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Scent Marking

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Sugawara knew that he should probably set a better example for the team, but he couldn’t help himself.

Michimiya tried his patience.

Truthfully, Suga was well aware that Daichi and Michimiya were just friends, and that she would never dream of splitting the two of them apart, but still.

She didn’t have to touch Daichi’s arm so much, or laugh so loudly at his jokes, or get so into his personal space.

Yes, Suga rationalised later, his reaction was totally justified.

For when he had found them together in the hallway during lunch break, something fierce and undeniably omega inside him had flared up, and really, he couldn’t be held entirely accountable for his actions.

Sure, muscling his way between the pair and latching onto Daichi’s hand in a manoeuvre that knocked poor Michimiya backwards and almost onto the floor had probably been rude, but she had been standing so close to Daichi that their shoulders touched, and that space belonged to Suga.

And sure, maybe his smile had been a little less sunshine and a little more hellfire, but if it meant that Michimiya got the message, then that was just an unfortunate side-effect.

And Suga hadn’t been able to bring himself to care in the slightest as the other omega made hasty excuses and rushed off, not even when Daichi gave him a slightly reprimanding look and scolded him for being so callous.

Suga just tugged on his alpha’s arm to drop Daichi’s head a few inches, allowing him to nuzzle his scent glands all over his head and face, and muttered, “She should learn to recognise when something doesn’t belong to her, then.”

And sure, maybe scent marking his alpha in a school hallway wasn’t entirely the most appropriate thing to do, but if it meant that other omegas would know to back the hell off, well, then-

That was just perfect.



Oikawa knew that he was a possessive omega.

In fact, the entirety of the Aoba Jousai volleyball team and most of the student body knew that Oikawa was a possessive omega. The only exceptions were Oikawa’s most devoted fans, who were delusional enough to believe that Oikawa was still available.

Well, his most devoted fans, and Iwaizumi.

Oikawa lamented almost every day over the fact that his precious Iwa-chan was too dense to realise that Oikawa hated it when other people got close to his alpha. And Iwaizumi was so helpful and willing to train everyone that it meant most of their team got to be close to the ace, which Oikawa frequently complained (read: whined) about.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa found the entire thing hilarious, much to Oikawa’s displeasure. They constantly riled him up by making suggestive remarks whenever Iwaizumi was talking to someone else, and they always mysteriously disappeared whenever Oikawa needed help explaining to his boyfriend exactly why he was so agitated. Oikawa had concluded that they must have a sadistic streak, to want to hurt him like that.

Well, either that or they had taken Iwaizumi’s side, and were punishing him for flirting with so many other students, which he did not do just so he could see Iwaizumi get territorial, no matter what they thought.

Alright, perhaps they were doing it to punish Oikawa for being a hopeless liar, but still, it was cruel.

And really, Oikawa couldn’t exactly be blamed for the fact that eventually he’d had enough of watching other people all over his alpha.

Kindaichi just happened to be the unfortunate victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Iwaizumi had only been helping him practice his swing, nothing even remotely suggestive or romantic about that, but Kindaichi had looked at the ace with stars in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks, and Oikawa gripped the volleyball in his hands so tightly his knuckles went white.

Well, he thought, that does it.

He stalked over to where the pair were practicing, Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s sniggers as his soundtrack, and draped his arm across Iwaizumi’s shoulders, resting his head on top of the other’s.

It was at times like these when Oikawa was most grateful for his height advantage over Iwaizumi, because he was able to rub his scent glands over his alpha without having to be too conspicuous about it. Of course, Iwaizumi could tell what he was doing, and Kindaichi was standing close enough that he could clearly see Oikawa’s actions, but that was the point. The home-wrecking first year was meant to know that Iwaizumi was not for his enjoyment.

The setter plastered a serene smile on his face. “Kindai-chan, why don’t you go and practice with Kunimi for a while? I’d like to set for Iwa-chan now.” Oikawa prided himself on his carefully chosen words, and the fact that he only bared his teeth a little.

Thankfully, Kindaichi nodded quickly and hurried away, not quite meeting Oikawa’s eyes, so he knew his meaning had been understood.

“Oi, what was that for?” Iwaizumi sounded suspicious, but he wasn’t making any move to leave his place under Oikawa’s chin, and the omega relaxed.

“I just want to set for you, Iwa-chan!”

“Ah, leave him, Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa’s voice interrupted whatever Iwaizumi’s reply would have been. “He actually handled that well.”

Oikawa beamed and accepted the praise gracefully, and if it was only because none of them could see the glare he was levelling at Kindaichi’s back, well, it’s not like they’d ever know.



Nishinoya, surprisingly, was not ostentatious when it came to his claim on Asahi. Unlike practically everything else he did, Nishinoya’s possessiveness was expressed subtly, without any words at all.

Some people were even convinced that Noya didn’t get jealous, and the libero would laugh good-naturedly and sometimes jokingly agree if he knew the person well enough, all while Tanaka snorted in the background.

Because he, like the rest of the volleyball team, knew better.

Nishinoya’s lack of a visible reaction wasn’t because he was so self-assured that he never doubted his hold over Asahi, or because he didn’t care enough about Asahi to invest any energy into defending their relationship.

(Anyone who thought like that was foolish, because Noya cared so much it felt like his heart was bleeding out in a strangely pleasant way, and whenever he thought about losing Asahi the way he did just before he got suspended, being stabbed by a rusty nail wouldn’t compare to the pain it caused.)

No, Noya kept himself in line because he didn’t, couldn’t, give any other omega the satisfaction of thinking that they had a chance with Asahi.

If he leapt down the throat of everyone who flirted with Asahi, they would think that he saw them as a threat, and presume that they were capable of loving that glass heart the way Noya could.

And they couldn’t. Nobody could love Asahi the way Noya did, he was sure of it.

But still, Noya couldn’t exactly be content to do nothing, because he still had to stake his claim over his alpha somehow. He’d be damned if he was going to let someone else take what was his.

And Nishinoya had a lot of competition, mainly from older kids, third years or even college students, who thought that Asahi was older than he was. And insecurities about being too young for Asahi aside, Noya’s competition was always more experienced than he was, and it infuriated him.

The worst time had been after practice one day, when Noya and Asahi had volunteered to get the team pork buns. The girl behind the counter had been pretty, probably about 20, and Noya would have told Tanaka how beautiful she was, if she hadn’t spent the entire time flirting with Asahi.

It was almost like Noya hadn’t even existed to her, all of her attention focused on Asahi instead. And the alpha had stuttered and fumbled under the scrutiny, and if Nishinoya had been in a clearer state of mind, he would have helped his boyfriend, but as it stood, a haze of possessiveness had clouded his head, and all he wanted to do was put the girl in her place.

But he couldn’t cause a scene there in the store, so his fists had clenched into the jacket he was holding – Asahi’s jacket – and that was when the idea had occurred to him.

When the pair exited the store with their purchases, Asahi pulled his jacket back on and abruptly froze. Noya stopped as well, but didn’t meet his boyfriend’s eyes, slightly embarrassed now that his jealous haze had passed. While Asahi had finished paying the clerk, Noya had buried his face into Asahi’s jacket, scent marking every inch of it. The entire thing now reeked of his scent, so there could be no doubt to anyone that Asahi was taken.

Nishinoya opened his mouth to apologise, vaguely ashamed, but Asahi shook his head, a small smile on his lips, and entwined their fingers.

From then on, Noya’s method of staking his claim involved scent marking every article of clothing Asahi owned, warning others to back off even when he wasn’t around. It was subtle, and it meant that he didn’t have to glare ferociously at people who were actually his friends, so Noya was happy.

Besides, it always made Asahi smile shyly and kiss him almost breathless, so he knew it was all worth it in the end.



Yaku prided himself on being collected. He, like Karasuno’s Sugawara, was the team’s mother, possibly because he was the oldest omega, and that meant that while he could be strict at times, he always had it together.

Even when he was frustrated with Lev, he was still clear-headed.

But watching other people flirting with Lev? That, it seemed, was enough to break Yaku’s rational mind.

He and Lev hadn’t even been dating for very long. It had taken the over-eager alpha a long time to break past Yaku’s initial annoyance and worm his way into the omega’s heart, but he’d managed in the end, no thanks to Kuroo, whatever their captain claimed.

And now, while Lev still did frustrate him sometimes, Yaku would be lying through his teeth if he said that he didn’t care for him a lot.

Beyond that, he knew that Lev was the perfect alpha material. He was tall and strong, and any omega with their head on straight could see how good he would be as a mate.

But that didn’t give them the right to move in on Yaku’s alpha.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Kuroo snickering as he walked off towards the gym for practice, leaving Yaku entirely alone as he watched the first year omega smile bashfully and bare his throat at an entirely oblivious Lev.

There was a split second in which Yaku couldn’t process anything other than the fact that this audacious kid had just submitted himself to someone else’s alpha, one of the most intimate things you could do with someone before you were mated. And then, alongside the roaring in his ears as blood rushed to his face, Yaku’s temper snapped.

He stalked over to where the pair were standing, and smiled thinly when Lev interrupted his own tirade to greet him enthusiastically. As Lev bent down to crush him into a tight hug, Yaku sent a glare over his shoulder at the other omega, who flinched and ran away. Yaku distinctly swore he heard a whimper, and he had to fight to stop a smug smile from spreading across his lips.

When Lev released him and stood up again, he seemed confused to find his friend missing. “Where’d Takuto go?”

Yaku shrugged, forcing his expression to look nonchalant even though his blood boiled at the lingering scent of the other omega. “He left. Now,” Yaku paused, feeling his face heat up, but determined to see this through. “Come down here.”

Lev tipped his head to one side, puzzled. “What?”

Yaku sighed in frustration, and reached up to yank his boyfriend down to his level. Lev stumbled and almost fell, but Yaku caught and steadied him, and quickly rubbed his scent glands over Lev’s head before he could change his mind.

Once he pulled away, he found Lev staring at him with wide eyes, and Yaku looked to one side, embarrassed. “Shut up.”

“Aww, Yaku-san! You’re so cute when you’re jealous,” Lev smirked.

Furious, Yaku hit him upside the head and stormed off to practice, leaving Lev whining on the ground.

And to think he was desperate to stake his claim on Lev, of all people.



Kenma hit the button to kill the enemy on the screen a little harder than he should have, but he couldn’t help it, he was annoyed.

Even though Kuroo was sat beside him on the train, and the familiar scent of his alpha was as comforting as ever, Kenma couldn’t help but feel frustrated.

And Kuroo was the problem.

Not Kuroo personally, he hadn’t done anything in particular to irritate the omega, it was just who he was.

Kenma knew that Kuroo was flirtatious. He had been Kuroo’s best friend for many years before they had started dating, and he knew how Kuroo spoke to people. That didn’t bother him, because he knew that Kuroo didn’t mean anything serious by it, and besides, he was the one who got to experience Kuroo’s softer side, which more than made up for it.

What did bother him was when other people didn’t realise that they weren’t supposed to flirt back. There was only one person that was allowed to flirt that way with Kuroo, and that was Bokuto.

The omega girl currently sat on Kuroo’s other side was decidedly not Bokuto.

She had got on the train at the stop after they did, and had immediately sat down next to Kuroo, striking up a conversation with him that had quickly turned into flirtatious bantering.

Kenma couldn’t exactly say he blamed the girl for seeking Kuroo out. He knew that his mate was attractive, and he knew that he had many starstruck followers at school. Kuroo’s entire manner screamed sex appeal and Kenma understood, he did, why so many people were drawn to him.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

Kenma half listened to the conversation going on beside him and half focused on the game he was playing, and wished that he wasn’t so hopeless at interacting with people. If he was more like Shouyou, then he would have been able to join in on the conversation and steer it away from flirting with Kuroo, or better still, have already been talking to Kuroo and thus deterred the girl from sitting beside him at all.

As it stood, Kenma could do nothing but abuse the buttons on his game, steadily feeling himself getting more annoyed as each minute passed. Couldn’t the girl tell that Kuroo wasn’t on the market? Was Kenma’s scent really so weak that it wasn’t noticeable?

Frowning as he cleared the level, Kenma cast his mind back and tried to remember the last time he and Kuroo had scent-marked each other. Kuroo was enough of a jealous type to scent mark Kenma regularly, but Kenma was usually a lot more lax. He didn’t really see the fuss in all of the secondary gender stuff, beyond knowing about his heats, and it occasionally annoyed him that so much of his biology and even his thoughts were dictated by the fact that he was an omega. Experimentally, Kenma flared his nostrils to scent the air, and found that his own scent on Kuroo was practically non-existent.

Non-existent enough that this other omega thought she had free reign on Kenma’s alpha.

Okay, that settled it.

“Kuroo,” Kenma muttered, and the messy-haired boy turned to him immediately. Kenma felt a vindictive sense of victory in that, which he knew he should have felt bad for, but he was too annoyed at the girl to care.

“What is it, Kenma?” Kuroo asked him, smiling one of his real smiles, not one of the smirks he usually wore. Kenma felt a bone-deep sense of pleasure in that too.

He slipped his game console back into his bag and shifted closer into Kuroo’s side, tilting his head upwards in a silent gesture that he knew Kuroo would understand. Sure enough, the alpha instantly put his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, smiling apologetically at the now stunned girl.

“Sorry, my mate needs me for a while,” he explained, and Kenma would have purred if he wasn’t so aware of the other omega’s startled eyes on him.

She shook her head, flushing as the situation dawned on her at last. “A-ah, no, that’s okay, this is my stop anyway…” she trailed off and hurriedly grabbed her bag, rushing off the train as soon as it pulled into the station. Kenma felt himself relax rapidly as he watched her go.

Kuroo leant down and pressed his nose into Kenma’s hair. “Kenma, you know no else could ever compare to you for me, right?”

Kenma tilted his head up higher, and Kuroo obediently slumped in his seat so that Kenma could scent mark him. “I know,” the omega said simply. “But I still don’t want people thinking you could be theirs.”

Kuroo chuckled, and the sound vibrated against Kenma’s chest. “Never gonna happen, Kitten.”

Kenma believed him. But if he started scent marking Kuroo more often from then on, well, that was just a minor detail.



Hinata couldn’t understand why Kageyama didn’t have a bigger fan club.

Sure his face was scary sometimes, but his smiling was getting better, and once you got past your initial fear, it was plain to see that Kageyama was really pretty.

Or, well, handsome then, because he’d been called pretty on numerous occasions, and he didn’t think his scrawny, slightly-too-ginger self could ever compare to the beauty of Kageyama.

Hinata caught himself aggressively wishing that more people would notice how amazing and extremely talented his boyfriend was, because Kageyama had suffered enough in junior high and he really deserved the confidence boost of knowing that he wasn’t a failure to the team. And Hinata knew that it would really help if people who weren’t volleyball players noticed.

So when his wish was realised, and somebody actually did notice how amazing and perfect Kageyama was, Hinata couldn’t understand why it bothered him so much.

They’d just won a practice match at a neighbouring school, and it was the type of school that had a lot of managers and even some spectators watching, though not on the scale of Aoba Jousai. Hinata was still riding the high that always accompanied every victory, even though he’d been given the menial (and slightly annoying, given his height) task of taking the net down.

Wide smile still in place, Hinata turned to look for Kageyama, and stopped suddenly when he saw him.

Kageyama was not alone.

The girl who was talking to him looked like one of the managers from the other school, petite and delicate and omega, his subconscious supplied, and Hinata struggled to understand why he’d thought the word with so much venom. Yachi was an omega, after all, along with almost half the team, so it wasn’t like Kageyama never interacted with omegas.

Pouting, Hinata shuffled closer so that he could hear their conversation, still unsure as to why something in his chest felt so unsettled.

“…a-and the way you set that ball from the back of the court was i-incredible!” The girl stuttered, her cheeks dusted pink. Hinata frowned, chewing on the inside of his cheek as Kageyama thanked her. He sounded way too stiff, but there was an undercurrent of surprised pleasure there too, and Hinata didn’t like it.

The omega balled his fists, mind flailing desperately as he tried to figure out why it made him upset. He should have been happy that someone outside of their team was finally taking an interest in Kageyama, but instead his insides were burning, and his body was flooding with the adrenaline rush that screamed threat. Only he was allowed to talk to Kageyama like that.

Whenever he explained the situation afterwards, Hinata always claimed that his next actions hadn’t entirely been his own, because he certainly hadn’t made the conscious decision to leap onto Kageyama’s back and attack his alpha’s head with his scent glands, but that was what he did.

The girl had squeaked in surprise, and Kageyama jumped so violently that Hinata almost fell off, but at the last second the setter grabbed hold of his legs to keep him in place. “O-oi, dumbass, what are you doing?”

Hinata took a second to reply, because he was too busy giving the girl a steely-eyed look that he genuinely felt bad for later, but could only enjoy at the time. The fact that she lowered her eyes and shuffled away felt good too.

“I’m celebrating, Bakageyama! We won!” Hinata nuzzled his face back into Kageyama’s hair as soon as the girl had walked away. “And your toss was amazing.”

“Dumbass,” Kageyama huffed, but Hinata could hear that he was happy. “Your spike was good too.”

Hinata beamed, no traces of the burning feeling from before left in his chest. He even managed to smile at the girl who’d been flirting with Kageyama when Daichi called for them to line up.

Later on, Hinata confessed everything to Suga, who sat him down and patiently explained exactly how omegas handled jealousy. In exchange for the information, Hinata pretended not to notice that Suga was always more irate whenever the captain of the girls volleyball team was around.

He had his own alpha to watch out for, anyway.



Yamaguchi always struggled with inadequacy. He spent most of his time feeling like he wasn’t good enough: for learning, for volleyball, for Tsukki.

Truthfully, he knew that Tsukki cared for him. Yamaguchi was the only person the snarky alpha had ever allowed to get close to him, and it had been Tsukki who’d asked if Yamaguchi would be his mate, a fact that still surprised the omega.

Yamaguchi knew that Tsukki would never give anyone else the time of day, knew that no one else mattered to him, he did, but that knowledge didn’t help him whenever he saw other omegas propositioning his alpha.

Tsukishima was actually more popular with the other students than his blunt attitude would have suggested. Not that he himself went seeking out other people to talk to, never that, but because of his intelligence and his height and his general aura of alpha protectiveness, omegas from every first year class were attracted to him. Yamaguchi had caught his boyfriend being confessed to on multiple occasions, and while Tsukki always blandly turned them down, it still bothered him.

Yamaguchi was no stranger to the white-hot flare of possessiveness omegas got whenever someone else encroached on their territory. Tsukki was his, and although the fear of losing him from his primary state of mind was most prominent, the omega in him still thought it a threat whenever anyone bashfully asked if they could meet Tsukki behind the gym “just to talk.”

And really, he could hardly be blamed for eventually having enough.

This time, the boy had been from Yachi’s class, a tiny and admittedly adorable-looking omega with dark auburn hair and enchanting blue eyes. He was gorgeous, and Yamaguchi’s heart squeezed painfully when he stopped them at the end of the hallway to ask if Tsukki could meet him behind the gym before practice, blushing delicately.

Yamaguchi almost asked him to fuck off, but stopped himself. He wouldn’t embarrass Tsukki like that, even if it hurt to let him go.

Yamaguchi had asked him once, why he didn’t just tell them that he couldn’t meet them, but Tsukki had explained that they’d only come back another time, and that it was easier to just get them off his back as soon as they asked.

And so Yamaguchi walked to practice alone, sullen and downcast for the rest of their training session.

He could tell that Tsukki was curious, and wanted to know what was bothering him so much, but Yamaguchi let them walk in silence for half of the journey home. He didn’t even speak when Tsukki led him to the bench overlooking their favourite part of town, and after a moment, the alpha pulled his headphones over his ears. Tsukki would never push Yamaguchi, instead choosing to wait until he was ready to talk, but Yamaguchi could see the way his fingers drummed an irregular beat against his leg, which said that he was dying to know.

And finally, after a minute or two of waiting, Yamaguchi decided screw it, he was done letting other people try to move in on his alpha. He jolted onto his knees on the bench, facing Tsukishima, who startled and almost hit himself in the face as he reached up to pull his headphones off.

“Yamaguchi?” he asked, but the omega said nothing, instead leaning towards Tsukki, chin outstretched. At the last second, he stopped himself, realising that Tsukki was watching him with wide eyes. They’d never done this, and Yamaguchi had always thought that Tsukki just didn’t care for any of it. Abruptly, he felt ridiculous, and looked down at the floor, blushing.

“Sorry, Tsukki…”

“It’s fine.”

Yamaguchi looked up in surprise as Tsukishima interrupted him. The alpha wasn’t meeting his eyes, looking off towards the trees, but Yamaguchi could see a faint blush on his cheeks.


“You don’t have to ask about that. You could have just told me what was bothering you.”

Yamaguchi blinked, sudden warmth flooding through his chest. With a chirped, “Sorry, Tsukki!”, the omega settled to rubbing his scent glands on his boyfriend’s face, while Tsukishima huffed and tried to act like it annoyed him, though Yamaguchi could see the faint traces of a smile on his face.

They didn’t have nearly as much trouble with pesky omegas again.



Truthfully, the fact that he got jealous still surprised Akaashi. He, like Kenma, wasn’t prone to outbursts of emotion, and he knew he wasn’t the most expressive person. Even presenting as an omega hadn’t done much to change Akaashi’s perfectly put-together life.

But Bokuto Koutarou brought out a lot of new things in him, it seemed.

His captain was loud and exuberant and had a rollercoaster of mood swings, but he was also alpha in a way that made Akaashi feel warm and safe and omega inside, and he certainly changed the way Akaashi viewed his heats. The setter had watched Bokuto wrestle over asking him to be his mate for a long time, wanting to let him have the satisfaction of doing so, but also not understanding what was stopping him. He knew that he could be blunt and shot Bokuto’s shenanigans down at times, but he still thought that his feelings for his captain had been apparent.

(He’d eventually had to enlist Kuroo’s help, and the Nekoma captain had never let him forget it.)

But they’d managed to get together in the end, and neither of them could be happier. Setting for Bokuto was easier than it had ever been, and their team was happy now that their captain and vice-captain had finally got their act together.

Akaashi knew they were, they’d said as much on various occasions, usually coupled with innuendos and almost always with the intention of flustering him (not Bokuto, never Bokuto, he was used to it now and laughed it off).

And so Akaashi couldn’t understand why some of them seemed so determined to get in his way.

It had started small at first, Konoha and Sarukui spending extra time with Bokuto in practice. That Akaashi had been able to handle. Bokuto was one of the best aces in the nation and it was only natural for the other wing spikers on his team to want to learn from him.

But then it developed further, into smiles that were a little too bright and glances that held a little too long.

Or, like right then, when it was a lingering touch from each of them on each of Bokuto’s shoulders. Keiji knew, somewhere inside, that it was irrational to feel the way he did. But against all of his better judgement, anger and envy shot like a barb through his chest and lodged there, and Akaashi’s feet moved before he was consciously aware of moving them.

Sarukui saw him approach, and something in his face must have given the wing spiker a warning, because he immediately let go and backed away. Konoha, on the other hand, was utterly clueless to the fast approaching wrath of an omega scorned.

Akaashi paused just behind the pair, and fought to stop clenching his fists. “Bokuto-san,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

Both Konoha and Bokuto looked up, the latter brightening considerably when he realised that it was Akaashi standing there. The captain opened his mouth to greet his mate, but before he could, Akaashi planted himself firmly into his lap, wrapped his arms around his neck, and buried Bokuto’s face into his own scent glands. That would teach them to try and steal his mate.

“A-Akaashi?!” Bokuto shrieked. The rest of the gym went completely silent, staring in shock at their vice-captain’s actions.

When he was satisfied that he’d made his point, Akaashi pulled away and got up nonchalantly, leaving Bokuto stuttering in his place. He glared a little at Konoha, who held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, although Akaashi could see the amusement in his face. Calmly, as though nothing had happened, Akaashi called for practice to resume, and one by one, his teammates did just that. Akaashi spared a glance over his shoulder, noting with faint pride that Bokuto was fast beginning to look like a tomato, and went to join the others on the court, deciding to take pity on his boyfriend this time.

It was only later, when Bokuto was still sitting on the bench with a dazed look on his face, that Konoha admitted that they only flirted so openly with Bokuto to rile Akaashi up. His subsequent apology was tainted by the tears of mirth streaming down his face and the echoing sniggers of the rest of the team.

Akaashi didn’t speak to him for a week.