my sweet atsumu who has the image of a player, of a total himbo whore to most of japan; especially when he moves straight from high school to playing professional volleyball

atsumu who gets constant migraines because of how much this bothers him; every morning, opening his phone to his pr manager, sending him a new article with a headline about a potential love interest for him. he wishes he didn't have to hire the man, but that's what top athletes worldwide do. several answers of no and he gets ready for the day.

atsumu miya who has never been in a relationship with a girl. he never gave himself the chance to think about crushes or the dating scene. since his youth, he's been committed to studying and training; landing him the career he shines in now.

so when hinata convinces him to make a dating profile, and one day when he matches with you and continues a conversation with you (it's a bit hard if he's being honest), he decides to pull the trigger: "would you want to grab a bite to eat sometime this week?"

a day or two later, he wants to cancel. he's shaking the hour he woke up, getting hardly any sleep the night before even though he had an entire day of training before the dinner date the two of you had planned. pacing around the room, miscalculating sets to his spikers, he's a nervous mess because what grown man hasn't gone on a single date in his life yet? atsumu miya is who.

Me, reading my scraps of fics in my notes app: oh, that’s good, I really like that. Someone should finish that.

— Dio Brando, Attorney at Law ⚖️

guy with no sense of personal space

On the days that are extra taxing and you’re exhausted down to your bones, you always find yourself huddled up to your husband in the comfort of his lap. He sees the frown on your face and the weariness lining your eyes, and he smiles softly when you take your seat on his thighs.

“Long day?” he asks, and you hum, arms falling around his waist as your head finds home in the crook of his neck, muffling your quiet little mumble.

“The worst.”

Gently, he shifts so that you’re both more comfortable, one arm looping around your middle to hold you against him whilst his free hand threads through your hair. Tension melts from your muscles as he passes his fingers through the strands again and again, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

And that’s okay, he thinks, because you’re still finding comfort in him, still quietly leaning on him for support, so he presses a warm kiss to your forehead, silently telling you that he’ll always be here. He can feel your soft lashes tickling over his neck as your eyes flutter shut and your breathing slows. In the softest of whispers, so quiet you might’ve imagined the words he says next.

“Rest, my love, I’ve got you.”

sunaosa + sakuatsu vampire au 🌙☀️