Archive of Our Own

Forgetting to lock the bathroom door might have been the worst decision of Kiyoomi’s tragic young existence. It’s been two hours and he’s still panicking, deep breaths in and out in his dorm room as he paces relentlessly, so much that the wooden floorboards may well be indented with his heavy footfalls. After the incident he feigned illness before his next class and sent himself to the nurses office where he promptly had a panic attack in front of her (embarrassing) – which has led him to where he is now, considering which method of suicide might be the most effective and might upset his grandmother the least. She would hopefully understand, given the dire circumstances her unfortunate grandson landed himself in of course.

The circumstances being that Miya Atsumu saw him. Of all the alphas Kiyoomi could possibly run into, it was him. Kiyoomi’s awful, horrible, nasty, cocky nemesis. The very alpha who has been plotting on his downfall since they were awkward first years (well, not Miya, but Kiyoomi certainly was, with his chemically straightened hair and even worse social skills). Everytime Kiyoomi does something, whether it be winning a mathematics award or representing their school in the regional under 18’s gymnastics, Miya just had to one up him. Miya is the volleyball ace and team captain, and he won nationals, whereas Kiyoomi won a measly silver medal last year. Miya is the epitome of asshole, machismo alpha and it’s one of the few traits Kiyoomi doesn’t secretly envy him for.

After today’s fiasco, the only logical option is to fling himself from the window of his dorm room, but it won’t open wide enough for all six three of him to climb out of, so he can only hope that Miya is a decent enough person (highly debatable) not to tell anyone his secret.

Stuffed under Kiyoomi’s bed, right at the very back inside a shoe box, is his older sister’s dress, and the various items of makeup Kiyoomi has sneakily managed to purchase over the last year using the credit card his father gave him.

And Miya saw him. Practising. Practising looking like an omega while looking like a fool.

Kiyoomi swore up and down he locked the bathroom door, but the idiot Miya barged in without knocking and came face to face with Kiyoomi and his dark, dirty secret. The secret that he is barely an alpha. That he presented wrong during puberty. That since he was a child he prayed he would blossom into an omega, so he could nest and live the way he wanted without judgement, to one day nurse and do all the things omega’s get to experience. Nobody knows that when he was in middle school, he would watch omega GRWM and nest tours on youtube, and sit and try to follow along and copy them. He would steal the family maid’s perfume, spraying his clothes and assorted blankets and pillows, and more recently, he began stealing his sister’s clothes and shoes. His height and stature don’t offend him, he’s tall, strong and athletic, it makes logical sense for him to be built the way he is, but it’s the cock between his legs, the ruts he so carefully suppresses with medication, and the lack of a set of warm and wet parts that bother him the most.

The day he presented was the worst day of his life and nobody knows it. Motoya blossomed into an omega three months prior and was heat-sick for two weeks before arriving at middle school smelling of sugared candy and fresh peaches and little quiet and secretly sensitive Kiyoomi with his straight face and impassive attitude, was so excited to wake up the same – until the complete opposite happened. The folds beneath where his little cock sits didn’t open and flower as omegas do, instead, his painful rut hit him like a train and he had to do everything in his power not to fuck the gap between two of his pillows in his room for three days, all while he wailed about the lack of a heat.

It made it worse with how excited his parents were, a long line of mostly alphas welcoming yet another. 

Now he’s graduating from their all-alpha boarding school in two months – while being perhaps the least normal student in the entire school. He spent much of his time post-middle school alone, having never been able to connect with any of his alpha peers, and knowing virtually no omegas to befriend and nest with. It makes sense, what omegas would want to invite an alpha into their private quarters with them, an alpha who is claiming to be just like them? Kiyoomi has spent the last three years with them, and he knows how disgusting and piggish all male alphas really are (with Miya not being an exception, most likelt). Yet, his attraction to them never waned.

His older siblings are almost in their thirties and are all alpha’s themselves, and his family – unlike others, never formed a pack dynamic. It’s what he’s used to and as he headed into his late teens, accepted his reality. He can play dress up in secret until he graduates and moves away from his conservative circle, it was going to be okay…

Until Miya charged headfirst into his life and stuck.

Upon entering the bathroom, the words died in Miya’ throat as he stopped and stared at the long black flowy dress draped across Kiyoomi’s body, and the lipstick and messily applied eye makeup, and the  curly hair that was styled with clips. He’d stared. And stared. And stared. Fuck. Fuck Kiyoomi’s tragic doomed life.

They had never gotten on well, Atsumu was popular – the star captain of their school’s volleyball team. He would sneak to the omega school next door to flirt and whore himself around, dating a revolving door of female and male omegas since their first year of highschool. Mostly, Kiyoomi had observed, he treated them badly. Saying whatever sweet words the omegas liked to hear before dumping them when their feelings got too real. He is a pig through and through, like all other alphas, and he is certainly in his room, excitedly plotting how he will ruin poor Kiyoomi’s life before graduation.

At first Miya had a bad temper and seemed to not even care if his own team mates liked him. He was loud, rude and made it his life’s mission to rile up Kiyoomi whenever they had class together. In middle school, he barely had any friends aside from Ojiro and his own brother, but as he grew into himself he attracted a gaggle of alphas and quickly became one of the more popular kids in school.

What frustrated Kiyoomi was how smart he was, and how he would barely even study yet ace every single one of his exams. Everything he did was effortless. Whereas Kiyoomi had to study and to work hard for where he is today. Kiyoomi is class president, and one of the highest achieving kids in school, but even when he beats Miya in a test score or sports tournament, Miya is right behind him, criticising his performance or telling him how he could have done better. Always paying too much attention, like he’s searching for a flaw in Kiyoomi just to rub in his face after.

…He’s a horrible, loud, asshole of an alpha and Kiyoomi has had a crush on him since their first year, when he was somehow meaner yet able to attract everyone within his vicinity. 

When he walked in on him, he’d stared. Stared. And stared. Kiyoomi stared back, bright red and terrified, the realisation that his secret is out plummeting to the bottom of his stomach like a heavy bag of rocks. He’s already not very popular or well-liked with exactly two friends in the entire world to back him up – and Miya is certainly going to blab to the entire school about how Kiyoomi is weird. Different. A fraudster lying to everyone that he knows. Miya had looked Kiyoomi up and down, jaw hanging open, his alpha-stink so strong it almost drowned out Kiyoomi’s own rotten scent. Only when Kiyoomi covered himself with a towel and snarled get the fuck out did Miya blink back to reality and awkwardly stumble out of the bathroom, almost tripping on his feet on the way out of the stall.

That was a few hours ago. Now Kiyoomi is alone in his room, desperately pacing, his scent so rancid it was leaking down into the halls and rousing the other alpha boys. He was never bullied, not by anyone but Miya, and with his strong scent, the other alpha boys know to keep their distance.

After that, days pass without incident. Nobody talks about him online, nobody approaches him and nothing out of the ordinary happens. On the weekend he goes for lunch with Motoya and a slender, tall omega who his cousin tries and fails to flirt with incessantly – so much so that his cousin – who is well versed in all things Kiyoomi-speak, misses the way Kiyoomi is broodier and quieter than usual. It’s torture, not knowing if Miya finally decided to grow a conscience and keep Kiyoomi’s secret or if he’s just biding his time, waiting for graduation or another equally as pivotal moment to spill the true to everyone.

The following Monday, Kiyoomi avoids Miya and Miya avoids Kiyoomi. 

Kiyoomi knows Miya is keeping his distance because Miya will pester him between classes and at lunch, almost to Kiyoomi’s breaking point. He’ll nudge into him in the hallways, make some snide comment and laugh when Kiyoomi retorts with something equally as scathing. He’ll then tap Kiyoomi’s head and mess with his curls, tug on them and try to knock Kiyoomi’s books from his hands. He doesn’t realise it – but every time, like clockwork, he’ll manage to scent Kiyoomi – scent him so much that Kiyoomi drowns in him and has to run to the showers to touch himself with his nose buried in his arm so he can huff up Miya’s earthy, woodsy oud while it lasts. Afterwards, he hates himself for it.

Fuck Miya Atsumu. Kiyoomi’s crush is the second worst thing to ever happen to him.

It’s a week after The Incident and he’s finishing up in the showers – having sneaked into a cubicle first so he could enjoy the hot water and clean tiles before the air is clogged with a dozen repulsive alpha scents all at once. Kiyoomi washes meticulously, scrubbing his hair and skin clean and completing his seven-step skincare routine. Once he’s dry and wrapped in a towel, he unlocks the cubicle door, intent on brushing his teeth and making a quick escape before anyone else comes in. He unlocks the door and then—

“Get out of my fucking way,” deadpans Kiyoomi, trying to sound angry and not at all as scared as he feels. 

Standing directly in front of him, outside of his shower cubicle for god-knows how long – is Miya. Miya with his scent flooding Kiyoomi’s senses and making him both want to present (how mortifying) and claw out his stupid sexy golden eyes at the same time.

“What’s got ya so worked up?” Miya asks him with a sly smile, leaning against the door to block Kiyoomi’s way. “You were takin’ so long I thought ya were rubbin’ one out in there.”

That’s another thing Miya does. The constant sexual harassment and crude comments, clearly mocking Kiyoomi and his lack of experience. 

Kiyoomi wrinkles his nose. “Don’t be disgusting. Unlike some I take pride in my self-grooming.”

“That’s what we’re callin’ it nowadays.” Miya makes no effort to move, even as Kiyoomi tries to squeeze past him. 

The realisation that he’s vulnerable and only in a small towel frightens him a little, and all Kiyoomi wants – is desperate for, is to crawl into the nest he made for himself and hide away, surrounded by the scented items he stole and hoarded inside his pillow case.

“Will you just…” Kiyoomi tries to slip past him, but is stopped by Miya and gently pushed back a step. “Miya. Don’t touch me.”

“I was just wonderin’ about somethin’,” the alpha starts, still making no effort to move. 

His gaze tracks down Kiyoomi’s body – to the little droplets of water landing in his belly button. For the last year, Kiyoomi has been taking pills usually prescribed to omegas with low oestrogen levels. They aren’t strong, but his hips have softened and his chest has a little more meat to it. He’s still well over six feet and slender but somewhat muscular with the body of an athlete thanks to his rigorous exercise, but the pills gave him a slight curve. 

“Spit it out,” Kiyoomi tells him, unimpressed as he holds his hands in front of his body to shield himself and Miya’s wandering eyes.

“Do ya– uh–” for the first time in three years, Miya looks almost bashful. “Do ya always dress up like that?”

“Like what?’ Asks Kiyoomi, his voice wavering. Finally, the confrontation he’d been hoping to avoid – happening all while he’s at his most vulnerable. He really should have tried to throw himself out of his dorm window when he had the chance. 

“Like an omega,” Atsumu finishes, his eyes fixed on Kiyoomi’s chest. “Like a girl. Or whatever it is.”

“I don’t know what you mean, now–” he tries again to slip past Miya and almost makes it, until the alpha snatches up his arm to pull him back. “Miya, get the fuck out, I’m serious.”

“Are ya an omega?”

Yes…No! That’s the problem!

“Leave me alone.”

“Show me again and I won’t tell anyone.”

“What?”

Miya shrugs, then, invading Kiyoomi’s personal space, gently touches the towel where it sits low on his hips, fingers brushing the rough material. Kiyoomi’s heart is beating so fast he feels he may pass out, his hands trembling so hard he can barely make a fist.

“I want to see it again.” He toys with the towel, fingertips grazing Kiyoomi’s lower stomach. “And with the makeup and shit.”

“So you can mock me,” Kiyoomi scoffs, fear slowly replacing with anger. “Just stop and leave me alone.”

Atsumu is in his uniform, though it’s crumpled, his top buttons unfastened and his tie hanging loose. His shirt is untucked and as he lazily leans against the shower door, starts to slowly unbutton the front of his pants.

“I ain’t leavin’, I came here to take a shower,” he responds, smirking.

“Good. You stink,” Kiyoomi responds petulantly. “Do it away from me.”

Kiyoomi expects him to make another snide comment before leaving to visit another stall, but he opens the front of his pants and to Kiyoomi’s horror – squeezes his bulge. As vulgar the display is, Kiyoomi can’t tear his eyes away, even as he scowls as hard as he can manage.

“Ya got me hard, y’know that?” Atsumu tells him darkly. “I’ve never thought about an alpha like that before.”

“You can keep those thoughts to yourself,” Kiyoomi scoffs, trying to sound annoyed. He’s heating up, his skin shivering and his sweet scent spiking in interest. “And you can stop teasing me, it’s never been funny, Miya. You’re too old to be so childish.”

“Who said anythin’ about teasin’?” Atsumu asks with a curious cock of his head, golden eyes flashing. “I’m super serious, Omi-kun.”

Kiyoomi feels like screaming. Instead, he barges right past Atsumu to escape before his subtle arousal is noticeable. “Get out of my way.”

Fast as lightning, Miya grabs Kiyoomi’s wrist and presses Kiyoomi’s palm against his hardened length. The moment Kiyoomi comes into contact with it, he freezes, entire body tensing, hyperaware of their predicament and that anyone could walk in. 

“M-miya.” Struggling, he tries to yank his arm free but Miya is stronger than he is. Beneath Kiyoomi’s palm, his cock twitches, straining against his boxers, a wet patch forming at the tip. Kiyoomi’s entire body is on fire, his arousal thickening. Miya notices, his nostrils flaring slightly. 

“I’m serious, I ain’t sure if yer playin’ hard to get, but I didn’t stop thinkin’ about ya in that damn dress,” he whispers, lips so close to Kiyoomi’s ear that he grazes his earlobe, causing Kiyoomi to flinch back. “All I can think about is how I wanna treat ya like an omega. Just feel how bad I want ya, darlin’”

Without thinking, Kiyoomi slaps him hard across the face, pulling his arm free. His towel almost slips off his body and he has to catch it. Immediately, Kiyoomi takes a step away from him into the bathroom and bares his fangs, bracing for a fight – he did strike an alpha stronger than he is, even if Miya is a few centimetres shorter. 

…The blond laughs, rubbing his jaw and the red imprint Kiyoomi’s palm left behind. Kiyoomi pauses, heat creeping up the back of his neck and blossoming at the tips of his ears. 

“Just…don’t…Tell anyone. I would do anyth– almost anything.”

“Dress up fer me,” Miya tells him with no hesitation. “‘Samu’s sneakin’ out to meet up with some omega tonight.” He shrugs. “I can get out easy. I’ll come to yer’s and ya can show me.”

“I can’t, even if I wanted to,” Kiyoomi responds anxiously. “I…I was going to throw that stuff away. It isn’t— It wasn’t serious, so you can drop it. Now.”

Something shifts briefly in Miya’s expression – his eyebrows shooting up his forehead, though when Kiyoomi blinks he’s back to his insufferable, cocky self.

“Nah, why’d ya wanna go do somethin’ like that?” Kiyoomi doesn’t know how to respond, gaping like a fish. Atsumu swings his towel over his shoulder, his pants still open and bulge staring Kiyoomi in the face. “Tomorrow after lights out. Let me in. I wanna see ya dressed up lookin’ all pretty and dollike fer me. I’ll keep yer secret if ya do.”

“Fine,” Kiyoomi coldly responds, unsure why he’s even agreeing to it. It’s like a trap – a way to humiliate him further. He should tell Miya to get fucked but he doesn’t. “If that is what it takes for you to shut up. But I want you to know that if you’re planning something I will have you expelled. My father–”

“Ya, yadda yadda,” Miya poorly mimics, waving his hand to interrupt Kiyoomi. “Would yer daddy still kill me if he knew ya were dressin’ up like an omega in private?”

In lieu of responding, Kiyoomi shoulder barges Miya out of the way as hard as he can, knocking the athlete back a few steps. He laughs, dragging a hand through his messy blond hair.

“I have self respect, Miya. You will keep your end of the bargain. And I’m not one of your omega flings, so don’t treat me like one,” spits Kiyoomi as he marches towards the locker room – not expecting anyone else to enter at this hour, he’d left the remainder of his clothes at his locker. 

“Ya could be, if ya wanted to be.”

Kiyoomi promptly launches his face towel in Miya’s direction. “Don’t push your luck.”

They exchange a tense set of back and forths as Kiyoomi locks himself in an empty cubicle to dress, Miya outside the door, voice low so nobody can hear, while he whispers all the things he’d like to do to a cute, submissive alpha who just needs an experienced top to treat them how they deserve. On his way back to the dorms, Kiyoomi ends the conversation by telling him to go out and find one then. Stupid Miya and his stupid teasing.

Kiyoomi is so hard it hurts.

In his room, he bundles himself up in his warm nest of home comforts and some omega blankets he’d stolen from his friends. He tries not to think about Miya but he can’t help but ruminate and consider that maybe there’s a kernel of truth to his words. Maybe he would give Kiyoomi a taste of what it’s like to be an omega…Even for one night, it would be okay to indulge – wouldn’t it? Nothing could go horrifically wrong as long as Miya is true to his word.

The words ya could be, if ya wanted to be rattle around in his head until he at last falls asleep surrounded by his favourite scents and pillows. 

Maybe, for one night only, Kiyoomi could indulge. Even if he becomes a checkmark on Miya’s long list of conquests. 

At class the next day, he upholds his cold exterior, ignoring Miya’s lecherous, lingering stares in the hallways while Kiyoomi weighs his options. He catastrophises, then gets so worked up his head hurts and he has to excuse himself during one of his study sessions, and later starts to panic again at the thought of everyone finding out.

By the end of the day, he decides to pull himself together. If people find out, then he owns it, there is just ten weeks until graduation after all. And, he’ll get one night with the infamous Atsumu – something that his inner a̶l̶p̶h̶a̶  omega preens at the idea of.

It’s late when Kiyoomi anxiously sits on his dorm bed, dressed in his cute, strappy outfit. It’s white and lacy, befitting of a prized omega. His legs are waxed, with matching white stockings sitting snug on his thigh. Kitten heels click anxiously on the floor as he waits, adjusting his outfit more times than is necessary. His curls sit daintily on his head and a part of him is even more anxious for dolling himself up so much for Miya, but the thought of being seen unkempt is a far worse fate. He’s terrible at eyeshadow and his eyeliner is always wonky, so he just applied mascara and managed to smudge black liner across his waterline before dotting some sparkly shadow in the corners of his eyes. It’s probably terrible, but it’ll do.

Kiyoomi sits and waits for several more minutes, checking and rechecking his phone over and over, fidgeting and checking himself out in the mirror even more times until finally there’s a discreet knock at the door. The sound makes him jump, even though Kiyoomi had been expecting it. Not wanting to risk anyone seeing Miya of all people outside his room (think of the humiliation…the rumours…he would have to move to a public school!) he jumps to his feet and when he’s moments from opening the door, there’s another knock, this time louder and longer – more befitting of Miya’s attitude, of course.

Kiyoomi swings the door wide open with a deepening scowl.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Miya looks surprised for a moment, before slouching and making his way inside before being invited, bringing all of his usual confident swagger as he enters the small genkan. 

“Makin’ sure we’re good on yer promise.’ He stops once the door is closed, standing far too close to Kiyoomi for comfort as he drinks in Kiyoomi’s dolled-up appearance. “Whew. Ya did all of this for me?”

“No,” Kiyoomi lies blatantly. “It’s just…a natural look. Give me some space.”

Miya’s eyes are narrow and lidded as he allows his scent to bleed into the room – not bothering to hide how aroused he is already. Embarrassed, Kiyoomi creates a distance between them and trots over to the bed, pretending to busy himself by tidying. He adjusts the pillows and the fitted sheet, not quite realising he’s just fussing with his nest due to Miya’s presence in his private space. He doesn’t realise Miya has followed him until the alpha is right up behind Kiyoomi, so close that they’re practically touching.

“Yer always so jumpy. Relax darlin’.”

“You’re always so insufferable.”

Miya’s hands toy with the lacy fabric of his dress and Kiyoomi freezes, heart rate skyrocketing. “Ya look amazin’, baby. All dressed up, exactly how I was imaginin’ last night.”

Against his will, Kiyoomi flushes down his neck to his chest. In lieu of responding, he smacks Miya’s hands away and when he tries to flee to the other side of the room, Miya’s hand clamps down on his wrist, halting him.

“Yer so anxious, sit down with me on the bed.”

Hesitating, Kiyoomi stands rigid in the centre of the room, feeling a little stupid. He’s half expecting a scathing remark or some kind of teasing from the athlete, but Miya seems sincere, waiting for Kiyoomi to join him by the bed. Swallowing, Kiyoomi walks over to the bed and perches on the edge, resisting the urge to fluff the pillows again. 

“You aren’t going to tell anyone about this, are you?” He asks incredulously, fingers pulling at the bottom of his dress, where it sits on his long, pale thighs.

“Not if ya show me what ya got underneath,” jokes Miya with a wink, joining Kiyoomi on the bed, his eyes raking shamelessly over his form. 

Kiyoomi usually covers himself in public, the uniform buttoned up to his neck. Sitting beside alpha in such a short, skimpy, strappy outfit is humiliating, especially with the way Miya stares. His lidded eyes are fixed on Kiyoomi’s collarbones, down to his chest and legs, and the white stockings on his feet. The scrutiny causes Kiyoomi to fold one leg over the other.

“I still hate you,” he reminds Miya, “this changes nothing.”

“Sure,” Miya purrs, leaning into Kiyoomi’s space. “Ya can tell me that again when yer screamin’ my name.”

Before Kiyoomi can chastise him – or react at all really, Miya is gently pushing him down in the nest. Against his better judgement, Kiyoomi allows himself to be guided onto the pillows until he’s lying awkwardly, back rigid, on the bed.

“Better,” Miya comments, “have ya had yer first kiss before?”

Kiyoomi scowls, feeling much like he’s being forced into a humiliation ritual. “Yes. I’m not a prude.” Miya looks at him dubiously. “I kissed an omega once but it wasn’t…” he trails off, uncertain. “I’ve kissed before.”

“Mhmmm,” mumbles Miya, settling over Kiyoomi on the bed. “Bet it wasn’t anythin’ like this.”

Then, his lips are attached to Kiyoomi’s neck, biting, sucking and licking across his milky skin while Kiyoomi lies flat on the bed, teeth clenched to stop the utterly embarrassing noises from escaping his throat. He loses control of his scent, letting it bleed into the air, sweet and sugary. Between kisses, Miya flares his nostrils and parts his lips above Kiyoomi’s skin to taste the air.

It doesn't take Kiyoomi long to turn to mush, his brain short-circuiting as his neck and clavicle are assaulted with an alpha’s lips. Miya’s hands eventually work up to his waist, gripping it tightly over Kiyoomi’s dress.

“Ya look incredible spread out like this,” Atsumu practically purrs against his skin as he noses at the hem of Kiyoomi’s dress until it’s nudged below his small, pebbled nipples, exposing his milky chest. “All mine tonight, omega.”

He maintains eye contact as he dips down to draw a nipple into his mouth and Kiyoomi keens. Atsumu’s tongue works with precision, flicking across the pert little bud, the alpha grumbles happily when Kiyoomi arches into him and struggles to hold back his quiet, breathy moans.

Kiyoomi has never been touched like this before.

Hands wandering up and down his body, exploring, squeezing, teasing, overwhelming him and opening his eyes to a whole new world of pleasure. His cock is rock hard, tenting in the front of the dress, though Atsumu ignores it, sucking on his nipple as though he were trying to draw milk from it. 

“M-miya,” Kiyoomi groans, legs kicking out on the bed, his breaths quickening. “I-I can’t, it’s so– you’re so much. You’re horrible.”

“It’s good, huh?” Miya whispers, smirking, his hands tickling the tops of Kiyoomi’s thighs and playing with the hem of his pretty white stockings. “I know no alpha has treated ya like this. Only me.”

Gasping out a moan, Kiyoomi’s hands find the back of Atsumu’s head, his hands fisting in dirty blond hair. Miya’s lips are attached to the other nipple, as his fingers pinch and pull the other until it’s swollen and red. He bites down hard, and Kiyoomi loses his mind, his alpha purring and rumbling as thick pheromones release into the room.

“Fuck, Miya,” Kiyoomi hisses, struggling to breathe as his chest is assaulted. Miya bites a possessive bruise into his skin and Kiyoomi cries out, stuttering and stammering as he curses Miya out through chattering teeth. “You’re the worst. Awful.”

“Mhmm,” purrs Miya, biting down hard enough to break the skin. He leaves a circular mark of fangs around one of Kiyoomi’s nipples and he apologetically licks it, before slowly easing downwards. “Keep talkin’ to me like that.”

Lapping his tongue down, Miya gently feeds Kiyoomi’s arms out of the straps of his dress so he can pull it down to his hips, and then he’s kissing and licking down Kiyoomi’s quivering body to his stomach. Miya takes his time, more than any alpha ordinarily would, and it leaves Kiyoomi whining and wishing even more that he were an omega, that he could slicken and suck Miya right up inside of him, locking them together. Miya seems to take the hint, as his kisses turn possessive and desperate.

“Almost don’t wanna take this off ya,” he teases, before grabbing the dress and sharply tugging it down his body, feeding it down Kiyoomi’s legs until it hangs off his petite feet. 

Kiyoomi’s cock pokes out from his panties, leaking and twitching in the cool air. It’s small for an alpha, but almost as wet as any omega.

 “Look at ya,” coos Miya, “how wet are ya already?” Kiyoomi’s cock bobs against his stomach, smearing precome across his skin which Atsumu rubs in idly with his finger as he stares long and hard as Kiyoomi, panting and sweaty, splayed out across the bedsheets for him to devour. “Look how bad ya want yer alpha.”

Kiyoomi whimpers, cursing and scrunching up his face when Atsumu’s hot breath spreads out across his cock. It jerks in Miya's palm when he grasps it firmly, and Kiyoomi sucks in a breath when Miya rubs his thumb across the head.

“Anyone touched yer cock like this before?”

Kiyoomi shakes his head, overwhelming tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he’s jerked off. When he glances down, Miya is visibly hard and tenting in his sweats. Kiyoomi notices then, through the thickening haze of his own pleasure, that Miya is barely keeping a hold of himself, from the way he pants, his nostrils flared, his scent strong with arousal. It’s taking everything for him not to throw himself at Kiyoomi and carelessly toss him around, pinning him down and claiming him right here on Kiyoomi’s dorm bed…

Kiyoomi is abruptly pulled from his erotic daydream by a mouth swallowing down his cock.

“Fuck!” he yells against his will, squirming on the bed as Miya chokes him down in one smooth action, swallowing Kiyoomi down his throat with his eyes pinned onto him, one hand spanking down on Kiyoomi’s trembling thigh to keep him steady. Bobbing his head, Miya gives Kiyoomi his first blowjob, tongue working expertly up and down his dripping length until Kiyoomi feels close. He tenses, bracing himself – it didn’t take him long to build to an orgasm, and then Miya is popping off him with a smirk. Kiyoomi groans in frustration.

“Easy, darlin’, I can’t have ya finishin’ just yet.”

Kiyoomi could kill him.

Until Miya’s mouth dips even further south, Kiyoomi’s bendy legs folded and forced up to his shoulders.

“Miya! That’s…dirty,” he weakly protests, though makes no move to kick Miya away as his tongue prods Kiyoomi’s hole. Nobody has ever touched there before, only Kiyoomi’s selection of toys have ever come close… “You really don’t need—”

“This pussy tastes amazin’,” Miya suddenly says, voice muffled from where it’s wedged between Kiyoomi’s cheeks, with only his eyes and messy blond hair visible. “I could eat ya all day, yer so slick.”

Flushing, Kiyoomi tilts his head away, his scent blossoming despite himself. Miya is only buttering him up, saying what he thinks Kiyoomi wants to hear. Despite everything, the affirmation makes Kiyoomi glow, as though he can pretend to be an omega, even if only for a few minutes while they’re together. 

“I’m not…You know that I can’t be,” he stutters, face hot with embarrassment as he pokes his head up from the pillows to stare at Miya intensely.

“Sure ya can,” Miya tells him, lifting up for air. “You can be my omega fer the night, nobody else has gotta know.”

“Ridiculous,” huffs Kiyoomi, unsure how to react. He feels a rush of euphoria, though can’t bear to have Miya see it painted across his expression so promptly closes his legs around Miya’s skull and presses him back down to his ass.

This is where Miya really goes to town on him. 

Choking on a moan, Kiyoomi gasps at the intrusion as a tongue tries to force its way inside him. Miya eases him open with gently rubs on the backs of his thighs, his tongue prodding until Kiyoomi relaxes and he’s able to press inside him. Miya’s lips suck hard around his rim, and Kiyoomi feels himself propel into orbit.

In a million years, he’d have never expected this from Miya, assuming the alpha would take and take, roughly rutting into Kiyoomi and fucking him within an inch of his life, finishing inside of him within minutes.

Though, even as Kiyoomi is slowly taken apart by Miya’s tongue, finds the thought of being used like the alpha’s own personal fleshlight to be exciting.

“Fuuuck, Omi,” Miya curses, dropping a final kiss to Kiyoomi’s puckered hole before drawing up onto his knees. Miya’s sweats sit low on his hips, tenting very visibly, and he peels out of his sweaty shirt, throwing it across the room. The room spins, suddenly very hot, and Kiyoomi nearly chokes when he inhales and tastes Miya’s sweat in the air. “That’s the hottest, fuck, I could go all day,” he starts to ramble, his cheeks puffy and red from exertion, jaw no doubt aching. “But I need my dick in ya, so bad ya don’t even understand.”

As though to prove his point, Miya squeezes his crotch while gazing down at Kiyoomi. Pushing his hand inside his sweats, he takes his throbbing cock out, the tip angry red and leaking, and slowly jerks himself while staring down at Kiyoomi’s body. 

“Can’t decide if I wanna come in ya, or on ya, baby.”

Kiyoomi whimpers. He daren’t say it, but both. Both is good. One after the other. He hates mess, but not when it’s caused by Miya. He doesn’t speak but his expression must betray him as Miya laughs, positioning himself lower to prod his cock on Kiyoomi’s calf.

Suddenly and without warning, he grabs Kiyoomi’s ankle with his other hand, lifting his foot in the air. “Can I play with ya like this a little?”

Unsure what he means, Kiyoomi stares at him like a caged animal, slightly intimidated by his own inexperience, his eyes opening up to a whole new world of kink. He nods hesitantly, and then Miya is rubbing his foot across the head of his cock, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he groans. Kiyoomi sits frozen in shock as his toes are pressed against Miya’s tip, precome smearing across them. Miya seems to be enjoying it, and the position causes Kiyoomi to flush and try to hide his face.

“I’d love to use ya like this,” he rasps, “...maybe next time.”

Leg dropped back to the bed, Kiyoomi lies there at a loss for words, as Miya dips back down to nip and suck at the slight fat on his inner thighs, Though to Kiyoomi’s surprise, the alpha ignores his hole entirely, licking down his legs where he slowly rolls Kiyoomi’s stockings to his ankles. It’s unexpected and Kiyoomi is about to loudly protest when Miya snakes his hand inside a stocking, pulling it down over his heel and tossing it across the room. The silence is palpable. All until Miya abruptly sits upright, propping Kiyoomi’s foot on his shoulder. 

“Bring me the lube, baby, ‘m goin’ to open ya up on me. Ya ever been touched here?”

Prodding Kiyoomi’s slightly wet hole, Kiyoomi swallows, nodding while glaring hard at the ceiling. Miya doesn’t need to know about his toy collection, or that he comes on a knotting dildo most weekends when he gets the dorm to himself. He is only pulled from his thoughts when Miya’s cock slaps wetly against his hole and Kiyoomi jumps, quickly scrambling up to grab the lube from the bedside table next to them. Once he’s passed it to Miya, his hands shaking a little, he settles back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut.

He hears the telltale sound of Miya uncapping the lube and squeezing it across his fingers, before the cool,viscous liquid is squeezed over his hole and Kiyoomi jumps.

“Shh, can’t believe how wet my omega is down here.” A finger prods inside him, easing inside Kiyoomi to the knuckle. “Fuck, Kiyoomi, yer loose. This cunt sucks me right in.” 

As though to prove his point, Miya pushes his finger the rest of the way in, adding a second and curling them until Kiyoomi slips out a broken moan. If he died right here, Kiyoomi thinks, he wouldn’t mind one bit. He’s roughly spanked, his quivering thighs bitten, tight hole spread open on Miya’s thick fingers. Submitting easily to an alpha like Miya feels so good, and Kiyoomi knows it’s his pheromones talking but for the first time he feels like listening. 

Again and again his hole is abused, stretching to accommodate a third finger. Miya curls and scissors them and when he brushes Kiyoomi’s sensitive prostate Kiyoomi almost comes on the spot, his vision blackening and his entire body tensing as sparks pulse from his clammy skin.

Fuck, fuck you Miya, he hears himself utter, a strangled sound escaping his pursed lips. Only when he’s pushed to the edge a second time, orgasm ready to pop, does Miya abruptly remove his fingers. Kiyoomi immediately pushes himself upright to protest, a scowl forming in the middle of his forehead. He’s about to protest, when something far larger prods at his entrance.

Miya’s cock aligns with him, slick with lube, before the tip is carefully eased inside. Miya watches with a slightly pinched expression as he slides himself in, his eyes rolling back once the tip is inside. Kiyoomi forces himself to breathe, body tensing and relaxing twice before he manages to control his breathing and allow Miya entry the rest of the way.

As soon as Miya bottoms out, they both sigh in contented relief, like something once missing finally clicking into place. Kiyoomi’s legs quiver, both of Miya’s hands gripping the backs of his thighs to press him in half.

“That’s it,” Miya purrs, kissing along the length of Kiyoomi’s slender calf. “Show me how flexible ya are.”

Kiyoomi is folded in half, and slowly Miya begins to thrust in and out of his ass, cock dragging wetly until Kiyoomi is panting hard. Taking hiccuping breaths, he tries to grab for Miya, nails raking down his front as a low pleasured growl erupts from his throat.

Brow pinched, Miya leaves harsh bites down Kiyoomi’s exposed neck, not quite breaking the skin as though he’s trying to hold back.

“Miya…” Kiyoomi complains, frustration mounting when he realises that Miya is being deliberately gentle with his thrusts. “I won’t break.”

“Ya sure?” Miya pauses, brow cocked questioningly. “‘Cause ya feel like a tight little virgin.”

Snapping upright, Kiyoomi pulls Miya back towards him. They kiss messily, Kiyoomi’s lipstick smearing all over his and Miya’s face. His hair is pulled, mascara smudging on his undereyes when Miya bites down on his lip and causes him to bleed.

“I ain’t sure ya know what yer askin’ fer.”

“I can get off without you here if you prefer,” Kiyoomi grumbles petulantly, nipping at Atsumu’s lower lip. 

“Hell no,” Miya says with a rumbling growl. 

They gaze at one another for a long moment, a challenge written in Miya’s smug expression. When Kiyoomi doesn’t argue or tell him an explicit no, he seizes Kiyoomi by the throat briefly.

“On all fours, omega.”

The alpha command has Kiyoomi stumbling to submit, even as his entire consciousness tells him to fight back, that he can’t roll over and be a loyal lapdog for someone as insufferable as Miya Atsumu. But Miya’s pheromones cloud his judgement and Kiyoomi is powerless to resist. Miya lifts off him and Kiyoomi stands on his knees, turning to face away from Miya, ass up, while Miya watches and slowly jerks himself to the sight of prissy nerd Kiyoomi doing everything he says.

“Good boy, wasn’t that so easy?”

“Fuck off,” Kiyoomi swears, shuddering when he feels Miya’s cock slap against his hole. “I should have known you’d be even more annoying in bed.”

A harsh spank lands onto one of his ass cheeks. “Can’t wait to fuck the sass outta ya, baby. Yer goin’ to be so cute.”

Before Kiyoomi can argue back, he’s spread wide open again and Miya is pushing back inside, one palm clamped on his lower back. From there, Miya sets a brutal pace, fucking him so hard that Kiyoomi can barely breathe, his face shoved hard into the pillow as his ass is used over and over. His dormant alpha biology screams at him to fight the command, to shove Miya back and throw him across the room, but he’s powerless. Powerless and beginning to understand how easy it is to submit, and how right it feels. How omega it all feels.

“Yer cunt is so fuckin’ pretty,” he hears Miya praise at one point, fingers spreading around Kiyoomi’s stretched rim. A finger pushes in alongside his cock, and Miya seems to marvel at the way Kiyoomi swallows him up so easily. “I reckon if I fucked ya hard enough I could pup ya like this.”

That makes Kiyoomi whimper.

An embarrassing sound, but one that Miya seems to like, as his thrusts pick up in speed, his hand wrapping around Kiyoomi’s little weeping cock, toying with the head before jerking him off with only a few of his fingers that fit around it. 

“Perfect.”

Keening, Kiyoomi gazes up at him with watery eyes, mascara running. The talk of breeding and pups embarrasses him and he tries to hide his face in the pillow, blinking back the tears. He feels so full and perfect and he’ll never admit how good and how well cared for Miya is making him feel. 

“Uh-uh,” he hears Miya chastise, his lips only a breath away from Kiyoomi’s face. “Don’t hide from me.” Grabbing Kiyoomi’s hair, Miya twists his face up and towards him and he kisses Kiyoomi on the face, lips tracing up to kiss and lick at his tears. “Taste s’good.”

Falling into a trance, Kiyoomi lets himself be fucked, his back forcibly arched. He’s spanked, the back of his neck bitten, all as Miya slams into him unapologetically. They go at it relentlessly, at one point Kiyoomi registers being carried across the room, his legs wrapped around Miya’s back as they kiss, the alpha’s cock still buried snug in his hole. He’s fucked against the wall, on all fours on the bed, laying on his side and at one point Miya gets him to bounce on top though Kiyoomi lasts about a minute before he whines in protest and Miya flips him back over with a laugh.

Miya’s cock popping out and bouncing in the air as they change positions. On his back, Kiyoomi’s legs are lifted to Miya’s shoulders and as the alpha slides back into his ass, Kiyoomi feels a warm, wet tongue lick up the length of his slender foot. When he bottoms out, Miya laps a tongue across each of Kiyoomi’s ticklish toes, his hands running up and down Kiyoomi’s hairless legs as he’s fucked into. 

“Fuck, I love when yer so submissive,” Miya growls as he licks down to Kiyoomi’s ankle, tongue pressing flat against the bone. “I want ya like this every night, just waitin’ fer me to come fuck ya stupid.”

“I’m going to…” Kiyoomi trails off, mouth falling open in an o. “Fucking kill you later. Ngh, Miya.”

“Sure ya will.” Miya grabs his cheeks in one hand, squeezing them. He kisses Kiyoomi, grinning when Kiyoomi bites his lip with his alpha fangs. A small trickle of blood beads on his lower lip, dripping onto his chin. Miya kisses him once more and lets Kiyoomi suck it up. “Will ya let me come inside ya?”

“No,” Kiyoomi utters automatically, body immediately tensing. He knows the rumours, knows what can happen when two alphas copulate like this.

There’s no risk of pregnancy, but there is a real risk of other things happening…

(would it be so bad?)

Cocking his head, Miya’s thrusts slow, his strong hand petting through Kiyoomi’s hair and down his face. “Are ya sure? Thought ya wanted to be my omega? Wanted this pretty little pussy to be filled?”

Whimpering, it doesn’t take Kiyoomi long to change his mind – he’s beginning to feel a little close himself, his own weeping cock twitching and spurting pre with each harsh thrust. He’s so wet between the legs that he really may as well be a well-behaved little omega for Miya Atsumu.

If only his past self, the one who is class president and who hates Atsumu with every horny bone in his body, could see him now. 

Gathering up some of the wetness spreading onto Kiyoomi’s tummy, Miya uses it to lube up Kiyoomi’s cock and begins jerking him off. Kiyoomi is too fucked out to notice, but he really is wetter than any alpha should be. As though his body is already making way for something. 

It really doesn’t take him long to come, ropes of cum shooting out into Miya’s hand and up his flat stomach. The sight seems to do something feral to Miya and before Kiyoomi can recover, he’s bent in half so roughly it hurts, and Miya is gripping his hips hard enough to bruise before pounding into him with an intensity that makes Kiyoomi black out for a few seconds.

Legs shaking, he is trapped by Miya’s body, unable to do anything other than lie there and let himself be used like a toy, all while Miya grunts and growls in his ear and leaves bruises down his neck and to his flat chest. When he feels Miya tense, his legs shaking, Kiyoomi clamps down hard on him, not letting him move.

“Omi–” Miya groans in his ear. “I gotta pull out baby. Yer not lettin’ me move.”

“No.” Kiyoomi hears himself beg, hardly believing the words as they tumble from his mouth unbidden. “No, no no, no. Just do it inside. Once is okay. Atsumu.”

All it takes is for him to briefly clench down, his teeth grazing the spot on Miya’s neck by his gland, and Miya stops resisting, fucking his cock in deep and shooting his cum deep inside Kiyoomi.

Before the throes of Miya’s orgasm have even finished, Kiyoomi feels an intense shooting pain throughout his entire body, starting in his lower abdomen and spreading from his head to his toes. He goes numb and tingly after, barely able to think or move from the foreign sensations wracking his body.

His body is on fire when Miya’s softening cock finally slips out with a small sound. He rolls onto his front, his lower half aching so fiercely he thinks Miya might have ripped him in half. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. “What did you do!”

He’s vaguely aware of Miya hovering behind him on the bed, concerned as he rests a hand on Kiyoomi’s back and tries to ask him what’s wrong. The pain is intense, but it’s a pleasurable type of pain – something Kiyoomi can’t quite grasp until he dips a hand between his legs to test for damage. His fingers are wet and when he lifts a hand up he expects to find blood, but it’s slick that webs his fingers instead.

“Atsumu,” he says hoarsely, turning to show him his hand. “What did you do to me?”

There’s a sharp contraction in his lower abdomen, right over the area where his womb would sit – if he had one. Except it’s no longer an if. Pain blossoms in Kiyoomi’s lower half and he doubles over on the bed, caught by Atsumu who is immediately scenting him. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I don’t understand what happe–”

Right when Atsumu is beginning to panic, the pain suddenly subsides. With mascara running down his cheeks, Kiyoomi sits upright in bed, blinking the tears from his vision. It takes him several seconds to understand what happened to him and the realisation seems to hit Atsumu at the same time it hits Kiyoomi.

They turn abruptly, making eye contact. Atsumu’s lips part as he tastes the air, pupils dilating at the warm, wet scent of an omega.

…The warm, wet omega that happens to be Kiyoomi.

“Omi, I—”

Kiyoomi feels like he should throw Atsumu out, shove him away, scream, swear and shout for bitching him without permission, in his dorm room like this without warning. But all he feels is a cool relief washing over him. Maybe it’s the new hormones, or the post-sex inner glow, but he isn’t panicking half as much as he ought to be (or will be later).

It’s a blessing. He doesn’t care if he has to move schools, or if his parents stop supporting him. All of a sudden the nesting feels natural, being wrapped up amongst his own sweet scent and Atsumu’s musk is all that matters.

“Will you stop panicking?” He finally retorts, more irritated by Atsumu’s sudden mother-hen attitude, and the way he looks moments from having a meltdown. “What’s done is done. I guess…” He dips a hand between his legs again, skirting past his soft cock to where the dry bumps are slowly opening to moist wet folds.

“Yer awful chill fer someone who just got bitched, Omi-kun.”

“It’s hardly the worst outcome,” Kiyoomi says casually, like his entire world hasn’t just flipped. “People will know what we did, I suppose. My parents might call yours, but we’ll come to that later.”

For now, Kiyoomi is sleepy and too drunk on alpha pheromones to care.

“Yer pa is like, some CEO Omi, he’s scary.”

“Well you should have thought about that,” smirks Kiyoomi, enjoying Atsumu’s spiralling just a little. He’s still shaky, mind not quite comprehending their situation. 

They sit in silence for a long moment, the awkwardness beginning to rise until Atsumu turns to him with a lopsided grin, linking their hands together. “I don’t suppose I could see yer pussy now?”

Kiyoomi slaps him, but he spreads his legs and lets Atsumu do more than take a look for the rest of the night. The consequences and their possible expulsion can be dealt with in the morning. For now Kiyoomi has everything that he needs.