#ajsjs the ending pls
grocery run with atsumu
your daughter is at uncle samu’s, busy with her cousins, so you grab this opportunity to have a spontaneous grocery date w your beloved
so you get dressed all nice, but still casual (a simple sundress with flats, maybe) and put on the locket atsumu bought you. you exit the room you share with him to get your nice sandals when you see him sitting on the sofa, his head leaning on the backrest.
he's—
he’s in a tank top and cargo shorts and socks with sandals. you can’t help but rake your eyes over him, the beige colour of the tank blending a little too well with the cargo shorts, making it seem like he’s wearing overalls with nothing underneath. the clothes are all clean, miya atsumu wouldn’t be caught dead in dirty clothes, but they’re so— so—
you struggle to find an adjective that fits.
atsumu must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he smirks up at you.
‘like what you see?’
no, you most definitely do not. no amount of bulging biceps or tanned skin or veins visible on his forearms can atone for this. when you ask him to at least change into pants, this man h u f f s at you. he says 'it’s alright, doll, it’s just a grocery run. what’re they gonna do, not let us buy the good quality toilet paper?’ and proceeds to snigger at his own joke before standing up and pulling you into him.
your hands come to rest on his chest, his arms winding around your waist as he leans down and brushes his nose against your ear, his breath making you shiver. 'but you’re looking awfully pretty in that dress, aren’t ya? gonna let me pull it off of you?’
his arms wander down to your ass as he whispers to you to jump, and you obey, how could you not? he secures you against his chest and pins you to the wall, his mouth already sucking a bruise just above the neckline of your dress.
you’lldefinitely have to change into something that covers the hickeys that are sure to blossom on your neck and collarbones. but that’s something to worry about later. for now, as he leads you into your room, your mouth slotted against his perfectly, his hips grinding into your core, eliciting whimpers and breathy moans from the both of you, all you think about is just how good it’ll feel to take those clothes off of your husband.
