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rosierin · 4 years

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Studying with you

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

synopsis: after finding out about your gradually decreasing grades, your teacher urges you to change your studying methods and decides to find you a tutor among the class. shame that tutor is literally the biggest jerk known to man. you swear he knows nothing but insults and that his heart is made of stone. or is it?

genre: fluff

type: oneshot

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i hate love this guy, srsly

"Oi, (y/n). Wake up, we're not finished."

Your head jerks up and you let out a loud, drawn out groan as your eyes refocus on the man in front of you. He's sneering, same as usual, and you wish you could suddenly go back to dream land where you were happily baking cookies with Hinata and Kageyama.

Beneath your arms are two gaping algebra textbooks. One is riddled with scribbly notes and an unnecessary amount of pointless doodles, except the one of Tsukishima— scowling with a head drawn way too big compared to the rest of his skinny body. The other is filled with neat, detailed formulas, pastel highlights and all the correct answers which you've been struggling to find for the past two hours.

"I'm up, I'm up, geez.." You yawn with your head still on the table and look up at Tsukishima with drowsy eyes. "You could've woken me up a little nicer, ya know."

"Yeah.. no. How about you hurry up and finish so I can go home?" He looks more than done at this point and huffs, pointing at a formula jotted messily on your paper. "And you got that one wrong again, by the way."

You squint at your work, then realize he was right. "Oh. My bad."

Wanting to get things over with, you get back to work but your eyelids are so heavy it's ridiculous. Not to mention your brainpower has reached its limit.

You can feel your grip on your pen loosen as you try and correct your work but before you know it, your head drops again, only to be jolted awake by a sudden smack to the back of the head with what feels like a textbook.

"What the— Do you mind?!" You snap.

Tsukishima doesn't react to your outburst in the slightest, just nods to your unfinished work with a look of lazy authority. "Algebra." He stares at you with a deadpan expression when you pout. "Now."

"Fiiine." You sigh, annoyed that your puppy dog eyes didn't work on Tsukishima. Not that you thought they would. Tsukishima didn't seem like the type to particularly like animals, except maybe for dinosaurs. He had a small keychain of one buried deep within his pencil case, you found. "You know, you'd make a terrible teacher."

This time, it's Tsukishima's turn to yawn, stretching his long limbs and you have to force yourself not to focus on the pull of his lean muscles despite yourself. Then, he turns to look at you with a look of false innocence. "Sorry, go on?"

"I hate you."

"Great. Now ask me if I care."

You suck in through your teeth as you hold back from socking the blonde straight in the face. He's been sassing you non-stop since the beginning of your study session and you'd think you'd be used to his perpetual cocky remarks by now but alas, he was still a huge pain in your ass.

"Where're you going?" You ask as Tsukishima gets up from his chair that's in front of your desk, dusting the eraser shavings off your textbooks.

"Aw. Think you'll miss me?"

You bite your lip down and he notices, smirking contently before deciding to answer: "going to get some water. That question better be finished by the time I get back."

He's gone before you can retort, long legs granting him a quick escape. However halfway down the hallway you hear him add: "or I'll make you do three more."

Great.

"Yessir," you sigh, though you have absolutely no intention of following through.

You glance down at your textbooks for good measure— textbooks which are practically staring at you, and you can picture them with beady little eyes as though they're chanting— soooolve ussss.

You shudder. Man, you really were tired.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, Tsukki."

Pushing your homework aside, unfazed by your salty tutor's threats, you decide it's time for an actual break. You deserved it, right? Yeah, yeah you did. So without second thought, you let your attention drift to the scenery outside instead.

You'd been so focused on your homework (and Tsukishima's sass) that you hadn't even noticed the beautiful sunset that was now setting over the hills of Karasuno High. You always loved the way it looked at this hour, basking the buildings and tall, lush trees in its warm light. It was all too soothing, so soothing that you hadn't even realized you were once more falling asleep, eyeslids fighting to stay open until they finally gave in and what little willpower you had left, left your body.

"Right, time's up. You better be finish—"

The moment Tsukishima walks back into the classroom, eyes settling on your current state— sprawled out on your desk, mouth slightly agape and completely out cold, he's overcome with the urge to sigh.

He walks over to your desk and sits down opposite you, then as he leans his cheek into his palm, he lazily pokes your cheek— once, twice, but gets no reaction in response.

"You've got to be kidding me.." He sighs. But he decides to not bother and wake you up this time. What'd be the point? You clearly weren't in any shape to study and honestly, he didn't have the patience in him anymore to try in case it'd drive him crazy.

For a second he debates just leaving you there, passed out of your classroom desk, but quickly decides against it in case he gets an earful from your parents about leaving you alone or something. The last thing he wants is any extra trouble.

Therefore he agrees, albeit begrudgingly, to let you sleep. Just until you were rested up enough to work again.

⭐

Thirty minutes go by, you're still fast asleep.

During that time, Tsukishima took it upon himself to slip his headphones on and listen to some beats, hazel eyes flitting beyond the window to watch the last of the sunset, hoping it'd make the time go by quicker.

Usually, this would be right up his alley; peace and quiet, chill lofi and a sunset, however when sat on a painfully uncomfortable, wooden chair rather than his comfy and plump single bed, the experience was significantly less appealing. Therefore, after trying to find a comfortable sitting position and failing for the fourth time he decides to take his headphones off and focus back on his studies— he might as well, only when he reaches for his pen, he realizes it isn't there.

Amber eyes scan the table. Usually it'd be in his pencil case; he doesn't remember taking it ou—

Ah, never mind. It all makes sense when he sees it. Not in his pencil case after all, but balanced precariously between your fingers.

He rolls his eyes.

Why didn't she just use her own pen?

Reaching for it, he attempts to pull it out of your grasp only to freeze when you begin to stir.

He doesn't know why at this point— he could just wake you up, that's what he'd initially planned. But now, for some reason, there's something that prevents him from doing so. Maybe it had something to do with the way you were sleeping so peacefully.

He tries to pull at his pen again— gently— but this time, it isn't you stirring that makes him seize up, but the way your index and middle finger hook around his own.

His brain stutters.

Well, this is new.

Tsukishima's back straightens an awkward amount, completely unsure of what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before. He becomes painfully aware of that. He's also painfully aware that you could possibly wake up while holding him like this.

Thankfully, you don't. And although the tenseness of his body is beginning to hurt, he still takes the time to admire your sleeping form.

You're laying crossed armed, head nestled between them, facing him. He watches your body rise and fall ever so gently, can almost hear your quiet breaths. It's picturesque, almost; the way your hair glows beneath the bright full moon. Unknowingly, his thumb twitches nearer, gravitating towards the warmth of your hand and he can almost feel—

"Enjoying yourself there?"

Suddenly he's frozen. Though it only lasts a second, for the next he's already retracted his hand, folding it under his arm like it was never there to begin with.

"Wh— How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," you say, smiling curiously at him and for once the tables have been turned; the teased having become the teaser. "So you can be nice sometimes."

Tsukishima's expression is anything but impressed as you mock him, his face caught between confused and annoyed, and dare you say even a little bit embarrassed? He's quick to shake it off though, sparing himself of any sly comment as he regains his usual cool demeanor.

"Please. You're the one who grabbed me first," he scoffs.

"But you didn't try to move," you shoot back.

There's a strange atmosphere that settles in the room as your mishief-glinting eyes bore into his, and Tsukishima doesn't dare talk back for once, having been robbed of all witty comebacks. He hates being at a loss for words, but he hates even more so, the beginnings of a grin forming on your features, one that he knows is a result of his shortcomings.

"Whatever, (y/n) just pack up your stuff. We're done for the night," he says as he himself starts tidying his belongings.

You chuckle then nod your head. "Sure thing, sensei."

"...don't call me that."

"Sensei."

"Urgh, shut up."

⭐

Later that night, when you're lying in bed, ready to fall asleep, your eyes snap open as your phone buzzes underneath your pillow. You pull it out and press the home button, wondering who could possibly be texting you at this hour. When you do, you're surprised when it's Tsukishima's ID that pops up.

He had sent one message:

"Oh and by the way, you drool when you sleep."

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lover-of-skellies · 4 years

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Door 4

You swallowed back your feelings of uncertainty, carefully approaching the door that had gained your attention. You knocked, then waited for a response, only to receive none. As bad as you felt for invading the riders' privacy like this, your curiosity propelled you forward anyway, and soon enough, you found your hand grasping the knob. Giving a gentle twist and nudging the door open just enough to peek inside, you called out, announcing your presence and asking for permission to come in. Once again though, there was none.

Your shoulders sank a bit in defeat and you furrowed your brows; you'd come all this way, your curiosity and determination to get to know each of the riders driving you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you silently contemplated your options for a moment, deciding against simply walking away. You were going to enter anyway, and you were going to look around. As long as you weren't digging through the dresser or rifling through papers, you'd be forgiven... right?

[You selected: Door 4]

Now entering: Retribution's room

~~~

Stepping further into the room and nudging the door shut behind yourself, you glanced around, squinting to see in the darkness. The curtains had been drawn, as if this room's occupant were attempting to avoid the light. Sighing, you flicked the light switch, expecting light to flood the room. Unexpectedly, however, there was none. You furrowed your brows, flicking the switch a couple more times, as if testing it.

Giving up after a moment, you rolled your eyes, simply pulling your phone out of your pocket and turning on the flashlight, shining the beam around the room. Very cautiously beginning to make your way across the space, the first thing that caught your attention was a fireplace, seemingly out of place and added in at the last moment. There was a large rug on the floor before it, a rather plush looking chair situated just close enough to use the light from the fire to read.

Which, by the few books that were left neatly stacked on a small table beside the chair, you assumed was something this room's occupant enjoyed doing. Slowly lifting the beam of light until it was pointed above the fireplace, you made a face; hanging on the wall above the fireplace was what looked like some sort of flag. It was a surprisingly pleasant shade of yellow, with streaks of gold and silver along the fabric. In the very center was a picture of the sun. Or at least, a symbol that was supposed to resemble the sun.

Once again panning your flashlight around the room, a desk nestled neatly in the corner beside a tall bookshelf had now gained your interest. Silently approaching it, you tilted your head as you took in the sight of countless papers, strewn across its surface carelessly. What looked to be a journal sat atop the numerous papers and you slowly reached out, tracing your fingertips over a strange symbol that was etched into its cover.

You were careful as you picked up the journal, opening it to a random page that read, "2nd of March - I'm weakened again, courtesy of this damned curse. I was so careful this time, paying close attention to the amount of magic I spent and how much I fed, though I suppose I didn't do a good enough job. Oh well. I'll have to try harder then." Flipping to another random page, you leaned down to get a better look at the entry, "14th of June - Still weak, just as I was before. I've had to resort to feeding more heavily off of the others. As expected, Death knows when I feed from him. Famine and Pestilence are beginning to notice, but War remains clueless. I fed from her again yesterday; she's been bottling up many conflicting feelings again. Her love of that disgusting idiot Pestilence, her insecurity and self doubt, her occasional anger flare ups, and her interlocked anxiety and depression. Of all the emotions I've fed from, her guilt and resentment are my favourite, I think."

You made a face again; ok, so this weirdo feeds off other people's feelings. Well then.

Out of curiosity, you flipped to yet another random page, silently reading, "18th of November - I'll have to let out some excess magic again soon. The corruption will overtake me if I don't. I'll expend a large amount on adding more to the orb, and then whatever magic I still need to burn off... maybe I'll ask for Famine's assistance. He seems happy enough to kiss me when I ask, so he shouldn't have any problems with it if I... no, nevermind. I can't do that. Not yet, at least."

You snorted, shaking your head before setting the journal down. Stepping over to the bookshelf and shining your flashlight at the items on its shelves, you hummed lowly. There were a handful of old looking books, as expected, but then there was a skull, surrounded by a few candles. Some feathers sat on another shelf, all of which were black. Assuming the collection of books consisted of occult and ritual stuff, you opted to bypass them, instead shifting your attention to the wardrobe where you could see a faint purple glow coming from one of the slightly open doors.

Immediately intrigued, you slowly approached the wardrobe, momentarily faltering as your chest began to feel tight. The atmosphere was very gradually beginning to feel heavier and heavier, and it began to give off the very distinct feeling of someone's gaze fixed on you. Worried that someone might've caught you checking out their room without permission, you glanced back over your shoulder, panning your flashlight around the room again. Seeing nothing, you let out a deep breath, refocusing your attention on the wardrobe.

Very carefully tugging one of the doors open, you blinked in surprise, finding what appeared to be an orb of some kind. It cast a purple glow over the inside of the wardrobe, tiny sparks of cyan appearing every so often, and it looked as though a cloud of darkness was swirling within it. Inside was a crown - mostly golden with a few small details here and there. A crescent moon shape was cut out of the front, and through the hole it left, all you could see was more inky darkness.

Despite the sudden rush of negative emotions that washed over you, you couldn't help but find the orb beautiful. Something in your gut told you to leave, but as if moving against your will, your hand lifted and began to reach for it.

Just as your fingertips were about to make contact, an arm slipped around you from behind, a bony hand firmly gripping your wrist to stop you. As your heart began to race, you heard him murmur, his tone very clearly less than pleased with you, "I wouldn't advise doing that. Not unless you have a death wish."

Eyes widening at his words, you spun to face him, fumbling for both an apology and explanation as to why you'd chosen to enter his room. Retribution was patient, although you could tell he was agitated, and he waited for you to finish speaking. His eye lights cast a soft cyan glow, allowing you to very vaguely see his expression; just as you thought, he was scowling at you, his sockets narrowed in distrust.

After you'd spat out what you felt was an adequate explanation and a sincere enough apology, you bowed your head in shame. The rider let out a deep sigh, stepping closer to you, and catching you by surprise, he reached out, his fingers catching your bottom jaw and tipping your head up so you were looking at him again. He moved even closer and your breath hitched as he grumbled directly into your ear, "I don't appreciate this intrusion, human. Not in the slightest. If it means that you'll keep your mouth shut, however, I will grant you permission to finish your exploration of my quarters. You may look, but if you touch anything, I can promise you - you'll regret it."

He backed up a bit to take in the clearly uncomfortable, anxious look you were now wearing. Tilting his head, his eye lights were focused completely on you as he hummed, "Do we have an understanding?" You wordlessly nodded, unsure what to say, and he gestured to the rest of his room, candles on his beside table suddenly illuminating on their own, "Go then. Finish exploring, and then get out of my sight."

Slipping out from between Retribution and the wardrobe, you switched off the flashlight on your phone and stuffed the device back into your pocket. Following the light from the candles, you found yourself at his bedside, looking up and admiring the canopy above it, dark, silky curtains tied back to each of the bed posts. The blankets laid flat and smooth, and appeared to be the same fabric as the curtains. There were several pillows lining the wall, neatly placed, as though Retribution had taken the time to make his bed after he woke up this morning.

At the foot end of the bed, a neat, almost painfully expensive looking set of pajamas were laying out - to be worn later, you assumed. You glanced up at Retribution, seeing that he'd moved closer and was now on the other side of the bed, watching you with an almost unnerving intensity. Trying your best to stay calm despite the threatening aura he was giving off, you took a deep breath, shifting your focus to his bedside table in an effort to distract yourself from how closely you were being watched.

The candles that had illuminated on their own (though likely with the help of his magic), were held in a fancy looking candelabra, and an open locket setting on the tabletop below it caught your attention. Leaning down and squinting to get a better look, you peered at the contents of the locket, which happened to be a photo of a girl with curly black hair. Her skin was almost as light as fresh snow, and she smiled brightly at whoever was taking the photo, her cheeks slightly flushed and her emerald green eyes almost seeming to sparkle. Noticeable dark circles resided under her eyes, and you frowned; something about her gave you the impression that she was exhausted, and likely didn't practice much self care.

A scar, starting from somewhere under her jaw, ran up over part of one of her cheeks, and there was a small purple flower tucked behind one of her ears, its shade almost matching that of her shirt. Curiosity bubbling in your chest at who she was, you looked to Retribution again, softly asking about her. Regarding you with narrowed sockets and a look of clear annoyance, he nearly hissed, "I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask me that."

Taking that as your cue to leave, you forced an awkward, apologetic smile, thanking the rider for allowing you to continue your exploration of his room before turning and heading for the door. Just mere seconds before you were able to reach for the doorknob, a chain looped itself around your slightly extended arm, and you yelped as you were jerked backward and spun to face Retribution again. His eye lights began to shift from cyan to violet as he stalked toward you, caging you against the still closed door. With his eye lights now a vibrant purple as he stared at you, you felt your chest tighten as his aura seemed to grow heavier, anxiety causing your heart to race.

You asked what was wrong, frowning as you watched a small droplet of some dark, tar-like substance roll down his face from both his mouth and nasal cavity. He seemed to be trembling ever so slightly, and more fear shot through you, causing your eyes to water up and a soft whimper to slip past your lips. As a tear rolled down your cheek, Retribution tilted his head, shaking as he reached out to wipe it away, his voice quivering as he mumbled lowly, "Promise you won't speak of what you've seen here."

Immediately understanding that he meant that as an order and not a question, you nodded, weakly sobbing as you agreed to keep the things you'd seen a secret. Seeming pleased with your compliance, he backed away, clasping his hands behind his back as he made a sound of approval and leered at you, a deranged grin slowly stretching across his face. Gesturing to the door behind you, he purred, "Good human. The door is right behind you. You may excuse yourself now."

Chest heaving as you struggled to breathe through the aura induced anxiety attack you were having, you spun around, practically throwing open the door before bolting out, not once looking back.

Going into his room was a mistake, it seemed, and you were filled with regret at having done so. You weren't curious about Retribution anymore. As far as you were concerned, he was terrifying, and you wanted no part in whatever was going on with him. A small part of you was worried for him, hoping that whatever was happening to him would pass. You'd never seen him like this before, and you prayed you'd never have to see it again. After all, once was more than enough.

#riders of the apocalypse #undertale au #undertale #writing #retribution.exe #four horsemen of the apocalypse #room exploration

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