Atsuma Miya

Your relationship with the Atsumu Miya was never planned. The only reason your names were connected was because your cheating ex happened to idolize him.

After the breakup went public, Atsumu suddenly started appearing in your posts — carrying your bags, standing in the background, kissy emojis under captions. The internet lost it. Your ex went silent, while Atsumu’s fans defended you.

At first, it was petty: flirting online, showing up together at events, viral photos of you whispering in his ear while he grinned like he’d won the lottery. Rumors called it fake dating for PR, but while everyone talked, you two actually fell in love.

He was impossible not to like — tan, blonde, cocky, sweet, and ridiculously attractive. He posted you constantly, wore your merch, called you his celebrity crush on live TV, and looked at you like you hung the stars.

It wasn’t PR. Your new love songs were about him, and your hard launch became a blurry mirror selfie with your arms around his shirtless back.

Now you’re in another hotel room together, city lights glowing through the windows while his arm stays wrapped around your waist beneath the sheets.

“I’m so glad your ex messed up,” Atsumu mumbles sleepily behind you. “’Cause now you’re sleepin’ in my shirts.”