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"Atop Kiyoomi's head sit triangular black cat ears, peeking out through his matching curls, with perfect pink interiors. One of them twitches at the sound of a stray ball hitting the bleachers, and Atsumu chokes on his spit."
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Atsumu tries to help his teammate out with his new condition in the most respectful way possible. For the most part the new catlike habits are just adorable, but when Kiyoomi goes into heat against all biological laws of the world, Atsumu has to do at least something to help.
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Help! My (22M) FWB (22M) is being weirdly close and I think he thinks I’m his boyfriend or something. I’m confused.
If you had told Miya Atsumu there would one day be a point in time where he would be airing out all the sordid details of his love life over the internet website that is Reddit dot com like some floundering 14 year old girl, he would’ve laughed at you.
aka reddit/fwb fic
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Atsumu takes a long swig from his glass before setting it in the sink with a light tap.
“Anyone could have walked in here and seen ya like this,” he says slowly, voice edging with something sinister as he takes three long strides to cross the room. “Ya realize that, right? Anyone?”
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“That alright?” Atsumu jeers with a kiss to Kiyoomi’s jaw.
“Not really,” Kiyoomi scolds hopefully halfheartedly, voice completely void of any emotion. “I’m diseased and not up to the task of taking your virginity.”
it's been a long six months of yearning for atsumu, so when the opportunity to finally display his undying affection for kiyoomi presents itself, he can't exactly pass it up. even if he is being used as a makeshift heated blanket.
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Kiyoomi has a third epiphany: Miya is, most likely, his friend. Which means that Motoya isn’t his only friend anymore, which also means Motoya is now his best friend. Kiyoomi hates it here.
Kiyoomi and Osamu are flatmates, the student life is not rose-colored, and Atsumu shows up at the most unexpected times in the most expected places. Kiyoomi is... dealing with it.
Series
- Part 2 of the wikiHOW series
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Kiyoomi didn’t care for messes of the physical, emotional, or mental sort. He despised all things chaotic and kept a strict schedule in place for himself to prevent any discrepancies. His entire life was mapped out in his calendar–class, homework, studying. Volleyball practice and games. A weekly catch-up with his cousin and bi-weekly phone calls with his mother. The occasional team outing, when it had been too long, and he needed to show his face to keep up with appearances. Getting coffee with his classmates once a week and pretending that he had any intentions of carrying on with the friendship after graduation, when they all went their separate ways. All his weekly hours were accounted for, and that was how Kiyoomi liked things. The sport of volleyball was unpredictable. Even when you trained hard and were facing off against a team that was worse than your own, anything could happen. Someone could drop the ball, miss their serve, or get injured. The thrill of that was the only sort of unpredictability that Kiyoomi needed or wanted in his life.
But Miya Atsumu had gone and messed everything up.
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Atsumu can’t tell what mixed him up more: the friends with benefits arrangement or the fake dating arrangement. The combination of both has made a mess of Atsumu’s head, and he wants nothing more than to move on from it.
But ‘moving on from it’ seems impossible given the whole fake engagement thing.
Inspired by the prompt: "We're fake dating and I'm supposed to publicly break up with you but you pissed me off so I publicly proposed instead and now we're getting married, fuck."
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It’s stupid, waiting a year and a half for three meager days.
Three days is all Kiyoomi gets, because he’s in love with a sailor who only makes port every few months. A sailor who has other lovers in other ports across the galaxy.
But Kiyoomi can be happy being a warm bed, if it means he gets those three days every few months with Miya Atsumu.
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Kiyoomi and Atsumu are friends-with-benefits in a heated argument about the status of their relationship. When they get kidnapped for ransom money, they are forced to confront both their sexual tension and their intense feelings. All while handcuffed together.
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“My goddamn sets are perfect,” Atsumu says firmly. “You’ll see when I go pro and you don’t.”
“I’m going pro,” Sakusa shoots back, voice shaky now. “And when I do I’m making sure to join a team that’s a million miles away from you. I never want to see your face again.”
“Is that a promise, Omi-kun?”
“It’s a guarantee, Miya.”
Or
The promise they don't keep.
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“I don’t accept favours from strangers,” Kiyoomi responds stubbornly. “I will make my own way just fine.”
“Oh! My ma used to smack me behind the head fer how rude I can be. Name’s Atsumu…Miya, but ya can call me Atsumu. Now we ain’t strangers,” the man rattles on, ignoring Kiyoomi’s obstinate insistence. “Ya know, all sorts of weirdos parade these roads. I’d hate fer somethin’ to happen to ya alone out here after dark.”
☀️
Kiyoomi is lost in the countryside after fleeing his suffocating life in Tokyo and when he’s about to give up an attractive stranger offers to give him a ride. Miya Atsumu may not be all that he says he is…
(Or, a lesson in not getting into a strangers car in the middle of nowhere)
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“Do you have any other questions about gay sex and or my private life, or are you satiated?” Kiyoomi quips unfairly accurately.
“Pain in my ass,” Atsumu mutters, receiving a low hum in response. “But no, ‘m all set, thanks.”
“Ok,” Kiyoomi stands from the couch, looking down at Atsumu like one might look at a bug, and says, “shall we get started then?”
And Atsumu feels the exact moment his soul leaves his body.
“Huh?!”
miya atsumu and sakusa kiyoomi are two individuals plucked from trees not dissimilar, much to their objections. they’re standoffish and forthright, they live and breathe volleyball and won’t sell themselves short in its regard — another thing they have in common? their completely pathetic and unrequited crushes on their respective close friends.
they both need to move on, and what’s the best way to get over someone? by getting under someone else, even if they are your teammate, and next door neighbour.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 127,343
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 196
- Kudos:
- 523
- Bookmarks:
- 184
- Hits:
- 17,887
Bookmarked by pixiepjm
20 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Collections:
Bookmarker's Notes
first sakuatsu of 2026 and an ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE
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“You’re a professional athlete, you shouldn’t be out of breath,” Kiyoomi scolds matter of factly. Sometimes just being in Miya’s vicinity saddles him with excessive amounts of second hand embarrassment.
“Oh yeah? Well you’re a hygiene fanatic, you shouldn’t have nails long enough to—”
Kiyoomi’s hand over Miya’s mouth stops him short of a full frontal confession, germs be fucking damned. They are not getting outed in the hallway of the gymnasium.
admitting he's in love with miya atsumu feels like a fate worse than death, kiyoomi thinks. it would be easier to pull teeth, but atsumu—somehow—manages. figures.
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The last of his regulars bade Osamu farewell close to an hour ago now, and Atsumu has been nursing his glass of apple juice ever since. Sakusa Kiyoomi, the theme of tonight’s pity party, gets brought up every time Atsumu opens his maw, which is all the time. Dozens of tissues have been eviscerated in his name by Atsumu’s carefully groomed hands, and Osamu knows more about the guy’s preferred brands of shampoo, cologne, and antibacterial wipes than he does about the farm-to-fork odysseys of his produce, even though he prides himself on being able to recite the blood type of the very hen that laid what then became a given customer’s eggroll upon request.
It bears mentioning that the poorly concealed attraction his brother seems to harbor for one of his spikers is hardly the issue. Osamu can take waxing poetic about how the moonlight ‘dawdles’ whenever it ‘decides to pay Sakusa’s pupils a call’ or whatever nonsense his idiot of a brother will come up with next, nauseating though it may be.
No, what Osamu has no patience for is the lovesickness.
Why matchmaking is (not) an endeavor doomed to failure: a case study.
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“I’m currently in my mating cycle. Humans don’t have one, but basically I have a biological, uncontrollable urge to fuck every few months.”
Thoughts of the omegaverse and knots and slick flash across Atsumu’s mind, cursed knowledge that he thought he’d long suppressed after a night of going down the online rabbit hole. But before he can ask something stupid, like if Sakusa is an alpha or omega, Sakusa continues:
“It’s taking every last bit of my self restraint to not pull you down and fuck you right now.” Sakusa’s grip on the comforter tightens. “So please leave.”
or: what does Atsumu do when he breaks into Sakusa's apartment to learn that his FWB is an alien? (Spoiler alert: he doesn't leave.)
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“You are soooo impossible to please,” Atsumu coos, tail wagging. “Fine, then. What would I hafta do five times for it to actually be impressive?”
Atsumu can easily score five services aces in one game, but can he wring five orgasms out of his stubborn boyfriend?
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Stretching, Atsumu drags the robe and face-plants in it happily, inhaling Sakusa’s scent of citrus peel, sweet rain water, and faint bergamot when he stops, realization hitting him.
His scent hasn’t been this potent since his last heat.
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“If you’d get on with it, we could get a round in before sleeping.”
“A round?” Atsumu laughs, scooping him up as Sakusa yells, raising his arms over his head so he doesn’t get a concussion from braining himself on the roof, “We’re doing as many rounds as we can, baby!”
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Captain Miya Atsumu narrowly avoids crashing his prized Airbus A340 into unforgiving tarmac, but crashes into the life of an equally unforgiving Air Traffic Controller Sakusa Kiyoomi in the process.
Also known as: Aeromance.