❛ TUTORING ❜
gender neutral reader x atsumu miya
Content: volleyball nationals were near, and with atsumu's grades not being as decent as he would've wanted them to be, his chances at participating were slim to none unless he got his grades in order, what other option than to assign him a tutor? thank god you weren't willing to tutor him.
Warnings: angsty, atsumu is down bad, atsumu is a dumbass outside of volleyball, cringy train of thoughts from atsumu, atsumu being a loser, poor wooing attempts, osamu is a menace, bad dating advice — and atsumu actually following through with it —, fluffy until it's not, it's like watching a car wreck and not being able to do anything about it, atsumu is a loser through the whole thing and acting like a dumbass, English — it's gonna be a warning in all my stuff, spare me :(
Word count: 1,967 words
Author's note: atsumu miya is a loser in my head, will always be regardless of how many fan girls he has, I can't portray him as anything but that, he's my baby but also my loser, and he shall remain a loser in my works too
Atsumu's grades were in the danger zone, and the alarm in his brain rang through vivid thoughts when the news that he wouldn't be going to the volleyball nationals if he didn't manage to regulate them at least a bit.
Absolutely not, he was the setter of the team, he belonged in the court with the rest of the team, with his fingertips touching the ball while his mind worked overdrive to achieve the perfect strike.
Volleyball was part of his everything, he couldn't give it up, especially not with such an important date being near and he needed to be there along with his team.
They couldn't take that away from him, simply not.
So he listened to Kita's advice and filed a request for a tutor with his teacher, very reluctantly because the tutoring club was, in his opinion, just a front for the nerds to gather together and talk about nerdy topics that the rest of the school alumni — the normal ones —, couldn't care less about.
Volleyball players, professional players, didn't need algebra or history to play, did they? So why exactly, in the teacher's eyes, did he need to pass the subject even if not with flying colors?
And that's when you showed up, another person he deemed a nerd and who he would never willingly interact with if not extremely necessary.
He just needed to survive the tutoring three months, just three, enough time to get his grades up again and then go to the nationals and then it'd be fine if they dropped a little again.
Regardless of how much his brain was already dying just from the thought alone of going through the torturous motions, he knew he needed to do it, as fast as he could and then forget about the whole situation altogether. He'd put up with it just for the absolutely necessary time, counting the days until he would finally be able to get rid of your presence hovering in his brain.
It was just for the sake of getting his grades up, just for volleyball, so he could linger in the court a bit more, the way he was supposed to.
And so, the countdown started.
Three months.
Three months since you started tutoring Atsumu Miya, the obsessive setter of Inarizaki who was part of the same team who always made it to the nationals, the one who has always been willing to test his limits and push others to their own as long as the ball would reach the spiker the way he wanted to.
He wore his emotions in his sleeve, never too ashamed to show just how far his passion went, because there were some limits he wasn't afraid to cross if the reward was what he wanted or better than what he imagined, never too afraid to show his annoyance at the mediocrity of other teammates if he believed it necessary.
Which is why he didn't bother hiding how much the tutoring sessions pissed him off.
Flimsy excuses slipped from his mouth time after time, scowls etched in his features yet again when you didn't budge and forced him to sit, a frown permanently engraved in his face when he was around and the lack of attention he was giving to the whole thing.
He was wasting time he should be investing in perfecting his moves in the court, didn't you understood that?
He was stubborn, but your own stubbornness that rivaled his was starting to get under his skin in ways he didn't think was possible.
For the love of everything you might consider holy or sacred, leave him alone.
He didn't needed to lay awake at night because you were starting to get to him, tossing and turning in the mattress and getting a threat to get his ass kicked by Samu because you refused to leave his mind — or was it because he didn't know how to get you out himself?
The days passed and he, by some miracle, started to think that maybe the tutoring sessions weren't so bad if you were the one who was teaching him. It was only because you had a way with teaching him, a way to make him understand.
Not because of the day you couldn't make it and someone else had to tutor him that evening and he felt the unusual feeling of disappointment taking place in his chest at not being around you, absolutely not.
And it wasn't because he had missed you that day, no, anyone who thought otherwise — not just Osamu, because he always had a talent for reading his twin and the way he'd behave and squirm in his place, but everyone else too because his mood had a decay that day — was heavily mistaken.
And he didn't inwardly sighed in relief the next day when you appeared to the spot you both had already claimed as yours for the tutoring sessions in the school library.
You must be seeing things, because there was simply no world where his shoulders would've dropped just the slightest bit when his eyes met your figure in the entrance.
The denial didn't lasted long, not with his conscience in his shoulder, whispering after a particular session around the end of the first month when he had noticed he had been weirdly focused on the shape of your lips and how they moved when you spoke, or the way your hands moved with gestures as you explained a certain topic he didn't understood, as if that would help him understand.
It didn't.
If anything, the little things were just messing up with his brain even more...And... was that a new perfume you were wearing or was he just imagining it?
He had to hand the win to his twin because for once, Samu had been correct about something... he was developing feelings for you.
And by the last day of the first month, the tutoring session ended with him offering a little smile to you, finally out of the pit of denial and embracing the feelings arousing in his heart, and with his imagination running with hundreds of 'what if's.
The second month was sent differently.
His nerves were through the roof. He had made peace with the newfound feelings you caused in him, but that didn't meant he knew how to act normally now!
He was more distracted than ever, and while he was annoyed with it because it meant he wasn't making any kind of progress this month to get his grades back on track, it also meant that the longer the advance in the tutoring sessions was delayed the more he had to be around you.
Was he supposed to be distressed because he was still away from the court, or delighted because he could spend more time with you under the excuse of needing help without having to look like a pathetic loser who had no romantic experience?
Every day, he went home, now frustrated and screaming into the pillow because he was lost on how to act around you — and with Osamu on the top bed of their bunker bed giving him weird looks, which was also annoying but somehow more tolerable than acting like a whipped loser for you.
Please leave his mind a few hours so he could gather his thoughts and put them together in a coherent way for him to be able to keep acting at least somewhat normally.
He wasn't keeping you out, but he needed to keep his act together. He couldn't let the whole school know about his feelings for you, didn't you get that? What would happen to his reputation after that if word got spread of it?
The sudden thought had him looking behind his shoulder and being extra cautious around you, looking for any possible eyes that could be hunting him down for answers that he wasn't ready to give.
Honestly, please give him a break, some time to breathe — if possible in your arms and with his face shoved in the crock of your neck so he could get a good whiff of your perfume now that he confirmed that yes, you were wearing a new one —, and some time alone... but with you still close to him, just in case... you know, for good measure... one could never be too cautious.
The flimsy excuses stopped, and while his frown remained, now it was caused by a genuine desire to pay attention and understand the words that you spewed, always sounding like dripping honey on pancakes.
Because you'll like him even a little if he understood what you were saying, wouldn't you? It was the bare minimum, probably, but he wanted to try.
Everyone liked smart guys, right? What a better combo than a pretty face, an athlete and a brain with something inside it to top it all?
You wouldn't be able to resist his charm once he finally got matters into his own hands and put said charm to use. Surely, nothing could go wrong after he asked the person he trusts the most for advice.
"Be yourself, talk about your passion for volleyball, everyone loves a guy who's passionate about something" Osamu had said... and Atsumu was for sure going to beat his brother's ass as soon as he got home. The advice sounded appealing at first, it was a simple piece of advice anyone could give and it had been a real option... until he put said advice to use without thinking twice and forgetting about how long his mouth could run when it came to volleyball.
The result was simple, he had stood up abruptly after realizing he had been rambling for more than forty-five minutes straight without pausing to greet you and left home — also kicking his brother's ass because that dumbass had known perfectly well how riled up he could get when it came to volleyball, and he had encouraged him to talk about it knowing full well he could've given normal advice like "be nice and behave"... but noooooo, his idiot brother had to go and be the little shit he was.
It got to a point where he couldn't hide his feelings no matter how much he wanted it, and in order to avoid embarrassing himself even further, he made a decision: he was going to confess.
He waited as patiently as he could, awaiting the third month because then, you wouldn't be bound by your obligations as his tutor and your time spent together could be used otherwise — on dates, his mind kept on whispering, real romantic dates where he could actually hold your hand. — So he waited.
And when the moment finally came, he confessed.
He wished he hadn't, because the words you uttered weren't the ones he had hoped for. In fact, they were a far cry from the response he had spent days and nights yearning for — loudly daydreaming during classes and after practice with all kinds of scenarios including you both, doing everything lovers did.
He understood now, things wouldn't be the way he had want them to be because they were never planned as such.
It all made sense now.
You volunteering to tutor him, being accommodating to him, trying to make him learn despite everything... it wasn't because you had a wish to help him, not an entirely genuine one, you had been eyeing his twin.
You had been just making points with his brother, showing that you could tolerate him and by extension, looking all starry-eyed whenever Samu had been around to check on him.
Atsumu was heartbroken.
And later on, you were also heartbroken, because Osamu would never date the person who broke his brother's heart regardless of how much they would banter and get in fights.
©andysdrafts property, do not copy, translate, plagiarize, adapt or upload anywhere else, without my previous consent.
