L.🌿 atssn thread in 📌

L.🌿 atssn thread in 📌



#sakuatsu, fluff, getting together Kiyoomi reads fanfic -- Kiyoomi discovers early on he's not the biggest fan of watching porn. He first watches some in high school after a bunch of boys won't stop talking about it.

While it does play a part in his gay awakening, he finds it lacks depth. Emotion. He loves romance novels though. And romance anime and manga. This leads to him dipping his toes into the world of fanfiction, and once he opens that door he never goes back to porn again.

He’s not really embarrassed about reading fanfic. Throughout university he spends a decent amount of time in fandom spaces and it feels pretty normal to him (although he has the wherewithal not to loudly announce it to his irl classmates).

But one day, after watching a televised volleyball match featuring a certain blonde haired setter who had gotten even hotter since training camp (oh my god those THIGHS), Kiyoomi feels shame for the first time ever while doing a search in ao3.

His face burns hot and he does a quick check over his shoulder before typing “Miya Atsumu” and hitting “search”. This is silly, he tells himself. There probably won’t even be anything. Oh but there is. Miya has become a bit of a celebrity in the sports world, at least in Japan.

There are numerous fics involving him with other members of the so-called “monster generation”. Kiyoomi scrolls for a while, shoulders hunched up with embarrassment, until he finds one that’s mostly focused on Atsumu.

He makes the horrifying realization that even these fictional stories about other people dating or sleeping with Atsumu are making him jealous. However being horny overrides wanting to die from shame, and that night Kiyoomi jerks off to fanfiction about Miya Atsumu.

It’s the first time, but far from the last. Fast forward to a year later, and Kiyoomi has graduated from college and joined MSBY, becoming a member of the famed monster generation himself. He tells himself he accepted the Jackals’ offer solely because they’re an excellent team.

It had nothing to do with a certain blonde setter. On his first day of practice, Kiyoomi realizes what a horrible mistake he has made. How is he supposed to look Miya Atsumu in the eye, stand on the same court with him day in and day out, after what he’s read, what he’s done?

One glance at Miya’s smirk, seeing that sinful tongue he’s read oh so much about somehow poking out of his mouth, and Kiyoomi feels himself flush from head to toe. A drawl of “Heya Omi-kun” practically has him panting. Instead he snaps back, “Don’t call me that.”

Kiyoomi promises himself his little fanfic habit stops /now/. He does his best to keep his distance from Miya. He speaks to him as little as possible, being curt and snappy whenever he does.

He feels like a jerk but he’s certain that somehow Miya will find out about his dirty little secret. He’ll take one look at Kiyoomi’s eyes and just /know/. Miya is stubborn though, and persistent. And for whatever reason, he’s made it his mission to befriend Kiyoomi.

Over time, they become actual friends. Kiyoomi hasn’t looked at ao3 since his first day of practice, so he finds it easier to open up and get closer to Miya.

His strange phase starts to feel like a distant memory, now that furtively reading words on a screen has been replaced with actual time spent with the blonde, both on and off the court. Kiyoomi can almost convince himself it never even happened. Almost.

Any progress Kiyoomi feels he’s made comes crashing down one evening. The team is out at a bar, celebrating a win. Kiyoomi looks over at the bar to see what’s taking Atsumu so long, and what he sees clouds his mind with a familiar jealousy, this time so much more real.

Some stranger is hitting on Atsumu, leaning close and sneaking in casual touches along the setter’s arm. The fact that Atsumu isn’t pushing the stranger away feels like a knife to Kiyoomi’s gut. Kiyoomi quickly excuses himself and heads back to his apartment.

Once home, he paces back and forth, unsure how to calm himself. He has no right to feel this way, he chastises himself. He and Atsumu are just friends. For some reason, he finds himself opening his laptop, pulling up a website he hasn’t thought about for a while.

To both Kiyoomi’s horror and delight, there are now a plethora of works with himself and Atsumu as the main pair. He had no idea people even shipped them. He hesitates for a second before clicking on one, before deciding fuck it. He has nothing to lose.

Just as he’s getting into it, there’s a loud banging on his front door. Kiyoomi groans in frustration. He’s half hard and well on his way to being fully so. He’s just going to ignore whoever it is, it can’t possibly be anything important.

But the banging continues, refusing to be ignored. Much to Kiyoomi’s horror, it’s accompanied by a loud “Omiiiii,” in a voice he unfortunately knows all too well. Miya Atsumu is at his door, in the flesh. At the worst possible time.

“Omi ya there? Omi let me in!” Fuck. Knowing Atsumu, he won’t go away. He’s persistent. Kiyoomi is also mildly curious as to why he is even at his apartment. So with a final sigh, he tucks himself back in and does up his pants.

When he opens the door he’s met with a slightly disheveled and sweaty Atsumu. Did he and the stranger...? So quickly? No, they couldn’t have. “What the hell are you doing here Miya,” he sneers. “And why are you all sweaty.”

Why’d ya just leave?” Atsumu is panting slightly as he speaks. “An’ I’m sweaty cause I ran here.” Oh. What? “Why?” “Jeez Omi, ya gonna make a guy confess in yer doorway? At least let me in.”

And then Atsumu is pushing past Kiyoomi into his apartment, just like he’s pushed himself into all aspects of Kiyoomi’s life. “I’m gettin’ myself a glass of water.” Kiyoomi doesn’t reply to that, still trying to process Atsumu's previous words. Confess? Was he imagining things?

Then the worst thing that could possibly happen, happens. Kiyoomi realizes he left his laptop open on the kitchen island. Atsumu is pouring himself a glass of water, and idly glances at the screen. He looks away, showing no reaction, so Kiyoomi thinks he’s safe.

Then Atsumu frowns and looks at the screen again. His eyes widen. They go so wide they’d probably take over his whole face if that were physically possible. Kiyoomi is oh so fucked. He wants the ground to swallow him whole. He’ll have to switch teams for sure.

Maybe even change his name, move countries... “Omi!!!” Atsumu shouts, waving his hand holding the glass of water so that liquid spills everywhere. “Oops,” he adds sheepishly, eyeing the mess. Usually Kiyoomi would scold him, but he’s hardly in a position to do so now.

“Uh, Omi,” Atsumu continues, more gently. He doesn’t sound angry, or disgusted, but Kiyoomi is still braced for the worst. “Whatcha readin here?” A grin starts to take over his face, and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Are ya readin’ porn about us Omi?”

Kiyoomi stays quiet, staring at the ground. He’s still hoping he can disappear. He doesn’t realize that Atsumu has walked over to him until he feels a gentle touch on his arm. Then Atsumu’s hand is under his chin, tilting his head up until their eyes meet.

“Does this mean ya like me back Omi?” Atsumu asks shyly. He sounds ... hopeful? “W-what?” Kiyoomi finally manages to speak. “Y- you like me?” “Tch, fer a college boy ya sure are stupid.” Atsumu sighs. “Yeah Omi, I like ya. I like ya a lot.”

Kiyoomi frowns. “Well what about that guy at the bar?” he counters. Atsumu looks surprised for a second, like he had forgotten all about that. Then his expression turns into a smug grin. “So ya /were/ jealous! Is that why ya ran off?” Kiyoomi just crosses his arm and pouts.

“Aw Omi, he was hittin on /me/! I just didn’t know how to get out of it without bein’ rude.” Atsumu’s lips take on a pout of their own. “Then I turned around and you were gone.” Oh. Perhaps Kiyoomi had jumped to conclusions rather hastily.

He’s about to apologize, but Atsumu looks like he’s positively gloating at the realization that Kiyoomi got jealous. "Oh shut up,” he says instead. It lacks any bite though, and Atsumu’s grin only widens. “You really like me?” Kiyoomi asks again, just to be sure.

“Even after ... what you just saw on my laptop?” His face burns with embarrassment. But Atsumu just chuckles. “Yes Omi. I’m actually kinda flattered. But also confused. What exactly was that?” “Um, do you really want me to explain?” Atsumu nods enthusiastically

So Kiyoomi does. First, he cleans up Atsumu’s spilled water, shooting a pointed glare at the blonde. He pours them each a new glass, and then as they sit side by side on his couch, he begins to explain the world that is ao3.

A few weeks later, Atsumu bounces into Kiyoomi’s apartment, waving his phone around excitedly. Kiyoomi is already regretting giving him a key. “Hey Omi, I was lookin through them fic thingies, y’know, fer inspiration maybe. And I found a really good one, I wantcha ta read it!”

Never in Kiyoomi’s wildest dreams did he think he’d be dating Miya Atsumu, let alone dating Miya Atsumu AND discussing fanfiction with him. He smiles at the blonde idiot that he adores so much. “Sure, I’ll take a look. What’s it called?”

Atsumu’s lips turn up into a grin that could only be described as feral, as he says, “Terminal Curiosity”. // fin!

shout out to @favspacetwink and @moonlumie, without your renown classic this ending would not have been possible :p

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