Arrogant, Entitled, and Everything In Between

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/62030149.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Relationship: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Characters: Miya Atsumu, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Meian Shuugo, Kuroo Tetsurou, Oikawa
Tooru, Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu's Parents, Sakusa Kiyoomi's
Family, Original Characters, Akaashi Keiji, Miya Osamu
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Miya Atsumu, Alpha Sakusa
Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug,
Sakusa Kiyoomi is Bad at Feelings, Protectiveness, Omegas with
pussies, Enemies to Lovers
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2025-01-07 Words: 1,640 Chapters: 1/?
 Arrogant, Entitled, and Everything In Between
by qrmins

Summary

“Who the fuck let ya in?” Atsumu demands, slamming the door shut behind him and
storming into the room, irritation bubbling up inside him. Just perfect.

“I’m your new bodyguard,” the man says in lieu of an answer. His voice is deep, the
rumble raising goosebumps across the omega’s skin that he chooses to ignore.

Spoilt Omega Miya Atsumu & Bodyguard Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Notes

hi there...

See the end of the work for more notes

“Do you know why you’re here, Sakusa?”

Kiyoomi sighs, oh he knows why he's here alright. The agency seems to have lost all hope
again and decided to come to him for help.

Current crisis: Miya Atsumu. The alpha has heard a lot about him from his colleagues—An
insolent, spoiled and entitled trust fund baby. Honestly Kiyoomi could use a lot of words to
describe him, though none of them are particularly flattering.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Please—”

“No,” Kiyoomi cuts him off. He does not need that kind of stress in his life. What he needs
right now is a day-off and a cigarette.

Meian sighs, rubbing a large hand down his exhausted face. It seems his boss is also a victim
to Miya’s terror.

Miya Atsumu who has gone through four bodyguards all within one month, leaving them
resigning from their posts with nothing but insults to say.

“He’s nothing but a pretty face. Narcissism personified,” Ikejiri scowls, chewing on a plastic
straw.

“A hard time,” Terushima sighs.

You get the idea.

“I think if you just hear me out, that would be appreciated,” Meian requests.

Kiyoomi sighs through his nose, folds his arms against his chest and leans back in his chair.
“Go ahead.”

“Listen, I really think you’re the man for the job here. We’ve tried everyone. You know I
wouldn’t ask for you if it wasn’t important,” the alpha explains.

Kiyoomi has thoroughly read through Miya’s file. Nope, he is not touching that with a ten
foot pole. He voices that thought.

“Can I interest you in an incentive?” Meian inquires.

That peaks Kiyoomi’s interest. He raises an eyebrow. “I’m listening”

Meian leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. His tone is casual, but there's a spark
of challenge in his eyes. “Let’s cut to the chase. This isn’t just any job. We take care of our
people, especially someone with your skills.”

Kiyoomi’s brow quirks, but he says nothing.

Meian smiles. “You’ll receive compensation; significantly higher than the average rates we
usually run.”

“Significantly? I need numbers,” Kiyoomi demands.

“140%” Meian grins. That is nearly ¥21,000,000. This money cannot be coming from the
agency.

Meian looks at him knowingly. “Miya Issei does not want a single scratch on his boy.”

Kiyoomi nods in understanding.

The wealthy can afford the luxury of world-class security, shielding themselves from the
chaos and dangers that the rest of the world faces daily. Oh how he loathes this twisted
capitalist world. Safety has become a commodity—something that can only be bought by
those with deep pockets. Meanwhile, those without money are left to fend for themselves,
unable to afford even the basic decency of feeling safe.

But Kiyoomi has fallen victim to this oh so harsh, twisted capitalist world! He accepts the
offer without further argument.

“Long day?”

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi scowls, accepting the cigarette from Kuroo. They are standing in the
smoking area just outside Headquarters.

Kuroo cackles, throwing his head back from where he is leaning on his shoulder against the
wall. “I heard.”

Kiyoomi takes a drag, the smoke curling in his lungs and exhales, air and tension leaving his
body in tandem. “Word travels fast,” Kiyoomi answers, ticked off.

“It was only a matter of time. You’re perfect for the job!” Kuroo smirks, as sly as ever.

“So I’ve heard.”

Kuroo takes the cigarette. “What made you agree?”

“The pay. Managed to squeeze in a couple vacation days too.”

“Sweet! That’s great, man,” Kuroo nods.

“Yeah well, it’s the price I pay.”

“I don’t think he’s all that bad,” the alpha tries to reason.

Kiyoomi levels him with a blank stare. “I got a 140% increment.”

Kuroo blinks, surprised. “Oh, I take it back. You’re fucked.”

Kiyoomi sighs, rolling his eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s so unfair!” Atsumu whines, dramatically flopping face first into the bed.

“You’ve got to face it, Atsumu, you can’t keep avoiding this,” Tooru shrugs as he blows on
his freshly painted toenails.

Atsumu managed to escape his penthouse before his new bodyguard arrived, booking it all
the way to the Oikawa villa where his best friend likes to stay whenever he’s having one of
his tantrums. He likes ‘running away’ from home. Atsumu doesn’t see how he’s running
away though since all the servants that work the villa report back to Tooru’s family. The
omega tried to explain to him that it still counted as running away but Atsumu thinks not.

“Ya don’t get it! It’s so annoying how I have to deal with someone breathing down my neck
twenty-four-seven!”

Tooru barks out a laugh, not at all sympathetic. “I’m lowkey jealous. I wish my parents gave
enough of a shit about me like your dad does.” Tooru has a tumultuous relationship with his
family.

The Oikawas are not exactly the warm and caring type. Tooru is forced to live as the black
sheep, all because he chose to pursue art rather than take over the family business. As the
only child, his decision seems to irritate his parents even more.

Atsumu, on the other hand, does not have the same family dynamics. He’s practically his
daddy’s little princess. He doesn’t have to lift a single finger because he has his older brother,
Osamu to do all the work for him. He thinks he’s lucky he doesn’t have to take over the
company even if their Mom insists Atsumu contributes.

“It’s not that easy. I wish my dad never found out about Shoji.”

Shoji is Atsumu’s ex-boyfriend now turned stalker. Atsumu broke up with him simply
because he couldn't take a good Instagram picture to save his life. But things quickly spiraled
from there. Shoji became obsessive and controlling, pressuring Atsumu to stay in the
relationship even when Atsumu wanted out.

It was hard for Atsumu to escape Shoji’s grip because they ran in the same social circles-
meaning they were both from Japan’s most powerful and influential families-and no case
could be built without solid evidence.

When Issei found out, he had little to no choice but to put Atsumu under protection even at
the expense of his omega son’s comfort.

“You know that’s not true,” Tooru laughs, standing up and stretching.

It’s not. Atsumu loathes Shoji with every fibre of his being and does take little comfort in
having a person making sure he’s safe. He’s just annoyed by the constant surveillance. He
cannot do anything alone.
“These outfits are so last season,” Tooru mutters some time later, flipping through a fashion
magazine with a critical eye. “I can’t believe people still wear this.”

Atsumu leans over, eyeing the page. “Let me see what’s so bad,” he says with a grin,
reaching for the magazine. He flicks through the pages, raising an eyebrow. “You’re right,
this is pretty tragic.”

Atsumu hums softly to himself, balancing five shopping bags from his and Tooru’s
impromptu spree as he fumbles with the door. He swings it open, stepping into the dimly lit
hallway, and flicks on the light, flooding the luxurious penthouse with a harsh glow.

The room is eerily quiet. His eyes scan the space, and then—frozen mid-step—he freezes. A
figure sits on one of the couches in the living room, mindlessly scrolling through their
phone.

The man raises his head and looks at him flatly. He’s a large man—an alpha, without a doubt,
though Atsumu can’t tell by scent, not with those scent patches masking everything. Atsumu
also notes his dark, curly hair and his unfairly handsome face. He wears a crisp black suit, tie
still in place despite the late hour.

“Who the fuck let ya in?” Atsumu demands, slamming the door shut behind him and
storming into the room, irritation bubbling up inside him. Just perfect.

“I’m your new bodyguard,” the man says in lieu of an answer. His voice is deep, the rumble
raising goosebumps across the omega’s skin that he chooses to ignore.

“That’s not what I asked,” Atsumu snaps.

The man ignores him and goes back to scrolling.

Atsumu’s eyebrow ticks. He stomps towards the alpha and stands between his spread legs,
arms crossed. “Name?” he fumes.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he answers without raising his head. Something about his relaxed and
easy posture manages to make Atsumu’s blood boil. He’s angry. No one ignores him.

“Ya are supposed to be doing yer job, not scrolling through yer stupid phone.”

Sakusa sighs and finally looks up at him. Atsumu grins. “And that is?” The man is more
handsome up close. Two moles atop his right eyebrow, he notes.

“Guarding me, y’know since yer my bodyguard and all.”

“I don’t see any threats to be guarding you at the moment,” he replies monotonously like a
robot. Like a hot, sexy robot but a robot nonetheless.

“Perfect! Which means ya can leave,” Atsumu cheers, smiles saccharine sweet and wholly
unauthentic.
The man blinks, nudges Atsumu away with his foot and stands up. Atsumu stumbles, equal
parts shocked at the audacity and turned on by the casual display of strength.

“Goodnight,” he says, leaving the room completely and making his way upstairs to the guest
bedroom.

Atsumu follows him, perplexed. Who is this man? And why is it like he’s talking to a brick
wall.

“I didn’t say ya can stay here!” Atsumu whines.

“It’s part of the contract,” Sakusa retorts before he slams the guest bedroom door right in
front of Atsumu’s face.

Atsumu stands there like an idiot, mouth hanging. He gasps, affronted. “I’m going to report
you for misdemeanour!” Atsumu isn’t sure that even makes sense.

He’s met with silence.

Atsumu takes a deep breath, collecting himself before making his way down the hall to his
master bedroom, a mix of annoyance, frustration, and lingering arousal coursing through him.

This is going to be harder than he thought.

End Notes

this is just the beginning

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