Atsumu Drabble - Blog Posts

ding!

. . . miya atsumu. winning in carnival games and in love.

if anything, atsumu was fairly lucky when it came to carnival games.

games based on chance and pure luck are the ones he hates with every fiber of his being because miya atsumu was not that lucky when it came to winning said games. he’d rather take his chance on winning things that use strength, mobility, reflexes, and coordination. after all, those were his strengths, and in life, there’s a saying to play to your strengths.

just like what he is doing right now.

“hol’ on, ‘m goin’ to try and win that plushie. why? ‘cuz it reminds me of ya! why else?”

he had told you earlier, but what you didn’t expect was him almost clearing out the stands of their prizes because of how good he was at it. from catching magnetic sticks that dropped to test out one’s reflexes to him having to hold onto a bar for a certain amount of time, you best believe that he put those hours he spent at the gym for volleyball training to good use.

“go, tsumu!”

and really, your cheers that mirrored when he scored a point in his volleyball match fueled his determination to win.

he smiles in your direction, then looks back at the board with balloons taped onto it. atsumu takes a deep breath, then throws the darts he was given at the boards, making it look too easy to simply hit the targets. the small crowd that gathered around the booth cheered him as well, which fed your boyfriend’s ego well and would last him a week’s worth of oozing charm.

“where to next?” he asks, carrying paper bags upon paper bags filled with stuffed toys.

there were plenty more prizes that you two left by the security guards’ storage room near the entrance, which you would pick up on your way out so you wouldn’t have to carry lots of baggage.

“i think we should take it easy on winning these prizes, ‘tsumu,” you told him softly, motioning toward the bags he carried. “where are we even going to put all of these? we can keep some of them, but not all of them, y’know?”

atsumu nods, thinking to himself. as you two wandered from booth to booth, your attention turned to a child who was whispering to her mother about the plushies atsumu held. without much hesitance on your part, you dragged your boyfriend toward the child and her mother, offering to give her a stuffed animal.

“f– for me?” she asks quietly, looking at you as you crouched to level with her.

“of course! you see that prince beside me holding the paper bags? he won these plushies because he’s so strong!” you answered. “he’s glad to give these away to princesses like you.” you glanced at her dress, seeing that she wore something similar to a princess gown. “isn’t that right, ‘tsumu?”

“oh— yeah, totally,” he agreed with a slight blush on his cheeks. the gears in his head are still trying to process your compliments.

“wah, thank you!” she said to the both of you, and not too long after, she and her mother bid goodbyes.

you sighed, linking your arm with atsumu’s as you watched the little girl happily hug her stuffed animal.

“should we give the rest of those away?”

“i’m down with whatever ya want to do with ‘em,” he tells you. “i did win ‘em for you, after all ‘cuz i’m very strong, right?”

“oh, you,” you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your walk to give away a few of the prizes he had won. “wait, you have something in your hair; hold on.” you got the fallen leaf that fell on his hair, smiling. “there we go.”

atsumu blinked at you, then grinned cheekily. “yer goin’ to make this strong prince fall in love with ya even more.”

“hm, what if that’s my plan all along?” you chuckle, tugging at him once more. “let’s go, we still have a lot of prizes to give away.”

he may not be lucky when it comes to claw machines, chance and luck-based games, and whatnot, but it doesn’t matter to him that much now when he’s winning in most carnival games and especially in love.

note. @miaumooo, for you! i combined two of the prompt entries you sent in.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

Atsumu’s irritated.

The kind of irritated that makes him look like he's constantly smelling something foul.

Osamu snickers. “Yer face is gonna stay like that ya scrub.”

“Shaddup.” He grabs his bento and stomps away from the usual lunch spot, away from his friends,

Away from his dumb brother.

He's not even sure he's hungry anymore he's so irritated, and that makes him even more irritated. He knows exactly why he's irritated, too, not that it helps.

It's all because some doe-eyed simp batted her fake eyelashes at 'Samu this morning and asked him to be the subject of a portrait assignment.

Geez, Atsumu was right there!

And then, after the stupid scrub says yes and that frilly little turd skips away, 'Samu turns to him and says

‘Guess that settles it. I've got the better face.’

He’s charging around the school, not sure he's looking for any place in particular…it's just a way to burn through some frustration.

“Whoa, who boiled your bean curd today.”

He stops and whips around ready to bite the head off—

You.

Atsumu gulps; he recognizes you from class but doesn't actually know your name and the last thing he wants to do is berate some innocent and be hung out to dry by Kita because this whole school’s a cesspool of gossip—

“Seriously, Atsumu. You okay?”

He blinks, still grumpy but nods. “Just mah stupid brother.”

“You…wanna talk about it?” you offer unsurely and gesture to the spot on the bench next to you.

“Really?” When you nod reassuringly, he screws up his face. “Why? Ya just tryin’a use me ta get ta someone else on the team?”

“What? No.” You look disgusted and…a little disappointed. “Do people really do that to you?”

Atsumu shrugs, stiffly sitting down with you. “I dunno. Just seems like everyone prefers my brother.”

“All the time? Or did something specific happen?”

Atsumu admits “kinda both.” He tells you how his brother loves to get under his skin and then their friends get it on it, too.

He tells you about the incident this morning.

“You're upset because she asked your brother over you?” When he nods you think for a moment, then offer “I’ll draw you.”

“Ha?!” he gapes.

You nod nonchalantly. “Yeah, I'm in that class...I have that portrait assignment, too."

“And ya don’t have someone yer already drawin’?”

“No.” You lament “I've been dreading it. The last thing I want to do is go up to someone and ask ‘hey can I draw you?’." You cringe. "Gross.”

“What about yer friends er somethin’?”

You give him a flat smirk. “do you want someone to draw you or not?”

He splutters “hu-gchw-we-well yeah but only if ya want ta!” He pouts and crosses his arms. “I don’t want yer pity.” His petulance cracks as you laugh.

For the first time in a long time someone's laughing because of him... Not at him.

“I promise it’s not like that, Atsumu." You smile so genuinely his irritation dissolves. "Really, you're doing me a huge favor."

"Really?" He likes the look of relief in your eyes when you nod, that he was the one who made that happen.

Three weeks later the portraits are put on display. Atsumu's excited to see your final piece. You haven't shown him yet but he had so much fun hanging out with you; he's never felt so seen or appreciated, been so relaxed or so autonomously at ease,

Until his brother makes a comment.

"I dunno, I think ya made it all up." 'Samu smirks. "There's only one Miya among those portraits and it's the better looking twin."

You're not in class today; not answering his texts so he goes to look on his own and sure enough,

His face isn't there.

Where the fuck is the picture you drew?!

He's more than irritated now...

His mood is downright foul.

He avoids interacting with anyone and everyone until he can get to practice and then his irritation doesn't dissipate on the court and it's just building and building turning into error after error--

"Atsumu, someone's here to see you."

He doesn't dare snap at his captain, simply turns and freezes when he sees you at the side of the court.

His anger fades to a grumpy simmer.

"I got your texts," you say with a smile and light flush to your cheeks. "Sorry I didn't respond, I was busy."

"That why yer in such a pissy mood today, 'Tsumu?" Osamu comments from the bench but before Atsumu can react, you beat him to it.

"Excuse me, I'm talking to Atsumu right now."

Everyone stops and looks. Eyebrows raise, and more than a few jaws drop.

With an irritated exhale you turn back to Atsumu and clear your expression. "As I was saying... I'm sorry I didn't respond or tell you ahead of time...I wanted it to be a surprise."

Atsumu's throat is tight as you hand him something that's definitely not a drawing. "What's this?" he sourly mumbles.

Ignoring the snarky murmurs of his team you tap it and explain "it's a letter of acceptance for an art show."

He can hear the joy in your voice and when his gaze shifts up your smile rivals the sun.

"Your portrait is a centerpiece."

“atsumu, when i die —”

“no, stop, don’t say that. ‘ya aren’t going to die.” he interrupted you before you could even finish, his gaze burning.

“of course i won’t, i’m immortal!” you joked. and to this, he flashed a small smile.

“but, hypothetically, if i do die, i want you to make my coffin look cute. maybe LED lights? yeah, and —” you were cut off with your rambling by a kiss to your lips. the two of you savoring the fleeting moment, gripping onto his shirt as you felt yourself weaken from his touch.

“yes, angel, i’ll do that okay? now stop yappin’ about ‘ya dying. ‘ya aren’t goin’ to die. i — i won’t even let ‘ya.” he said with so much determination that you couldn’t help but believe him.

your eyes feel heavy. “‘tsumu?”

“hm?” he looks at you, shimmering eyes.

“i’m tired, i wanna go to sleep.”

“oh — okay, sure — i, i love ‘ya, goodnight. let’s talk again tomorrow, m’kay?” he asked, the hope in his voice felt quite cruel to even exist.

“of course, i love you.”

the beeping from the monitor went to a deafening halt. atsumu felt like he was suffocating, the air in his lungs evaporating. you — the air that filled his lungs, the air he breathes, ceased. the shimmer in his eyes turned into tears.

you two never really did get to properly talk again tomorrow, or the day after that, or ever again.

ding!

. . . inarizaki second-year trio. convince, convince.

“um.” rintarou clears his throat, taking a deep breath.

atsumu and osamu nod in his direction as they warily glance at your mother, who looked at them with a neutral expression on her face.

“good morning, mrs. l/n.” he says, his usual composed exterior coming back to him. “today, we have prepared a powerpoint to convince you to let y/n tag along on our outing tomorrow morning.”

the presentation changes to the following slide. “why you should agree to let your child join our simple outing: a powerpoint presentation made by suna rintarou, miya atsumu and miya osamu.”

your mother smiles quite a bit, and rintarou takes this as a sign from those who heard his silent pleas the night before.

“one. it would help build social connections, specifically memories with friends.” silly pictures of the twins bickering and even ones where you’re included in the background at school are what’s displayed.

“two. it helps with stress.” the next slide has a huge picture of atsumu’s face being absolutely red from eating an extra spicy dish that you and osamu dared him to eat. “according to a few studies, the company of friends would lighten one’s mood and overall performance throughout the day.” wow, they even had it cited properly—in the format of a true professional presentation.

“three. please, mrs. l/n. i can’t handle another outing with the twins; my brain cells are dropping at an alarming rate whenever i’m around them.” he sighs playfully, shaking his head. “fortunately, your child carries most of the brain cells our friend group has.”

the twins stare at rintarou with disbelief. atsumu was about to retort something when osamu held him back. they had to act on their best behavior to win your mother’s favor, after all.

one mistimed step, and she’ll surely refuse.

“four. we’ll be sure to have them home before the sun sets.”

“five. if anything happens, we’ll have atsumu to blame.”

that caught atsumu by surprise. “huh? why me?” he practically yells at rintarou, though he manages to keep his voice down.

“because it was your idea to actually wear formal suits just to deliver this presentation,” he replies.

“hey! it adds flare, don’t it?” atsumu reasons. “ya would’ve worn somethin’ else that doesn’t look professional at all, suna!”

osamu sighs to himself. “keep it down, you shits.” he quickly covers his mouth, realizing his language in front of your mother. “i– i am sorry for my language, mrs. l/n. i swear– ‘m not always like this, swear. i’m not a bad influence on your child, promise.” he tries to reassure her.

the other two looked at you and then at your mother; they were silent.

you, on the other hand, were holding in your laughter. you honestly didn’t expect osamu to use such language in front of your not-so-impressed mother.

she pinches the bridge of her nose, a small smile on her lips. “there’s no need to apologize. i can tell that you and your friends really are persistent to have y/n join you, even going as far as wearing these presentable suits in this hot weather.” atsumu nudges rintarou with a look that says ‘see? it helped!’ “creating a powerpoint presentation and bringing a projector in our home—” rintarou had an eager glint in his eyes as he listened, “made an honest attempt in showing your best behavior in front of your friend’s mother,” osamu smiles sheepishly.

“i’m delighted to know that you are y/n’s friends. what you showed me convinced me well enough.” the three, along with you, cheer as she says this.

“you may have y/n join you three whenever or wherever you want, as long as you tell me or their father beforehand.”

rintarou nods. “thank you, mrs. l/n. fuck, we actually did it. it’s like when we did our thesis defense.”

“rintarou!” you chuckled, and the twins happily thanked your mother.

the three could definitely say they had a knack for convincing and really put in the effort on rare ocassions, especially when it came to you.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

ding!

. . . miya atsumu. may the world never crumble beneath your feet.

“what’s wrong with ya?”

there’s an unusual silence that follows atsumu’s simple question.

“hey?” he says again, a bit concerned now that you didn’t answer the first time. “what’s wrong? somethin’ on yer mind?”

still, nothing from you.

“hey, y/n.” he tries again, hoping that you will answer this time around. “is somethin’ botherin’ ya? tell me an’ i might be able to help.”

“i don’t know, ‘tsumu.” you confess, and he notices the way your hands tremble as you speak. “i really, really don’t know.”

without another word from atsumu, he engulfs you in a warm embrace. his hold on you is soft—delicate even. it’s times like these that you remember that atsumu wasn’t just that volleyball player who likes to annoy you once you step inside the gym; he wasn’t just the twin of his brother, but he was also his own person, and that person was your friend.

someone you can depend on.

someone you can show your vulnerability to.

someone who’d be there for you for anything.

“yer not alone, y/n. ya always seem ta forget that, but ‘ll always be here to remind you of that.” he coaxes.

that was all it took to have you sobbing in his arms, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions that you had bottled up for who knows how long.

atsumu’s honest attempt to comfort you in the best way he could, the way he knows how. it was hard for him to even see you like this. he may seem like the type to not care for others feelings, but he does; he cares, especially for those who he loves.

“i’m scared.” you confess. “i’m scared of the future, ‘tsumu.”

he listens carefully as you speak your truth. “it’s ok ta be scared, y/n.” he replies as he holds you closer to him. “the uncertain’y of what the future has in store for us may be a bit intimidatin’, but we’ll always have each other, right?”

he says this with a smile. “and we’ll take baby steps, remember? that’s what ya always told me,” he says this happily. “baby steps, an’ we’ll eventually get there.”

you quiet down a bit upon hearing atsumu’s reassuring words. you never pegged him as the type to be able to pull off such a thing, and yet you were internally grateful to be here right now, in his arms, as your sobs soon turned into soft, quiet sniffles.

as atsumu holds you in his arms, he hums a soft tune, noticing that you were calming down. he hopes and prays to the gods out there that may the world never crumble beneath your feet.

but when it does, atsumu will always be by your side.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.