Atsumu Fic - Blog Posts

partition | miya atsumu

pairing: atsumu x f! reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: inspired by Beyoncé’s “Partition”! what starts off as a simple limo ride to a team dinner with atsumu soon turns into you not being able to keep your hands off of each other, looking so irresistible he just can’t help himself. 

warnings: smut, car sex, slight voyeurism, overstimulation, dumbification, rough sex, dacryphilia, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, daddy! kink, multiple orgasms, swearing, really nasty 

a/n: if you haven’t heard this song, please go listen to it first oh my god the lyrics hot as fuck. of course i had to write a dirty, filthy, smutty ass fic for this, and honestly i can completely see atsumu in this situation.

the click of your heels was sharp against the marble floor, making your way across your ridiculously large bathroom as you adjusted an earring. Atsumu had a team dinner tonight, meaning a long ride to an even longer dinner at whatever high end restaurant had been chosen for the occasion. being engaged to a professional volleyball player came with its share of events and all around tight schedules, but you wouldn’t trade him for the world. you had grown accustomed to nights like these, enjoying the company of his lively teammates and getting all dolled up to go out.

with one last glance into the full body mirror, smoothing down your sleek black dress, you stepped into your bedroom, Atsumu standing in front of a wall with a smaller mirror as he adjusted his tie. his mischievous gaze found your reflection, smirking as he took in the sight of you. a low whistle sounded throughout the room as he eyed you up and down, the dress hugging every curve and dip of your body. a simple dress, really, but severely overpriced. despite the cost it did look quite good though, or rather you made it look good.

“you look gorgeous, darlin’.” the nickname rolled off Atsumu’s tongue with a sultry bite, his naughty eyes practically undressing you right there. with a light chuckle you walked over to him, placing a hand on one of his broad shoulders, looking at the both of you in the mirror.

“thank you, Tsumu. we do look fucking good, don’t we?” his laugh was deep and amused as it rumbled out from his chest, eyes crinkling in agreement. hands still messing with his tie, Atsumu leaned over, teeth nipping at your earlobe. the light tug had chills tingling down your spine, but you kept your composure as you pushed him gently, muttering something about how he was taking his sweet time then going back to your closet to get a jacket before you left.

“where you goin, y/n?” he called teasingly, apparently not finished with his playful antics and suggestive smirks. “I wasn’t done lookin at you!”

Keep reading

"hi rudolph." you greeted atsumu with a laugh, poking your finger against the tip of his nose, which was tinged a light shade of red by the winter air.

"oh, shut up." atsumu retorted, though the corners of his mouth curved up into a small smile. you leaned in, gently booping his nose with your finger again, causing him to crack into a wide grin.

he pulled your hand away from his face before you could squish his nose for a third time, opting to fit it snugly in his own. "i couldn’t find my scarf." he explained with a sigh, "i swear i saw it in the closet just the other day."

"oh?" you bit the inside of your cheek, quickly clearing your throat with an innocent smile. "well, that's weird."

"i know, right?" atsumu exclaimed, waving his arms around dramatically, "it was right in front of me—"

atsumu's voice slowly trailed off and he stopped dead in his tracks, body frozen still on the sidewalk. his eyes bore straight into yours, mouth agape with incredulity as his gaze slowly trailed down your features to your neck, where a warm scarf happily resided upon.

not just any scarf.

his scarf.

you watched his eyes slowly widening in realisation, comically, even, as they darted in disbelief between the scarf hanging around your neck, to your eyes, and back.

a wave of laughter escaped from you at the look of blatant shock flashing across his face. looping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down to press a kiss onto his flushed nose, then a peck on his cheek, and another one onto his slightly chapped lips.

"hey!" atsumu grumbled against your lips, gently pushing you away with a slight frown. "you took my scarf?"

"it was cold." you explained with a sheepish smile, arms still looped loosely around his neck while his now rested on your hips. "plus your scarf smells nice."

atsumu shook his head with a defeated smile. "what am i going to do with you." he muttered under his breath.

"you could give me your scarf forever." you suggested, sweeping a few stray strands of hair away from his face.

"you wish. buy your own one."

"that's mean, 'tsumu." you chided lightheartedly.

"meaner than leaving me to freeze to death?" atsumu questioned, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"fine." you huffed, reaching up for the scarf that hung securely around your neck.

his brows furrowed together as he watched you unravel half of the scarf from your neck. before he could voice his confusion, or rather, his concern that you should keep wearing the scarf in this cold weather, you tugged him closer by the collar of his jacket, successfully wrapping the other half of the scarf around his neck.

"so we're both warm." you announced proudly, your voice slightly muffled by the scarf.

atsumu chuckled, a tender smile adorning his features. he pulled you in by the waist, effectively closing in the distance between the two of you. "it's not going to work like this." he whispered. his forehead was now pressed against yours, puffs of his warm breath mingling together with yours in the cold air.

"then what do you propose?"

he smirked, a glint of mischief sparkling in his eyes as he suddenly turned around without warning. crouching down a little, he picked you up onto his back in one swift motion, tucking your legs just above his hips. somehow, even with all that movement, his scarf still lay firmly above both of your shoulders.

"does this work?" he asked. though he had already begun to take a few strides forward.

"yeah. i guess it does." you laughed, resting your head comfortably on his shoulder.

it was at that moment that atsumu decided he didn't mind if you stole his scarf. he didn't mind it at all. as long as you were willing to share it with him.

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.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA ATSUMU x FEM READER

Being hot at the grocery store should be illegal.

wc — 800

tags — grocery store meet cute, set in the same universe as the way to the heart is through the stomach

“There is an attractive man on the other side of the grocery aisle,” you hiss at Kiyoko. Your roommate had dragged you out for a grocery run, but as the person who forced you out of the comfort of your home, she could stand to be a little nicer to you. 

Instead, she raises an eyebrow; her face conveying utter disdain, confusion, and slight pity at all once. It’s a little impressive, honestly. 

She peeks between the cracks in the shelves. Looks at you. Looks at the man. Looks at you again. She makes a motion that could be what are you waiting for or let the grandma pass so she can get her multivitamins. 

Sometimes it’s complicated when it comes to Kiyoko. She’s not great at talking without words. It’s because she’s spoiled. Must be nice to have a boyfriend who loves you so fully you don’t have to try to be understood, you think with a hint of jealousy. 

Then, she pushes you towards the other aisle in a gesture that’s unmistakable. 

“Kiyoko!” You’re appalled. “You’re not making me go over there. I’m wearing my pajamas!” 

Your pajamas are grey sweats with multiple suspicious stains from ketchup or blood or some other substance. You’re not sure. That’s why it’s suspicious. 

“Okay? He looks worse,” she says. Notably, she doesn’t tell you that you look fine. 

She probably thinks that’s reassuring. It’s not. 

The fact that he’s also in his pajamas and still looks hot is infuriating. 

And very sexy. 

Terribly so. 

“Just go talk to him,” she says. “You know if you don’t you’ll be thinking about him for days, anyway.” 

“I will not!” 

“Excuse me,” says the hot stranger, who in the time that you spent arguing with Kiyoko, has suddenly moved behind you. “Do ya mind?” 

He’s gesturing at the package of cereal behind you. 

You freeze. How did he move so quietly? And had he heard the conversation between you two? 

“Hello?” He waves his hand in your face - a little rudely. That deducts one point from his overall hotness score. You scramble away, giving him access to the shelf. 

“This is my favorite brand,” he says conversationally, “but my brother got a girlfriend lately, and every time she comes to our apartment she eats all of mine. I’ve told her not to like six million times! And he’s a chef! Why are ya even eatin’ processed junk if ya can get yer professional chef of a boyfriend to make ya whatever ya want? He’s so whipped, I swear.” 

“Aren’t- aren’t you also eating processed junk, then?” You say with trepidation.

He brushes you off with a “No, that’s different.” 

He’s…a little weird. Who just talks to a stranger like that? You have to admit that confidence is attractive - even if you’re not sure if it’s confidence or narcissism as he continues. 

“So, like. Are ya going to ask me out or what?” 

You choke on your own spit. He had overheard. There would be no better time for one of these shelves to fall on you and crush you instantly.

“Woah!” Says the hot stranger, who still hasn’t told you his name before commanding you to ask him out. “Ya okay?” 

He slaps your back as you wheeze for breath - hard. Is he an athlete in his spare time? How does anyone have that kind of arm strength? 

“I-“ You shut your mouth because actually, you don’t know what to say. How do you respond to that? 

“Come on,” says Mr. Bad Bleach Job. “I heard ya and yer little friend talking about me all the way down the aisle. I know you want in on this sexy ass.” 

He’s ridiculous. Are you - are you into that? You’re seriously reevaluating your mental health even as you say, almost to your own surprise, “Can I take you on a date?” 

He wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Can ya make it a little more romantic?” 

“Why don’t you ask me out if you’re going to be so demanding?” You challenge. 

“Sure,” he says easily. “Wanna go out? We can get fancy sushi for fun and eat McDonald’s after cause that’s real food.” 

Even you can’t tell if the noise that escapes you is a laugh or a sigh. What have you gotten yourself into? 

“Whatever,” you say, handing him your phone. “I think mine was better.” 

“They both kind of sucked. 5/10 for execution, -2 for sheer cringe, -3 for awkwardness.” 

“Kiyoko, read the room.”

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!

. . . 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.