#everytime i have to tag i fic i get stumped bc i literally do not know how to tag my writing anymore

[koushuwu]

*:･ﾟ✧ LIE TO ME

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): enemies to lovers, best friends brother, fake relationship, seemingly unrequited feelings, petnames (princess for reader), afab!reader, ovulation, fingering, kissing, implied m!masturbation, dryhumping, emotional smut, no editing we die like neji.

『•• miya atsumu | words: 7,4k | hq masterlist ••』

excerpt: “is it?” you asked, and stepped closer, facing him head on, chin lifted. “convince me then. lie to me. do you love me?”

i can’t sleep.

you sent the message before giving yourself time to consider whether it was a good idea or not. you were friends. sort of. but were you that kind of friends? that kind of couple, you corrected yourself, cringing at the idea of being in any kind of couple with him. for the record, let it be known that this whole relationship wasn’t your idea. honestly there shouldn’t even have been a relationship to begin with, but friends in mutual need helped each other out, right? right. that’s all that this was, really. a mere helping hand. for the both of you. that’s– your phone buzzed in your hand.

Caller ID: Atsumu Miya

“hello?” you said, after staring blankly at the caller id for a moment. why was he calling? and why did he call so fast? why this late? he didn’t offer you any time to mull it over any further, before he stole your breath right out of your lungs.

“want me to come over?” he asked, voice sounding a little rough through the phone. 

“why are you even awake?” you countered, head flopping down onto the pillow. come over? you glanced over at the clock on your bedside table. 3am. he wanted to come over. at 3am.

“just answer the question,” he said instead, and for a moment you contemplated whether you should just hang up. if nothing else then simply to shut him up.

“you didn’t answer mine either,” you gumbled, obviously trying to deflect. to no avail, it seemed.

“i asked first.” smug bastard. you could just hang up. but you didn’t. so why didn’t you? because you could. any time you wanted. “i couldn’t sleep either. now d’you want me to come over?” he asked again. you sighed, eyes squinting into the darkness of your apartment, as if he’d be able to see.

“absolutely not.”

“sure.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, feeling your skin heat. he was really something, that atsumu. full of himself, that’s what he was. utterly full of himself.

“just, what kind of boyfriend would i even be, if i wasn’t there for my girl in her time of need?”

“miya,” you warned, but you were too tired for it to really, truly come across. your voice too soft. his girl? his girl?

“relax,” he said, sighing. “there’s no hidden motifs. i mor gonna do anything you don’t want me to. promise,” he added after a little pause. at that moment you felt a dull jab in your abdomen. something you pushed firmly aside, instead opting for another halfhearted attempt at protest.

“atsumu–” you’d meant it to be another warning, but instead it turned into something else entirely. something soft. something you tried to deny, just as hard as you tried to deny the fact, that maybe, just maybe, you actually wanted to accept. that you definitely weren’t ready to admit just yet. and somehow, atsumu saw right through you.

“i’ll be there in 20,” he said, letting his words hang in the air for only a moment and a half before he added “see you in a bit,” and hung up.

dumbfounded, you lowered the phone from your ear. he hung up on you. he literally hung up on you. that little shit. here you were, doing him a favor with this whole relationship thing, and he just hung up on you? okay, so he might be doing you a favor in return but— it wasn’t even like this whole thing was real in the first place. so why was he coming over in the middle of the night? why did it matter? why did he even care if you slept or not? and why did that dull ache in you abdomen refuse to ease? why?

--

“bet there’s a reason for that, huh?” you’d said to him. it wasn’t often that the two of you hung out alone, but as you both waited on osamu, you might as well do it together. what wasn’t a rarity however, was the way the two of you jabbed at each other. bickering more often than not. you were friends, sure, but he was still an ass.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he’d asked.

“i just mean that there might be a reason why your mom is bugging you about getting a girlfriend,” you said, matter of factly. “i mean you’re fairly good looking, but then you open your mouth and well– you’re not exactly prince charming, are you?”

“you think i’m good looking?”

“see, this is exactly what i mean,” you said, throwing your hands up in mock frustration. “there’s absolutely no way you’d be able to keep a girl satisfied like that.” 

“oh really?” he’d stepped closer to you then. into your personal space, eyes locked on yours. “Wanna bet on that?”

“you’re asking– if i wanna bet?” you’d heard your fair share of dumb things coming from his mouth through the years, but this was straight up laughable. 

“yeah. wanna bet?” he cocked one of those stupidly nice eyebrows of his as he studied you for your reaction.

“how would you even prove that?” you asked, still standing your ground. refusing to step down. that was, until he opened his mouth again.

“we date,” he said, and you staggered, taking a step back. what? you didn’t think this could turn any stupider but he really did just surpass your expectations for how absurd this could possibly get. “just for a while,” he clarified, looking as satisfied as a fat cat after a feast. “think about it. i could get my mom off my back about dying alone, and you need that shitty ex off your back too, right?”

“how do you even know about–” trailing off, you’d looked at him for a moment, mouth agape as it dawned on you. “osamu.” 

“i can neither confirm nor deny that,” he said with a wink that clearly meant that you’d been right. “so. what about it?”

“what about it?” you mocked. “miya, i highly doubt you’d be able to convince anyone that we’re dating. be serious.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he’d almost sounded hurt then. no not hurt, but at least a little surprised. taken aback by your words. but then he smiled. because you hadn’t outright denied his proposal just yet. and you realized that yourself too. you fought him, yes. but you hadn’t exactly said no.

“everyone knows we don’t get along that well,” you told him. and it was true. you did consider him a friend. somewhat. but truly you mostly hang out because of your friendship with osamu. you and him had been best friends since forever, and of course, atsumu had always there too. you’d been closer as kids, but somehow he’d grown incredibly annoying throughout the years.

“opposites attract,” he said, and you scoffed. loudly.

“there’s limits.”

“are you saying you don’t think you can do it?” oh this fucker. of course,he knew exactly how to taunt you into getting his way. which strings to pull and buttons to push to light a fire under your ass. to ignite that competitive side that somehow always yearned to best him. 

“oh i can do it,” you told him, arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him defiantly. “can you?”

“i’m an excellent actor,” he said, and the way the words left him so simply. so easily. it annoyed you to no end but you’d already pushed too hard. you couldn’t back down now.

“fine,” you said. “prove it. but you gotta make it convincing enough to fool even me.”

“easy.”

“is it?” you asked, and stepped closer, facing him head on, chin lifted. “convince me then. lie to me. do you love me?”

“i do.”

“bet.”

--

20 minutes came and went as you paced around your apartment, and like clockwork knuckles rapped against your door. you startled and glanced down the hall. it wasn’t that you’d thought he wouldn’t show. oh no. it was that the ache in your abdomen had only intensified, and by now you’d finally acknowledged it for what it was. and quite frankly, you weren’t sure having atsumu in your home when you were ovulating, in the middle of the night no less, was such a great idea. not that you were keen to delve deeper into that thought, but even you, who found him to be most irritating, had to admit that he was pretty. okay no, pretty didn’t even cut it and you knew that. as much as he was a menace, he was hot. really hot. and while you wouldn’t admit it out loud, often not even to yourself, you’d have to be blind not to be a little bit attracted to him. or well– not be attracted to men. there was another knock, abruptly pulling you from your thoughts. you yanked your hand from your mouth, where you’d been absentmindedly biting your nails. you made for the door, and–

“hey,” he said as soon as you opened the door, and you took him in. why did he have to be so effortlessly pretty? especially at a time like this. with his hair unruly, cheeks flushed from the night cold, and those damned gray sweats he'd undoubtedly tossed on in his rush to get to you. why the hell did he have to be wearing gray sweats? out of everything that he could have worn, why that? and oh dear was he not w– “for a moment there, i thought you weren’t going to open the door. are you gonna let me in, or should i stay out here in the cold?” he asked, and that’s when you realized you’d been staring. at his gray sweatpants. at the shadow of what hid underneath. fuck. yep. you really were ovulating. you shook it off, trying to get a hold of yourself as you stepped aside to let him in. or maybe it was to put some semblance of distance between the two of you.

“sorry.” he eyed you up, as if weighing your apology. or maybe he just took you in, calculating, reading you to find the source of your sleeplessness. as if looking behind your eyes for what you didn’t show. did he see the vicious knots in your stomach? or maybe he just took in your bare legs, trying to hide a smile that fought to pull his lips upward.

“what for?” he asked, now losing the battle as a smile really did stretch across his face. a smile that had you flustered in ways you hadn’t expected when you first texted him earlier. in ways that you didn’t want to be around him. atsumu really did sport a pretty face. he did have a smile that, for some unfathomable reason, made girls swoon. that was even if he never seemed to be able to hold onto them. he also kinda really sucked. which again made you question why you’d even texted him in the first place. since when had you become accustomed enough with him to do so? when had you become comfortable enough with him for that?

“if you keep looking at me like that, i’m going to throw you out on your ass,” you threatened, much to his amusement it seemed as he laughed softly.

“i’d like to see you try,” he challenged with a glimmer in his eyes. but then he held his hands up in surrender. “i’m not here to bicker though. if you want me to leave, i’ll leave. i’m only here because you couldn’t sleep and i want to help.” now it was your turn to study him. he seemed genuine enough, but what was he even planning to do anyway? you couldn’t seem to decipher just that, so you crossed your arms and asked.

“and how’re you going to do that?”

“you tell me,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “whatever you need, really. i can make you tea. a glass of warm milk? i even learned how to make a really good soup from samu.”

“soup is for when you’re sick,” you deadpanned. “i don’t think eating is going to make me–” you started but he countered before you even finished talking.

“i’ve also been told that i give phenomenal backrubs, actually. lie down. i’ll show you,” he offered, shoes discarded by the door as he stepped further into the apartment, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder as he crossed your floor.

“i–”

“i’m also an excellent cuddler.”

“tsumu.” this time he stopped. whether it was your tone or something else, but he stopped and looked back at you. you were wringing your hands in front of you as you looked at him, and he looked at you.

“what is it?”

“it’s just–” you turn your head, avoiding his gaze, suddenly not wanting to see his expression he didn’t look away though. you can feel his eyes on you. “don’t you think this is taking it a little too far? this whole being in love charade? no one else is here to see.” if you’d looked at him though, maybe you’d have deciphered the look in his face just then.

“who says it’s a charade?” you looked at him then. of anything he could have said, you hadn’t expected that. you had told him to be convincing, hadn’t you? and he did it well. when you watched him then, you almost fell for it. then he looked away, heaved a sigh and dragged a hand through his hair. “come on. let’s watch something until you get sleepy.”

you couldn’t quite figure out at that point, what to think or what to make of this whole ordeal. this was all very strange. new. it hardly seemed like atsumu at all, walking through your apartment and scratching the back of his head as he went. dragging your feet, you reluctantly followed behind. for years you’d found him to be a menace, and he definitely didn’t make a point of proving you wrong. at least it hadn’t seemed like he did until now. why was he suddenly so set on acting all nice and caring? why was he suddenly going out of his way like this? it was honestly kind of creepy. no– not creepy. odd. very odd. was this all because you’d told him to be convincing with this whole masquerade of a relationship? because he didn’t want you to have the last word about his acting skills? as much as you hated to admit it, he’d turned out to be quite the actor. that was a bitter thought, really. more bitter than you’d expected it to be. did you really hate losing to him that much? was that it?

“come on,” atsumu reached out and took hold of your wrist. you looked down at him on your couch, one leg popped up as he pulled, offsetting your balance and leaving you no other options but to fall on top of him or plop down between his legs. you opted for the latter. you didn’t recognize the show that he’d turned on, on the tv.

“what’re we watching?” you asked, skin warm under his hand still clasped around your wrist. you had to resist the urge to pull at it, and wring your hands together. why were you suddenly feeling so nervy? and why were you feeling so warm? you could feel him watching you. scrutinizing you. at least that’s what it felt like, but when you finally faced him, his expression was soft. soft? no. yes. soft. but also– he smiled then. that stupid smile you’d longed to wipe off his face on multiple occasions. your stomach twisted.

“i don’t know. hopefully something boring enough that you’ll fall asleep,” he said. that made you laugh. just a little bit. his smile widened. “now come. properly this time.” you looked at him. and then you looked at him some more. eyes narrowing ever so slightly. come? come where? with a shake of his head he sighed. “you really are a handful, aren’t you? if you sit like that, you’re going to fall on the floor when you fall asleep. now come here. stop looking like that. it doesn’t have to mean anything, just come. rest.”

and that was how you found yourself nestled against his chest on your couch, some shitty movie playing on the tv. at first you’d laid there, tense and rigid against him. as time passed, your body gradually relaxed, your hand settled against his chest as every breath he drew lulled you into a sense of security. you secure, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out how you managed to feel like that, in the arms of none other than miya atsumu. especially not with the persistent ache in your abdomen. the pain had risen and you knew that by now, trying to rise would make you double over before you’d manage to straighten out entirely. so you stayed curled up between atsumus thighs, trying your best to ignore the pain, the sensation of his arms around you, the rise and fall of his chest. just focussing on the movie. just the movie. that’s all you needed to focus on. you pulled up your legs further and tried to do just that. you hadn’t paid attention so far really, but when you did, you saw the male lead of the movie, backing the love interest up against a door, her wrists in his hands. oh. now they were kissing. okay. his thigh moved between her legs. okay. okay, since when did it become this kind of movie? atsumus breath tickled into your hair, and you looked up at him. he didn’t look back. his eyes were trained on the screen, but his hands around your waist twitched against your skin. your skin? you looked down, noticing your shirt had ridden up just a little bit. you adjusted in his embrace, thighs pressed together as heat engulfed you whole. okay. that’s awkward. you looked at the screen again. that’s really awkward. the male leads hands were roaming and you wanted to look away, but you didn’t know where to look–

“are you nervous?” atsumu asked, and when you looked up again, this time he looked back at you. there was a soft smile on his lips and concern in his eyes. “you’re very fidgety.”

“what? no. it’s just—“ you didn’t know why you told him. maybe you were just that tired. maybe it was the concern written across his face. or maybe it was just the way he’d made you feel safe and relaxed while you’d been snuggled against him. well, whatever it was, you swallowed, looked away and confessed “i’m ovulating. it’s driving me insane.”

“you—“ atsumu started. then he stopped. there was a brief silence in which you refused to meet his gaze. embarrassment might just swallow you whole when you heard him swallow thickly. at least you kind of wished it would. but that’s when he surprised you, more than you had thought possible. he placed a hand against your cheek and turned your face, meeting his case in earnest. “maybe i could—” he swallowed again, eyes more intense than you’ve ever seen before. “i could help you with that. if you want.”

“what’re you suggesting?” you asked, surprising yourself just as much by not outright turning him down. this was exactly why you didn’t think it’d be a good idea to have atsumu in your house when you were ovulating. because you might agree to something you normally wouldn’t. because you feared you wouldn’t be able to squash the pull you felt towards him. not that you’d actually admit to feeling it in the first place.

“do you trust me?” he asked, hands around you sitting still. he held you softly, as if he was refusing to let himself do anything before you agreed. as if he was ready to let go at any moment if you refused. arms looped gingerly around you, but not quite holding you. not quite. but you wanted him to. for some reason, you actually really wanted him to. so, what, maybe you just let ignore the consequences for tonight. maybe you just say to hell with it and give in. so what if it was all a lie. at least it was a sweet one of the kind, and at least– at least you got something out of it too.

“i— think so,” you said, surprising even yourself with your words when you really did just let yourself go.

“then let me help,” he said, and lifted one hand to let his fingertips graze lightly over the side of your neck. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.” his fingers traveled down. slow. tentative. almost hesitant. as if he expected you to push him away. and not long ago, you would’ve. not long ago, you wouldn’t have let him get this close to you in the first place. let him put his arms around you. not long ago, you probably wouldn’t even have let him into your apartment, if you were being honest. goose flesh rose across your skin as his fingers neared your abdomen. then stilled. he was offering you the chance to back out. expecting you to. but you didn’t.

“keep going. you said you’d help, didn’t you?” you asked him, encouraging him to go on. to hurry up and give you what your body so clearly craved. “let me stay in the fantasy for a little while,” you added, before you were able to stop yourself. right then, you really did want to believe that this was all real. just for a little while, even if it really didn’t mean anything to him.

“fantasy? what do you mean?” atsumu asked, fingers giving pause once more on their venture beneath the waistband of your pyjama shorts. 

“stop talking. just– help me,” you said, hating how pathetic you sounded to yourself. for another moment, he didn’t move. for one retched moment, you feared he was going to pull back and you hated that thought even more. but then he moved. his other hand forced you to look back up at him, the other kept in place.

“you want to pretend. is that it?” he asked. his eyes flared but you saw no anger. no lies. “okay. you can pretend all you want. what do you want me to do? want me to kiss you like i’m madly in love with you?” there was something wicked in his face then. something– lost. no. that couldn’t be it. whatever it was, you didn’t want to see it ever again. what you did want was his lips on yours. his words having sparked something you didn’t expect.

“yes,” you told him. and so he did. he pressed his lips against yours and he kissed you so intently that you almost thought he really was in love with you. his lips ever so tender. soft. lingering between every swipe against yours as you moved him perfect symphony. when he broke the kiss, his eyes stayed close just that one moment longer, like in pure bliss.

“let me help you,” he said, as if you hadn’t already granted him permission. his lips graced yours once more. feather light, there and then gone. with your eyes closed, you felt his breath fanning against your lips still. the mere whisper of distance the only thing separating you.

“how’re we supposed so go back to what we were after this?” you asked against his lips, feeling the pull between you until even that last breath of distance was but a memory. “we were hardly even friends–”

“don’t you dare say that to me,” atsumu drew back. almost startled. when you looked at him, the look in his eyes was hard. somehow also vulnerable. you didn’t quite understand. “not after everything i’ve gone through.” you didn’t quite understand what that was supposed to mean. what he’d been through? the two of you had been through the exact same thing getting here after all. although you had to admit, something inside of you also pained. and it wasn’t just the dull ache of your ovaries or the lower back pain caused by your body ovulating. it wasn’t that, yet you couldn’t quite place it either.

“atsumu,” you said, studying his features. your body wanted nothing more than for you to close the gap once more. for him to bury his fingers inside you as you did. he always did have nice fingers. you shook your head. you should probably withdraw before you pushed past the point of no return. before it would truly be too late for you to go back to what you were. that’s what you should be doing. what you should be wanting. but for some reason, it wasn’t. “there is no way–”

“are you actually serious right now?” the wild look in atsumu’s eyes caught you off guard, when he pushed up to a sitting position, effectively putting more distance between you as you had to sit back in order not the fall. he sighed. rubbed a hand over his face before fixing you with another stare. he took a breath. then another. then he seemed to make up his mind. “i have literally had a crush on you for as long as i can even remember. you cannot seriously be telling me that you didn’t know.”

“me? a crush on me?” your brows furrowed as you stared back at him. now you were just starting to feel pathetic. you couldn’t believe you actually wanted to believe him. that you actually almost did. that you wanted it to be true. “you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“i am not lying!” he ground the words out, and for one moment you entirely forgot how to breathe. you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. before you could. “jesus. okay. you want truth? then listen to me!”

“‘tsumu–” 

“no. stop talking,” he said, once more cutting you off. at any other situation, you would have been severely annoyed with him at the amount of times he’d cut you off by now. but this wasn’t any other situation. right now, his hair was a mess, his face looked like it was burning, he cupped your cheeks between his palms, and his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed “the truth is, that i am so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. do you really think i’d go around doing something like this for someone i didn’t feel anything for? do i really seem like that kind of asshole to you?” while he spoke, the hardness in his eyes shifted. turned to hurt in the silence that followed. his words were ringing in your ears, your mouth going dry.

“what?”

“nevermind.” atsumu’s hands fell away as he turned his head, suddenly unable to look at you. he cleared his throat and rose from the couch. “i understand if you changed your mind. i can leave–” your hand clasped around his wrist. you didn’t think. didn’t even realize that you’d moved. you only knew that you didn’t want him to leave. especially not like this. he didn’t look at you, but he stopped. you wanted him to look at you. just you.

“show me?” you asked. he moved. as if he was going to turn, but he didn’t. you saw the muscle in his jaw tick. 

“excuse me?” his words didn’t sound right. he sounded hurt. really hurt. had you really made him feel this hurt, that he couldn’t even face you? the pain inside you gnawed. shit. 

“i– your feelings,” you said. you didn’t know what you could say to make him hurt any less. but whatever you could do, you wanted to do it. maybe this attempt had been the wrong choice. you couldn’t tell what we going on in his head, but you wanted to make that pain vanish from his voice. you wanted him to sound like your atsumu again. “i’m sorry, i– atsumu, look at me.”

“what about my feelings? doesn’t matter it’s all a lie, does it?”

“atsumu, please.” he sighed, silent for a moment. then he obliged. tears rimmed his eyes when he met yours and there was a furrow between his brows.

“what?”

“i– don’t think you’re lying,” you said, surprised to find that you meant it. he looked at you, dazed as he held back those unshed tears. 

“i’m not,” he said. his voice was still thick. it was still not quite his. but when his jaw worked and he cleared his throat once more, you knew. you knew that he meant it and you knew. knew why you’d wanted it to be true. why you wanted him to stop hurting. why you didn’t actually want to go back to what you were before all this. you liked him. you liked that dickhead. well shit.

“i know.” you looked up at him in earnest, hoping he’d read the realization you weren’t yet ready to speak out loud. “i believe you. i’m sorry. stay?” the last word were spoken softly, more a question than anything, asking him not to go. 

“okay,” he agreed. then he looked away again, only throwing a half hidden glace your way as he spoke. “i can– if you need to uh– take care of uh– that– i can stay here while– you know–” you almost laughed out loud as you watched him struggle to find the words. was he seriously suggesting you go masturbate, right after he’d basically confessed to you?

“maybe you could help me?” you asked, once again fighting the laughter bubbling it way up your throat at the speed of which he whipped around to look at you. the way his eyes grew wide as he took you in. then you mustered up all the courage you had in you, maybe even emboldened by all of your body’s signals that now what the time of times for getting absolutely ravished. maybe. just a smidge. whatever it was, you cocked your head to the side and smiled. “show me. your feelings i mean. and maybe i could show you mine?”

“do you– are you sure?” atsumu asked, taking you in as he stood there before you. 

“absolutely.”

“i’m not going to do anything you don’t want,” he said and closed his eyes for a moment. “i already said i wouldn’t.” the sigh that left you was heavy with frustration. how on earth did you even like this guy?

“atsumu, sometimes you can really be so thick. now help me. please.”

“really?”

“yes! take me to bed,” you said, pulling at his hand to rise from the couch.

“oh. okay. careful!” when the pain in the abdomen made you double over, he caught you in the process. you weren’t quite sure how it happened, but one moment you were about to flop back down onto the couch, the next you were in atsumu’s arms as he carried you bridal style through the living room.

up close, the scent lingering on his skin was stronger. you’d already smelled it when you’d rested against his chest on the couch, but somehow this was just more. maybe it was the knowledge that this wasn’t all just one big charade after all. either way, you liked it. you liked it a lot. and when you reached your bedroom, still floating in his embrace, you weren’t quite ready to be without it, almost making you beg him to just keep you in his arms like this. almost. instead you let him set you down gingerly, on top of your bed, before laying down beside you.

“were you in pain?” he asked, gaze grazing your features as he hovered, propped up on one elbow. “before, i mean. you almost fell over.” atsumu brushed a stray hair from where it fell across your face. you’d never seen him like this, and it made your cheeks heat up under his touch, more than the ovulation already did. you couldn’t help but wonder what had him acting so softly. of course, those feelings he’d just admitted to having, might have some say. but he’d had those for a while, so why now of all times? you couldn’t help but wonder if he was nervous. if he was as nervous as you felt as well.

“i was. i am. it hurts.”

“where?” he asked. “maybe it’d be best if we didn’t–”

“my ovaries,” you said, cutting him off before he could spew any more nonsense. at least it was nonsense in your ears, because while ovulating did hurt for you, it also made you crave touch so incredibly much. it made your skin feel warmer. tingly. it made you wet simply by existing. and he had the audacity to even suggest stopping before either of you really started? “you said you’d help me, didn’t you? so help me. touch me,” you said, looking up at him and catching his eye. 

“can i kiss you again?” it was kind of cute seeing him this meek. you hadn’t realized it was something you’d be interested in, but here you were, thighs pressed together as you looked at him. it was as if he’d been transformed. where’d that cocky confidence gone?  well. maybe it was your turn to take the lead. and so you did. instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to you, almost toppling him over in the progress.

lips pressed together. the heat of your bodies crowding the space on top of your bed. your tongue gently prying his lips apart. the heavy breath he released as he let you in. with his free hand, his fingers set out on that same trailed they’d been on their way to follow earlier. your skin tingled under his touch as he mapped out every inch of your skin as his fingers traveled south. it tingled as he reached the hem of your shirt. of your pyjama pants. you leaned up to kiss him harder. he was parting and you couldn’t stop the smile that found its way into your kiss. but then he drew back, breath labored as he opened his eyes and looked into yours. his fingers lingering there, in an effort to hold back and respect your wishes.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to that,” he said, resting his forehead against yours, keening as your fingers threaded into the hairs at the nape of his neck. cute. you smiled. a smile that promised no sweet nothings whispered in his ears. it promised something different, indeed.

“and i never thought i’d see the day where i’d get to wipe that smug expression off your face.” you couldn’t help the little chuckle that left you at your own words. you really didn’t think you’d see the day. and yet here you were. and what more, his cheeks were clearly heating up and you could tell he was about to bite back. that’s how he was. how the two of you were with each other. and it would seem that you actually liked it.

“well i–”

“atsumu.” his name fell over your lips in a honeyed tone. it was kind of magical how his pupils widened at the sound of your name, so sweet in the intimate embrace of your silent bedroom. it stopped his objections and retaliations before most of them made it even halfway to his lips. you’d have to remember that, you told yourself. maybe you could use it to your advantage in the future. the way his very name affected him so. in the future. because right now, what you really wanted was for him to hurry the fuck up and do what he said he would. and so you told him. “yes. touch me. please.”

and so his fingers dipped further below the waistline of your pajama shorts, underneath your panties. the sharp inhale of breath filling the air when his lips met yours once more. when the pads of his fingers met the slick leaking between your thighs. the intake of breath that mixed with your own little sigh. you’d waited for this for way too long now. you’d wanted it. you angled yourself on the mattress to give him better access. the heavy ghost of his breath fanned across your skin as he kissed you harder. and you kissed him back just as hard. you needed him. a thought you’d never thought you’d have. yet here you were and you wanted him, desired him, needed him. desperately. instinctively.

atsumu’s fingers slipped easily through your folds. the wetness that’d accumulated while he’d been there only making it easier for him to give you what you wanted. deft fingers swiping at your clit, making your eyes screw shut. you leaned up into him, a hand fisting in his shirt to pull him even closer. close enough that he pressed against your side, and the hot swirl in your stomach was all but burning when you felt his hard cock pressed against your side. you wanted to touch it. wrap your hand around it. wrap yourself–

a moan escaped you when atsumu’s fingers pressed against your hole, pushing inside your soft warm cunt. was it warm in your room? it definitely felt warm. almost scalding as you involuntarily bucked into his touch. your skin felt like it might actually catch fire. the way his fingers reached deep within you. the way he paid attention to every little keen and mewl that left your lips. how he adjusted. your hand fisted in the sheets when atsumu’s breath ghosted across the shell of your ear when he leaned in. teeth grazing the delicate skin.

“can i take these off?” atsumu’s fingers slipped from your warmth, instead toying with the hem of your shorts. you’d almost whined at the loss of contact, but his words made you shutter against him. you nodded.

“mhm,” you hummed, not trusting your own voice entirely to speak the word. thankfully, atsumu understood. thankfully, he didn’t ask for further approval before shifted to pull down your shorts. the stunned sound that reveborated at the back of his throat when he laid his eyes on your bare skin. on your exposed, wet cunt. glancing down, you noticed just in time, how his cock twitched under his sweats. he didn’t seem to pay it any mind though. instead he was fully focussed on you. it was intoxicating really, the way he watched you. the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. lips you couldn’t help but want to kiss. so you did. you reached up to grab him by the neck and pulled him to you. his arms caged you in as you pressed your lips to his. as you moved together with fervor. with such an eagerness and hunger that sent your heart racing. 

once more, atsumu’s fingers found your core. you spread your legs for him further, when he pushed back in. letting your head fall back at the sensation, atsumu kissed your jaw. once. twice. then the side of your neck, tongue darting out to play across your skin as you adjusted to give him better access to your skin as well. it felt good. so good. when his fingers moved inside you, curling to find that one spot inside that made you moan a little louder.

once again settling on his side, atsumu pulled you tight to his body. your back now pressed against his front. his breath fanning across your neck as he let his mouth explore your skin. his firm chest against your shoulder blades. the hard planes of his stomach as your lower back slotted against him. oh god, and his cock pressed up against your ass, twitching where it was trapped between your bodies.

“how does it feel?” atsumu murmured against your skin. the sound of his voice making you buck, drawing a harsh hiss through his teeth. but he didn’t acknowledge it. instead he let his thumb swipe over your clit, while reaching deep inside. it felt good. it felt so good. but you didn’t know how to say the words. you didn’t think your voice would actually obey you if you tried. “feel good?” he asked, this time providing you with an easy way out.

“yeah,” you said, your voice coming out more like a breath than an actual word as you nodded.

“good,” he said, taking the lobe of your ear into his mouth, teeth nibbling softly as he gave it a little suck.

good, indeed. it was good. really good. you couldn’t imagine it even feeling this good, with your own fingers pushed inside your pussy. it wasn’t that you didn’t know what you were doing, or what you liked. but this. this was entirely different. the amount of attention he paid to you. the care with with he handled you, even as he picked up his pace, led along by the way your breathing hitched at his touch. his entire presence at your back. even more so, the soothing of that ache you’d felt all night. it was overwhelming, but it was so good. so good, it had your skin tingling and your legs tensing. his hips bucking when you pushed against him, making his cock grind against you. shit. 

“shit,” he cursed, taking your cheek in his free hand to turn your face towards him. your lips towards him. he didn’t have to tell you twice. actually, he didn’t even have to tell you once, because you instinctively pounced, capturing his lips with yours in a searing, bruising kiss. one sharp intake of breath later and he kissed you back, hard. his hips ground into yours, as if he couldn’t quite help himself as he curled his fingers, and circled your clit. when he coaxed your lips apart, you moaned into his mouth. it was wet, it was messy, it was so good. his tongue swiped inside and your legs tensed even harder as your eye screwed shut.

pleasure washed over you in waves, your walls clamping down around his fingers as you finally released. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. his hands didn’t move. he kept working his fingers inside your cunt. kept kissing you just like that. kept holding you until you finally relaxed against the sheets. against him. that’s when he smiled down at you. an uncharacteristically soft smile that made you feel so safe.

pulling his fingers from your warmth, atsumu moved back, creating distance between the two of you, that safe little bubble threatening to burst. before you even had the mind to think it though, you grabbed his arm and looked him.

“don’t go,” you said. and the way his expression melted at your words.

“i won’t,” atsumu said. your atsumu. because he’d always been your atsumu, hadn’t he? you’d never expected to see the day where you’d utter those words, even inside your own mind. but where you were, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. your atsumu. who did all this for you, without getting anything out of it himself.

“atsumu,” you mumbled, still feeling sluggish as you turned a little in the sheets, hands reaching for him, intention very clear.

“you don’t have to do that,” atsumu said, pushing your hand firmly off of him. as if he hadn’t just brought you cum on his fingers. as if his cock wasn’t straining, trapped inside his sweats. as if it hadn't been pressed against you this entire time, making you yearn to touch it.

“of course i–”

“princess,” he said, cutting you off, still keeping your hand at bay with his own. “you can hardly keep your eyes open. get some rest. i’ll take care of it,” he said, the insistence clear in his voice, as he scooted back and pulling the blanket over you.

“but–”

“sleep,” he interrupted once more, now pulling your blanketed frame to his chest. and he was right, you could barely keep your eyes open. as you drifted off, you felt him kissing the top of your head gingerly. and then, just as unconsciousness took over, you felt him pulling away. “i’ll be right back. promise.”

and just like atsumu’s earlier confession, you knew that he didn’t lie to you this time either.