Atsumu Miya Fluff - Blog Posts

Emmy let me hear your thoughts on this

All the inarizaki fellas are the types where if they accidentally “hurt” you(by which I mean literally manage to mildly bump you with an elbow) they’re all the types to be like “IVE ASSAULTED MY POOKIE I DESERVE TO DIE HOW CAN I EVER MOVE ON” am I right or am I right

DUFCBWNFJID THEY SO ARE OH MY GOD-

atsumu takes it the absolute hardest, literally the second you go "oh" (not even OW ATSUMU ITS OKAY-) he is whipping his head at you, eyes blown wide with remorse and watery as if he's genuinely injured you. he takes you in his big arms and rocks you back and forth, kissing your head and whispering apologies to you while you just cock your head and furrow your brows because you're literally fine.

on the other end of the spectrum, we have sunarin; and lets just say sunarin snickers at you when you trip in public. HOWEVER AND BUT, when it comes to anything with him potentially having any harm put towards you, he gets a few grey hairs and years off his expectancy. like one time, he suplexed you onto the couch, and he heard you hiss, and the entire mood changed. he immediately got onto his knees and cupped your face and was so sweet on you for the rest of the night bc he felt bad :(((( only to then, the next day, absolutely manhandle you out of his way while you're doing your skincare routine at the sink bc he needs to piss LMAOOOOOOO

˚✶ * first date w/ atsumu

m.list / wc: 770

    he shoves his hand into his back pocket, fishing for his keys. they clang together as he pulls them out. reaching up to the door's handle, it struggles to properly get into the keyhole. "sorry, this thing is always fidgety," atsumu looks back at you, a goofy smile gracing his lips, hair flopping to the side.

  "mine's probably worst," shrugging your shoulders, you lean against the narrow hallway's wall, attempting a reassuring smile.

  the apartment building looks unassuming from the outside. old bricks are covered in moss and vining plants, the landscaping needing some attention for the spring season. however, the inside was beautiful. old trinkets fill the main floor, welcoming and nostalgic. as you walk down his floor's hallways, you can see the care given to the interior.

  the wood floor is miraculously clean, the walls a simple beige, yet still spotless. "your apartment building is lovely," you comment, watching as he finally turns the key, unlocking the door.

  "thank you, if it wasn't i would've felt even worse for dragging you in here," he says as he pushes open the door, pushing a pair of shoes aside that he accidentally left in the way.

  biting your lip, you begin to expect the worst. a pair of socks draped across the countertops, food left on the coffee table with a can of some kind of soda. and yet he surprises you again, leading you into a clean and fresh living room. decor is placed seamlessly, serious thought put into every piece of furniture he has. 

  looking back at you, he reaches his hand up to scratch the back his neck, clearly feeling nervous. "bathroom is right there, i think my wallet's in my bedroom, so it might be a second.. just uh make yourself at home," atsumu purses his lips, turning on his heels to walk down the short corridor to his room.

  watching as he leaves, you hope that the tension will dissipate. he seems nice, respectful in his actions. and you know your friend wouldn't steer you wrong, but she also never told you much about him. other than his history with different sports, you opted to not look him up, give him a chance at a great first impression. 

  finally taking a moment to breath, you turn to look around his living room. his tv is propped up on an old fireplace, clearly not being used for the season. bookshelves sit off to the side, filled with many featuring volleyball themes. trinkets are filling any empty spaces within, a highlighted one being what looks like an old pair of running shoes. 

  biting the inside of your cheek, you start to wonder if this could err on the side of snooping. nearly about to stop as you hear him close what sounds like the last drawer, you see a short wall filled with surfing posters. all framed, some featuring newspaper clipping. his name in bold letters draws your attention, "atsumu miya heading to the olympics". 

  it didn't take long for you to realize that by 'past experience with sports' was an understatement. leaning towards them, you read some of the body of the content. they preach his innovative surfing style, filled with techniques you had never heard of. "i'm sure you're curious about that," he walks into the room, wallet shoved in his front pocket.

  "oh- sorry, i didn't mean to snoop. i just saw this and kiyoko never mentioned you surfed," you look back at him, hands clasped behind your back, thumbs fidgeting.

  atsumu shrugs, looking up to the posters. "yeah, I really got into it between volleyball seasons, helped keep me prepped. haven't been back to the beach for a little bit now," you try not to pry too much, but you couldn't help but grow even more curious.

  "really? do you plan on going back someday?" you question, finally noticing how kind his eyes are.

  the skin crinkles beside his eyes as he smiles, clearly holding some passion for surfing still. his lips turn upwards, a brightness radiating off of him. "yeah, i'd like to. even if not professionally i'd love to go surfing again."

  "well maybe you can teach me then," you don’t quite realize what you’ve said, walking beside him as he starts walking towards the door.

  pausing for a second, you close your eyes, cursing yourself for even suggesting that. “sorry, i didn’t mean to insinuate anything,” you look over to him, catching up with his pace. 

  walking back with him towards his apartment's front door, he chuckles at your added comment. "no, it's alright, i like the idea of it."

gen taglist: @nnnyxie @sippn-the-tae @silkloom @megapteraurelia @dazqa @lale-txt @solzscribblez @bluemailhiot @hyunteru @kameyyy

˚✶ * apple bottom jeans w/ atsumu

m.list / wc: 375

    "oh- like the song?" someone asks from beside you, barely passing through the thick noise of your headphones and the shuffling of feet down your university campus' hallways. 

  furrowing your eyebrows, you turn around to see who was speaking. standing there is atsumu miya, hand grappling at his backpack's strap. the other presses a volleyball against his side. his eyes widen as you look back at him, lips forming into a straight line, "sorry, i was thinking out loud. but it's your shorts, right? 'apple bottom jeans'."

  you had never spoken to atsumu miya before. never having been in the same groups or classes before. his reputation solely connected with his volleyball career and 'attempt' at being a physical therapy student (mentions of multiple relationships seem to come up too). biting your lip, it takes you a moment to remember what shorts you were wearing. the small apple patch on the back pocket nearly erased from your memory.

  "oh, no it has nothing to do with the song," pursing your lips, you look back to your phone, waiting impatiently for your friend to text you back.

  he says something, you can tell it's him despite the loud music playing through your headphones, the way his inflection just seems to worm its way into your ears. looking back at him, you raise an eyebrow. "what'd you say?" you pull one of your earbuds out, eyes wide.

  "just that it looks really cool... matches your shoes and everything," atsumu shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed into his pockets. he has a sullen look on his face, like he's not saying everything he wants to say, or he just can't get it to sound exactly like he wanted.

  nodding your head, you give him a short smile. "thanks, your volleyball has a neat design, you just carry it around everywhere you go?" you question, not quite meaning to continue any lengthy conversation with him, especially knowing his reputation. 

  the corners of his lips turn upwards, hands fiddling with the unique patterned ball. "no, but if it inspires you to have a conversation with me, then maybe i should," as soon as the sentence passes through your ears, you realize why he has such a reputation. he's just too much of a charmer.