a very un(?)requited crush
✮⋆˙ wc: 1.3 k, Miya Atsumu x gn! reader, fluff, no use of y/n ✮⋆˙
Things do not happen like they do in the romance novels. It's a simple truth, one that should be universally acknowledged. You drill it into your brain every day when you wake up, a solemn vow to not hope for anything more than an average life and disappointing romantic experiences.
Hiding alongside is a small prayer to be proven wrong. Deep down, who doesn't want to be desired like the protagonist? Just once, to have your feelings returned tenfold. To not suffer the drawn-out agony of an unrequited crush, watching from afar and waiting for a moment that never happens.
It would be nice, but you don't keep your hopes up, especially for yourself.
After all, you have pretty dreadful luck with crushes, giving you the feeling that you were only meant to admire from afar.
The people you liked never looked your way, and whenever one did, they turned out to be a massive piece of shit.
Or, perhaps there can be a mix. Perhaps, your crush never talks to you and also is an asshole.
As you walk through the entryway of Inarizaki High and spot the gaggle of people in the hall, you know it's true.
Even through your rose-colored lenses, you can see the cockiness stamped across every inch of Miya Atsumu's body. His golden hair shines under the lights, giving him the deceptive appearance of a halo. He doesn't bother smiling at the girls gushing about how they watch all his games, nor at the guys patting him on the back and trying to pretend they're friends with the volleyball team's setter. There’s no reason for him to be nice, because they all stay anyway.
You’re no better than them, really. Every time you walk past him, you steal glances like you’re robbing the Louvre. A mix of admiration and curiosity, tinted with the knowledge that you’re never going to actually talk to him. It’s actually impressive, how little you’ve interacted despite being in the same class.
You’d worry he was avoiding you, but it’s not like he cares enough to.
He’s too busy, too arrogant, too handsome.
He cares about nothing but volleyball. Maybe his brother, if he’s feeling generous.
It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you can’t help smiling whenever he acts stupidly confident, or whenever his friends call him on his bullshit. It’s not fair that you’re stuck on the other side of the hall, walking past his gaggle of fans and carefully avoiding their eyes. You can see your own emotions reflected in their hopeful gazes, and you don’t like it one bit.
The truth is, Atsumu does not want a romantic partner. That means letting someone new see all of his (certainly very ugly) personality, after all. As far as the school is aware, he’s never dated at all. Fangirls are where he draws the line. Fangirls who love him but don’t know him, fangirls who he can use and discard.
“Ugh,” you mutter. You really need to get better taste. Your locker’s just past the crowd of people–a beacon of safety. With one last glance at your crush, you rush ahead and punch in the code. Getting your things is more important than ogling.
He’s walking past you. He’s behind you, his voice is close, oh now he’s on the other side, and you’re–
Your things. Stop. No looking.
He looks so good in the school uniform.
You grit your teeth. Evil, evil boy.
The locker opens with a slight creak. Your notes and textbooks are exactly where you left them, stacked neatly in a pile with a maroon envelope on top.
It’s just an envelope, with your name written on the top in bold strokes.
When did someone sneak it in?
You glance around nervously, but no one’s watching. Not a single pair of eyes to watch you hesitantly open the package and pull out a folded piece of paper.
There’s no way it’s a…love note, right? That’s not…no one would…
You unfold the paper and read its contents.
I like you a lot. Meet me after school, by that overgrown bush in the courtyard. Please. You won’t regret it!
A laugh slips through your lips. Is this a joke? If whoever wrote this is genuinely trying to woo you, they’re doing a horrific job. It sounds more like a threat than anything.
“What do you mean your identity is a secret?” you murmur. “You want to meet me. Today. Why would you–”
It’s almost endearing, how silly the whole thing is. Your shoulders are shaking from giggles as you tuck the note into your pocket. The most likely possibility is a prank, but you’ll still go along for the fun of it.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
You kick a small pebble on the ground to distract yourself from the sight before you. “You–I didn’t take you as the kind of person to do pranks like this.”
The sun’s starting to make its way back down to the horizon, but it’s still bright outside as you stand in the courtyard with the mysterious note in your hand. Across from you stands none other than Miya Atsumu, arms crossed with that asshole grin on his face. It only got bigger when he first saw you. No wonder–he knew his prank worked, and now you were sighing with your head downturned trying to logic your way out of this situation. You can’t show even a hint of interest in him, or you’ll be mocked mercilessly.
You look up. Atsumu actually looks…nervous?
“Shit, did I say somethin’ stupid? I thought I was super cool and chill in it…”
“Well,” you wince, “it kind of read like a ransom note. It was kinda charming, though.”
It’s not like he meant it.
“Y’know, I’ve never asked anyone out,” Atsumu shrugs. “Everyone wants to date me, obviously.”
“But, uh–remember when we had to do a group project?”
As a matter of fact, you did. He barely put in any work and was silent most of the time.
“Well, um.” Is Atsumu blushing?
“You told me I was nothing more than a pretty face.”
That…does sound like something you’d think, though he must’ve been really annoying for you to actually say it.
Atsumu scratches the back of his neck with one hand, awkwardly gesturing with the other. “Uh, I…liked that.” He grins. “I like my compliments with a bite.”
“That was just an insult,” you frown. “I mean, you are very handsome–”shit what am I saying–“but I was…just saying you weren’t doing any of the work.”
“Mmhmm, that. That was the best part. Cuz you actually made me wanna help out more.”
“But for some reason,” he sighs, “we were never put together after that. So…I had to resort to this. ‘Samu thinks I should’ve just confessed from the start, he says I’m stupid. Honestly, I prefer you calling me stupid.”
Oh shit. He’s being honest. He likes you.
Miya Atsumu likes you, and he sounds more introspective and sweet than he’s ever been from afar. You gulp. “Well, I may have, uh, had a crush on you this whole time. I just thought you were an asshole.”
His eyes widen at the confession.
“And you still are, by the way,” you add. Can’t give everything to him. “You’re not nice. But I think there’s some kindness hidden somewhere there. I really like you too.”
You hand him the note. “Is this you asking me out?”
He nods rapidly, looking for all the world like a happy dog. His lips twist into a massive smile. “So, you say yes?”
“Yep,” you reply. “I’ll date you, pretty face and all.”
Hesitantly, your arms wrap around him in a quick hug. It’s a little awkward and foreign.
You’re excited to get used to it.
