hopelessness
— every thursday, atsumu spends two hours explaining to the internet why y/n is his soulmate while aggressively sobbing into a mic.
miya atsumu x f!reader | fluff
it’s 6am, i’m gonna sleep now. I LOVE ATSUMU
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the first time he hit record, miya atsumu swore he wasn’t gonna cry. he swore it on his setter’s hands, his twin brother’s dignity (which, let’s be real, didn’t count for much), and the entire kansai dialect dictionary. but then he said your name out loud—just your name—and his voice cracked like the surface of an overcooked crème brûlée.
“uh, hey guys,” he sniffled into the mic, “welcome t’ episode one of why y/n should marry me. it’s, uh, self-explanatory.”
the audio that followed was seventy-three minutes of incoherent rambling, seven minutes of crying, one minute of silence where he was clearly staring at your instagram profile, and finally—six minutes of atsumu whispering “she looked so good in that one hoodie, holy crap” like it was a religious confession.
the episode title? ep.1 – evidence that she’s the reason flowers bloom (and other undeniable truths).
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
you found out about it from suna.
he sent you the link with the caption: ur man’s lost it. again.
you clicked play because, well, curiosity. and maybe because you missed him—just a little.
and there he was. your favorite idiot. talking like the world spun because you existed.
“like, how’s she so perfect?” he said mid-episode, voice already wobbly. “like—i don’t get it. she chews her food so cute. y’know how some people chew? and you’re like, ew, stop? she’s not like that. she could eat gravel and i’d clap.”
you laughed out loud. actually laughed. which was dangerous, because laughing meant fondness, and fondness meant you were one i-need-him text away from ruin.
the comments were even worse.
@ hoeji: this is the healthiest parasocial relationship i’ve ever seen.
@ yourmom67: bro sounds like he’d fight god if god looked at her wrong.
@ y/nfanclubbyberto: does y/n know she’s in danger? like romantic danger?
dangerous, indeed.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
by episode three, he’d added background music—soft piano, like some lovesick documentary.
“today,” he sniffled (because yes, there were tears, again), “i’ll be discussin’ the way she texts. y/n uses emojis sparingly. that’s class. that’s taste. i send her six heart emojis, she replies with one smiley. restraint. mystery. allure. she’s like the mona lisa of texting, i swear.”
then he took a dramatic pause.
“also, i counted. she used the crying laughing emoji three times in one week. statistically speakin’, that’s true love.”
he was so serious about it you almost believed him.
“like, she’s out there bein’ an angel,” he continued, “and i’m here makin’ a podcast, cryin’ like i just got benched. but that’s love, ain’t it? that’s devotion. that’s pure, unfiltered, top-tier romance, the kinda stuff shakespeare couldn’t write ‘cause he never met her.”
the way he said your name after that made your heart ache in the softest, most ridiculous way.
and sure, the rational part of your brain whispered that maybe this was too much. but the louder part—the one that had seen atsumu try to fold laundry and cry because he “missed your smell”—that part just found it stupidly endearing.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
episode six was titled ‘i saw her once in the produce aisle and now i believe in fate.’
the intro music had gotten fancier. he’d added a jingle. suna’s voice could be heard in the background, clearly forced into co-hosting.
“bro,” suna said, deadpan, “you can’t keep talkin’ about her like she cured polio.”
“she could, though!” atsumu snapped, the sound of a fist hitting the table echoing through the mic. “if she wanted to, she could! she’s that amazin’!”
“okay,” suna muttered, “but last week you said she invented joy.”
“she did!”
there was a crash sound. possibly a thrown water bottle.
and you? you were sitting in your kitchen, clutching your phone, grinning like an absolute fool. because who talks about someone like that? who loves that loudly, that shamelessly?
atsumu, apparently. your atsumu. MY ATSUMU LAWDD
the boy who once asked if your hand “fit perfectly in his or if it was just destiny’s handiwork.”
the boy who recorded two-hour odes to your existence because he didn’t know how else to say he loved you.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
one night, you tuned in to a livestream episode.
“alright,” he said, voice shaky, “today’s special. i ain’t editin’ nothin’. this is raw, real, unfiltered heartache—uh, i mean love. same thing.”
he leaned too close to the mic—you could practically hear his heartbeat through the audio.
“y/n, if yer listenin’,” he said, “and i know ya are, ‘cause i can feel it in me bones—marry me. like, not even jokin’. i already asked ya once, but i’m askin’ again. on-air proposal, baby. i got nothin’ left to lose but my pride, and honestly? i lost that the moment i made episode two.”
then he sniffled. loudly.
“please. i’ll cook for ya every day. i’ll do the laundry without shrinkin’ yer sweaters. i’ll delete the podcast if it embarrasses ya—though i think it’s kinda art, personally.”
the chat went insane.
@ noniquedontmovetojjk: WE’RE WITNESSING HISTORY
@ dnballs: HE’S SO GONE IT’S TRAGIC
@ hoshiumicomehome: SAY YES, QUEEN
and you? you were crying. laughing, but crying. because how could someone so stupidly dramatic make your heart hurt so good?
you didn’t type in chat. you didn’t even text him. instead, you showed up at his door twenty minutes later—sweatpants, messy hair, heart beating like it was doing cardio for both of you.
he opened it mid-ramble, still talking into his mic.
“—and if she ever shows up here, i swear i’ll—oh.”
you. right there.
his jaw dropped. then his eyes went all glassy, like he couldn’t believe you were real.
“atsumu,” you said softly, “you gotta stop crying on podcasts.”
“i can’t help it,” he whispered, blinking fast. “yer just so—”
you didn’t let him finish. you kissed him, because really, what else was there to do?
he made a noise halfway between a sob and a squeal, dropped his headphones, and hugged you so tight you thought you might dissolve into him.
“does this mean yer sayin’ yes?” he mumbled against your shoulder.
“no,” you teased, smiling into his hair, “it means stop recording.”
he turned off the mic.
then kissed you again.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
a week later, a new episode dropped.
ep.10 – she kissed me (and i briefly ascended)
“guys,” atsumu said, voice still wobbly, “it happened. she did it. she kissed me. i blacked out for a sec, but i’m back.”
he sniffled. again.
“this might be the last episode,” he said, “’cause she told me t’ stop recordin’... but i just wanted y’all t’ know—she’s everythin’. like, if love was a person, it’d be her. if happiness had a face, it’d be hers. if destiny had a sense of humor, it’d make her fall for me.”
a pause. a shaky laugh.
“i think it did.”
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the final thirty seconds were just him whispering:
“i’ll love her so good, y’all. like, embarrassingly good. the kinda love poets die tryin’ to describe. the kinda love that makes me cry over her favorite hoodie. y/n, if yer listenin’—and i know ya are—thanks for makin’ my life the best kind of ridiculous.”
he sniffled. wiped his nose.
“alright, podcast over. gonna go make her breakfast or somethin’. bye, internet. wish me luck—no, actually, don’t. i already got it.”
click.
silence.
somewhere in the world, a boy who cried every week into a mic was finally happy.
and somewhere else, a girl who used to roll her eyes at his dramatics was smiling like she’d just married her favorite mistake.
and maybe, just maybe—
no. definitely.
they were disgustingly, deliriously, ridiculously in love.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
a: been so tired, i tried using an ai to quickly search for recent citations so i could just double check them since i haven’t had 5 hours of sleep in the past three days. it flirted with me, so now i’m just writing fanfics.
<taglist>
@cvntyandfasionable @the-bloopsters @nelinkythoughts @kukikoooo @briestrom94 @averys-place @sxnnee @anzuuhoshi @evilari111 @tetsurae @asyaacia @rabbitcola @yeonette @forgottensniper @katzline @michexoxo @pelicanpizza @han0vyc @meikstv @babybird-meena @depressinglyobsessed @keiob @ghostwifeyy @bigdaddyyaoii @mptality @qardasngan @crystal-lilac @methiart
© showhay — don’t copy nor translate without my permission. i do not own any of the photos that i have used. credits to all the rightful owners. (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
iloveu
