsumu’s hair to soothe his aching scalp. 

“Lemme give you another,” Atsumu pleads, between slow kisses pressed to slick curls, though his fingers have slowed inside.

Kiyoomi reaches out to tilt Atsumu’s head back, and Atsumu struggles not to feel dizzy at the flush on Kiyoomi’s cheeks, the knowledge he put it there. He disheveled Kiyoomi worse than he’s ever even seen him after a game, and this was all it took. He wants more.

“You’re going to be unbearable after this.”

It’s not a question, but quite notably, it’s not a denial, either.

“Better make it worth it,” Atsumu suggests, shivering at the way Kiyoomi watches his lips, drops his eyes down to follow the trail of Kiyoomi’s own want that runs down his chest.Groaning, Omi drops his head back to thunk against the wall, but his thighs tighten around Atsumu’s ears and something inside of him melts. Kiyoomi’s in this just as bad as he is, he’s certain of it. Not having to be told — or shown — twice, Atsumu does precisely as promised. By the second time Kiyoomi falls apart under his tongue, around his fingers, Atsumu feels half-hysterical with pride, full to bursting. By the third, he just feels desperate, driven by an unquenchable thirst.

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[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 032

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Everything Kiyoomi fills his senses; mint and cardamom flooding his nose, unique scent a current couched in sweat and skin and slick want that feels — tastes — too good to be true, even better than he’d imagined. Painting his lips and gathering in the hollow of his throat to spill down his chest, Atsumu puts everything he has into trying to get closer, however impossibly, desperate to crawl right under Omi’s skin and leave his mark. Above him, Kiyoomi’s voice, sharp and wanting like he’s never heard it and like he already knows he’ll never be able to forget, escapes past his lips in small moans between halted breaths that make Atsumu’s ego swell fiercely. The sound is nearly as good as the way Kiyoomi’s fingers dig into his scalp and grip tightly at his own where they’re intertwined over pale skin and toned muscle. 

Caught up in the heaving breaths shared between them, the way gravity seems to have collapsed inward, driving them together, Atsumu brings the hand not holding Kiyoomi’s own in closer, moving to suck at his swollen clit while he teases at his opening with two fingers and revels in the breathless, “Fuck, c’mon, Atsumu,” it punches out of the man above him. Any other time, Atsumu might tease, might want make a game of it, but right now, there’s nothing in his head, his heart, his blood but a craving for more. For once, it doesn’t even cross his mind to do anything but give Omi exactly what he’s asking for. 

He pushes two fingers in, curls them and moans when Kiyoomi’s hips roll forward, cunt grinding against Atsumu’s mouth, using him for all he’s got to give. 

“Tha’s’it,” he mumbles, words half-moaned, wet and muffled against Kiyoomi’s skin. “Whatever ya want, sweetheart,” he breaks his words with another sucking kiss to Kiyoomi’s clit, curling his fingers again, again, a little slower, faster, til he finds the rhythm that makes the hand in his hair pull just tight enough to send a thrill down his spine, “Anythin’ y’want, baby. Wanna give ya—”

“Stop fucking talking,” Kiyoomi pleads, and Atsumu grins. Knows he’s hit something tender. It spurs a need he’s helpless to resist, some buzzing, bellowing sensation burning him up from the inside out as he lets go of Kiyoomi’s hand at last — only a little bereft at the loss — and wraps an arm around Omi’s hips so he can tug him closer, change the angle and make it a little easier to glance up and see dark eyes staring down at him, leaving his heart pounding and body aching, fit to burst out of his skin. Between his legs, he can feel his own need pulsing, demanding, leaking against the towel still barely concealing him, and a part of him feels half-mad with the desire to stand — or, better yet, drag Omi down with him, take him on the floor rough enough to leave marks they’ll both still feel by morning and claim, but he resists and pours his need into his desperation to drink his fill of Kiyoomi’s own want instead.

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[hqinstinct]

MORE TONIGHT AT LAST

migraine break 🫠

[hqinstinct]

migraine break 🫠

[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 031

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Atsumu trails off and the air in the room grows thick and fragrant, ozone, spice, mint that makes the hairs on the back of one’s neck stand on end. Kiyoomi, already dialed-in to the scent of Atsumu’s arousal — as if the towel tenting between his legs wasn’t enough to make it obvious — is still aware enough to be cognizant of the weight of his own want as it sinks deep into the cradle of his hips to pool between his thighs. He watches Atsumu — flush high on his cheeks — as his eyes go dark, nostrils flaring when Kiyoomi’s scent hits him. 

Still on his knees, Atsumu licks his lips like he needs to wet them, like his mouth has gone dry, and after what feels simultaneously like an eternity and entirely too quick to make sense of, Kiyoomi’s restraint crumbles, sense falling to the wayside. In two long strides, he closes the space between them and tugs his wash bag out of Atsumu’s hands, tossing it carelessly aside. 

“Omi,” Atsumu breathes as Kiyoomi sinks rough fingers into blonde hair and twists them tight. Calloused hands skirt up the backs of Kiyoomi’s legs, too warm, too eager, stopping at the hems of his briefs, teasing just under black fabric. “Need ta—”

“Hurry up.”

Atsumu doesn’t wait to be told twice, dragging Kiyoomi’s briefs halfway down his thighs and dipping forward to taste, one moment of heated breath against bare skin to light his nerves before Atsumu is there, clever mouth pressing desperate, open-mouthed kisses to his cunt, so close that he feels Atsumu’s moan as it travels through him.

“Fuck,” Kiyoomi swears emphatically as Atsumu’s tongue slips between his folds while he presses impossibly closer, trying hard to get lower so he can push it inside, but Kiyoomi’s briefs are caught around his knees and the angle is impossible. Again, Kiyoomi swears under his breath, gripping Atsumu’s shoulder with his free hand while he tries, awkwardly, to kick off his underwear. Mercifully, Atsumu gets the message, leaning back — mouth wet, eyes dark, fuck, fuck fuck — to help him with them. 

As soon as they’re out of the way, Atsumu takes hold of his hips and pushes him back until he knocks against the dresser, leaning so he’s halfway sitting on it, allowing Atsumu to push his legs open properly and sling one knee over his shoulder. Kiyoomi moves to take back his hand, but Atsumu catches him by the wrist and presses a kiss, warm, lips slick from Kiyoomi’s own want, to his palm, staring up at Kiyoomi while he does. Inside his chest, his heart clenches painfully, something sharp and urgent and entirely too pleasing unfurling behind his ribs as he digs a heel into Atsumu’s back and runs his fingers through his hair, too indulgent, before tugging just a little.

“Don’t be gross.”

“Mm,” Atsumu sighs, lacing their fingers together over Kiyoomi’s thigh and pressing a kiss a little closer to where he wants him. “Knew you’d be needy, baby.”

Before Kiyoomi can give voice to his indignation, Atsumu’s mouth is on him again, slick and sweet and far too smart. If Kiyoomi thought they had chemistry on the court, it’s nothing to what they’ve got now. Every awkward, perfunctory hook-up he’s had can’t even collectively hold a candle to the fire set under his skin by Atsumu's touch. Distantly, Kiyoomi wonders how much is technique, anticipation, and how much is simply Atsumu. 

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[hqinstinct]

hi! as someone who occasionally scours the omega omi tag in hopes of finding more fics, once i came across ur fic on ao3, i RAN here to catch up with what you’ve posted so far, and !!! what a cliffhanger today’s post is lol i’m dead and dying in the best way and so excited for the rest of the story! i love everything about it—the characterizations and dynamics and interactions are all 100000/10. i already know this will be one of my favorite sakuatsu abo fics. thank you so much for sharing!

🥹 Nonny you are FAR TOO SWEET omg. It's honestly so fun to know that you enjoyed the story enough to come find the updates here. I usually post later, but just for u, I'll post tonight's early cause this message rly brightened my day 🫶

[hqinstinct]

The Instinct | 030

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

His relief is short-lived. In the same second he takes a bracing breath, filling his lungs with steam, Atsumu’s scent hits him, threads of arousal which are typically so faint standing out strong to his already roused senses. He can still feel the heat of Atsumu’s skin under his palm, and with citrus and soil lingering in the air, he can’t help but imagine what it might taste like.

Get a grip, he chides himself. In the quiet of his mind, Kiyoomi forces himself to count backwards from ten. He hangs his towel on the rack by the shower, sets his toiletry bag on the vanity, and allows himself a moment to breathe while the thick scent of his teammate’s want rolls over him and settles, becoming no less present in his mind, but bearable, at least. 

Eventually, when he feels he can think clearly again, he looks at himself in the mirror — pleased to see his cheeks devoid of any evidence that might give away how flush he feels — and begins to move through his routine. The familiar rhythm of it soothes his nerves — teeth, skin, shower — but he knows, deep down, he can only keep pushing this down so long.

It’s only when he’s stripped down halfway, left in his briefs and roomy t-shirt, that he realizes he’s left his laundry bag on the bed. The thought of either leaving his dirty clothes on the clean counter or leaving them on the floor to get damp makes him squirm, so Kiyoomi slips his feet back into his slides, clothes in hand, and goes to retrieve his washbag.

Sunlight gone from warm to searing, soft soil and a sharp, acidic undertone, just enough to make the mouth water — the scent hits Kiyoomi the second the door swings open and he steps back into the room, thick and sweet and strong enough that it takes a moment for the sight that’s stopped him in his tracks to set in.

Atsumu is down on his knees, on the floor, towel still belted around his hips, with Kiyoomi’s wash bag — currently containing this morning’s practice clothes — clutched tight in his hands and pressed under his nose while he takes heaving breaths. His eyes are screwed shut, the look on his face so intensely mired in want that Kiyoomi isn’t entirely convinced he’d be able to see even if he were looking. A sound escapes him, pulled from somewhere deep in his chest, sonorous enough for Kiyoomi to feel the echo of it in his bones, knuckles going white around the door handle.

Metal creaks under his grip, and only when Atsumu’s eyes fly open in shock, wide, terrified, utterly caught-out, does Kiyoomi notice the pounding of his own heart hammering against his ribs and rushing in his ears.

“I’m — I — I didn't mean ta…” Atsumu stammers, at a loss for once in his life. Kiyoomi might enjoy it more if he were any better off himself. “Omi, I wasn’t — I — I swear, I’m not…”

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The Instinct | 029

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Sooner or later, of course, the heat that’s been simmering between them for the better part of a decade is bound to boil over. They’re in a hotel in Koganei, winding down for the night and due to play the Adlers in the morning, when it happens. Atsumu is in the shower, Kiyoomi has his earbuds in and his things laid out on the bed, laundry bag lying on the bed runner because he’d rather not have his dirty clothes touching the duvet. It’s not always this bad, but tonight, Kiyoomi is tense.

Practice went alright for the team, but his game was off. He couldn’t get the height he wanted on at least two of his jumps, leg cramping for reasons the trainers haven’t yet identified, and he fumbled what should’ve been an easy receive. Thinking of it now, Kiyoomi feels a headache beginning to bloom between his temples, spurred on by the ache of his jaw, ground too tight for too long.

Everyone has off nights.

It’s an empty platitude, one he hardly ever offers to his teammates, let alone himself. There’s no point. 

He should have done better, but he didn’t. Should have —

“Washroom’s all yours, Omi-kun.”

Steam and the soft scent of Atsumu’s body wash permeate the air as the bathroom door opens and Atsumu steps out. Kiyoomi realizes his knuckles have gone white against his towel. “Quit calling me that.” He says it more as a reflex than anything, words devoid of their usual heat, and hears Atsumu pause, then come to stand next to him.

“You good? You’re lookin’ a little — ”

“I’m fine.”

“Right.” Atsumu remains, momentarily, uncharacteristically, mercifully quiet, and then — “Sure ya’ain’t feelin’ a little crabby cause I beat your ass at practice?”

Kiyoomi’s head snaps up, looking at Atsumu, ready to pick a fight, and the most disconcerting thing happens. He takes one look at Atsumu’s cocky grin and his broad hands — fiddling with the edges of the duvet like talking to Kiyoomi fills him with a little too much energy to keep contained — and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s pressing a palm flat against that broad, warm chest, still damp from the shower. Dark hair brushing against his skin feels like electricity lighting up his nerves and for a moment, neither of them speak, both a little too shocked, too taken off guard by the contact. Kiyoomi’s eyes drift down to look, pale on tan, and he pushes, just a little.

Atsumu takes a heavy breath, heartbeat gaining strength under Kiyoomi’s hand, and all at once, he realizes what he’s doing. 

More flustered than he can remember being in years, Kiyoomi shoves Atsumu back, a poor effort to save face.

“In your dreams.”

It’s a weak recovery, Atsumu lets out a breathy laugh and Kiyoomi grabs his towel and his toiletries so he doesn’t have to look at him when he beelines for the washroom. Only when the door is safely locked behind him does he realize he’s been holding his breath.

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The Instinct | 028

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Universe: A/B/O + Canon Divergence Pairing: [Α] Miya Atsumu / Sakusa Kiyoomi [Ω] Rating: Explicit

See tags for warnings.

Kiyoomi does not talk to Atsumu.

Or, rather, they talk. They talk a lot, actually. They talk endless shit about Hinata’s tiktok — of which Atsumu won’t admit he’s jealous, but definitely is — and Bokuto’s latest endorsement photoshoot, they pick apart the particulars of each other’s game, they argue about everything from the weather to soft drinks to exactly what shade of drugstore yellow Atsumu’s hair was in high school. 

“You’re so rude, it was honeysuckle.”

“Piss stained,” Kiyoomi corrects.

So, yeah. They talk. Just never about anything they actually need to talk about. He spends more than enough time thinking about it, though. He’s thinking about it in the locker room after practice, and on the bus in the morning, and when they get to the hotel, where he goes, resignedly, to follow Hinata to their shared room only to be redirected by Coach Foster. 

“Miya didn’t tell you? You’ve got a new road roomie.” For a moment, he stands in the hallway and stares. “He’s already got your keys,” Coach Foster adds, gently prompting Kiyoomi to turn back around. Should have seen that coming, he thinks, narrowing his eyes and carefully ignoring the way his mouth goes dry when he turns around and spots Atsumu down the hall, almost sheepish in the way he waves two keycards in the air.

Naturally, they don’t talk about it, and rooming with Atsumu turns out to be pretty decent.

Atsumu is already familiar enough with Kiyoomi’s idiosyncrasies to be mindful of them, which conveniently means that Kiyoomi never needs to feel particularly bad about tearing him a new one when he crosses a line, because he’s fairly certain Atsumu does it intentionally, just to get a rise out of him. For the most part, though, they share space surprisingly well together. They eat dinner together every night, even when they’re not out with the team, Atsumu makes fun of Kiyoomi’s fastidious grooming habits but always makes sure to do a quick clean of the washroom after he’s showered, so the space is clear for Kiyoomi to decompress, and Kiyoomi informs Atsumu of exactly how disgusting he is for eating in bed and stretching on the floor without a mat, but he also picks up Atsumu’s favourite snacks from the nearest convenience store and doesn’t bother pretending to look away when Atsumu does his yoga.

It doesn’t count if it’s self-serving. This time, it’s Motoya’s voice he hears in his head — any time he counts leering at his teammate instead of chiding him for being so repulsive as a charitable act. 

Which, of course, brings him to the only major flaw in their sharing a room together: the tension.

Each time they brush past each other in the evenings getting ready for bed, Atsumu freshly showered and smelling so cleanly like himself that Kiyoomi is halfway tempted to drag Atsumu into his own bed instead. Every time Kiyoomi uses the shower after Atsumu and finds just the barest wisps of Atsumu’s arousal lingering in the humid air, and pretends that’s not what’s clouding his own mind when he steps under the spray and slips his hand between his legs. Any time Atsumu manages to convince Kiyoomi to ditch his regular stretches to follow along with his routine instead, placing broad, burning hands here and there to correct Kiyoomi’s form while he speaks too close, too warm into his ear.

What’s worse is, Atsumu isn’t secretive about any of it. He flirts openly, touches cautiously but with transparent want, and freely scents the air whenever Kiyoomi comes out of the shower, any residue from his scent blockers washed away, but he never pushes.The ball is entirely in Kiyoomi’s court, and typically, that’s how he likes it. He wants to be the one in control. He wants to be the one deciding. What he doesn’t want is to be the one who ruins things between them.

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We're on another migraine mini-hiatus 🫠 more hopefully tomorrow