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#(because we went to the same high school and college actually)
thiswaytwoinfinity · 21 hours
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it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect
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Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people
Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+
It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.
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There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.
It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.
In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
 
“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”
Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.
“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”
“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.
Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”
It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.
You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.
Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.
What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.
You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.
You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”
You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.
 “I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”
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For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.
The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.
Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.
“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.
“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.
“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”
“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”
He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.
“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.
For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.
It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.
He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.
It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.
Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.
Or maybe he was just a little jealous.
Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.
And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.
Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”
 
If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.
“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.
Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.
But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.
So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.
“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”
You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.
Annoyingly, he was beautiful.
Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.
“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”
Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —
“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”
It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.
He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.
“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”
You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.
You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.
“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”
His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —
The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)
“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”
With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.
 
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You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.
“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”
He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”
“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”
“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”
Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.
“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that’s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”
There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.
“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”
He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.
“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”
“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.
“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …���
You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.
“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”
You could give into it.
Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.
And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).
But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.
And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.
So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.
“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”
He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.
“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”
You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”
“Well, I’m one of a kind.”
“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.
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 Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.
Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉
Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.
Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego
Unknown: I know all the best spots after all
Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something
Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf
Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol
 
You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain
You: but having a tour guide sounds nice
You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?
 
You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.
 
Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place
You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.
-—-—-—-—-—
Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin
Tagging some people who asked:
@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592
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taibhsearachd · 1 year
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...ngl, the fact that ADD and ADHD got condensed into ADHD when the hyperactivity specifically is part of the reason so many girls were simply not diagnosed drives me up the wall.
It's not that the whole name isn't bullshit, because it is. It describes the way people outside of our experience perceive us, as opposed to the difficulties that are part of our lived experience. Even from an outside standpoint, it's recognizable that "deficit" is not always the issue with our attention... but that's beside the point.
When psychiatrists noticed that ADD and ADHD were basically the same thing... they chose to favor the typical male presentation in the literal naming of the condition, and in doing so condemned a generation of girls (and other afab people) to suffer through being told they're so smart, they just don't apply themselves enough, that it's a personal failing they can't regularly turn in homework, that they're lazy for waiting until the last minute to work on an assignment... because those girls weren't hyperactive. Those girls just kind of drifted off and daydreamed in classes. Those girls doodled or wrote stories all through their school years, and functioned measurably worse when a teacher noticed they were doing that and tried to stop them. Those girls are now so many of my adult friends who are now being diagnosed with ADHD as adults, because the hyperactive part of the diagnosis almost solely applies to children (CHILDREN, when, I might note, this is a lifelong condition) who are socialized male.
We need a whole other name for the condition, because attention deficit is not our problem at all. But my god, the hyperactivity part actually ruined my life for so many years, because I had no way to explain to my dad why it physically hurt me to be bored, why I had to read or write or doodle in class in order to keep my focus, why I excelled in tests but failed at homework so my grades sucked because of that. No one even considered I might have ADHD, all through my childhood, but earlier this year I had the opportunity to go through all my grade school reports, and they could not be MORE CLEARLY talking about a child with ADHD. "Pleasure to have in class", "assignments not complete", "does not pay attention in class", "Birdie is a highly intelligent child with specific and unique needs" (I would LOVE more follow-up on that one, from third grade, do not have it). But I was a quiet and reserved child, so obviously I couldn't have ADHD.
I'm legitimately angry about it in retrospect. I went off my Adderall for a couple months recently, as an adult who only started taking Adderall as an adult, and it completely fucked up my ability to function. For years I was just out there as a teenager struggling through high school and college entirely unmedicated because as a child I was too withdrawn to be diagnosed. Fucking wild and also infuriating.
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scuderiahoney · 27 days
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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 3
hockey au part 3: a walk in near the park, a surprising team photo, and the semester comes to a close. 6.2k words
warnings: mentions of sports injury, mentions of bullying, alcohol, academic stress, final exams
Oscar has spent a lot of his life on the move. He moved to the US from Australia for high school at a pretty young age, just to try and play hockey. Looking back, it sounds crazy. What’s even crazier is that it actually worked. He’d play for club teams and in leagues and travel absolutely anywhere if it gave him time on the ice. And then he ended up on a college team and stayed put for two years, and honestly, it felt strange.
Over that time, he got good at putting things in boxes. Keeping life organized. Not so much in a sense of clutter and things having a place- his room is a mess, there’s laundry to be done, and his hockey locker is a disaster- but more so in his head. His friendships and relationships get categorized, information filed away, grouped together. Not by importance or value, but by… context. Hockey friends in one box. Family in another. People like coaches and managers and executives in a third. Moving somewhere new always shakes the boxes up.
By late November, though, Oscar’s feeling a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. He’s found his place in the team, he has weekly lunches with teammates, and he’s even made some friends outside of hockey. His old coach, Mark, says that’s a big piece of it. That it’s good to have something other than sport, just in case it all falls apart, or it doesn’t work out. People to fall back on who aren’t just there for hockey.
Oscar wants to say that his teammates would still be friends with him even if he stopped playing, for some reason, but the truth is that he’s been burned by other overly ambitious hockey kids way too often to truly believe it. That’s half the reason he’s on the Timberwolves now, why he left his old school and team behind. Things feel better here. Lando has an old friend who used to play hockey who still hangs around the house sometimes- Max, the other Max. (Oscar doesn’t call him that to his face.) So maybe Lando at least wouldn’t ditch him if he quit.
And then there’s you, too. Oscar’s not quite sure when you went from being an enigma he struggled to place into one of his carefully organized boxes in his head to, well, this.
You’re sitting across from him at the dining table in his house, one finger tracing the words in the textbook in front of you. You have a TimTam in your other hand-you seem to have developed a fondness for them, the same way that Oscar seems to have developed a fondness for you. The late afternoon sun is shining into the room through the sliding glass door and onto you. Oscar shakes his head to try to clear it.
As he does, you groan and drop your face into the textbook with a solid thud- he winces. “I hate physics.”
He holds back a laugh, because he knows you genuinely are frustrated. “Does slamming your face on the words help?”
You shrug. “Maybe, if I just sit here like this, the knowledge will seep into my brain.”
He hums. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”
“Right, because you know everything,” you mumble. “Genius man.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “Come on. Time for a break.”
“I don’t need a break, I need to learn…” you sigh and turn your head, pressing your cheek to the book and looking at him with one eye. “What are we studying again?”
Oscar fixes you with a disapproving look and heads towards the front door. He knows you’ll follow. By the time he makes it to the entryway, you’re hot on his heels, watching curiously as he pulls his shoes on.
“Where are you going?” You ask.
“We’re going on a walk,” he says. “Brain break.”
You shrug and nod, reaching for your own shoes as he pulls on a jacket. He tries not to laugh as you struggle to pull them on without untying them. You’re always stubborn like that, it seems. It’s almost painfully endearing. You stand up straight once you have the shoes on and look at him expectantly.
“Where’s your jacket?” He asks.
You shrug and shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. Or is it Charles’ hoodie? Oscar swears he’d seen him wearing it just yesterday.
“I didn’t wear one,” you say. Oscar raises his brows, and you roll your eyes. “There’s not even snow on the ground, Piastri.”
“It’s almost December, Bunny” he says flatly, and reaches for another one of his jackets hanging on the hook near the door.
He hands it to you, and stands there, waiting, until you grumble and pull it on. You wear the other guys’ clothing all the time, but he swears you look almost flustered at the offer. Huh. He’s trying desperately to pretend he’s not flustered over it, honestly. Something about you in his clothing makes him blush. He’d felt the same way about the hoodie you’d borrowed at the party.
“You’re just Australian,” you say, nudging your foot against his as if to usher him out the door. “You’re a baby about the cold.”
He doesn’t have much of a comeback to that, so he steps outside, and you follow right along with him. He walks down the steps and takes off down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. You might be right- he’s a bit of a baby when it comes to cold temperatures- but his breath curls into mist in front of his face and yours does the same, so it really is chilly. The sun paints everything golden- the windows on the buildings, the dead leaves that still cling to a couple trees. Your elbow bumps against his as the two of you walk. He tries to ignore the spark that shoots up his spine at the feeling. You're chatting away about something, someone in one of your classes who’s been annoying you lately. He's found he likes to listen to you talk.
When he turns to take the path through the park next to the athletics building, you stop in your tracks. He turns back, figuring you’ve seen something, but you’re just staring into the park, and at the large building behind it. He frowns.
“Everything alright?” He asks, quietly.
You nod. “I just. D’you think maybe we could walk to that cafe near here? I could really go for a chai latte.”
He nods- a drink does sound good. “Yeah, sure. D’you wanna walk through the park on the way? Won’t be much of a detour.”
The park is nice. It’s one of Oscar’s favorite places on campus. There’s grass and trees and a path that winds around the university’s baseball and soccer fields. But you’re staring at it with a much different feeling, if the look on your face tells him anything.
You shake your head. “No, let’s just…”
You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you take off down the sidewalk, heading away from the park. He’s left to follow in your footsteps, suddenly feeling like he really knows nothing about you at all.
…..
When Oscar thinks of home, now, he thinks of this. Not Australia, or the house, or even his family, really. He thinks of a jersey, a stick in his hand, and the scrape of his skates against the ice. Hockey, for all its cheering fans and yelling opponents and background music, is a strangely quiet sport. Maybe he’s just gotten good at blocking out the noise.
They’re warming up on the ice. He has warm up traditions, now, something he hasn’t had with teammates in years- he and Lando slap each other on the shoulders, and he and George always skate a lap together. It’s not anything huge or elaborate, but it means he’s part of the team, and that’s enough.
Max skates up to him, just at the end of warmup. He nudges his shoulder against Oscar’s through the padding. “Good?”
Oscar had a rough week in practice. It was the kind that would’ve had him benched for a month on his last team. Seb’s been nothing but supportive- constructive criticism was offered, sure, but he’s still on the ice today, so he figures that’s a good sign. He nods and turns to Max. His eyes flicker up into the stands. He shouldn’t know this, but he does- your seat is above Max’s head from this angle, up in the second section, front row. You’re wearing a jersey, probably Lando’s number if he had to guess, and sharing popcorn with Alex’s girlfriend, Lily. He smiles.
“Yeah. Good.” He nods.
Max nods in return, then skates away. Oscar follows.
When he scores later, and ties the game one to one, he looks to the same spot in the stands. Lando hits him on the back, hard, a bit too enthusiastic. You’re standing in front of your seat, arms around Lily, yelling, and he grins. He can’t help it. The smile doesn’t drop from his face for the rest of the game. The rink, the ice, and his teammates may feel like home, but the way you cheer for him feels awfully close to it, too.
At the party afterwards, you pour two shots of tequila and hand one to him. He takes it with a smile, grimaces at the taste, and laughs when you cough. He pats you on the back sympathetically, and when you take his hand two seconds later and drag him towards the beer pong table, he follows happily.
…..
December creeps up on Oscar, and with it, so does final exam week. Suddenly, it’s just… there, bearing down on him. He’s not exactly nervous about most of his exams- he’s prepared well, and though he’d never say it out loud, he’s pretty good at testing. But no matter how well he studies or how much he’s paid attention in class, exams still aren’t exactly fun.
He sees you a lot in the week leading up to it. You’re often in the kitchen, eating snacks with Max, or in the living room, quizzing Charles on vocab, or in Lando’s room taking a nap between classes. You’re stressed. He can tell. He does his best to help in any way he can- when he goes to the store, he picks up your favorite snacks and leaves them on the counter. He helps you study for the physics exam. When he finds you asleep on the couch in his living room on Saturday night, he carefully lays a blanket over you and turns off the lamp. He hopes some of it helps, just a little bit.
The next afternoon, Oscar stands in the lobby of the athletic training building. He and Max had headed over for the afternoon to do a workout together, more to get their minds off exams than anything else. Now he’s in the lobby, waiting for his team captain, and he’s staring. Laser focused. He's making a whole lot of connections all at once. The wheels are turning in his brain, and he’s sure if anyone’s watching him, he looks crazy. He jumps when someone slaps a hand against his shoulder. It’s Max.
“Hey,” his team captain says, shaking him slightly. “You look lost.”
Oscar frowns and turns back to the photo in front of him. Women’s Soccer, a team photo, from what would’ve been his freshman year at his previous school. He’d been looking at the photos while he waited- the lobby is lined with them, and some of them are actually pretty funny. Some of the faces in this one are familiar, people he’s seen in the gym off and on. One, however, had caught his eye.
“Is that who I think it is?” He asks, pointing at the left side of the picture in the third row.
When he turns back to Max, his face has changed. The teasing look is gone, replaced by something solemn and hard set. Max nods and tugs at his shoulder.
“Wait,” Oscar says, trying to stay planted while Max tries to drag him away. “But she-“
Max crosses his arms over his chest and studies Oscar, brows furrowed. “I know. It’s not my story to tell, yeah?”
Oscar nods dumbly. Max nods in response. Then he nods his head towards the door, as if he’s directing Oscar to follow him. He does, because he’s not sure what else to do, and he’s not going to get any more information from the photo. He knows what he saw, anyways. You, standing there with the whole team, in uniform, your name listed below the photo with the rest of your teammates.
If there’s one thing the Timberwolves do better than hockey, it’s soccer. The women’s team has been national champions multiple times. A spot on that team isn’t something someone gives up willingly. But you’re not on the team, not anymore. When Lando asked if you wanted to go to the gym with them, you’d replied that you “wouldn’t be caught dead at the athletic training building.” And you’d avoided the athletic park like the plague.
Max turns to him as they walk out of the building, and the confusion must still be evident on his face, because Max swears under his breath in some other language. Oscar’s too lost in thought to even wonder what language it is, exactly.
“Look, just-“ Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, she’ll talk about it when she wants to.”
“Okay,” Oscar nods. “But, like, is she… okay?”
Max gives him a sad smile. “Yeah.”
Oscar hears the silent part in his head. She is now.
They walk home together in near silence. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He’s sure Max doesn’t, either. When they get to the house, Alex is coming down the front steps, the door still open behind him. Oscar sees your boots in the entryway, your coat hanging on the hook. Alex ruffles his hair as he walks past, and Oscar ducks before he turns to Max.
“Don’t tell her?” He asks, and Max looks sheepish, like that was the exact thing he was about to do. “I mean. If you think she needs to know I saw it, then… sure. But I don’t want her to feel pressured to talk to me about it.”
Max wrinkles his nose and nods. “Okay. For now.”
Oscar nods. They’re in agreement, then. He walks in through the front door and he can hear you and Lando in the kitchen, singing along to whatever song is playing from the speaker. It’s family dinner night. Oscar tries to put the thoughts of you in a soccer team portrait out of his head.
He sits next to you at dinner as you pick at your food. It’s one of your favorite meals, but your appetite seems low. It has him feeling concerned. Max, on your other side, nudges you. Oscar watches the two of you have a quiet conversation and wishes he knew what you were feeling. You finally take a couple bites, and he tries not to show how relieved he is about it.
One by one, everyone wanders off to study and get ready for the week ahead. You stay sitting at the table, though. Oscar clears some plates and comes back to find you, a couple TimTams in hand. You take them with a soft smile.
“You alright?” He asks, quietly.
You nod. “Stressed.”
Oscar nods. “Anything I can do to help?”
You twist your mouth. “Probably not. I should really just go home.”
You don’t make any moves to get up. He sighs and sits down next to you. You drum your fingers on the worn wooden tabletop and set the cookies down next to your plate. You’re chewing on your lower lip, and you close your eyes and let out a breath through your nose.
“It’s like… my brain just won’t stop going,” you say. “Like everything I’ve read is just tumbling around in there and I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“Objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” Oscar says, and you groan.
“Do not use physics metaphors on me right now,” you say, and when he starts laughing, you dissolve into giggles, too. “Gross.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly when you turn to look at him. “Why don’t I make some tea, and we can put it in travel mugs, and I’ll walk you home?”
A soft smile slips across your face. “That sounds really nice.”
He makes the tea exactly how both of you like it, pours it into the mugs, and ushers you towards the front door. You stop in the living room to say goodbye to Lando, who ruffles your hair, and Max, who holds onto your arm and says something to you, so quietly that you’re the only one who’ll hear it. Then Oscar heads outside, and you follow. It’s slightly dark, and chilly, but you’ve brought a jacket this time. You wrap both hands around the mug as you walk, a habit of yours that Oscar finds awfully endearing. The streetlights glow bright above your heads.
The walk is mostly silent. He reaches the entrance to the park, and on reflex again, he slows and turns to head down the path. You stop in your tracks and let out a pained little noise. Oscar’s stomach rolls. In the distance, the soccer field is lit up bright with floodlights. Something must’ve happened, to keep you from playing. You’d been good enough to be on the team. Something had changed. He turns and takes a step to continue down the sidewalk, but you stay planted there, staring. He pauses, holding his breath. It’s just the two of you, under the streetlamps, feet on the sidewalk.
“I used to play soccer,” you say, quietly, and his pulse jumps.
She’ll tell you when she’s ready. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. You’re still staring out over the park, so he turns to stare, too. He feels you lean your shoulder against his, like you’re looking for support, and he leans into it, just to show he’s there.
“I got signed to play as a senior in high school,” you explain. “And, not to brag, but I was really good. Went through summer training camp and made friends with my teammates and got here and… then I fell just the right way at practice, or the wrong way, I guess,” you say, grimacing. “Fucked up my knee. I had to have surgery, twice, and even then, they pretty much told me I was done. That it would never heal right.”
Oscar’s heart sinks. His chest feels tight. He thinks of you, on the couch in the living room when he woke up feeling off and asked you to go on a run, how you’d said you’d messed up your knee. He thinks of Max and the concerned way he always watches you climb the stairs in the stands at the rink. He thinks of you, younger, like the picture in the athletics building, on the field, in pain. He feels sick to his stomach.
“And my teammates… they didn’t know how to act, I think. They didn’t know how to help, so they just didn’t try. So, suddenly I was no longer a soccer player, and I was alone, and…” you sigh. Oscar turns to face you, and he thinks there are tears in your eyes. “And then I met Lando, and the rest of the team, and the rest is history. But… there are some things that still get to me. The field… it holds a lot of bad memories, you know? And when I’m stressed like this it all comes flooding back.”
He nods. You’re not looking at him, even as he watches a tear roll down your cheek. He wants to reach out and wipe it away, but he wonders if that would be a step too far. He pulls his hands from his pockets. You swipe a hand against your cheeks and clear the tears, and then let your own hands hang at your sides. He takes a steadying breath, steels himself, and links his fingers with yours- casually, lightly, gently holding on. You squeeze his hand in reply- a thank you, he thinks. He does the same in return.
“Did Max tell you why I left my old school?” He asks, quietly.
“No,” you answer, voice low and tentative. “Max doesn’t tell people stuff like that.”
He shrugs, though he supposes that makes sense- he’d refused to tell Oscar what had happened to you. Max seems loyal like that. Oscar rolls a pebble beneath his shoe and listens to your breathing to remind himself you’re still there. He wants you to know this. Wants to share. Wants you to know he understands, at least a little bit.
“I got scouted by them my senior year,” he starts, closing his eyes. Like this, he’s almost right back in it. “And I was really excited. And then I got there and… the guys on the team were awful. I didn’t get any playing time, and they’d all been friends since they were kids, and I felt like such an outsider.” He kicks the pebble down the path lightly. “By the time my sophomore year rolled around, I hated it. I hated hockey. I’d spent my whole life doing nothing but that but I dreaded every practice. I was…”
He huffs. Squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He can feel the hits from his own teammates at practice. Can feel that same empty, lonely feeling sitting at the end of the bench. He can taste the blood in his mouth when he tried to stand up for himself and the team captain shoved him and the coach did nothing.
“It was fucked,” he says. He hates the way his voice wobbles. “So I quit. I walked out. I was done with hockey. I couldn’t even go near the rink for months.”
“But you’re here now,” you say, quietly.
He nods sharply. “I had this old coach- his name’s Mark. Showed up on his doorstep and told him the whole thing. He and Seb used to be teammates. So he got me a tryout. I refused, at first. And then Seb sent Max to come talk to me.”
He remembers that, clear as day, too. Max, bright and smiling, at his dorm room door. He knew who Max was, he had looked up to him for years. Max had walked in, planted himself on the floor in the room, and hadn’t left until Oscar changed his mind.
“I spent the summer training back home. Found my love for it again,” he explains. “But it wasn’t easy. I think I’m still working on it, sometimes.”
You hum next to him. You squeeze his hand again. His breath hitches. Your skin is warm against his. It makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known who he was without his sport. He thinks maybe you know that feeling better than anyone else.
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says into the night air. “And I know you must’ve heard it a billion times, and that I don’t really understand what it’s like to have it taken away like that. But…”
“But you get it,” you say, voice rough around the edges. “The lonely feeling.”
He nods and swallows against the lump in his throat. “And thank you. For making things less lonely here.”
“I’m sorry if I was too much,” you answer.
He just shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so… stuck.”
You’re quiet for a few moments, before you squeeze his hand again. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”
You knit your fingers with his, properly, and Oscar expects you to start down the sidewalk again. You don’t. Instead, your feet carry you down the path through the park. He understands now, that this place must hold awful memories. Reminders of what was supposed to be, what was taken away. You’re trusting him with this. It sits heavy on his shoulders.
He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions. When you walk past the soccer field, he turns to sneak a glance at your face. There’s sadness in your eyes, but a smile on your lips. There’s a strength, there, too, that he finds starkly beautiful. You hold onto him tightly, and together, you make it through the park, all the way to your apartment.
He leaves you at the door with a quiet goodnight and a promise to see each other the next day for the regular study session. The exam is on Tuesday, so it’ll be his last excuse to spend time with you like that. He walks home in silence, through the park, and tries not to stare at the soccer goal. That night, he dreams of soccer fields and hockey rinks and you.
…..
When Oscar gets home just before your normal study time the next day, there’s music pouring out of the front door before he even opens it. It’s louder once he does. The house seems mostly empty, but someone is either having a very good or very bad day. He wavers in the doorway, wondering if he should call you. He’s still there when you walk in behind him, bumping into his shoulder. He turns to look at you, eyes wide. Yours are even wider.
“I don’t think we can study here,” he says, frowning.
You shake your head. “We can go to my place.”
So he packs up his things into his backpack, avoiding whatever is going on in Charles’ room that has him causing permanent damage to his eardrums. Then the two of you take off down the street, towards your apartment. He slows only slightly at the turn for the park, waiting to see what you’ll do. You turn down the path through the park and loop your arm in his. He looks away in the hopes that you don’t see the smile that creeps across his face.
Your apartment is, honestly, exactly how he’d always pictured it. It’s soft and cozy and colorful. There’s a well loved, overstuffed couch in the living room, a little table in the kitchen, and so much stuff on the walls. Music posters, photos blown up big, and… collages. Some in frames, some tacked up with tape, scattered across the place. Perfect mixtures of magazine cutouts and pieces of paper and he swears he even spots a dried flower on one.
“Wow,” he says, studying the one that hangs over the couch. “These are so cool.”
You’re in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and you turn over your shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. I made a lot of them when I was injured. I had nothing better to do, yknow?”
He sees a chunk of an x-ray in the corner of the piece, and his heart twists. You walk up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. When he looks at you, you’re smiling softly. He likes that look on your face. He wants to keep it there, and suddenly he dreads studying physics because he knows how stressed you’re going to be.
“We’ll have to make some sometime,” you say, nudging your elbow against his. “There’s a billion hockey magazines in a closet at your house.”
“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body,” he says.
You laugh. “That’s the fun of collages. You don’t have to.”
He settles in on one end of the couch, and you settle into the other. The soft light of the lamp in the living room makes it feel warm, the same way your hand in his had felt the day before. He tries so, so hard to focus on physics. It’s just… he’s in your apartment, and you’re there, knees curled to your chest, brow furrowed in concentration, and… something about this feels so soft.
He clears his throat, opens his textbook, and flips to the review questions. “Alright. Ready?”
The two of you study for hours. Oscar doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point you move closer, so you can look off the same textbook. Physics terms and formulas and theories rattle around in his brain, all wrapped up with thoughts of you. The sun goes down, and the windows to the outside grow dark. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay right here.
“My brain is full,” you mumble, between a yawn.
You drop your head against his shoulder, and his heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he knows it. You’re just tired, that’s all.
He nods in agreement. “Mine too. I can go home. We should get a good night’s sleep.”
You nod against his shoulder and then make no move to pull away. “In a minute,” you say. “Your arm is comfy.”
Butterflies- actual, real life butterflies, he swears it- swirl in his stomach. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen you fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder during movie nights, watched you curl up on Max’s bed and take a nap while everyone around you talked. He’s just another friend, another shoulder to lean on. This doesn’t mean anything, and besides, it shouldn’t mean anything, so why is his stomach swirling with butterflies, and why does his face feel hot?
When you finally pull away and help him pack up his things, he hopes you can’t tell how he’s feeling. You walk him to the door and wait for him to put on his shoes and jacket. It’s just so you can lock it behind him, he knows. But then you reach up and smooth the hair from his forehead and laugh, and his chest aches fiercely, and god, he could kiss you- not even really kiss you, just on the forehead or the cheek would do. He says goodnight instead and steps out into the hallway, then makes his feet carry him down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.
He walks past the soccer field and finds himself hoping that maybe you felt it too.
He gets up early the next morning and finds Max in the kitchen with coffee ready to go. He grabs two travel mugs- his, and yours. Max raises an eyebrow as he spreads cream cheese on a bagel. Oscar does the same in response.
“You were out late last night,” Max says, eyeing him.
He doesn’t bother asking how Max knows when he got back. He feels like it’s written plainly all over his face. He can feel the weight of you against his shoulder. Can feel your hand brushing his hair from his face. Can feel how much he wants to lean in. Max must see it.
“I was studying,” he says, carefully.
“With Bunny,” Max suggests, and Oscar nods. “But not here.”
“No, we got here and Charles was blasting music,” Oscar explains. “So we went to her place.”
“He failed an exam,” Max says, face scrunched up. “Well. He assumes he did. You know Charles.”
Oscar nods. Max is staring at him as he pours hot coffee into mugs. He’s not sure what the team captain is looking for, but he hopes he doesn’t find it.
“She told you,” he says, quietly, and Oscar looks up from the mugs, nearly spilling coffee all over.
He clears his throat. “Yeah.”
Max nods and finally turns back to his bagel. “Good.”
That’s that, then. He puts the lids on the coffee, and Max sends him out the door with two bagels- one for him, one for you. He almost feels like he’s passed some sort of test when Max gives him a sharp nod as he turns to leave, but he’s not sure which test it would even be.
He finds you in the lobby before the exam, hands off the coffee and the bagel and tells you he knows you’re going to do well. You smile brightly at him, and he swears it lights up the whole building.
“We’ve got this,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And if we don’t, we’ll retake it together.”
He nods in agreement. The two of you sit on a bench and eat your bagels and drink your coffee. Oscar wishes he could attribute the warmth in his belly to the drink, but he’s pretty sure it has more to do with the way you smile up at him and the weight of your shoulder against his. Either way, it sends him into the exam with a good feeling, and that’s really all he can ask for.
…..
Oscar finds himself feeling sad when the holiday break rolls around this year. It’s a weird feeling. For years, he’s looked forward to December for this reason. The exams are over, he gets time off from school, a chance to go home or have his family visit, and a break from everything. He realizes, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lando lugging a suitcase around, that he’s going to miss his friends when they leave for the break. It’s been two years since the last time he called his teammates friends.
He drags himself out of bed and into the hallway, because if Lando’s leaving, he wants to say goodbye. And sure enough, there he is, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and taking an enormous suitcase down the stairs one step at a time. Oscar spots you on the ground floor, watching in amusement, and he waves at you.
“Morning, Oscar,” you call out. “Ready for the break?”
He scrubs a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Yeah.”
You raise your brows. “That was convincing,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your lips.
He bites back a laugh, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having called him out. “It’ll be nice to see my family. Just weird to have everyone gone, yknow?”
Lando, who’s made it down three stairs, turns to look at him. “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” He coos, and Oscar feels his face go red.
Before he can jump to his own defense or try to come up with something to tease Lando about, you speak up from the bottom of the steps.
“Yeah, and we’re gonna miss him, Lando,” you say, shaking your head. “Jesus. Oscar, would you just shove him and the giant suitcase down the steps?”
Oscar’s trying not to dwell on you saying you’ll miss him, too. It shouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it does right now. It makes his stomach twist. He keeps the smile plastered on his face and forces a laugh, and Lando glares at him as menacingly as Lando can glare at anyone. He brushes off the feeling and grabs the side handle of Lando’s suitcase, then helps him lug it down the stairs. Lando shoots him a smile to replace the glare as they get it to the bottom floor. Then he pats him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair. Oscar winces.
“Bye, Piastri,” he says, grinning. “Have a good break.”
He pulls the giant suitcase towards the front door. You stay standing there, even as Lando steps outside and sighs at the sight of the front steps. Oscar steps off the staircase and lands near you, arms swinging at his sides.
“You’re staying here all break, right?” You ask.
He nods. “My family will be here Monday, though.”
“Nice,” you say, smiling wide. “Well. I bought more TimTams and Vegemite, so they should feel right at home.”
Warmth bubbles up in Oscar’s chest. “Thanks.”
You nod. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’re holding your breath, too. You shift back and forth on your feet, and then before he knows it, you’re against his chest, arms around him. He barely has time to hug you back before you pull away, and that’s the only bad part about it. He would hold you forever, if he could, he thinks. And honestly, that’s terrifying.
You pull away, and he hopes you don’t notice how red his cheeks are. “Bye, Oscar,” you say, almost shyly.
“Bye, Bunny,” he says back.
Lando calls your name from the front door, and you scurry off. He sighs. He swears he can still smell your shampoo, and then hates himself for knowing what your shampoo even smells like. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turns back towards the stairs, ready to head back to his room, crawl back into bed, and go back to sleep. He jumps in shock when he finds Alex and George standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing.
“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Alex,” George says.
“Quite interesting, I’d say,” Alex nods, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
Oscar rolls his eyes and takes the stairs two at a time. “You guys are creepy.”
They both just laugh as Oscar pushes past them and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, flops down onto the bed face first, and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears Logan’s car start up- the guy really needs to get the thing fixed, it’s loud as hell, but at least it still runs. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that it’ll only be a few weeks until you’re back in town. Then he wonders when having you around became so important to him. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and goes to sleep.
notes: a lil osc pov!! thank you for reading! check out the winter break blurb, or find part 4 here!
tags: to be added or removed just let me know!! crossed out names were unable to be tagged- if it’s yours, shoot me a message!
main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5
series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofswordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom
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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months
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Abby Anderson modern day head-cannons
Parings - Abby Anderson if the apocalypse never happened
Tw- some nsfw at the end
An- this is both In general headcannons and relationships
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Abbys father is a neurosurgeon so mans is loaded bro 😭- abby def went to one of those hella expensive private schools.
She’s kinda old and new money
So Abby can go three ways ok
The typical basic blonde IT girl
Straight girl on the weight lifting team
Muscular masculine lesbian
I think we all know which one makes the most sense.
Abby wouldn’t come out to her father about being a lesbian until like high school
I’m pretty sure her mom died in the beginning of the apocalypse but it could be safe to assume that she’s also a doctor in modern day
Abby would of gone to a really good university and become a neurosurgeon like her father
While in medical school she met Nora and Mel - they knew Owen and manny and that’s how the group all met
She would of definitely done sports - so sports Abby did would be
Weightlifting
Basketball
Ice hockey
She’ll go online and see the thirst edits and comments about her and laugh because she’s not only flattered but she’ll find multiple women who are her type and like their comments.
HEAVVVYYY against college parties like girly is a student athlete and on a scholarship for her medical degree — she’s always studying and doesn’t want to do anything to ruin her scholarship
After she gets her degree she works in a well known and high paying hospital
Got a German Shepard and named her Alice
Graduated top of her class
A big football fan and if her school has a football team she would go to every home game.
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You and Abby most likely met in college.
you two met after both taking a same extracurricular.
she had to actually prep talk herself into actually going up to you and talking to you
once she actually asked you out she was freaking out over wether or not you actually liked her (she had Nora help her pick out an outfit)
after a few dates she awkwardly asked if she could be your girlfriend. You said yes of-course
At first you thought the relationship would be hard since Abby’s always busy but much to your surprise she always made time for you
After like a week together she took you to meet her parents, you were anxious as her parents were well known medical professionals but they welcomed you with open arms
Once she introduced you to the friend group you knew you were stuck with her.
Is overly protective of you- a guy hits on you she’s passive aggressively getting into his face. Some girls are starting drama with you - she’ll tell them to fuck off . A teacher is refusing to take your paper late - Abby will go have a one on one possibly bribe the teacher to take your paper.
If you did well on exams she’ll take you out to a nice resturant however if you did poor she’ll reassure you take you to a comfort food restaurant and help you study next time.
Outside Abby’s the sweetest most gentle person you’ve ever seen however in the bedroom it’s completely different
Abby is the type of woman to take her time devouring you. She would spend hours between your thighs with her tongue on your clit and her thick fingers pumping in and out of you painfully slow
She can either be soft and loving whispering sweet nothings into your ear taking her time with you compaired to when she lost an important game or is stressed out about exams she’ll fuck you like no tomorrow, denying you your orgasm and degrading you, with her thick strap deep into you
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rootbeersturniolo · 1 month
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the first part of this series.
pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: the new semester at chicago university started with nothing more than the troubles of relationships, rumors, and studies. everything was going fine until the death of their bestfriend. at the end of the day there’s only one question they can ask; would you love somebody enough to kill for them?
warnings: mentions of death and murder, alcohol, drinking, semi public smut, homophobia, assault.
-
Chicago, Illinois. The place I’ve been living in for the past nineteen years. Most people look at our city as a tourist attraction. The scenery catching many visitors eyes as they stopped through the states of the northeast.
What made it so interesting? I wouldn't know. There was much beauty to the actual city, I'll admit that, but there was more mystery under the rooted trees of Illinois.
My life in Chicago was something I’ve grown comfortable with, almost like a routine.
Walking back from school with my best friends while the wind entangled our hair, a group of people I cherished with every fibre of my being.
I met Natalie first, she was one of the popular girls in our elementary school and I was… not. But one day she asked me to color with her and she’s been stuck by my side since, like sisters.
We argued occasionally, like sisters did, but other than that we’ve been close ever since. We’ve made it through middle school, high school, and now we were attending college together, along with the a few other members of our group.
Through Natalie I met Jackson, yet another person who I considered to be too popular for my presence, but somehow the dynamic worked.
The two of them have been on and off since freshman year of high school. Though, no matter how much they went through they always ended up together again. No amount of tears would stop that.
Nobody even considered what they had to be a relationship. Most wouldn’t even consider it love. They loved each other obviously, they’d known each other for so long. But they’ve never been in love, but in lust instead.
It was not a relationship I ever aspired for.
When I was left to play by myself at recess, Nick had approached me, his atmosphere was immediately welcoming and we became swing buddies for the rest of middle school—Even when it was considered childish.
Nick was someone I could tell everything to, there was never judgement between the two of us and it was always comfortable, safe.
Clicking with Nicks brother Chris was easy, him and I were practically the same person and we shared so many similar thought processes. It was like a brother-sister dynamic, sure, there was bickering and teasing, but at the end of the day I knew he’d be there for me. His words of affirmation got me through high school, but for a while Matt was just sort of… there.
He was never one to start a conversation, even getting him to actively participate in one was a stretch. He was reserved and mainly kept to himself. I didn’t mind though, because when he did speak it was sweet.
Our dynamic started to change our junior year of highschool. Through raging hormones, and the fact we were always together, it was inevitable that our friendship would soon change.
Now we’d been together for two years. The best two years of my life.
Matt was my first boyfriend, and he was the perfect example of how every boyfriend should be. He was loving, caring, and would do anything for me. I’ll never forget the day that changed everything.
“Chris! What are you doing?” Nick asked, visibly annoyed at his brother’s actions. Chris just rolled his eyes in response. “It’s a small bite Nick calm down, you’re acting like I ate the whole thing.”
Nick scoffed. “Have you heard of asking? Last time I checked we weren’t obligated to share food since we were in the womb thirteen years ago.” He rolled his eyes.
“Hey guys—” Matt started speaking from beside me, not getting far before his brother interrupted him. Like usual.
“It’s ice cream Nick, not gold.” Chris replied as he takes another bite of his own fro yo, clearly not understanding or caring for his brother’s frustrated reaction.
Our group had decided to bike to the local ice cream diner on the warm summer day, especially because those days aren’t common in Chicago.
“Guys let’s—” Matt’s cut off yet again, even after raising the volume behind his voice. I look to him briefly, not wanting to stare but also feeling bad for the boy.
The rest of the group eventually continues their conversation, not even acknowledging Matt or his attempts to speak and it’s clear he’s defeated—his head laying low as he mumbled something to himself.
I felt a slight sting to my heart looking at him like that, it wouldn’t feel right to join in with the rest of the group. “Hey Matt?”
His head perked up, he made eye contact with me as a slight glimmer of hope re entered his face. “Yeah Charlotte?” He asked.
I smile, him and I aren’t close, but for whatever reason seeing him happy made me happy. “What were you trying to say earlier?”
Ever since that simple summer day, getting ice cream with the group, Matt and I had a newfound understanding for one another.
He wasn’t always listened to, getting caught behind his over achieving brothers in almost every aspect of his life, but I would always be there to tell him that he’s doing enough—that he is enough.
This wasn’t a one sided thing though, I had often struggled with surges of sadness. There wasn’t always a reason but it could easily get to a point where I’d lose all motivation for everything and feel incredibly helpless—and maybe I was a little helpless, but I always had Matt there to try to help and that’s what stuck with me.
He’d clean my room if it felt too overwhelming to complete, or just sit in silence next to me when I didn’t have it in me to speak to him. It’s a mutual relationship that’s carried by balance on both ends and it works for us.
This general understanding of one another has made us… close.
-
“Mm— fuck just like that.” I let out a muffled moan as my eyes rolled into the back of my head, a familiar hand covering my mouth as our bodies moved in a rhythm that suits us.
My leg begins to ache slightly as it’s propped up on a toilet seat, but it’s impossible to focus on anything when Matt’s thrusting his hips into me at a pace I can’t stay quiet in—one hand is placed gently on my lower stomach as leverage for him to thrust impossibly deeper into me while his other hand holds a firm pressure on my swollen lips, keeping me silent.
Public sex was not something on my bucket list, but the combination of my boyfriend's neediness and my inability to focus on anything other than his hands… it was kind of inevitable.
“Stay quiet baby, cmon.” He speaks quietly, clearly fighting back moans of his own as his tip continually makes contact with my g-spot, the angle only making the feeling more intense.
One thing about a quickie is that it needs to be quick, the loud music pouring through the hinges of the door serving as a constant reminder that we aren’t entirely alone.
I’m unable to speak fully, but Matt knows me well enough to know I’m close by the way my back arches away from him and my toes curl slightly onto the seat.
He also knows exactly what it takes for me to finish quick.
The boys lips make gentle contact with my exposed neck, sucking at a spot he’s grown comfortable with while his hand on my lower stomach inches even lower. “You gonna cum for me here? Getting fucked senseless in a public bathroom turn you on?” He asks.
Once again I’m unable to reply, if I speak, I moan—and that’s the last thing we need with our whole friend group out in the living room, oblivious to our current position.
His fingers make a light contact with my throbbing clit, causing my head to fall back into his shoulder as my body shutters at the touch. Subconsciously I clench onto him, nearing my orgasam already, what’s unfortunate is that he’s unable to mask the moan that escapes his lips.
I love his noises, always have—but right now? I wish the fucker would shut the hell up.
He looked at me with an apology riddled in his blue eyes, and it’s hard not to forgive him with his fingers that pick up the pace on my clit and his hips that continue to slam into my walls.
Definitely forgiven.
I grab on the sink in front of me to stabilize myself, my orgasam still threatening to release onto the length inside of me, my mouth widening at the sensation coursing through my body. He leans in to whisper into my ear once more. “Can you be quiet cumming on my cock pretty girl?”
I nod almost too enthusiastically as the build up in my stomach becomes too overwhelming to ignore, squeezing my eyes shut and biting my lip, trying so desperately to stay quiet—although with Matt’s slip up, it might be a lost cause.
My abs clench as shocks of pleasure shoot through my muscles, the feelings of Matt’s chest pressed against my back has me smiling at the closeness of it all, the small amount of intimacy that can come with a bathroom quickie.
He finishes practically right after me. He also got off knowing how good he made me feel, that was his favorite part.
With one more kiss planted on my temple he pulls out, discarding the condom in the small trashcan while I slide my pants back on, pulling down my shirt slightly to fully cover myself again.
We look to each other once more, mentally preparing ourselves for the walk of shame, knowing Matt’s loud ass will be teased by our friends awaiting our return. I place a finger on his chest. “This is your fault Matthew just letting you know.” He smiles slightly before opening the door and walking out to the slightly less crowded living room.
Our friend group resides in the living room, sprawled around the floor and the couch, most of them at least five drinks in.
Matt’s hand stayed interlocked with mine as we occupied our recent position on the couch beside the window cill littered with our old drinks.
I knew someone was going to mention something regarding Matt and I’s disappearance to the bathroom, but the last thing I needed was the recently found annoying voice from across the room to bring it up.
“Did you two have fun?” Natalie asked, raising her eyebrow as she leaned further against her seat. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head, taking my previous cup from the window.
She clearly sensed my annoyance, but she was drunk, and she was also Natalie which meant she didn’t care enough to move on.
“Better than doing it with Collin’s in there.” She chuckled lightly, her flushed cheeks turning into a smile as she ran her fingers throughout her dirty blonde locks.
My grip on Matt’s hand tightened out of pure frustration and embarrassment. At a party full of half of our class, and this is what she wanted to talk about. The rumor had been spreading like wildfire, and there was only one person to blame.
Natalie.
Her recent inquiries and speculations over me hooking up with our professor for extra credit instead of just doing the work myself.
"We've all been there before, there's no shame." Natalie shrugged as she brought the red solo cups to her matching red lips. Her eyes were heavy and her words were slow, more relaxed than her usual personality.
l let out a soft sigh as my gaze traced towards her.
This wasn't the night I wanted to talk about anything regarding Natalie's theories about my personal life. Even though they were obviously wrong, and everyone else could vouch for that.
She looked at me with her drunken eyes, her expression screaming I don't believe you as she took another drink.
"I don't blame you, he's hot."
"You're just getting ridiculous." I finally snapped, my jaw slightly clenched as I turned to her once more. Suddenly the attention was only on me. She furrowed her eyebrows in surprise. "Do you have anything better to do?” I shook my head.
It was becoming hard to pretend that her constant comments weren't driving me crazy. Even if I knew that they shouldn't, and even if I knew that what she was saying was just her own personal beliefs.
The room quickly turned silent as my eyes remained on Natalie. Her cheeks flushed red. Either from the alcohol or being put on the spot for the first time in her life.
"Excuse me?" She replied, setting down her drink as a soft laugh left her lips. I let out a frustrated breath before pushing myself from the couch, letting my feet take me as far away from her as possible. Even if that was just the kitchen.
I placed my hands on the counter, taking a deep breath as the crowd pushed around me, pouring endless combinations of beverages into their recycled red cups.
Only a few moments had passed before a pair of ringed hands came in contact with my waist. I let out a muffled sigh as Matt turned me around, my face coming in contact with his. He smiled gently, running his hands along my hipbone.
"You ok?" He mumbled, scanning my face as I rolled my eyes with a shrug. I crossed my arms over my chest before I finally nodded. "I'm fine, she's drunk." I replied.
“Doesn’t mean she’s not annoying you.” He replied, his cold rings continuing to glide along my hips as his eyes stay fixated on my own.
He’s right of course, Natalie became more and more annoying as time went on, her inflated self esteem made it impossible to be around her sometimes—but she’s still apart of the group that stays rooted in middle school friendships.
“I’m just sick of the shit.” I pause, taking a quick swig of whatever random substance resides on the counter next to me. “But professor Collin’s? Really?” I sighed.
He frowned gently, pushing a strand of hair behind my face as he continued to look down at me. His eyes had been slightly glazed over from the alcohol mixed with our recent events.
“I don’t love the way he talks to you.” He said, quietly enough to avoid anyone overhearing this conversation. The rumor was already spread, no need to continue to slander my name.
I roll my eyes. “He’s a nice guy with a wife and kids. I don’t think he’s an actual weirdo he just…” I paused my words. “He chooses the wrong way to say things sometimes”
“He also wants to get in your pants.” He blurts out slightly.
I can’t be bothered to continue this conversation anymore, we’ve talked about it before but I stand by the innocence of the teacher-student dynamic I share with my professor. “He’s not the only one.” I tease, pulling Matt closer to me by the loops on him jeans, his hips connecting with my own.
“Ok, weirdo we get it.” He shakes his head, a smile plastered on his face. “Why don’t we go back to the bathroom?” I asked, a faux frown plastered on my face as I tugged him impossibly closer. Our bodies pressed together.
He hummed in response before gesturing to our friends back on the couch. “They might think we’re ditching them.” He breathed out, his hands running along my hips.
“I’m okay with that.” I shrugged, a smile taking over my face as my gaze remained on Matt. He chuckled lightly before shaking his head. “Wait until I can treat you right on a real bed, make it worth your while.” He joked.
“I enjoyed it.”
“I did too.” He assured, nodding gently. “But it’s too risky to go back.” He spoke with a raised brow. It was true, it was definitely risky, but it was also so worth it.
Another sigh escaped my lips as I let go off his denim loops, wrapping my arms around my chest. He returned the sigh.
“Hey.” He breathed out, taking my hand off of my chest and interlocking them. “Don’t be mad at me.” He spoke, raising his eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes, starting to speak again before hearing a crash in the living room behind us. I furrowed my eyebrows, letting go of Matt’s hand as I walked from the kitchen towards the noise.
My eyes widened as I saw Bryce on the floor, the familiar boy Josh on top of him, continuing to swing punches like that was all he could do. Matt stood next to me, a heavy breath leaving his lips before rushing forward.
Bryce Reyes was Nicks boyfriend. They’d been together for exactly three months now, and he was one of the best and only additions to our group in a long time.
Always a light to our constant chaotic mess of a group, his smile providing a sense of calm to everyone, especially to Nick. It’s why we all like him so much, anyone Nick likes we like.
Natalie stood from the couch, drunken words leaving her slips as everyone watched the scene unfold in front of them.
“You like fucking boys?” Josh asked before his fists collided with his cheekbone again. The blood on his face was getting more visible by the minute, a panicked Nick stood in the corner of the room. The party went silent.
“Enough—” Matt yelled, placing his hands on Josh’s shoulders, attempting to pull him off of Bryce before he himself was pushed back. My heart raced in my chest.
Matt stood from the ground, frustration on his features as he tried to breakup the fight once more, but nobody paid any attention to him, still focused on the terrifying scene unraveling.
“You’re pathetic.” Josh scoffed, his hands tightening around the collar of Bryce’s shirt, pulling him from the ground.
“He said enough!” Jackson spoke, successfully pulling Josh off of Bryce who laid against the carpet with more than just a bloody nose. His hair was a mess, his eye was already bruising, and he looked like he had been found at the scene of a crime.
His actions were successful, Josh standing up before wiping his own bloody nose, a slight smirk pulling his the side of his mouth. Nick rushed toward Bryce’s side as the party slowly started to resume once again.
I glanced toward my side, a purely pissed off Matt standing with his jaw clenched. It was obvious why he was upset. No one listened to him. He shook his head before turning on his heel.
“Matt, where are you going?” I frowned, taking a step forward but he had already rushed toward the doors of the party. There was no point to try and run after him, he would push me away like he had been recently.
I sighed, running my hands through my hair. I needed to let Matt cool off, and I was fine doing that as long as I knew he was safe.
“Don’t stress.” Chris spoke, walking beside me as he held an empty bottle of vodka, clearly starting to cleanup the mess. “He always comes back.” He shrugged before walking past me.
Chris was my bestfriend, practically my closest, and I loved him. But sometimes I wish he paid more attention to his brother.
It hurt me to see him hurt.
-
My arms slumped against the wooden desk as I groaned lightly, the slight hangover behind my head. The fluorescent lights of the classroom hadn’t been helping either.
I had returned back to my dorm soon after. I hadn’t heard from Matt since, so seeing him for the first time in class was making me more nervous than I should.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he was mad at me for not running after him— I was just trying to help. But then again that’s usually where I seem to go wrong.
The only thing I did know was that Natalie hadn’t returned last night. My only assumption could be that she snuck off with Jackson after the party, and she was still intertwined against his body popping a bottle of pain killers or whatever else it is she does.
They had gotten back together one month ago after their two week separation period. The last time I had seen her she was drooling over him with a bottle of whiskey in her hand.
“Have you seen Natalie?” I asked Chris, furrowing my eyebrows with a soft sigh as I glanced around the room. There was still no trace of her, and the silence filling the air could prove it.
The early mornings of Professor Collin’s American history course were usually filled with recent gossip, and constant giggling.
Today it was silent.
And it was suffocating.
Chris shook his head with a soft shrug before taking his notebook from his bag, turning the pages as the desk beside me soon became occupied. I looked over to see Matt with an undeniable smile crossing over my face as he turned to me.
“You ok?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. He nodded quickly, returning the smile before taking his supplies out as well. I didn’t question him, instead nodding before our professor walked in, his eyes instantly finding mine.
He gave me the usual flustered smile before walking to his desk, turning the projector and preparing for the lecture.
I didn’t mind history, I actually enjoyed it. Though sometimes it got frustrating when my professor couldn’t find the right words to express how well I did on my recent assignment.
The class went by slow. Two hours of endless notes and timelines that I wouldn’t remember by the next day.
“One last question to wrap this up.” Professor Collin’s spoke, an amused smile on his face before his eyes turned to me. “You can answer, right?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.
I furrowed my eyebrow, sighing gently before looking down at my half assed noted. Instead of denying I simply nodded.
“Great!” He exclaimed, walking over toward me as his arms crossed over his chest. “During which war was a Christmas Truce called?” He asked. I took a deep breath, glancing down to my notes before scrunching my face in confusion.
“We didn’t learn that.” I shook my head. He nodded slowly before walking away from my desk. “We didn’t, but we did in my other history class. Which I think you would be interested in.” He spoke again. I sighed.
��I don’t have the time.” I replied, nodding slowly as I tried to change the conversation. The last thing I needed after last night was even more rumors circulating.
Especially when my boyfriend is beside me.
The professor frowned gently, clearly causing a scene in front of the entire class “Come on, you can’t drop one class— for me?” He asked. My eyes widened in embarrassment.
I didn’t respond, instead shaking my head as I swallowed my nerves. I could feel Matt’s eyes against my head like lasers.
“That’s ok.” He sighed again, before turning to the clock on the wall. “Class is over anyway.” He mumbled before sitting in his desk once more. I let out a breath of relief before standing up, sliding my books into my bag as quickly as possible before turning through the door.
-
My book bag was tightly pressed against my shoulders as I walked along the sidewalk of our campus. My eyes people watched with every step I took back to my dorm.
One of my favorite parts about our University was the variety of people that attended. Endless opportunities to make new friends, but for some reason I’ve had the same ones for years.
“Wait up!” A familiar voice called from behind me. I quickly turned around, my expression relaxing once I saw it was only Matt. He gave me a soft smile before running toward me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before walking beside me.
“Let’s do something later.” He suggested as he interlaced our hands together. I liked when he didn’t mention the obvious.
“I can’t, I have to study.” I spoke with a soft sigh, frowning gently as he swung our arms back and forth. He chuckled lightly. “You’d rather study than see me?” He asked.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes. He was so stubborn sometimes. So prone to take everything out of context just to get a kick out of me.
“That isn’t what I said.” I replied as we continued to walk throughout the campus. He shrugged, our arms still swinging in the air. “Then have me over. I’ll help you study.” He spoke.
Another sigh escaped my lips. I wanted to see Matt, I really did, but Natalie would be back at some point tonight.
I also really did have to study.
There wasn’t a response from me, instead simple silence as we approached the building. I turned to him with a raised brow, an amused smirk creeping on his face. “So it’s a yes?”
“Fine.” I sighed, rolling my eyes as he smiled down at me. It was so hard to say no to someone with a smile like that.
-
“You know I love you, right?” Matt asked, playing with the lace fabric of my shirt as I read the book in front of me. Our bodies were intertwined as my back rested against his chest.
I furrowed my eyebrows before nodding, placing my bookmark in between the pages before closing my book. I turned around so I was facing him, my legs over his.
“I know.” I smiled gently, scanning his face with a worried expression. “Why?” I asked, the obvious confusion present in my time. He didn’t reply instead his cheeks filling red before he pulled me closer to him by my waist.
He brought his lips against mine, his hands moving up my sides. I almost melted into his touch instantly, but I wanted an answer.
I pulled away from him, a frown replacing his one blushed expression. “What?” He mumbled, sliding his hand under my shirt gently, letting it rest against the fabric of my jeans.
“Why’d you say that?” I asked, raising my eyebrow as I looked down at him. He shrugged before laughing lightly. “I just wanted to remind you.” He nodded. My eyebrows furrowed.
For whatever reason it felt as though he cut off his own thoughts, but our dynamic worked because I don’t pry, so I’m not going to start now.
He leans in once more, presumably to stop me from asking more questions, but it was easy to get distracted when kissing him.
My hands make their way to his hair, scratching slightly on the back of his head in the way i know always makes him shiver.
Unfortunately, being the boy that he is, he takes this as a sign to begin lifting up my shirt, pulling the fabric up on my back exposing the back of my bra.
“Ok lover boy.” I pull back out of the kiss. “As much as I’d love to continue this I do have to study and you are meant to help me.” I sighed, placing a finger on his chest as I’ve fully leaned away.
He lets out an overdramatic sigh, faking a frown as I pull myself off of him. “If I fail this lit course it will be your fault.” I say, refocusing my attention on the numerous notes displayed in front of me.
“Yeah yeah I get it. Be studious.” Matt sits up, leaning against me as I sort through all the papers that remain unorganized. “What’s this test worth again?” He asks as, resting his chin on my shoulder, his breath on my neck causing a slight chill down my spine.
“It’s like fifteen percent I think but—” I get cut off by the sound of my phone ringing, my mom’s profile picture lighting up the screen.
My relationship with my parents was complicated. I was raised by two workaholics who would rather solve numerous crimes than drive their daughter to her first ballet recital.
I respect it, obviously, but Chicago will always have crime. They do great things and they help people, I just wish it didn’t come at the expense of my childhood.
The phone doesn’t ring for long when I finally pick it up, a smile on my face. “Hey mom what’s up?” I asked, looking at Matt who has a stupid innocent smirk on his face.
As embarrassing as it might be to admit, I was excited my mom was calling me because at least, even if she was out at work, she was still talking to me. I loved talking to my mom—when she wasn’t swamped with cases that is.
“Char sweetie, It’s about Natalie.” She spoke with a tone that terrifies me, one that’s both serious yet cautious—something I wasn’t expecting when answering.
“What’s up? Everything okay?” My eyebrows furrowed, I’m sure Natalie’s fine, she always is. I would place money on her being at Jackson’s place right now with a killer hangover and a dead phone.
“Are you alone right now?” My mom finally asked, causing a sense of worry to course through my stomach. My face must show how i’m feeling because Matt adapts the same expression, one of worry.
“I’m uh, I’m with Matt right now. Are you sure everything’s okay?” I asked, worry fueling my voice as I await a respond.
“Natalie was murdered.”
You know when people say that certain phrases or experiences can freeze time? This was mine.
The rest of the call was a blur, my mom telling me to seek comfort in Matt because she’s swamped with this case, but really I just wanted to hug her, I wanted to hug my mom and have her tell me everything’s okay.
Death is weird. One second, someone’s there. Annoying or not they are there and that feels constant—until it isn’t.
I could find Natalie annoying all I want, and I could continue to be upset over a dumb rumor, but she was family to me, possibly the closest I ever had.
When I hang up the phone I freeze, eyes situated on the sight ahead of me as my brain tries to process this, tears traveling down my cheeks before I can fully comprehend this situation at hand.
Matt gently places his hand on my upper back and the contact was enough to send me over the edge, the build up in my stomach releasing and sobs exiting my mouth. “It’s okay baby It’s okay.”
He doesn’t even know why I’m crying, I doubt he heard the phone but he’s still here for me regardless. “She’s gone Matt, they said she was—” I choke, trying to gain composure for the boy. “She was murdered.”
I’m simply a mess, my stomach hurts from the muscles tensing at each sob I let out. Matt’s hand just rubs soft strokes on my back as my head falls into his lap.
She’s gone and the last thing I did was bitch her out. I can’t get that night back.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
a/n: sincerely, sienna and grace
taglist: @lovingmattysposts @sturniolho @greatooglymooglyyy @fake-sturniolos @mayhem-72 @luv4kozume @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosbxtch @wurlibydominicfike @bernardsbendystraws @txssvx @thecynthh @biimpanicking @junnniiieee07 @stazsi @mazzystar111 @gnxosblog @imwetforyourmom @stonermattsgf @paibey @lovelottos @creamoncreamoncream2 @m4ttschewtoy @sturnioloslife @bitchydragonparadise @anlqq @y0urm4m @bernardenjoyer @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @cherrypostsposts @thenickgirl
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janeyseymour · 2 months
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Secrets
hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.
summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.
WC~9.4k
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You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.
Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.
And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.
You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.
(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”
“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)
After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.
“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”
“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”
“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.
“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”
“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”
“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”
“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”
“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”
“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”
“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”
“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”
“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.
“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”
By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.
“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”
You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”
“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”
“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”
“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”
“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”
The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.
You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.
“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”
“You’re still on that?”
“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.
“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”
“Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”
You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.
“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”
You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.
The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.
The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.
“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”
All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.
“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.
You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.
You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.
“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.
The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.
“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”
“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”
You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”
“Did you need any help at all yet?”
“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.
“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”
“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.
“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway. 
Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.
You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”
She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.
As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.
“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”
“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”
“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”
“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.
“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”
“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.
“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”
“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”
She nods. “Whatever.”
The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.
Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.
“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”
“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”
“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.
“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.
Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.
The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.
On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.
As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.
“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.
“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.
“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”
All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her. 
“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”
You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.
“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”
“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”
“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”
“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”
“I don’t-”
“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”
“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.
“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”
“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”
Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.
“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.
“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”
“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.
“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.
“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”
After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”
She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.
“Thank you,” she mutters.
“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”
“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.
Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.
You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.
The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.
You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.
“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.
“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”
“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”
“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song. 
You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.
You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.
“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.
“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.
You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.
Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.
Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.
Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.
“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”
“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”
The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.
The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.
“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”
Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”
Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.
“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”
With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.
That night, Ava calls you.
“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.
“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”
You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.
You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.
“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”
“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.
“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.
So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.
The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.
“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”
“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”
“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.
“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”
“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.
You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”
“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”
“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”
“Thank you,” you smile again.
That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.
As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.
  You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…
And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.
She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.
Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here. 
It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.
There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.
You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.
“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.
“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”
“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”
“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”
“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”
“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”
“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.
You blush and shrug.
“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.
“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”
“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.
“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”
“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”
“God, I hope so.”
You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.
Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does. 
“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”
“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”
“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.
“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”
“It’s not fair,” you whine.
“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”
You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.
“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”
And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.
Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.
“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.
“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”
“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”
“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”
“Thanks, hun.” 
With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.
You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.
A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.
Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.
I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.
Girl, say less.
She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.
You sleep like a baby that night.
The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.
“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.”
You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.
“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”
“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.
“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.
You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”
The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.
“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”
“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.
“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”
Everyone silently urges her to go on.
“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.
Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.
“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.
“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.
“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”
“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”
You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.
“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”
“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”
The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.
“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.
When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”
“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.
“This better be quick. I have to-”
“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.
Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.
“Well, was it?”
You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”
“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.
“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”
“Ava, I actually have-”
“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”
“Fine.”
The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.
When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.
“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”
“Thank you,” you grin.
“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”
You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.
“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”
“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”
“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”
You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.
At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.
“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.
“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”
“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.
“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”
You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?
“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.
“Hm?”
“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”
“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”
“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.
You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.
You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.
When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.
“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”
You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.
“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”
“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.
She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.
“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.
By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.
“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.
“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.
“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her. 
She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you. 
“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time. 
She snaps out of her trance.
“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.
She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.
Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.
“Oh, god,” she whispers.
“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.
“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”
“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”
“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”
“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”
“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”
“Oh yeah?” you ask her.
“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.
Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”
“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”
“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.
That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.
Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s. 
The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out. 
But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.
“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.
You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.
“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”
“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”
“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”
You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.
“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”
“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.
The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.
“Wow,” Jacob whistles. 
“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”
“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit. 
“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.”
“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”
“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.
“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”
You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.
Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.
You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.
You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.
“Hey,” she says gently.
You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.
“Eat,” she instructs.
“Not hungry,” you shrug.
“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”
You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."
“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”
You look at them with a sad smile.
“The staff put some cards in there too.”
“That’s nice,” you say numbly.
“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”
“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”
“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”
“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”
You shrug. “I ruined it though.”
“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”
You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”
“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”
You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.
“Do you wanna see where this goes?”
“I do,” you say softly.
Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.
The two of you pull back, cheeks red.
“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.
454 notes · View notes
ventismacchiato · 1 year
Text
mr. oblivious
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The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.
scaramouche x g!n reader
established relationship, married, modern teacher au
2.7k words
a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk
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It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.
You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.
So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.
It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.
Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.
Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.
You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.
You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.
“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”
“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”
Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.
“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”
“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.
“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?
“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.
And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.
A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.
“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.
“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”
“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.
You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.
You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.
“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”
“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“
“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”
So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?
Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.
“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”
“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.
“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”
“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”
“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.
“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.
“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.
“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”
The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”
Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.
The moment he left all hell broke loose.
“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”
“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"
“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”
You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.
Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.
“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.
“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.
“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”
“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”
“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”
“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.
“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.
“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.
Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.
The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.
Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.
“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.
“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.
“I’m so winning this bet–”
“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.
At least it looked pretty.
“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”
“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.
“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”
“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.
“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.
“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”
“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.
“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”
“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”
“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”
“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”
Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.
“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.
“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.
“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.
“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.
Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.
“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.
Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!
“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”
“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.
“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”
“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.
“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”
“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.
“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”
“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.
“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.
“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.
“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”
“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates
You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.
Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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adore-laur · 5 months
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HOME IS A FEELING
— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃
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——
"Don't turn around." 
The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.
"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around." 
"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good." 
You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country." 
It's not an exaggeration or falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.
Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero." 
You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door. 
You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave." 
"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us." 
Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up. 
A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist. 
"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. 
The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive. 
Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you. 
Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there. 
Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those?        
A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.
Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep. 
You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own. 
Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to? 
He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of it still make your heart race.
Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.
Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth. 
"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat. 
You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to you now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last? 
Snap out of it! 
"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat. 
Finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours. 
"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry. 
"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."
"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts." 
The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight. 
"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends. 
They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated. 
"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?" 
You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak." 
"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one." 
Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring. 
Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone. 
"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again. 
You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? 
When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response. 
He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying. 
His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me." 
"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. 
Harry huffs and sits in his seat. 
Everything used to be so easy with him. 
                                             —— 
                                  Two Years Ago
It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door. 
"Knock knock." 
In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked." 
Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there." 
"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you." 
He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too." 
"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table." 
"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow. 
"Don't fall asleep."
"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night." 
"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."
After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway. 
Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you. 
Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful. 
—— 
You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is. 
Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair. 
This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers. 
You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner. 
When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open, and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text, only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later. 
You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks. 
"Were my hands dirty or something?" 
Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there? 
"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously. 
Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned. 
He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?" 
Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked." 
"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice. 
"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?" 
"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school." 
Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?" 
"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself." 
He asked about you? No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program." 
Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?" 
A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink? 
You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision." 
He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time." 
Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet. 
"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 
He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean." 
You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day." 
He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to." 
"You don't have a roommate?"
"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space." 
Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.
"I know. Don't know why I even asked." 
It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading. 
Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom." 
You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow." 
He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please." 
It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.
"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation. 
Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete. 
Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well. 
He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy. 
"What did we do wrong?" 
                                           —— 
                 Three Months After Graduation
The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend who's not even close to him? 
Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel. 
Your weak spot was him, and you were his. 
You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?" 
"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try." 
He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love. 
"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly." 
Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way." 
"Fine," you repeated. 
You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run? 
He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home." 
The door slammed shut, and reality sunk in. 
—— 
The open sign of the diner flickers below. 
"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him. 
"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit." 
The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on." 
He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face." 
In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other." 
He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me, you know that. The feeling never disappeared no matter how much I pushed it down." 
You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel." 
"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you." 
It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out. 
"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after." 
Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other." 
He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." 
The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong. 
The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?" 
He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mum, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp." 
"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach. 
"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?" 
It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain? 
"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again." 
You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.
"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me." 
A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either." 
"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?" 
You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."
"What now? We're back to being strangers?" 
"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you." 
You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you. 
"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else." 
It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without a proper goodbye.
"You can hold me." 
And so he does for the last time. 
Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to — his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely winded around you, squeezing the sides of your body. Breathing you in like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other. 
You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you — every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him. 
"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat. 
Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same." 
You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?" 
"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles." 
Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony. 
He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway." 
You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car." 
He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.
Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on. 
"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better. 
Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters. 
"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.
"Now we're both crying."
He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks." 
"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened." 
You're only trying to convince yourself at this point. 
"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?" 
His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either? 
Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.
"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you? 
"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you." 
You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean." 
He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car. 
"Wait."
He freezes. "Yeah?"
Don't make it harder.
Leave. 
Don't hurt yourself. 
Yet the way he looks at you is enough to ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."
Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.
A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge. 
Why? 
Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away. 
You still mean so much to me. 
—— 
Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories with Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening. 
Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him. 
The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you. 
That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it. 
Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly? 
—— 
The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit. 
The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped onto it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you would steal his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you. 
- January 29th - 
Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love from the moment she walks into a room? 
Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul. 
I hope she sees the same thing. 
- June 6th - 
We graduated! We're finally done with high school!
When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms. 
College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other. 
I always have time for her. 
- August 2nd - 
I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology. 
She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it. 
If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again. 
Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later. 
Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mum's house so he could sleep better at night. 
So he can be reminded of home. 
It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. His home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you. 
Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go. 
The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart. 
——
495 notes · View notes
myeagleexpert · 2 months
Text
𝕸𝖞 𝕳𝖔𝖑𝖞 𝕷𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙
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Yandere ex bad boy x reader When a former bad boy gets out of prison and finds you, the light of his life, he decides he would never let you go again.
cw: delusional yandere, creppy, clingy, no use of yn, reader is stressed and doesn't love yandere but is with him just because he's a stress reliever, the straight-laced girl gets involved with an ex badboy, use of pet names “princess , love”, stalking, insecurity, thoughts of getting married, beginning of a relationship, religious themes at the beginning (youth meeting), very soft at the beginning because the longer you stay together the more he develops an obsession.
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"I will marry you". You would be grateful to hear this from a long-term relationship….but hearing this on the first day of your first official relationship?? Who would have the audacity to ask you that??
Marc, your new boyfriend. He is of average height, with shaved hair and thin. You met him by inviting him to a youth meeting at your church, and since he wanted to embrace his new good guy phase, he clearly went. And it wouldn't take long for you to regret that decision.
Marc is strangely strange, like a criminal in interrogation, already anticipating the argument he would have with the lawyer. He has an anxious look on his face every time you meet, and the pressure he has placed on his shoulders to be the “perfect boyfriend” requires him to be honest with you. Everyone knows and feels that pleasant and cozy atmosphere when a couple gets to know each other more and more, opening up little by little, leaving themselves vulnerable to the person their heart burns so much but…. I don't want to ruin this phase, but… he opened up about his past and it totally changed your image of him. How messing with delinquent people influenced him, how he left his family and ran away from home, how his other two serious relationships were toxic and abusive and hurt him psychologically, how he spent time in jail when they caught him with drugs , how he abandoned the will to live….
Until he met you and everything changed.
“You are the light of my life” “I only see my future by your side”
Of all the years he appeared in your life, he appeared just when you were killing yourself studying for a place at the college of your dreams! How much sacrifice! So much pressure! So much stress! The year you followed an intense study routine and practically isolated yourself from the world to study was the year he appeared…as a distraction.
You were so stressed that you needed a distraction on your side. After all, you need to live your youth too, don’t you? It won't be anything serious, you don't have time for that princess, it will just be a momentary relief, just a little flig.
Not if it's up to him.
In fact, you "met" in high school, from different classes, he uses and insists on this argument every time you say that you haven't known each other long enough. "But we never spoke….". "But we talked through our eyes!" You swear you can count on the fingers of your left hand how many times you've actually seen him.
Upon leaving the cold and degrading prison and feeling completely lost, he prayed to the heavens about what direction to ask for in life and coincidentally your profile appeared on his Instagram!
"As soon as I saw your profile, I knew you were different and would change my life" he tells the story of how he met his precious girlfriend for the millionth time, with the same dreamy sigh as always.
He spent 8 months just observing you, what you like and what you don't like, following you, your friends and family on all social networks, he discovered your favorite books and read each one of them trying to be the one you admire most, he discovered where you buy your favorite perfumes and bought the ones you liked the most, to know how you felt and all that… thrown out the window. Because every time Marc looks at you, he forgets everything, the world goes blank and his focus is absolutely you.
He forgets the beautiful words he thought when he was going home, he forgets the way the heartthrob in his book convinced the girl to give him an innocent kiss on the cheek, or how he rehearsed in the mirror how to hold her hand and kiss her without looking so awkward, Marc forget that he has to breathe to continue living but frankly he prefers to be in your air, breathe your oxygen. He also forgets that he had other relationships and shouldn't be so nervous around you.
“Then I said-…hey, I can feel your gaze from here.” “Am I staring at you a lot?? Aah sorry, you’re so beautiful that I couldn’t resist.” he says while kissing your cheek and interrupting anything that would come out of your mouth.
Marc desires to be a devoted follower of his goddess, you. But most of the time it fails miserably. He is in such a trance that he forgets everything and even though the eyes of a passionate puppy that he looks at you with seem cute, you are not guilty of feeling offended. He forgets your favorite place to go out, he forgets your favorite snack, he forgets that sweets make you feel calmer in tpm, he forgets that you canceled a date and gets sulky afterwards blaming you, he forgets that you have bigger goals clear and more important than him and most importantly, he forgets that you have a life before him and whenever you mention an ex-boyfriend he's like "What do you mean you had a boyfriend before me? Who is he? Why did they break up?" So that I don't make the same mistakes he did so that I find him and threaten him to never even look at him again.
and for you so I can make you feel guilty for still having his contact so it's just me and you in the world
Marc is strangely strange, have you ever seen a bear hiding behind a lamp post? So is his jealousy. His blood boils every time you mention a name that isn't his, his body screams mine mine mine, to possessively squeeze your waist and his mouth kisses you until the princess's stressed little head forgets that useless name what you just said after all, I'm the one next to you and I bet he can't make you feel good like I do but…. he hides it well, sometimes, when he forces it. But it's so fking hard to disguise it!
"I met a friend of mine today" "Friend, what friend? A man?" "Then he said- "But wait, love - sorry to interrupt you - since when and where have you known him?" Wasn't this friend of yours on his list where he came from? "I met him in my first year of high school, love, he moved away after that, and I met him again now" " And you hugged him? "Of course, like I do with everyone-" "whyyyyyy?" “Marc he’s my friend and-” “And do you remember his name?”- He asked something simple but that had a strong and heavy meaning behind it.
the name. the name is something so simple but so important, isn’t it?
In a random dawn, he realized that the little princess didn't remember people's names very well and when asked, you replied “They're not important to me, just some extras interacting with me” and while you sleepy laughed at theory made on the spot, his heart squeezed as he remembered that you often forgot his name too.
I'm not so important that you remember my name?
In a random dawn, you told him that you had had other relationships before him, but you never felt anything for them, so you ended it and left and forgot about them. Others, which were hidden and you did crazy things in love for them, regretted them and never saw them again. And that he was your first official boyfriend, the first you took home, the first you took to meet your parents and family, the first you took to your hiding place in the house. He. But as quickly as pride filled his heart, his mind fed the uncertainties and insecurities that keep him awake at night.
Would you live love adventures with him too? Would you regret loving him? Do you have feelings for him or is it a one-sided relationship? Would you forget about him? Would you trade it for one night? Would you… leave?
Marc is so strangely strange that he sometimes blurts out strange and chilling phrases every time you try to subtly open his eyes about the relationship, and in his head they are sweet and romantic, passionate and sincere declarations always sealing the promise with kisses and hugs that are increasingly hard and possessive, but they are red signs in your eyes that something is wrong.
“I don’t know if I could handle that either.” You said as you casually gossiped about a breakup between a couple you saw on the internet, without realizing it Marc's eyes darkened when he heard the word breakup "Listen, if we broke up I…"
"Baby, you know that if it's up to me, we'll never breakup, right?" With a determined look, Marc pulled you onto his lap
"Of course, dear, but if what you did…"
"I would come to your house, take you and lock you away from the world. Because if that's the case, you would never leave me."
"Whoa boy, a little bird wasn't meant to be trapped." When you felt the sincerity of Marc's words, you tried to leave your dear boyfriend's lap, demonstrating that you were serious about the matter, this fact did not go unnoticed by him as he smiled at you and with hearts in his eyes, he kissed you madly until you was breathless and again and again and again….he put you in a bridal carry position, pressing you against his chest with such force that it left you sore
"So i cut the bird's wings and we stay together, love, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. We will never break up, remember what I told you? Let's get married, my beautiful darling."
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bowlofsoob · 7 months
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mr. oblivious
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The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Choi Soobin, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.
choi soobin x gender neutral reader
established relationship, married, teachers au
wc: 2.7k words
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It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.
You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.
So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.
It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Haerin wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.
Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.
Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.
You brought it up to Soobin during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Soobin didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.
You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Soobin, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Beomgyu, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Soobin sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Soobin never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.
“So, what’s your secret?” Beomgyu sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so quiet Soobin to talk to you for longer than a minute?”
“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”
Beomgyu and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.
“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Beomgyu dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”
“Ooh, are we talking about SoobinYn?” Hueningkai grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.
“What the hell is SoobinYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Soobin? Was this their way of welcoming you?
“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.
And to your horror, a little splash of your coffee landed on the other.
A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Yeonjun spilled his drink on Soobin the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.
“Careful,” Soobin mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.
“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Soobin and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”
“It’s fine,” Soobin assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.
You made sure to pointedly ignore Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.
You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Soobin’s name spoken for the nth time that day.
“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Soobin’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Hyein insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”
“Like-like?” Haerin drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“
“We should make them be a couple!” Sunoo giggled, clapping his hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Soobin is not good enough for them but it’s okay.”
So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Soobin were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Soobin really not mentioned being married even once?
Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Soobin really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.
“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”
“Or boyfriends,” Sunoo giggled behind his hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted him on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Soobin’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Beomgyu rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Yeonjun.
“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Yeonjun huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”
“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Taehyun, the school’s gym teacher, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Soobin out on Valentine’s!”
“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.
“Clumsy as always,” Soobin murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Beomgyu who was stifling a laugh.
“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Yeonjun defended, hands on his hips.
“Lunch,” Soobin dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”
The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”
Soobin hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.
The moment he left all hell broke loose.
“SEE! I knew Soobin would make a move!”
“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"
“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”
You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Soobin’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“Soobin?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.
Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.
“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Soobin, leaning back into it as Soobin gestured to his half finished take out box.
“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Soobin work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.
“A crush?” Soobin repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”
“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”
“It never came up,” Soobin mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the kids were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”
“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Soobin to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.
“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Soobin shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.
“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.
Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Soobin’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.
The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.
Hueningkai was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Soobin’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Soobin to groan and sadly flip through it.
“So how long have you two been together?” Hueningkai drawled, leaning forward as Soobin shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Soobin actually sort of talked to, it seems even Hueningkai hadn’t known of their relationship status.
“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Hueningkai as he nodded, turning to make his leave.
“I’m so winning this bet–”
“What bet? HUENINGKAI GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.
At least it looked pretty.
“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”
“Beomgyu, they are children,” Hueningkai mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.
“As their English teacher you should add it into the curriculum to analyze or something,” Beomgyu huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”
“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Hueningkai pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.
“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Beomgyu mused.
“Coward,” Yeonjun reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”
“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.
“Hold up, you’re married?!” Beomgyu shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”
“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”
“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Yeonjun cried out, covering his mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”
“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”
Hueningkai snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.
“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n was married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Yeonjun scoffed, hitting Hueningkai on the shoulder as he cackled.
“Pay up,” Hueningkai grinned as you shook your head.
“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.
“Yikes, I told Soobin I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Beomgyu admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.
Soobin stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.
“Thank you for the basket, Soobin,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on PDA, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Soobin’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.
Soobin merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet. You felt a little bad about putting him on the spot, but you wanted to show off your husband for once!
“Pause,” Beomgyu stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”
“I just lost so much money,” Yeonjun groaned, sucking his teeth and already pulling out his wallet as Hueningkai gleefully counted his bills.
“I’m still processing,” Beomgyu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”
“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Soobin grew up in,” you answered, firmly grasping Soobin’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.
“I owe Hueningkai money?” Taehyun questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”
“Suck my dick,” Hueningkai grinned, opening his palm as Taehyun sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.
“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Soobin complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you were pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”
“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Beomgyu giggled, dodging the box of candy Soobin picked up and tossed at him.
“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Soobin countered.
“The audacity,” Taehyun murmured as Beomgyu huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.
“Guess we need a new project,” Beomgyu grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Hueningkai, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”
“You’re gonna what?!” Hueningkai exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates
You laughed as you watched Hueningkai practically run away from Beomgyu, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.
Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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thestoryofusstan · 4 months
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Look Into His Angel Eyes
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pairing: harry styles x zoologist!youtuber!reader
summary: harry takes his niece to the san diego zoo, and you just so happen to take care of the animal she’s obsessed with. koalas.
warnings: zero knowledge of zoology LMAO, not edited, a few curse words
harry had expected a lot more fuss when he went to a very famous, very popular zoo. he expected at least someone — one person! — to notice him or recognize him.
nobody had even given him a second glass.
those kids movies were right. change your har (put on a beanie) and wear sunglasses (because even if it was a little chilly, it was bright), and you were a whole different person!
well, until gemma’s little girl, rosie, who was usually a gem and the best kid ever, started crying. over what, you may ask?
she demanded they find the koalas.
granted, she was only five, but.. he was still worried people would see him and recognize him.
when he had graciously offered to drive rosie to san diego to go to the zoo because gemma simply didn’t have the time, he forgot it was a public, normal people zoo.
so, he asked someone where the koalas were (and then four more people after that on the way there, all of which informed him that he better hurry if he wanted to catch the koala talk, which was supposedly a big hit for some reason), and made his way to the other side of the zoo.
who the hell made this place so big?
you’d been living in san diego for five years, since you were eighteen. you’d been working with the koalas at the san diego zoo for that same amount of time.
18 and fresh out of high school, you moved far, far away from your horrible hometown and even more horrible people, and went to san diego to both go to college for zoology and work your dream job.
well, technically, it was an internship at first, but still!
like most little girls, you were obsessed with animals. however, instead of dogs or some other basic animal (though, koalas are still pretty basic, you suppose), you were obsessed with koalas. and then, it never went away.
your mother tried anything to talk you out of it, into a safer career path, she’d say. more secure.
well, fuck secure because you were about to go talk to little kids who were just like you when you were younger and feed a baby koala.
you had also started a successful side career as a youtuber. you made regular videos like vlogs and hauls and whatnot, and also educational videos about koalas. some of your vlogs were at work, such as today.
“so.. we have jess here to record as i do a koala talk. and.. it is officially 1:30, so let’s go!” you exclaim, handing your coworker, jess, the camera.
you pushed open the door (more like gate) and walked out. there was a fairly large crowd today, including the cutest little girl with a pink dress on right in the front row.
you set the crate (don’t yell, it’s a big crate. and it’s simply to take them from their exhibit to the talk area, which is a distance of maybe 50 feet) down on the wooden table.
the talk area was pretty much their enclosure, but instead of a glass wall, it was open and the kids could see better.
you opened the crate and slowly coaxed the bears out. you’d only brought two today. mila, and her baby charlotte (you always called her charlie, though).
once they were out and climbing on the branches, you turned to the crowd.
“hi, guys! my name is y/n, and i’m basically in charge of the koalas here! who here has been to one of my talks before?”
a few hands raise.
“good! well, today, we have a new guest… who remembers what was happening with mila last talk? was anyone there?”
one little boy raised his hand.
“yes, the.. little boy in a blue shirt?”
“jackson!” he told you.
“jackson, sorry. what was going on with mila? for everyone who doesn’t know, mila is that big one right there.”
“she was— she had a baby in her tummy.”
“she did!” you respond enthusiastically. “and a few months ago.. four months ago, actually, she had her baby! who wants to meet her?”
all the little kids screamed me! me! me!
you laughed, “alright, let me grab her.”
you walked over to mila, petting her head as you slowly took charlie away.
“hey, mila.. can i take her real quick?” you ask as if she can hear you, before speaking to the crowd. “mila and i have a special bond, if you ask me. she had her baby right around the time i had mine. so we are both new mothers,” you laugh. “but, anyway! i’ve been with mila since she got here, so she really trusts me. which is why i can easily just..”
you grabbed charlie off of mila, and put her on her shoulder like you did your baby.
“so, everyone, this is charlotte, but i call her charlie! now, i have a very special job for one of you.. but i need someone who will be very careful, because charlie is still a delicate baby.. can anyone hold her for me while i feed her?”
and finally, the adorable little girl interacted. she started jumping and raised her hand.
you walked over to the fence separating you from the crowd, crouching to be eye level with her. “and who might you be?”
“rosie!” she responded. and oh, she had a baby voice and she was british.
“rosie! well, do you think you can hold her for me?”
“yes! yes, please!”
“alright, we’ll get you and dad back here—“
“ehm.. uncle..” her uncle, not father, responded in a british accent.
“oh, sorry! you and your uncle back here. and what’s your name, rosie’s uncle?”
he hesitated, before— “harry.”
your brain slowly put two and two together as you glanced at his tattoos.
harry styles.
“oh, i see,” you respond, “well, let’s get you guys back here!”
you opened the gate they were thankfully standing right in front of, and they walked into the talking area before you shut the gate.
you led rosie to the center, crouching down to her again.
“alright, we’re gonna do this in a funny way. can you stick out your arm for me?”
she did.
“i’m gonna put charlie on your arm, alright? she’s gonna wrap herself around it, and her claws might scratch you, but it’s fine, yeah?”
“yes, ma’am!”
“aw, you’re so polite. alright.. charlie incoming!”
you slowly adjusted charlie to curl around rosie’s arm.
“it tickles!” she squeals with a laugh.
“yeah?” both you and harry — harry styles — respond at the same time.
“alright, i’m gonna grab her bottle! stay here!”
you ran over to grab it, and while you were shaking it so it was ready, you felt something wrap around your leg.
“hi, mila!” you exclaim to the koala wrapped around you.
you carefully walk back over.
“i’m gonna feed her for a minute, and then i’ll let you and your uncle try, yeah?”
“okay!”
you started feeding charlie as you spoke again.
“so, the reason we feed charlie instead of having her feed from her momma, who is clinging to my leg, is because charlie was born a little early and needs a little more nutrients!”
you talked a little more about koalas and their behavior before rosie wanted to feed her. and after a few minutes of that, you glanced to harry.
“you wanna give it a go?”
“sure, why not,” he shrugs.
“charlie seems pretty cozy.. so, i’ll give you mila. she’s a little heavy, though.”
you bent over and took mila off your leg, handing her over to harry.
“hold her like a baby on your hip.. it’s kinda like a.. odd hug! a koala hug, if you will. i’ll grab her bottle.”
you ran over, and when harry began feeding her after you returned, he asked a question.
“so.. why do y’feed mila? i know charlie’s a baby and all, but..”
“that’s a very good question! so, mila is getting a little old, and she was also brought to us injured. that, paired with giving birth four months ago, we just have to give her some more electrolytes… her bottle is actually just white gatorade. we tried green, but she hates it. she’s very picky.”
“well, that’s cause y’gave her green.”
“hey! who has the degree here? yeah, shush.”
“yes, ma’am,” he laughed.
once the talk was over, you told rosie and harry to stay back.
you let charlie and mila climb about the branches while you spoke to them.
“i just want to make sure you both are alright with being in a video.. also, you need to wash your hands.. jess should be back with the sanitizer soon.”
“can i ask what video?”
“oh! right, sorry. i’m a youtuber, and i sometimes film my talks to publish and whatnot. i’ll blur your faces, of course. i blur everyone in the crowd’s faces for privacy reasons, but i figured you’d be.. more.. concerned about that than most.”
“you know?”
“i mean.. voice is a giveaway.. i also follow gemma’s instagram, so i recognized rosie,” you shrug. “but anyways, you’re good with the video?”
“yeah, of course.”
you then turned to rosie to answer her bajillion questions about koalas until jess came back with the hand sanitizer.
“so, just use a lot of this, and you’ll be good,” you explain, putting a few pumps into each of their hands.
once they were all clean of koala germs, you told them they were free to go.
rosie ran forward, but harry lingered.
“thank you,”
“oh, yeah. of course. i figured you wouldn’t want koala germs—“
“no, i mean thanks for giving rosie that opportunity.”
“oh! of course. i love seeing little kids who love them as much as me.”
“she’s bloody obsessed with the things.”
“mm, yeah. they’re easy to love. word of advice, don’t shoot her love for them down. it doesn’t exactly work. i mean.. look at me,” you laugh.
“i will keep that in mind,” he smilez. “what was your name again?”
“y/n.. y/n l/n.”
a/n: enjoy
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sunafc · 19 days
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Can I get a kiss, please? —ft. Suna Rintarou.
cw: wc 1k, college au? idk but they are not in high school, there’s a little bit of cheating kinda, friends to lovers, suna is deeply in love and he has a breakdown because u wear his tshirt.
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Suna hates many things. He hates getting up from bed in the morning, hates small talks, hates when practice gets extended, he hates when the shop close to his dorm is out of jelly fruit sticks and the list could go on forever but what he hates the most at the moment is you. He hates how comfortable you got with him during your years of friendship because now you’re standing in front of him, after taking a shower in his bathroom and wearing nothing but his tshirt on top of your underwear, urging him to move and give you some space to sit on the couch. You’re so comfortable with him that you sit right next to him, so close your knees are touching. Your hand on his thigh as you lean in to show him pictures on your phone, fingers grazing the hem of his shorts, so close he can only smell the scent of his shampoo in your hair. You’ve gotten too comfortable. He’s not even sure what you’re talking about, he’s trying to listen to you, he wants to listen to you, but you’re too close. He’s trying to paying attention to whatever is showing on the screen of your phone, but you in his tshirt smelling like his shampoo is just too much. Your touch sends sparks through his body and he can feel something in his stomach, it twists and burns and it makes him want to scream or maybe cry. He hates that you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.
You tap your hand on his thigh, ‘Look, look!’
He gets brought back to reality and a laugh escapes his lips as you show him a video of Atsumu tripping on a rock.
You put away your phone and turn to face Suna, giving him your full attention. He swallows, he’s having trouble breathing.
‘Sunarin,’ you say and he waits for you to say something else but you don’t. You’re just looking at him. He can feel that thing in his stomach move all the way to his spine and he can’t move.
‘Is everything alright?’ You ask, looking a little worried.
He nods, not daring to open his mouth yet.
‘Are you sure you don’t have a fever or something?’ You bring a hand to his forehead, ‘You’re a little weird.’
He scoffs and pushes your hand away, ‘I’m not weird.’
‘Mhm, just a little,’ you smile and turn back to your original position. You switch on the television and brows through netflix looking for a movie to watch.
Without your eyes staring into his soul, Suna feels like he can breathe a little bit easier.
‘Tell me about Yuki,’ you say tapping your fingers on the remote.
‘What about her?’ Suna could not care less about any other person when you were with him. You would occupy every single one of his thoughts. It was actually the same even when you weren’t with him too.
‘You know, how’s it going? Is she nice?’
Suna also hates the way you’re not at all bothered if he dates other people, you’re actually curious about it.
‘She was alright I guess,’ he extends a hand to you, he grazes your arm, he doesn't want to talk about other relationships he only wants to stay with you, ‘We went out like twice then I broke it off.’
Suna was always like that, there were plenty of people who asked him out but no one ever lasted more than three dates. Not when every time he would kiss someone he imagined it was you. After a while you just stopped asking him why he would not put in the effort.
‘I’m thinking of breaking up with Haruto,’ you say suddenly.
Just the sound of that name is enough to make Suna feel nauseous.
‘Thank God,’ another thing that Suna hates is Haruto. Not because he’s jealous, no, but because the guy is actually a shit boyfriend to you, ‘What happened?’
‘You know, the usual,’ you drop the remote and turn to Suna again, ‘We fought again because he’s jealous of you, says I spend more time with you than him,’ you roll your eyes, ‘He thinks I’m cheating.’
Suna can’t help the smirk forming on his lips, knowing you want to break up with your boyfriend because of him does something to him. Maybe he’s a little selfish and maybe he shouldn't be so happy about it, but he thinks it’s alright for this one time.
‘I don’t even know why you stayed with him for so long.’
You lower your gaze, ‘It was nice, he was nice,’ you say, ‘When we didn’t fight.’
‘He’s right though,’ Suna says.
‘What?’ Your eyes lock into his, feeling betrayed.
Suna shrugs, ‘You do spend more time with me.’
You jokingly punch his shoulder, ‘Shut up!’
‘Are you sad?’ Suna asks you turning serious.
‘About Haruto?’
Suna nods and waits for your answer.
You furrow your brow in thought before shaking your head, ‘He was an asshole anyway, but if it means you’ll comfort me,’ you smile, ‘With cuddles and forehead kisses...’ you sigh and put a fake pout on your face, ‘Oh, I’m so sad Sunarin.’
You’re slowly killing him, he’s sure that’s your goal for the night. Slowly stabbing him with every word and every look you’re giving him. You’re looking up at him and you’re just too pretty as you ask for his attention.
He sighs, ‘You know there’s no need to act,’ he pulls you closer and with a newfound confidence he lets you sit between his legs as you face each other, ‘If you want hugs and kisses you just have to ask.’
Maybe he didn’t think that through, because now your legs are around his torso and your skin brushes against his back where his tshirt is slightly lifted. You’re way too close now. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, definitely not your thighs though. He opts to just lazily put his arm around your body.
‘Okay then,’ you run your fingers through his hair, ‘Can I get a kiss, please?’
With that, the thing in his stomach returns and it stretches to his throat making it impossible for him to talk. He’s sure you can feel the way he’s slightly shaking and the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. He thinks of asking you to repeat, but he heard you right and he doesn’t want to risk you changing your mind. He leans in as one of his hands make its way to the base of your neck. He can feel your breath on him. Your fingers still in his hair. Your noses are touching. He feels high, maybe a little dizzy. Just a little closer and your lips would be touching. You’re not running away, you want this too. It feels like you’ve been in this position for hours, the wait is agonizing. He wonders how your lips will taste, maybe like the blackberry chapstick you always wear. He wonders if your lips are as soft as they look.
‘Stop joking around,’ you break the silence.
His other hand grazes your cheek and then his thumb traces your bottom lip, ‘I’m not.’
‘Rin, please,’ you whisper.
Oh, how he loves the desperation in your tone. If only you knew for how long he craved this too. Just when you think he’s finally closing the gap, he gives you a quick peck at the corner of your mouth.
‘I can’t, Y/n,’ he says lowering his head, ‘Not when you’re not mine.’
He hugs you, thightly, burying his head in your neck.
‘I’m sorry,’ you say, ‘I shouldn’t have asked for that.’
You can feel him shaking his head lightly, ‘I wanted to,’ he says.
You wanted it too, more than anything you ever wanted.
Suna can feel the thing in his throat threaten to leave his body through his mouth, ‘I love you,’ he blurts out and shocked by his own words his head jerks up, ‘I—’
‘Sunarin,’ you stop him and every thoughts that was starting to form in his mind, ‘It’s okay,’ you cup his face, ‘I love you, too,’ you lay your forehead on his, ‘I’ll make it up to you.’
He hugs you again, ‘You’ll be mine?’
You hum and nod your head.
Now that you knew of his feelings, that thing in his stomach, in his spine, in his throat, is gone. He still doesn’t dare to touch your thighs, though, and the smell of his shampoo on you still makes him weak at the knees. Next time you’ll see each other you’ll be his and then he will kiss you. He can imagine how it will be, he imagined it so many times before. He smiles as he gets comfortable in your arms.
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h3yl4dies · 1 month
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✰ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠!
✰ 𝐀𝐤𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐤𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬!
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𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚 : 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨
𝘼𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙣'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 : 𝙏𝙔𝙎𝙈 𝙁𝙊𝙍 100 𝙁𝙊𝙇𝙇𝙊𝙒𝙀𝙍𝙎! 𝘽𝙩𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚!! 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡!!
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 𝙍𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 𝙍𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙪 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙮𝙤 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙯𝙪 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ⚠ : 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 & 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙯𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 💀
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☛ 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈
Him being the most non-caring sadistic motherfucker reacting to a girl crying is very confusing for him
You were recently stressed because of your college assignments and paperwork shit
You were at your room crying quietly until he walked passed your room, heading soft crying whimpers
He went into the room with our knocking and saw you hugging your soaked pillow with your tears on the bed
"Yo what happened?" He said as he sat on the edge of your bed, patting your back slowly as you opened your reddish teary eyes at him
He isn't the best listener, but he is also a good help
You vented your problems and stress to him as he quietly listened
After you were done venting, he suggests that you should not care about your shit rn, you should take a break instead
Oh yeah, hes the type to not take these kind of shit seriously so he would just randomly comfort you and suggest you should rip your assignments in half 💀
"Lmao who cares about studying and homework? They are just here to ruin your life worse so why don't we just burn it?"
He's already handing you a fucking lighter 😭
You tried stopping him from burning the assignments but nvm
Overall, he's not the best listener but he is willing to do whatever he can to make you feel better (in the worse way 💀)
☛ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔
Awh, he's so sweet
Blud is the type to be nonchalant when he actually has the most Pure-sweetest heart ever
You and rindou go to the same high school, during cleaning time. Rindou wanted to borrow a mop from your class
When he went to your classroom, no one was there. You were the only one. You were crying in the empty classroom quietly.
"Huh- wtf-.. Hey what happened..? "
HE'S THE TYPE TO BE SO CONFUSED AND NOT EXPECTING THIS
it turns out that some kid from your class forced you to take over their duty of cleaning the classroom and you were upset about it
When he heard about that, he would be visibly angry.
He would want to gain information about that kid from your class and plan to meet him at the school gate with Ran and beat the shit out of him 🤦‍♀️
"Hey, don't stress about this alright? It's okay, I will help you clean your classroom together"
He feels like the best thing he can do is to help you out, after helping you out, you are gonna plan a funeral for that kid who forced you because rindou isn't joking in planning to beat him up 💀💯
"Don't worry, I will take care of him later but let's quickly finish this alright?"
Overall, he's a good listener! Better than his brother actually
☛ 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎
Oh god
I swear to the fucking lord
HE is the worst one out of these 3 characters I am writing for right now 😭
I AM ACTUALLY BEING FR HE IS THE WORST THERAPIST AND LISTENER
You were recently made fun of, because of your body which made you extremely insecure
You were at the school bathroom stalls crying quietly and locking yourself in the stalls
When he found out about this, boy he isn't gonna turn on the comfort energy, HE BOUTTA TURN ON HIS KILLING SPREE ENERGY INSTEAD 💯🤬🙏
Another reminder, whatever he says might be toxic as fuck
"Why the hell are you crying over this shit? They're just mad"
he might get annoyed from your crying but if he actually cares, he would just kill the bullies tbh
He wants to end things quick and not make it a drama so he would just randomly quickly murder their asses
As you all know, if you seek comfort from him, it isn't gonna be good 😭
He would stutter and think what to say to make you feel better, he has 0 experience from comforting people
"Hey uh, it's alright, stop crying and things will get easier and better"
Overall, he's the least listener and comforter I recommend in here (hey at least he tried 😁)
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Thanks for 100 followers again loves<3
☛ 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
☛ 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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ereardon · 3 months
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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Two
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A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic
Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 
Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol
Chapter summary: Y/N tries to get her life together but finding a job proves to be difficult. So difficult that when Jake catches her in a weak spot at the Hard Deck the two reconnect behind closed doors; Y/N gets a massive surprise that threatens to change everything
Masterlist here; previous chapter here
You were late. 
Which was abnormal, because the only thing that was timely about you was the fact that you got your period on the same day every single month. It was the one thing you could count on in a world that was constantly in flux. 
This time, you were late. Three weeks late, to be exact. 
One Week Before
You weren’t sure what you had expected when you booked your flight to San Diego. The last time you and Bob had lived together you were just kids. Back then it had been fighting over the remote and who ate the last frozen waffle. 
Bob had always been quiet. Collected. He blended in with the background of things. Whereas you had preferred to be the center of attention, Bob was the wallflower. He carried your plastic pumpkin behind you while trick-or-treating and he was the one to help make scrapbooks for your high school graduation, taking a special weekend leave from the academy just for that. 
So it was surprising that almost every moment of Bob’s time was filled. If he wasn’t at North Island training, he was on a smaller mission, gone for a day or two at a time. Whenever he wasn’t flying, he was hanging out with the rest of the daggers. You often woke up and wandered out into the living room to find Bradley sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal, wearing the same clothes as the night before, smiling sheepishly about how he had crashed on the couch. 
“I’m sorry,” Bob said, his voice echoing on the phone as you filled a mug with coffee in the kitchen. “I won’t be home until late.” 
“You know when I moved here I thought we’d get to spend some time together,” you said. “Instead, I hear from you even less than when I was back home with mom.” 
“I’m sorry about that.” You could hear the jet engines roaring in the background. “This weekend. I promise, we can do something fun. The zoo?” 
You laughed. “I’m not five anymore, Bobby. You don’t have to plan a fun playdate for me. I just want to spend some quality time together.” 
“We will, I promise.” There was a pause. “Ducky, I gotta run, OK. I’ll see you when I get home.” The line went dead. You sighed, picking up your cup of coffee and walking into the living room. You needed to get a job. Pulling up your computer, you flicked over to the LinkedIn tab that was open. Back in Chattanooga, you had spent the year after college aimless. Bartending at night. Taking some classes and studying for the GMAT as you toyed with the idea of business school. But you weren’t really sure what you wanted to do. 
You still weren’t sure. That was the part that you had kept from Bob. He was the kind of person who needed a plan. An itinerary. He looked at menus before he even stepped foot in a restaurant. He refused to go somewhere if he didn’t know what the parking situation was. He was by the book. You were anything but. 
It was time you grew up a little. 
***
By the time Bob got home, the sound of the front door crashing open, you were in bed. Opening one eye, and then another, you waited for the soft footsteps of Bob entering the house. Instead, you heard a gaggle of voices, loud shushes and uncontrolled whispers. 
Cracking open the door, you peered down the hallway to where the light was on in the living room. “Bobby?” you called out, stepping onto the carpeted hallway. 
“Duck?” It was a slurred whisper. You frowned, rounding the corner into the living room to see Jake supporting Bob as he lowered him down onto the couch. 
You rushed over, eyes wide, not even realizing that the hem of your long shirt rode up as you kneeled down in front of the couch where Bob was laid horizontal, one arm hanging off and dragging on the cream carpet. You looked up at Jake accusatorial. “You got him drunk?” 
“It was Phoenix,” Jake said, hands in the air. “I swear. I’m just the DD.” 
You shook your head. “I’m getting him some water.” Bob started to sit up and you put one hand on his shoulder, shoving him down against the cushion. “Lie down.” 
“Bossy,” he groaned, fluttering his eyes closed. 
In the kitchen, you ran the tap, seething. Of course Jake had gotten Bob drunk. You barely knew him, but this just proved that you knew enough. His cockiness at the bar that first night had been charming. But you knew from your experience with men that cockiness never aged well. 
Jake entered the kitchen, one hand pressed against the doorframe. “Y/N.” 
You shook your head, pouring a glass of water. “You can leave.” 
“What if I came here to see you?” 
“Why the hell would you do that?” 
Jake inched closer. “Maybe I thought what we had the other night was pretty great.” 
“Weren’t you listening?” you asked, setting the cup down on the counter. “That’s never happening again. In fact, we promised to pretend it never happened. So in my mind, we met for the first time that day at the coffee shop when Bob invited me to meet his friends. That’s the story, Jake. Nothing else.” 
“You really think it’ll never happen again?” 
Jake was close, the warmth of his body practically heating you through your skin. You had to push away the memory of how his hands felt along your waist, in your hair, his lips on your throat. He was just a guy. There were plenty of other men you could sleep with or date who weren’t part of your brother’s friend group. You owed it to Bob not to get in the way any more than you already had. 
Even if Jake was standing in the kitchen looking at you like he wanted to consume you. Even if you felt your legs trembling at the thought of his tongue roaming over your core like it had that night. 
You straightened up and looked directly into Jake’s eyes, willing yourself to be difficult. Hard. “I don’t think so,” you whispered. “I know. Now if you don’t mind. I want to get this to Bobby before he pukes on the carpet like a cat.” 
You pushed past Jake, heart beating rapidly. A minute later, as you knelt down next to the couch, you heard the gentle clang of the door shutting closed, followed by a car engine roaring to life outside. 
Bob was asleep on the couch, glasses askew. You removed them, setting them on the nearby table along with the glass of water. Without thinking, you made your way to the window, peering out from behind the curtains. 
Jake was sitting in his truck in the driveway, lights on, but not moving. You pulled the drapes closed, shutting him out. 
***
You pressed your forehead against the steering wheel of Bob’s truck and groaned. This was your third interview that you had bombed in as many days. The first had been for a store manager of a women’s boutique on First Ave. The second had been for a barista job and the third for a bartending position on North Island. Bob had been pissed about that third one, but you needed money. 
“You have a degree,” Bob argued as you folded a pile of laundry on the floor of the living room. “From a good university. Put it to use, Y/N.” 
“Don’t you think I’m trying?” you asked, exasperated. “Nobody wants a fucking history major. It’s not like I’m going to go work for a Big Four or some land developer. These are the kinds of jobs that will hire me.” 
“You’re better than all of those,” Bob huffed, standing up and shaking his head. “I’ll find you something.” 
“You’re not responsible for me, Bobby,” you argued. “I can take care of myself.” 
“Can you?” 
His words clung in the air. Heavy, like fat raindrops. Those two words sucked all of the oxygen out of the room, out of your lungs. Just a black hole and you were falling. That’s all you seemed to do lately. Fall. Fail. Flail. 
And Bob knew it. 
***
“So you’re from Tennessee?” The guy you were talking to stepped in closer, one hand on the wooden bar behind you, practically boxing you in. But he was cute and when he smiled you felt like he was talking to only you. 
You nodded. “Moved here last month.” 
“So what do you do?” 
You hesitated. There was movement on your periphery and then Bob appeared on your right, face hard behind his wire frames. He took one look at Keith, the guy who had bought your last drink, and his lips practically disappeared into his face as they squeezed into such a tight line. “Fuck off,” Bob growled. Keith looked up, terrified. He spotted Bob’s uniform immediately. 
“Lieutenant Floyd,” Keith said, straightening. 
Bob stepped in closer. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as built as Jake, but he carried a quiet presence that filled a room. It had run off more than one high school boyfriend. Keith looked like the next victim. “Leave,” Bob said and Keith grabbed his beer, scurrying away with nothing more than a grimace. 
You turned your gaze, hot, on Bob. “Seriously?” 
“A fucking ensign?” Bob asked. “No way. I didn’t bring you here so you could let some random Navy guy in your pants.” 
“You didn’t even want to bring me here!” you argued. Bob turned ashen. “I’m only here because you feel bad for me. Poor little Y/N. Has no life, no job, no aspirations. I’m your pathetic little sister. That’s all I’ll ever be to you, isn’t it?” 
“Ducky,” he said, face growing softer. “That’s not true.”
“What if it is?” you whispered, pushing yourself up and off of the bar. 
“Duck.” Bob’s hand shot out and you flung him off, eyes wide. 
Weaving around the bodies that crowded the bar, you skirted the edge of the room, headed for the bathroom. Inside, you put both hands on the sink, letting your head hang low. Just as the tears started to flow, the door opened and you spun around in shock. “Oh!” 
Jake stood in the doorway to the single bathroom. “Shit, sorry, the door wasn’t locked.” 
“It’s fine.” You turned back around, expecting him to leave. 
Instead, you heard the door shut softly, footsteps as Jake stepped near. “Are you OK?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Because you’re crying in a dirty bar bathroom.” 
You wheeled around. Before you could think, you flung your arms around Jake’s neck, pulling him in close, smashing your lips against his, tasting the beer on his tongue as he walked you back until your hips hit the sink basin, his fingertips tight along your sides. You gasped into his mouth, feeling his lips close around yours, the heat of his hips drilling you back against the counter, his massive muscular arms winding around you, holding you close, the pine scent of his cologne filling your nose as one of his hands threaded into the hair at the back of your head. 
Finally, you pulled back, lips puffy and wet, Jake’s green eyes wide, his mouth pink from kissing. His eyes roamed over your face before he stepped back, his hands falling from your waist. 
“Shit,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 
“No, you definitely should have done that.” Jake grinned. 
“I have to go,” you murmured, grabbing your purse, trying to skirt around him. 
Jake’s hand reached out, stopping you. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s OK.” 
You turned to look at him, eyes filling back with tears. “Nothing is OK,” you replied quietly, one hand on the door, yanking it open. “In case you didn’t realize, Jake, I’m a mess.” 
You scrambled out the door and back into the boisterous bar before Jake could say anything else. 
***
“Ducky?” Bob’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door was soft. He must have been in the kitchen or living room. “I’m leaving!” 
“OK!” you called back, voice too sharp. 
There was a pause. And then, “I’ll see you later?” 
“Yeah!” 
The sound of the front door closing rang out and you sank to the ground, cold tile pressed against your bare feet and the backs of your legs. You could feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. 
You looked down at the pregnancy test grasped between your clammy fingers. 
And the pink plus sign staring back at you. 
Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:
@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away
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topichoon · 2 months
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Like A Summer Breeze - Lee Heeseung
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genre(s). fluff, smut, crack, and friends to lovers trope
pairing. bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader
WARNINGS: pet names, reader shares about their insecurities, kissing, public sex (in hot tub), fingering, p in v, oral (f receiving), any more..?
a/n. I felt very in the summer mood ig sooooo I decided to write this! it was so much fun to write as well like i was enjoying it the whole time😭
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The scorching hot sun shines into my room peeking through from the window. This reminds me that it’s the first day of summer break finally. Last year was my freshmen year in college and it was quite hard to adjust since I'm not good with big changes, but overtime I got used to it. Sometimes it makes me sad to think about my old friends from high school since I haven't talked to most of them for a long time, but I honestly can’t wait for what the future will bring me. I'd prefer a healthy relationship, since that's been on the top of my list for years now. I’ve had a few boyfriends in the past, but they never lasted. I try to tell myself that I just haven’t found the right one yet but when I see all of my friends happily with their relationship it makes me doubt if someone will even love for who I am.
Just like my last relationship with Choi Beomgyu, the school's frat boy whose most known to get himself around whenever he can. I should’ve known not to fall for one, but I just couldn’t help myself. Whenever a man gives me the slightest amount of attention after I've been in so many bad relationships it makes me think they actually want me. And not just for all the sexual aspects like they’ve always wanted. Of course, I like doing sexual things with my lover but when that's the only thing they truly want from me that's where I have to draw the line.
One time with my first boyfriend back in my junior year of high school, he wanted me to give it up my virginity to him, and I did because I thought he actually loved me for more than sex. But right after I gave him what he wanted, he got up and left then ghosted me. I hadn't seen him in ages since he suspiciously switched high schools but to my surprise he applied to the same college as I did. And I always see him around campus with another girl wrapped around his finger. I wonder if he changed but to my assumptions and seeing him with a new girl practically every day I wouldn't doubt if he's still the same.
That's why I’m very thankful for my best friend Heeseung, we’ve been best friends since birth basically since our moms were friends' way back when, so we were prone to being friends as well. He’s always there for me when something went wrong and reassuring me that everything going to be okay. Every time one of my relationships had ended, he was always there to comfort me. He’s sort of in the same boat as me when it comes to relationships, but as the male he isn’t the one taking advantage of the girl, it’s the exact opposite.
He hasn’t told me much about his romantic life but when he does, I make sure not to forget it because that's usually a sign that it was bad. One particular relationship with a girl he had last year was terrible. And I’ve never seen him cry so much in his entire life, which made my heart break for him to see how much he cared about her and how she just threw him to the curb.
The girl had been cheating on him their whole entire relationship but never said a word, I guess Heeseung was too oblivious to figure out right away. But I don't blame him because he was so in love and when you're truly in love you have your full trust in your significant other, which is what happened he did trust her with his entire life, but she took that for advantage. Overtime he had grew some suspicions due to her always getting back past 12am and making excuses that it was for "work" or something stupid. But the real way he found out himself was he caught her with a guy in her car late at night when he was looking out his window waiting for her to arrive back from "work". At this point when he saw those two in his car his heart shattered completely, he couldn't believe the girl he thought he was going to marry did this to him.
When he finally opened up to me and told me what happened with his ex-girlfriend, he didn’t tell me what they were doing in the car but from how upset he was I can almost guarantee it was tragic. So, what better option is there to cope than applying for an ice cream shop job on a pier. We both applied a couple weeks ago at the same time by filling out an online application, and we finally heard back a few days ago. We made it a competition to see who would get in because they were only looking for one person at the time. But to our surprise their last employee quit, so the owner reached out to us and said we were in.
Most people would take employees quitting as a negative thing, but we were just excited that we would be doing this job together for the rest of the summer. Same time, same hours, same everything. The dress code on the other hand isn’t even bad, but the owner said that we could wear whatever we wanted to since he doesn’t really care anymore as long as we’re doing our job. So, I’ll probably just settle for a bikini paired with jean shorts on the bottom because I don’t want it to be too revealing since basically all of my swimsuits are not very family friendly and technically the real job is to be serving ice cream not dressing like a prostitute for goodness sakes.
Hee 😼: You ready for our first day on the job 😭
Me: yeah…definetly😐 bro what do i do if someone tries to hit on me??!
Hee 😼: idfk! Just go along with it…? Also did you just brozone me
Me: you’ve been brozoned your whole entire life 🤣
Hee 😼: i’m. Blocking. You.
Me: NO WAIT PLEASE DONT I BEG🙏
Hee 😼: why are you begging you weirdo😟 (do it more often)
Me: okay nvm pls block me now i’m not talking to you anymore🙄
Hee 😼: you know i could never block youuu
Me: stop this lovey dovey stuff NOW my friends just asked me if we were dating.
Hee 😼: you know you wish we were dating😘
Me: ...
Hee 😼: well i’ll be there in 10 see you soon my beautiful girlfriend😜
I roll my eyes and throw my phone onto my bed and put on my pink bikini set and slid my jean shorts on. And then slide on some sandals paired with one of my seashell bracelets that Heeseung got me as a kid on our “10-year bff anniversary” or so he calls it. I always wear it no matter what even when I’m not with him.
I just feel protected whenever I wear it because I know it’s from him. And he always wears my handmade coastal styled necklace I made him everywhere he goes. I finish tying my hair back into a low braid and take a quick check in the mirror before heading to the front door. I take a peek out the front door window and see him parked in the driveway. I exit my house and go into the passenger seat.
“Hey y/nnn!” Heeseung smiles while looking over at me. I take a moment before responding because I was a bit distracted with his choice of outfit. And because he looked good. Like really good.
A white button up polo with all the buttons undone. Finished with his black shorts. He seemed to notice how long I was looking at him, so he decided to speak, “y/n~ my eyes are right here” he points to his eyes with a sly grin plastered on his face.
“Oh whatever..” I playfully roll my eyes in response to him. He laughs before backing out of my driveway. He turns and grabs my seat tightly while backing out, the grip and veins from his hand makes me think some very interesting thoughts.
But I quickly snap out of it once I realize he would think that's probably weird of me but in all honesty, my self respect is long gone just from seeing his hands if I'm going to be honest. “You look really good by the way.” Heeseung says softly, the blush on his face getting redder by the second.
“Thank you hee, you don’t look too bad yourself.” I attempt to say confidently but instead sound shy. But how could I sound confident in myself when this is THE Lee Heeseung after all. Even though we’ve been friends for many years I still get nervous around him because his aura is so damn intimidating.
My friends say it’s because I like him, but I honestly get nervous around every guy. I think it’s normal, but I guess they think otherwise. Although in their defense I did get upset and jealous when he was with another girl, but it’s solemnly because I didn’t want him to get hurt again!
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We arrive at the ice cream shop 1 hour before opening so hopefully we can learn our way around and see how everything works. The shop is pretty spacious and much bigger than I expected it to be. So, I am very thankful that we came here early because if we didn't, I would not know what to do.
“Y/n if I’m going to be completely honest with you, I don’t know how to make ice cream...” Heeseung curls his lips trying to hide his laughter.
“What?! How do you not know how to make ice cream?” I look at him with my jaw dropped and a shocked look on my face totally missing his joke for being serious.
To which he returns a loud laugh and replies, “I was just messing with you! You should’ve seen the look on your face!” He continues laughing while pointing at my still confused face.
I laugh as well while shaking my head in disbelief. I can’t believe I almost thought this idiot didn’t know how to make ice cream. I mean there could be a chance but he’s not that dumb to not know how to scoop ice cream and simply put it into a cone.
We finally get all set up in the shop and get ready while standing in front of the 2 cashier registers, one for me and one for him. “Let’s make it a competition to see who can get more people to come to their register. Okay?” I challenge him with a smirk on my face.
“Game on. I already know I’m going to win.” He pats my head gently before returning back to the register since the customers are already walking inside.
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We had already served a lot of customers and it was close to ending time but just before we were going to start packing up one more girl walked in. She had nice freshly done beach wave curls, along with a skimpy bikini. The more I analyzed her closely she had a way better body than me, she had bigger tits and a big ass.
As she walked in further, I could already tell who she was going to go to. Heeseung. I almost felt jealous. I already knew I wasn’t good enough for him but damn just seeing her hit hard enough. Heeseung got off his phone and looked at her.
I took a deep breath in and out, curling my lips anxiously. As she walked closer, I felt very insecure, I didn’t have big tits or a big ass they are way smaller, and I am just skinny. I mean I have a flat stomach and a good set of abs, but guys don’t seem to like that anymore from what I've seen.
She transfers her gaze away from Heeseung to me surprisingly. She smiled at me brightly and came to my register. I was quite startled to be honest because I wasn’t expecting her to go to mine. I was so sure she was going to go try and hit on Heeseung but I thought wrong.
“Hello! I was wondering if I could have 2 mint ice cream cones, please?” She looks at me softly.
I quickly nod and type it all up into the register getting the total. Heeseung goes to the back and starts scooping up the ice cream.
“Will that be all for you today?” I return her smile and wait for her response.
To which she nods, “yes! My girlfriend and I are on vacation here, so we decided to stop here!” She says cheerily. I nod and grab her card from her swiping it across the side and return it back to her.
Oh my god. I was jealous of someone who was already in a happy relationship. How fucking sick am I; I should’ve known not to be jealous of someone at first glance. But in this case...I was.
Heeseung brings the ice cream cones up to the front and she grabs them from his hands saying a quiet “thank you” and walks out.
When she walks out Heeseung turns and looks at me and walks over “you were jealous weren’t you?” He chuckles while shutting down the registers.
“Why are you asking?” I question him out of curiosity. Quite confused why he would ask this out of the blue. But also, I wanted to know how he knew was it clear on my face that I was?!
“It was pretty obvious y/n,” he laughs quietly in between “but just know you’re beautiful just the way you are ynnie..I would pick you over anybody else if you gave me the chance...” he walks over to my and hugs me from behind.
“And also…I love your body.” He runs his hands up and along the side of my torso. “So, if you ever are insecure about yourself, just know I think you’re fucking hot and anyone who says otherwise is wrong.” He buries his face into my neck while saying this.
“Just so you know if that girl was trying to hit on me or make any moves, I would’ve shut her down right away.” Heeseung’s warm breath hitting my neck causing shivers to get sent down my spine.
"And also...I won~" He pulls away smirking and collects his tips from the tip jar. While I just stand there completely dumbfounded from everything that just happened.
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HEESEUNG’S POV
Ever since I hit puberty, I saw y/n in a completely different way than before. I felt this romantic connection with her, and it never went away no matter how many relationships I got in. And sometimes it feels like she actually wants me, but other times it feels the exact opposite. Like she could honestly care less about me and just ditch me for someone else better than me. It's hard to understand her you know. Which is why I've tried so hard to not have feelings for her because I know it would never work out, we're best friends and she probably just wants to stay that way. Which I'm completely fine with it hurts to think that way but I would never force her into something that she wouldn't want.
I tried at least to prove my feelings for her last night at the ice cream shop by calling her “gorgeous” and “hot”, so if she does supposedly happen to have feelings for me, she would know I feel the same way. But I don’t think she got the memo and she most likely thought I was just being nice to her or something. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes if it means I can have her. Yesterday when I noticed her looking upset when that one girl walked in, I immediately felt bad. I want her to know that I wouldn’t choose any other girl over her.
It will always be her.
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Y/N’S POV
It’s been about 2 months since we started the job and its now August. The last month of summer before we'll have to go back to college and go our separate ways again. Time flew by so fast, and I’m so upset that it’s almost coming to an end.
Sadly, we don’t go to same university, so we won’t be able to see each other as often. But last year we did manage to make it work as we facetimed frequently and hung out about once a month in person. If I’m telling the truth I don’t think that was enough time. But I’m glad to have the summer so we can grow back closer again before we grow apart over the school year just like last year.
Me: hee! do you wanna hangout today?
Hee 😼: yesss where?
Me: I was thinking your house? Because I know you got a hot tub recently 🤭
Hee 😼: dang I should’ve known you didn’t want to go because of me🥲🥲
Me: says who? Maybe I did want to see you as well🤷‍♀️
Hee 😼: knew you did😮‍💨 but so do I 🫣
Me: okay well I’ll be there in 5 does that work for you?
Hee 😼: anything works for me when it comes to you
Me: hmm okay then perf😩 I’ll see you soon
Hee 😼: bye ynnieee
I pull up to his house and get out of my car. Walking up to his door I quickly readjust my bikini as it was all over the place and showing basically everything from the car ride. Partially from being my most revealing bikini I have, but if I want to impress Heeseung that’s the way to go, I guess. And it's the last few weeks of summer so if I want to get his attention I don't have forever before he finds another girl on his campus.
I ring his doorbell and wait patiently but definitely not for long. Before I know it the door is already flung all the way open. Revealing a tall and handsome guy which is Heeseung.
He gestures me inside and shuts the door behind me. I catch him checking me out and it’s blatantly obvious to me. I grab his jaw and move his head up so now he’s looking into my eyes. When I get a clearer look at his face I notice his burning red cheeks. How cute…
He looks down at my lips for a split second then looks back up at my eyes. Licking his lips, his eyes are filled with need and desire. But I’m not going to give him that, yet I’ll make him work for it just like I've had to basically my whole life trying to get him to like me. I let go of his jaw and smile at his disappointed reaction.
“Wanna go in the hot tub now?” I ask him excitedly. Waiting for his answer he interlocks his fingers with mine and nods his head.
“Yeah, let’s go.” He mumbles. He leads me to his newly finished backyard.
We make it to the hot tub and he asks me, “what color lights do you want in the hot tub” he gulps before finishing his sentence “there’s blue, red—“
I cut him off before he can finish saying the colors before I blurt out “red.” He looks at me a little surprised but smirk’s instantly when he gets the memo.
He grabs the light switch cord and changes it to red and turns on the jets. I go to the stairs and slowly walk into the hot tub, getting used to the warm temperature. Heeseung walks behind me very closely.
We both sit on one of the ledges inside the hot tub and I turn to look at him. “Thanks again hee for letting me come over,” I say smiling widely.
“Anytime, I love seeing you as much as I can.” Heeseung fidgets with his fingers nervously. Of course, I notice this, so I decide to scoot a littl closer to him. Maybe he’ll get what I’m implying, I hope.
And to my surprise he does notice, and his cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “You know if you wanted to sit on my lap, you could’ve just asked?” He builds up the courage to ask.
I look at him with a small smirk and get on his lap like he said. His hands almost instantly go on my thighs massaging the inner corners. No man has ever taken their time to touch me like this, they just fucked me raw. But Heeseung…I’m determined to figure out how he fucks.
Our lips connect and move together at a perfect rhythm. It’s almost as if our lips were made for each other. Heeseung continues rubbing my inner thighs making me moan in between kisses. He inserts his tongue in my mouth, roaming all around. He tastes so sweet I’m addicted to his lips at this point. His lips so soft and plush and they work absolute miracles.
His hands working their way dangerously close to my throbbing core. Fuck I am so into this, I know this is wrong and this will ruin our friendship. But I could care less, the way he’s teasing me with his every movement makes me want him even more.
“Do you want this...?” Heeseung asks carefully before going further. I nod quickly but that doesn’t faze him. “Words yn.” He waits for me to actually confirm verbally.
“Yes, I want this so bad hee!” I whine desperately. He wastes no time before removing my bikini bottoms and starts rubbing my clit. Starting at a slow pace then working the speed faster overtime.
He takes one of my tits and wastes no time before taking it all into his mouth. He sucks on it likes it’s his last day on earth. His free hand playing with my other nipple making sure it doesn’t feel left out. He softly bites down on my nipple that’s in his mouth making me whimper in return.
My head drops back into his shoulder from the pleasure. His fingers felt so good, almost too good to be true. Along with his mouth working wonders his tongue licking all over my tit. The way he was doing so much to me at once made my eyes roll back.
He continues these movements before inserting one finger in. The feeling of his finger going inside me makes me go insane. A fleeted moan exits my body as he plunges another finger in.
“Doing so good ynnie…” he says in a dark huskily voice his voice vibrating on my tit. Thrusting his fingers in and out while my moans get louder. His fingers going deeper inside of me at a quick tempo makes my mind wander to how his dick would feel inside me.
“Fuck! I’m s-so close heeseungie..” I cry out my body squirming all over his clothed cock. Heeseung's swim trunks suddenly becoming 3x too tight from how painfully hard he is getting just from hearing these beautiful sounds come out of my mouth and the feeling of my warm walls clenching against his fingers.
“Oh yeah? Come on cum all over my fingers...” he whispers darkly in my ear.
Those words made me cum right away, immediately coating his fingers with my sweet juices. Part of me can’t believe I’m doing this but the other part of me wants to discover more.
He removes his mouth off my tit while placing one last peck on my nipple and says, “did so good f’me fuck, can’t wait to see how good you’ll feel around my cock.” He takes off his swim trunks and grabs my hips.
He lines me up and I slowly sink down onto his cock. His long shaft going further into me and going places no other man could ever reach. I wait for my gummy walls to adjust to his big size and length before I do anything.
“Okay I’m ready.” I breath out giving him the okay to start going.
He wastes no time before gripping tighter onto my hips and making me ride him. I grab onto the sides of the ledge inside the hot tub and grind my body along his lap. This throws him over the edge, and he moans.
My tight hole clenching down on his cock tightly that he just can’t get enough of. He bucks his hips up making me whine, “sorry baby you just feel too good...” his noises become more audible as I start bouncing up and down on his long cock.
“F-fuck..I’m going to cum if you keep doing that yn.” His head throws back his hands traveling all around my body. Once he says those words I speed up, his thickness stretching me out, but the pleasure gets rid of all the pain.
“Shit— I'm going to cum yn.. cum with me,” Heeseung grunted while his fingers dig deeper into my skin sure to leave marks the next morning.
“How about me make this a little more exciting,” he pauses building the anticipation “let’s do a countdown...” he growled bringing his face closer to my revealed neck. Placing love bites and hickies all over my collarbone.
“5….” Heeseung’s thrusts becoming rougher and reaching undiscovered spots.
Wet moans release my mouth from the way his tip is hitting all the right places. From the way he is breathing and groaning I can tell this countdown is as hard for him and it is for me. “4...come on you can do this yn” his eyes shut close at the extreme pleasure.
The way I’m clenching so tightly on his cock makes him go feral. He doesn’t know if he can even last 5 seconds because he needs to cum now. “Fuck— 3…” moans and grunts filling the area that the neighbors can for sure hear.
But we could care less the only thing we’re focused on is trying not to cum. Thank goodness his parents weren’t home today because they usually are since Heeseung has to go back to university in a week.
“2.... we're so close just keep holding on baby...” he rasps his voice low and dark.
“1...” the moment this leaves his voice is when I completely come undone onto his cock. Along with his warm seed spreading all over my insides.
Our breaths heavy and clothes gone if anyone looked out their window, they would now what just happen. But thankfully no one did, and we stay like this for a couple more minutes before we start collected our swim pieces.
He helps me tie my bikini top on along with my bottoms so we can look at least good enough to walk back in the house. Before getting his swim trunks back on he places a small kiss on my neck.
"Holy shit...I can't believe we just did that— but that was the best sex I've ever had in my entire life..." he chuckles while tying his swim trunks.
"Yeah, me either...but I do have to agree with you that was fucking amazing." I nod agreeingly watching him adjust his trunks and shake his wet hair.
"Here we should probably go inside so I can clean you up..." He grabs my waist and helps me get out of the hot tub since my legs basically feel just like Jello. That was most definitely the best fuck I've ever and probably ever will experience. And I am more than thankfully I had this opportunity before it was too late.
We walk in the house together to our relief his parents weren't home since they were on a business trip for a month. So, we went into the bathroom and undressed ourselves once again like earlier. I would love to do that again but I'm not quite sure if he can handle it.
He turns on the water and waits for it to get warm enough before we walk in. I immediately spot a ledge inside the shower and sit on it. I lean my head back and close my eyes. It's not long before I feel something wet lapping at my clit. So, I quickly look down and see a needy Heeseung desperately sucking on my clit. I smile and put my hands in his hair tugging slightly to give him a sign that I see him doing this. When he feels me pull on his hair he goes faster. Eating me out like it's his last meal but I am not complaining because this man is pussy drunk at its fullest.
The shower filled with echoes of my moans and whines making Heeseung proud to know he is making me feel this way. He is so determined to make me cum again and from the way he is sucking on my swollen clit and inserting his tongue in my entrance makes me almost positive I will.
"Pussy tastes so fucking good..." he groans while thrusting his tongue in and out of my hole. The vibrations of his voice on my clit makes me let out a wet moan.
"Fuck— f-faster! Heeseungie please..." I grip his hair tighter and start riding his face desperately. Heeseung smirks and tongue fucks me just how I asked for.
"I'm gonna c-cum!!" I whine bucking my hips upwards and slamming my eyes shut tightly.
"C'mon darling...cum on my face." His slurps and words being the only thing I can focus on at the moment. Everything around me feels like it's spinning from how good I feel.
I let out a breath and do as he says. Cumming all over his pretty face with my warm juices. "So good f'me..." he licks around his lips where some of my cum landing. Trying not to waste a single drop because he is so addicted to the taste.
We finished the rest of the shower washing each other's bodies off making sure not to miss any spots. But we ended up going for a round 2 anyways due to him getting hard and horny from washing my body. Later that night he had asked me to be his girlfriend and expressed his feelings he had for me ever since he was a kid, and I of course said yes. At last, we understood our feelings towards each other, and I was almost certain this relationship was going to last.
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Ever since then work has been so much funnier and enjoyable when working together because we both had finally realized our feelings towards each other. We spent more time together outside of work and slept at each other's houses very often. Which was basically every single day, it's as if we were making up for all the lost time we could've spent together if we had expressed our feelings sooner. But in all honesty, we were just so in love that we didn't want to go without one another.
But of course, with every good that happens there is always a bad that follows with it. Summer break ends in a week which would mean we would have to separate for an entire school year. I knew it would be hard, but I was determined to make it work and so was he. I just hoped that it wouldn't be like last year when by the end of the year we barely talked to each other at all. But I have higher hopes this time that it will work out since we are actually official now.
Because I will always love him the first time and the last time. Forever and forever till death do us apart. I know he is the one for me which is why it took me a bit to realize it was him. Lee Heeseung. My one and only love. He has proven so many times this as well, he is such a gentleman and we even told our parents, and they were so happy for us. They had told us they knew this moment would come eventually which made me laugh because I had heard their conversations before about me and Heeseung and this topic was definitely brought up more than once.
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The week had already passed, and it was now time to get back to college. I cried the whole day and Heeseung did as well, it felt as if it were too soon for us to leave each other. I knew it wouldn't be forever but it made it even harder knowing our colleges are very far apart so we couldn't just visit each other in person on a regular daily basis.
The first to go was Heeseung since his college was the farthest away, so he had to get going earlier than I did. It broke my heart seeing him load away his luggage's into the trunk because it made me really remember that we're separating. This whole summer we had grew so close, closer than any summer we've spent together. And to know that we're just going to grow back apart anyways.
I feel a small tear roll down my left cheek, the saltiness of it burning my skin. There was so many emotions I was feeling at once which made me so overwhelmed that I just was numb. What I do know for sure is that no matter how tough it will be to keep this relationship going I won't stop trying to make this relationship work.
He slams the trunk door shut quite loudly making me bite my lip realizing it was because he doesn't want to leave either. And is trying to take out his anger on regular things that have to be shut hard in his attempt to try and disguise it. But instead, I see right through his actions.
He walks over to me with tearfilled eyes and immediately wraps his arms around me hugging me tightly.
"I can't leave you..." He sobs into my neck. It hurts me to see him like this and I wish I could do something about it but I really can't.
"And also...I have something for you yn," he grabs out a necklace and places it in my hand, "don't open it until I'm gone, okay?" he waits for me to answer and I return him a quick nod.
He gives one last tight squeeze and long kiss before he has to leave. While opening the door he turns and waves at me while blowing a kiss. He turns back around and sits down into the seat. His driver slowly backs out of the driveway, and I see the faint outline of Heeseung's hand in the tinted window and I give a small wave back.
Since he is gone, I take out the necklace he gave me and take a further look at it. It's a heart shaped necklace and it has an opening; I open the heart and see a photo of us together from a long time ago.
But I notice something about the photo it's the summer of us when we were kids, but the specific day is when he kissed me. I now remember it all so clearly, the memories of us when we were out swimming in the ocean, and he "accidentally" kissed me.
I went out to deep in the ocean and couldn't swim very well so he had to swim out and rescue me. While bringing me back to shore he pressed a soft and short kiss on my lips he claimed that he "slipped on one of the rocks" but I always knew he was lying. Which I found super cute and adorable of him and it's also how I realized my true feelings and really understood who they were for. And of course it was for Heeseung.
I look next to the photo on my necklace and spot some writing on it. The words say,
To my one true love, who made me realize what love is actually like. I’ve always liked you more than you ever knew. In the end I’ve always wanted it to be. I love you so much yn. It’s you, it’s always been and always will be.
From: Lee Heeseung ♡︎
He went in and out of my life just like a summer breeze.
280 notes · View notes
ahonice · 9 months
Text
not my boyfriend
luke hughes x fem reader
word count: 9.6k (the google doc was forty pages long idk what happened i got carried away)
warnings: jokes about dying/being killed, drinking, mentions of harassment (none actually happens though, just a topic discussed.) cursing, party games, lots of fighting that could’ve been avoided, VERY unrealistic scenarios and timelines lol, reader is stubborn for no reason and pisses me off (sorry)
note: this takes place during luke’s first full season as a devil. also idk how season tickets work with the devils so... hope y’all enjoy, leave feedback and lmk what you think, love y’all babes <3!!!
+++
growing up in newark meant you were a devils fan by default. which wasn’t a bad thing, your father was a season ticket holder and often took you to games with him as you were the only one of your siblings who was still living at home.
you were the youngest of five, all others being boys, and the university you attended was only a five minute drive from your house so instead of moving into the dorms you continued to live at home. 
at each game you always wore unmarked jerseys, shirts, and hoodies. no number or last names on any of them, you weren’t a big enough fan to have a jersey that branded you so you stayed content with your blank ones. 
+++
it was the home opener for the devils and your father dragged you, along with all your brothers, out to attend the game with him. he managed to get tickets right behind the devils bench this year, you didn’t even want to know how much money he had to spend to get them. 
“dad isn’t this a bit much? the game is going to be the exact same if we were sitting in our normal seats, two levels above.” you asked him once everyone was situated and comfortable in their seats.
“oh shut up y/n, these seats are great and who knows maybe you’ll catch the eye of a cute hockey player and you can live out your trophy wife fantasies.” your brother, who was sitting two seats down from you, teased.
“shut up david.” you said reaching over your other brothers to hit him, which you did…three times.
“would you two cut it out, you’re attracting a crowd.” your father scolded.
he was right, not only were a few people sitting behind you watching, but so were a couple people on the bench in front of you.
you groaned in embarrassment and hid your face in your brother gavin’s shoulder. 
“kill me gav, kill me.” your voice was muffled.
“number forty three is staring pretty hard right now y/n.” gavin wiggled his eyebrows at you.
you shot your head up and made, brief, eye contact with a boy who looked around your age before he quickly looked away. another player, who looked just a little older than you, laughed at him before giving you a wink.
“i’m serious gavin, shoot me right here.” you said, pointing between your eyes. “like i’m a horse that just broke it’s leg.”
+++
after the game you went to dinner with your family before you parted ways. you had picked up your coworkers shift because he had a family emergency and wasn’t able to come in. during the summer between your senior year of high school and your freshman year of college you attended bartending school. you thought that working in the night life industry, especially as a young attractive woman, that you would be getting a lot of money in tips.
and you were correct.
your grandparents were covering your tuition, and since you were living at home there were no room and board charges, but you did have a car to pay for, books and school supplies, as well as an addiction to shopping that you had to support. so the job really was great.
it was a nice cocktail, lounge, styled bar. lots of business meetings took place, and overall upper class patrons were the ones who would visit. it wasn’t rare that local celebrities would stop by, or new yorkers wanting a lower tax on their tequila sunrise. so when a few people on the new jersey devils roster walked in, nobody was surprised. 
“y/n i’ll take bottle service for them tonight if you cover my side of the bar while i’m out? we can split their tip 70/30.” your coworker brian suggested after seeing them all make their way towards the private section, meaning they would not be ordering drinks themselves like all the other people in the establishment. 
“60/40, it’s a saturday night brian.” he rolled his eyes before agreeing, making his way over to the group as you began writing down tickets.
with brian gone you were now the only one behind the bar, it being a busy saturday night you didn’t really have any time to yourself. constantly getting new orders, or people confused why you needed their card to open a tab, you weren’t really planning on taking a break anytime soon. 
“what can i get you?” you asked whoever sat in the seat across from where you were currently fulfilling orders. you didn’t look up to properly acknowledge the customer, but you know they heard you because your question was quickly followed by a long “uhhhhh” before you placed the drinks you had been working on infront of their respective owners.
“while you uhhhh on that, i’m gonna go help customers that know what they want.” you didn’t really mean to be so rude, but you didn’t have time to provide good customer service.
“wait!” you had barely turned around before the customer stopped you. “i’m sorry, it’s just that i am not twenty one, so i don’t know what i can order here.”
“you’re not old enough to drink? how the hell did you get in? because if you used a fake i’m sorry but i’m gonna have to cut it.” you finally looked up from the glasses in front of you to see who exactly you were speaking with. he looked familiar, you couldn’t figure out where you knew him from. probably just a student you’ve seen around campus.
“no it’s nothing like that. i’m here with some of my teammates.” he nodded his head towards the private section where you could see brian making them drinks.
you looked back at his face again before the realization hit you.
“you were the player staring at me earlier.”
“you were the girl that slapped her brother in front of everyone earlier.”
you blushed at his recollection of you, he blushed at yours as well. 
“guilty.” you both said at the same time, causing some laughs to let out before the moment was interrupted by some people on the other side of the bar yelling that they wanted their drinks.
“i’ll be back in a little bit, sorry.” you apologized to the boy before turning to start making the drinks that the customers had ordered nearly five minutes ago, audibly groaning at the line that was forming all around the bar and the amount of people now entering.
+++
it ended up being nearly thirty minutes before the rush of orders you had gotten was cleared and you had time to go back to where that boy was sitting. you weren’t surprised that he was no longer there, but you were disappointed. 
you decided to take the rare break to your advantage and poured yourself a glass of apple juice, savoring the taste before you brought your attention towards the group in the back. brian must’ve really been working for those tips because you had never seen a group so entertained in your life. 
making eye contact with the boy, you smiled as he stood up from his seat, excusing himself from the group being met with a smirk from the guy he was sitting next to, who you recognized as the one who winked at you earlier.
“you know you guys are paying for bottle service, you don’t have to come up to the bar to order drinks. it’s kinda what it was made for.” you said once the boy had sat down in the seat he was in just an hour before.
“i know, but i don’t want the guys to make fun of me for ordering orange juice.”
“are you assuming that i wouldn’t make fun of you? because i would, and i will. i’m team apple juice.” you said, raising your glass filled with apple juice, into the air. 
“can’t drink on the job?” 
you laughed at how stupid of a question that was, just because you worked as a bartender doesn’t mean you have no decorum. “ couldn’t even if i wanted to, i’m nineteen.” 
“oh so you’re my age, well a year younger.” he smiled to himself. “i’m twenty.”
you nodded at his words, too busy closing out a tab to respond.
“how can you work here though? if you’re nineteen. don’t you have to be twenty one?” he asked.
“no, you need to be eighteen to serve alcohol in the states.” you responded, not even looking up.
“got it.” he trailed off, it quickly became awkward as you were too busy to give him the attention he was obviously looking for. “i’m luke by the way, don’t think i told you my name yet.”
“i’m y/n, but i’m pretty busy right now so maybe you could go back to your table. i don’t mean to be rude, but i can’t spend my whole shift talking to you and not working.” you told him, noticing the long line that was beginning to form again.
“oh yea of course, sorry. umm i’ll see you around.” luke said, getting up.
you didn’t respond and just walked over to the other side of the bar where the people who had been waiting the longest were.
luke sighed before walking back over to his group.
“what’s the matter lukey? couldn’t impress the hot girl by ordering an orange juice.”
“shut up jack.”
+++
it was only five days later that your father was bringing you along to another devils game and once again you got dressed in your unnamed jersey and a pair of leggings. you had work right after, having taken the closing shift tonight so you would be able to enjoy the game for at least an hour and a half before you would have to go.
“dad please tell me we aren’t in those seats again. you don’t need to be wasting your money like that, our usual seats are just fine.” you spoke as you followed your dad through the arena.
“sweetie, it is my money to spend and i wanted this. i never miss a home game, all of the money spent is being spent for good use.” you father responded, making his way down towards the glass. 
you had arrived after warm ups were finished so now you were just waiting for the game to actually start. playing a game on your phone, you were easily pulled into a trance and didn’t even realize that the players had made their way onto the ice until your father nudged you.
“y/n would you pay attention? the boy is looking at you again.” your head shot up at his words and you quickly made eye contact with the boy from last week, luke. 
he waved at you before turning around before you even had the chance to wave back.
“that was weird.” you said, not to anyone in particular, but you weren’t aware of your volume because that same guy that winked at you began laughing and pushed luke who was visibly blushing.
+++
“can i get an orange juice? on the rocks.” 
you turned around to see number forty three smiling at you, his hand behind his neck in an awkward stance.
“luke.”
“y/n.”
“is your group here today? we didn’t get any mentions of bottle service being needed tonight.”
“yeah, it was a last minute thing. i asked if we could come to this bar instead of the one we had planned on going to.”
“why? because the orange juice is that good?”
“without a doubt.” 
you laughed at his words before looking over at your coworker. 
“do you wanna do bottle service tonight? or should i?”
“i’ll do it. the general manager is here tonight and you know how she gets when it’s a group of men getting bottle service.” 
“got it, thank you brian.”
you looked back to see luke staring at you confused.
“why doesn’t she like men getting bottle service?”
“it’s not that, there have just been a few too many cases of us having to kick people out because of their behavior towards female bartenders.” 
“has that ever happened to you?” his voice suddenly angry, causing you to look at him funny.
“cool it casanova.” you laughed, ignoring his question because you have. that’s just what comes with a job in the night life industry though. “i have to get back to work, but i’ll see you around luke.” 
dejected, luke made his way to where his teammates were sitting.
“did you fuck up again?” 
“yes…? i honestly don’t know.”
+++
it had been two weeks since that night.
you hadn’t been able to make it to any of the devils games due to coming down with a bug, also causing you to miss school and work. it definitely wasn’t ideal considering it was nearly thanksgiving break, which meant it was nearly finals week. but you couldn’t complain, it was always nice to do nothing but binge watch investigation discovery and drink yellow gatorade all day.
“dad can i come with you to the game tonight? my fever is gone and i haven’t been sick in three days. i need to get out of the house badly.” you asked your father once he made it home from work.
“sure sweetie. i’m planning on leaving in half an hour, i want to make it to warm ups tonight.”  he replied, shuffling through the mail.
“got it dad, i’ll go get ready.”
+++
you quickly got ready for the game. deciding that you wouldn’t wear any makeup tonight, your eyelash extensions were enough to carry the rest of the face. tying your hair into a braid, you got dressed in an unmarked devils hoodie and leggings before throwing your shoes on.
“dad i’m ready if you wanna leave a little earlier.” you called out from upstairs, spraying your perfume on.
“sounds good hun, i’ll meet you in the car.” 
you were really excited for tonight's game, mainly because this was your first outing in civilization in nearly fourteen days, but a little part of you was excited to see luke again. 
a little part of you was afraid he had forgotten who you were, as you had only interacted a handful of times. 
a loud honk ripped you from your thoughts as you could hear your father yelling from outside.
“i’m about to leave without you y/n.”
+++
you sat in your seat playing on your phone as you anxiously waited for the game to start
“what’s got you so jittery?” your father asks, noticing your legs bouncing. “does it have anything to do with number forty three?”
your eyes widened at the second question that came from your father’s mouth.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you spoke defensively.
“well i thought i might ask because he has been staring at you since he got onto the ice.”
you had been so caught up in your thoughts that you missed warmups beginning, and looking up you met luke’s eyes.
you gave him a smile and a small wave, which he returned before number eighty six rammed into his shoulders and luke went back to what he was supposed to be doing.
+++
after the game you decided to tackle the large load of school work that had been piling up from your sick days.
you managed to spend a good three hours uninterrupted before your phone began ringing. you picked it up to see your general manager's contact shown on the screen. groaning you answered the call, hoping she wasn’t going to call you in because there is nothing worse than a friday night shift.
“hey y/n, i’m sorry to bother you but this boy is currently asking about you at the bar and i need to know if you know him or if i need to ban him from the property.” she spoke.
your eyes widened, a little scared because this wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve had creepy men asking about you on your nights off.
“what is his name?” you ask, you doubted it but there was a chance you did know him.
“luke hughes.” you heard him yell in the background.
“yes darlene, i know him. he is harmless, please let him leave the jail cell.” you joked, knowing for a fact she had him held captive in the office. 
“he wants your number.” she whispered.
“just give it to him, and seriously let him go. him and his teammates tip a lot.”
+++
from: *** *** ****
y/n?
from: *** *** ****
this is luke. 
from: *** *** ****
i’m a little nervous that your boss gave me a fake number just so i would leave her alone, so if you could respond that would be greatly appreciated.
to: *** *** ****
i’m sorry, but you’ve reached the rejection hotline. the person who gave you this number is not interested.
from: *** *** ****
lovely.
to: *** *** ****
i’m totally kidding.
to: *** *** ****
this is y/n lmao.
from: luke hughes
that is not funny.
+++
over the course of the weekend you and luke texted a lot. 
mainly just basic information. favorite food, tv shows, some random questions.
from: luke hughes
why do you wear blank jerseys?
from: luke hughes
and blank everything else? you never have a name or number on you at games.
to: luke hughes
that’s just not something i’m into.
to: luke hughes
there isn’t a hockey player i like enough to wear their name or number.
that wasn’t entirely true. 
while you were a devils fan by default, you were a hurricanes fan and sebastian aho enthusiast by choice. 
you had multiple jerseys and shirts with his name and number all over them, but the devils only played the hurricanes on home ice a limited time each season so you weren’t able to break out your collection all that often. 
luckily for you, the hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center in five weeks and that was one of the only things you were truly looking forward to these days, as sad as that sounds.
+++
“the boy who keeps asking for you is here.” brian said to you as he entered the office. 
“what do you mean keeps? darlene just told me about the one time.” you responded, turning your attention off of the roblox game you were playing and towards your coworker.
“because i’ve only ever gotten darlene involved once. he kept asking for your schedule that night and i nearly called the cops.do you know how scared i was? not for you of course, just of the amount of paperwork and witness reports i’d have to deal with. did i ever tell you about the time that one psycho came in here with a butter knife and threatened–” 
“brian focus.” 
“right sorry. he has come in asking for you at least ten times now. if you want me to kick him out i will, i’ve been working out.” brian finished his rant by flexing his muscles, that weren’t even there.
“you’re 5’7 brian. no amount of muscle will make up for that.” you started, picking your phone up. “i’ve got it don’t worry, but thanks.”
to: luke hughes
are you stalking me?
to: luke hughes
because i will get a restraining order against you.
to: luke hughes
i don’t care how attractive you are.
from: luke hughes
so you think i’m attractive?
to: luke hughes
is that seriously all you got from that??
to: luke hughes
STOP BOTHERING MY COWORKERS !!!
from: luke hughes
will do.
from: luke hughes
as long as you agree to go out with me this week.
to: luke hughes
fine.
to: luke hughes
but only because i would like to go one night without my coworkers asking if they need to place your image on the blacklisted board.
from: luke hughes
yeah totally “only because”…
+++
“so you expect me to believe that after the game tonight you are going out with luke hughes. the rookie player for the new jersey devils?” your father asks.
“yes dad.” you deadpanned.
you had told him of your plans for after the game tonight forty minutes ago and he does not believe you in the slightest.
“what did you take for your migraine earlier?” he asks, chuckling. “oh no, did you get into my medicine cabinet? i’m pretty sure i bought those painkillers back in ‘eighty-nine.” 
“you’re hilarious. now can we leave please? warm ups are already almost over.” you said, unamused, while your father was bent over laughing at his stupid joke. “i’m going without you.”
“like hell you are.” he said, snapping up right and marching over to the front door. “if you are telling me the truth i have to meet this boy and talk to him…to ask him if you’re blackmailing him into this.”
he added that last part once he was already outside, you groaned as you heard him laughing from inside the car.
+++
to: luke hughes
i will be waiting in the car park after the game whenever you get out.
to: luke hughes
also my dad wants to meet you.
to: luke hughes
he says it’s because he needs to make sure i’m safe, but really he just thinks i’m lying to him about your existence in my life.
+++
“sweetie when is he coming? it is late and i’ve got work in the morning.” your father asks, for what feels like the hundredth time.
“dad, i’ve already told you that you can leave. i don’t need you here.” you replied, for what felt like the hundredth time.
“what if he kidnaps you? or kills you? he’s got money, he could cover it up in an instant.” he snaps his fingers when he said instant to emphasize his point.
“i would never do that sir.” a different voice cut in.
both you and your fathers heads whip around and you’re met with the sight of luke, looking very good in his suit.
“holy shit y/n you weren’t lying to me.” your dad says, walking up to where luke was standing to shake his hand. “let me tell you kid, i thought my daughter had lost her mind.” 
“dad. please stop.” you stated, annoyed at his behavior, finding a spot to stand next to luke. 
“right. sorry sweetie.” he said before turning his attention back towards luke. “have her home no later than midnight.” 
“yes sir.” luke stated, before your dad turned around and walked towards his car.
“so where are we going?” you ask. “you’re dressed like we’re going to a five star restaurant and i’m dressed like we’re going to a drive thru.” you explained, pointing to the major differences in your attire.
“i’ll meet you halfway.”
+++
“is it too late to tell you that i prefer qdoba?” you told luke as he pulled into the parking lot of a chipotle.
“i think i should take you home.” luke joked, before running around the car to open your door for you, slightly tripping in the process. 
“i should warn you though, i get queso and guac on my burritos.” you told him, knowing that he would be paying.
“what? that’s like an extra seven dollars.” he complains, holding the front door open for you to walk in.
“should’ve taken me to qdoba, it’s free there.” 
+++
the night went very well.
you and luke talked about anything and everything. 
it was fifteen minutes to midnight when luke pulled up in front of your house to say goodbye.
noticing that the lights were on, luke asked if your father really stayed up to see if he had brought you home on time.
“i can guarantee he is currently in his recliner and snoring.” you told luke before you both started walking up the porch steps.
“well i had lots of fun tonight. you should really send me a text whenever you’re bored at work, i can always use my celebrity status to get in while being underage.” luke said once you had made it to the front door.
“your C-list celebrity status?” you started.
“-oh come on, i’m a b-list at least.” he cut in.
“don’t you have better things to do than sit at a bar and drink orange juice?” you finished your thought.
“honestly no. i don’t have any friends in jersey that aren’t my teammates.”
“well if you ever want to go to a party or hang out with me and my friends you always can, just text me if you’re ever bored at home.” 
you said your proper goodbyes and once you stepped into your house you saw your father asleep in his recliner.
to: luke hughes
*image*
i told you he would be asleep. he would never know if we actually stayed out past curfew.
from: luke hughes
did you catch him mid snore in that photo? that’s honestly a violation.
+++
from: luke hughes
i’m bored.
to: luke hughes
what am i supposed to do about that?
from: luke hughes
😑😑😑
to: luke hughes
I’M KIDDING
to: luke hughes
do you not have a game tonight? because i’m planning on attending a frat party tonight if you would like to tag along.
to: luke hughes
unless you are now above frat parties after finishing school.
from: luke hughes
i’d love to join you.
to: luke hughes
great! i was planning on getting there at 10:30. do you just want to drive to my house? my friends are taking me btw and we could always just double buckle.
from: luke hughes
yea sure. what should i wear?
to: luke hughes
oh nothing too fancy just a tuxedo.
to: luke hughes
bowtie included.
from: luke hughes
i hate you.
+++
“will you all please promise to be nice to him and be on your best behavior? i think i actually like this one and i don’t him to be scared away.” you warned your friends who were currently in your room pregaming.
“hey don’t look at me, i’ll be nice as hell to your new boy toy.” your best friend, trinity, spoke. you rolled your eyes at her before looking at the boys who crowded on your floor.
“cal, bass, and tyler.” you spoke firmly, attempting to intimidate them. “i swear to god if any of you make him uncomfortable, all of my images and videos from syllabus week are getting posted on the main.”
“sir yes sir!” the three shouted in unison, only causing your eyes to roll back further into your head.
“just please be welcoming. talk to him, get to know him, do not force him to play rage cage if he does not want to.” you emphasized that last point at kade.
“if he doesn’t willingly play rage cage he isn’t the one for you y/n.”
you were about to make a snarky comment but were cut off by your phone going off.
from: luke hughes
hey i’m outside. should i knock or wait out here?
to: luke hughes
just come inside, front door is unlocked. 
to: luke hughes
we’re upstairs in my room, just follow the sound of shitty music. my friend bass has aux tonight.
you could feel the nerves bubbling up in your stomach. you hadn’t informed the group that your luke was luke hughes, they were all devils fans and were in the know about things so they definitely know who he is.
“he is coming upstairs right now, y’all i’m serious, best behavior.”
the sound of a knock made all five heads turn towards the door.
“no fucking way-”
“shut it!” you cut cal off. “hey luke, come in. there are shooters on my desk if you want something to pregame with. trinity is sober tonight so you don’t have to worry about driving.”
luke makes his way over to your dresser and grabs three shooters before making his way towards the spot next to you.
“everybody this is luke, luke this is everybody.” you motioned your hands back and forth. “tyler, cal, trinity, and bass.” 
you pointed to your friends, who were looking at the two of you with shock and disbelief on their faces, as you named them.
“let’s go to the party, i wanna play rage cage.” 
+++
“is bass your real name or is it just a nickname?” 
after arriving at the party you and your group established where trinity would be all night everyone started asking luke questions, the majority of them were about hockey and the nhl before you texted the groupchat and told them to shut their fucking mouths about his career.
“nickname. my name is sebastian, but this one-” bass grabs onto your shoulders and pulls you in front of him. “-says there is only one sebastian in her life and i am, unfortunately, not him so she started calling me bass and everybody else just latched onto it.”
you glared at him before speaking. “i was being sarcastic when i told you that, and you came up with the fucking nickname.”
“yeah, it’s not y/n’s fault you share a name with the love of her life and future husband.” tyler said, giggling after you hit his stomach.
“okay let’s go play rage cage, y’all need to shut up.” you said making your way outside, trinity informed everyone that she would stay in her spot and to text her if it is urgent. “luke do you play rage cage?”
it was an important question. 
sure most people favor cup pong or even flip up as a party game, but rage cage was what you and your friends dominated at every function.
“i have never played it before. haven’t even heard of it.” luke shrugged. 
everyone’s movements paused for a second before hell froze over.
“WHAT?”
“you’ve never heard of it?”
“what fucking school did you go to?”
“y/n get him out of my face.”
you weren’t even sure who said what, but luke had a slightly scared look on his face. 
“they’re joking luke, let me teach you how to play.”
+++
“so your future husband's name is sebastian? should i even continue pursuing you?” luke asked, jokingly, once you two were left alone in the backyard, tyler had drank one too many bitch cups and needed to be nursed back to health.
“i am most definitely not marrying him. he is six years older than me, lives hundreds of miles away, and also knows nothing of my existence.” you informed luke before finishing your drink. “you should definitely continue to pursue me.”
+++
from: luke hughes
are you coming to the game tonight?
from: luke hughes
i have a proposition for you, if you are.
to: luke hughes
i’m listening
from: luke hughes
you wear my jersey tonight, and in return i win the game.
from: luke hughes
it’s a win-win situation
to: luke hughes
yea for you. i get nothing out of it.
to: luke hughes
also i do not own a jersey with anyone’s name on it, let alone yours.
to: luke hughes
and you are NOT buying me one. if i want a jersey i will pay for it myself…or my father will.
from: luke hughes
fine.
from: luke hughes
but when you become my girlfriend you have to wear my jersey, no matter what.
to: luke hughes
okay, if i become your girlfriend i will wear your jersey.
from: luke hughes
not if, when.
to: luke hughes
i’ll see you tonight weirdo.
+++
“your boyfriend is waving at you.” 
“david shut up he isn’t my boyfriend.” you responded to your brother, shoving him.
you waved back at luke before his smile dropped and he pointed towards the jersey david was wearing. how you didn’t see the name and number on the back before? you didn’t know.
“are you seriously wearing luke’s jersey right now?” you placed your head in your hands knowing the conversation that would come of this. “he asks me to wear it before every home game and i never do, and now my own brother is wearing his jersey and not me.”
“why won’t you wear his jersey?” your brother asks, finishing off his beer. “-and don’t give me that bullshit answer of you never wear anyone’s jersey. you wear aho’s.”
“that’s because sebastian aho is sebastian aho.” you deadpanned. “there has never been a player, besides aho, that i have liked enough to wear their number. i’m not a fan of anyone…besides aho.”
“yeah, but luke’s your boyfriend.”
“oh my god he isn’t my boyfriend, do you ever listen to me? idiot.”
+++
“so your brother wears my jersey, but you don’t?” 
the sound of luke’s voice drew your attention away from the tab you were closing out at work. “i knew you were gonna show up tonight. remind me again why i decided to give you my schedule?”
“because i’m awesome.” luke answered, taking a seat in front of you. “-but of course not awesome enough for you to wear my jersey.”
“are we still on that?” you asked, handing luke a pop. 
“yes we are.” he stated blankly. “seriously i don’t understand why you won’t just wear my jersey. you said you didn’t want to pay for one, and that i couldn’t pay for one. but now that i know your brother has one i would very much appreciate it if you would wear it, to at least one game.”
“i’ll think about it.”
+++
your answer was no. that was three weeks ago and you still had yet to wear a jersey with the number forty three on the back.
tonight you were excited. 
the carolina hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center tonight and you and your friends all got seats behind the canes bench. none of them were canes fans, but this one the one game a year that you had the opportunity to sit near sebastian aho and you would be damned if you missed out on that opportunity. 
from: luke hughes
you coming tonight?
to: luke hughes
yeah.
to: luke hughes
so are trinity, bass, tyler, and cal.
from: luke hughes
oh great, i haven’t seen them in a bit.
from: luke hughes
are you guys going out after the game? it’s a friday night.
to: luke hughes
yes we are. cal’s frat is hosting this sport night thing if you wanna come with.
to: luke hughes
just bring a jersey to change into after the game.
from: luke hughes
oh crap i don’t own any jerseys.
to: luke hughes
you’re hilarious bud.
to: luke hughes
but just so you know i’m not sitting in my usual spot tonight. my brothers are sitting with my dad tonight.
+++
“no fucking way.”
that was the first thing you heard as you got in bass’ car.
“what?” you asked, everyone looked at you in disbelief.
“you are wearing aho’s jersey.” tyler replied, speaking for everyone in the car. “and you’re dating luke hughes.”
“i am not dating luke, you guys know that.” you deadpanned, you were getting sick and tired of people mistaking you for luke’s girlfriend. almost as much as you were sick and tired of not being luke’s girlfriend. “-and you also know that i am a loyal sebastian aho supporter before anything else.” you added the end in a lighter tone of voice. 
“alright, but when luke gets upset with you tonight you cannot be angry when we tell you we told you so.”
the rest of the car ride only one thing, a question, was on your mind, would he really get upset with you?
+++
“oh my god!”
“how many times are you gonna say oh my god tonight y/n?” trinity asked.
she had a point. it was like the only thing that was coming out of your mouth.
“never.” you deadpanned. “sebastian aho is right in front of me. my future husband is right in front of me.” you got more giddy by the end of your statement.
“oh wow y/n, you’re blushing.” cal poked your side. “that’s pathetic.”
“lover boy, two o’clock. does not look happy.”
you looked over to your right and saw luke looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, but bass was right, he did not look happy.
+++
“GOAL!” you screamed, shooting up from your seat. “SUCK IT DEVILS!”
“alright calm down y/n.” tyler said, laughing at you.
“NO! sebastian aho just scored his second goal of the night, if he gets one more i’m gonna lose it.” you replied, sitting back down.
“oh god you haven’t lost it yet?”
+++
to: luke hughes
hey! sorry about the game, you played great :)
to: luke hughes
if you do want to come to the party we’ll be at this is the address.
to: luke hughes
12345 house street
to: luke hughes
i hope to see you there.
“so is your boyfriend coming tonight?” cal asked. 
“not my boyfriend.” you started. “and i don’t know. i just texted him the address for him to meet us there if he wants.”
“ok. real talk,” trinity started. “do you want him to be your boyfriend?” 
“i do-”
you were cut off by the screaming of your four friends.
“shut it.” you snapped, effectively shutting them up. “i do want him to be my boyfriend, but i have no idea if he wants me to be his girlfriend. i mean we’ve known each other for three months and he has talked about us dating in the past but he hasn’t asked me out yet and i don’t know if he ever will.” 
“y/n don’t be like that. i can tell by the way he looks at you and acts around you that he likes you, a lot, and also he looked jealous as hell when he saw whose jersey you were wearing tonight.” bass said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 
“okay enough with the pity party, lets go to the party. i need a drink.” 
+++
from: luke hughes
not really in the mood for a party tonight. 
to: luke hughes
oh ok. 
to: luke hughes
well i’ll see you soon, yeah?
“luke isn’t coming tonight.” you told the group, an upset look rested on your face.
“oh…well it’s probably nothing. i wouldn’t want to go out and celebrate a loss.” trinity said, giving you a reassuring smile. 
“ok i seriously need a drink now.” 
+++
it has been over a week since the game and luke hasn’t spoken to you once. 
all texts have been left unanswered, he hasn’t come to visit you at work, and when you were at the game two days ago he didn’t look at you once.
you were working the closing shift tonight, and it was a monday so it was not very busy. in the past you would text luke and he would arrive as soon as he could, but you stopped attempting to communicate with luke two days ago, after the game. he made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with you.
“y/n, someone is at the bar asking for you.” you looked up from the wall you were staring at in the office to see brian. “not the usual one though. did you and your boyfriend break up?” 
you had a little bit of hope that it was luke for just a moment, before brian told you it wasn’t him. “he’s not my boyfriend. never was.”
you stepped out of the back room to see the other hughes brother sitting at your bar.
“hello jack. what do i owe the pleasure?” you ask, planting yourself across from him.
“we need to talk about you and luke.” he replied curtly.
“there is no me and luke, he has made it very clear that he is no longer interested in being my friend anymore.” you said, pouring a drink for no one, you just needed something to do.
“that’s the thing. he does want to be your friend, more than that. this past week he has not shut up about you and how you guys weren’t talking anymore. what happened?” jack asked, grabbing the now finished drink and bringing it to his lips.
“i don’t even know. we were planning on going to this party at my friends frat together and then after your guys’ game against the hurricanes he flaked out and hasn’t spoken to me since. i’ve reached out and haven’t gotten anything back, i was at the game on saturday and he didn’t even look at me, so if he is upset that we aren’t talking then he is just upset with himself.” you took a moment to catch your breath before looking at jack.
“whose jersey did you wear to our game against the hurricanes?” 
“sebastian aho’s. why?”
jack let out a chuckle and shook his head. “makes sense. he was muttering stupid sebastian aho and fucking homewrecker the whole way home and bunkered himself in his room for days.” 
“i always refused to wear his jersey to games, or his anything, and now i’m realizing i probably pissed him off by wearing someone else’s name and number when i’ve been telling him the whole time i’ve known him that the reason i won’t wear his stuff is because i don’t wear anyones.” you told jack, pouring another drink.
“i wouldn’t say he is pissed off. he is definitely upset though.” jack starts, standing up. “i think you should come to our game this thursday-”
“i always go to your games.” you cut him off. “well come to our game this thursday wearing his jersey. i think that is all he wants…well that and you being his girlfriend.” jack finished, not giving you a chance to respond before walking out the front doors.
+++
“david please, just let me borrow your jersey for one night.” you begged your brother over the phone.
“no can do little sis. just go buy your own, i mean it might be beneficial to own your own luke hughes jersey when luke hughes is your boyfriend.”
“david i’m not even gonna say it, but seriously? where am i gonna find a jersey on such short notice?” “at literally any store in newark. walk down mainstreet and you’ll probably find five in the front window of shops.” david answers, the sarcastic tone in his voice pissing you off further.
“goodbye. i’m gonna go walk around looking for a jersey in the freezing cold now.”
+++
to: luke hughes
hey. i know we haven’t talked in a little bit but i spoke with your brother the other day. 
to: luke hughes
i’m going to the game tonight, if you would be willing to let me see you after i would really appreciate it.
to: luke hughes
i would like to talk to you.
+++
you weren’t able to find a jersey with luke’s number on it so you wore a blank jersey tonight, which kind of crushed your original plan for the evening, but you still had to try.
“are you sure sweetie? because i have no issue waiting until he shows up.” 
“yes dad, i’m sure. i’ll be fine, please go.” you assured your dad, pushing him towards his car.
it wasn’t until forty minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching you. you turned your head around and frowned at the sight of jack hughes walking your way.
“sorry i’m not the brother you wanted to see, but luke left as soon as he could and ubered back to our apartment.” 
you nodded in defeat. “thank you for telling me. i’ll just order myself an uber home then…tell luke i said good game and if he ever wants to talk he can message me.”
“why don’t you tell him yourself.”
+++
trinity would literally die if you told her whose car you were currently sitting shotgun in. 
“luke made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk to me, or even see me. i don’t think this is a good idea jack.”
jack had convinced you that the best thing to do in this situation was to confront luke directly. not as much convinced you, but rather offered you a ride home and said he had to make a stop on the way, that stop being his and luke’s place. 
“y/n luke is miserable not talking to you, and that is making me miserable.”
“well he wouldn’t be so miserable if he would just text me back, he is the one choosing to not speak to me. can we just get this over with? drive faster.”
+++
“luke’s room is down that hall, second door to the right.” jack informed you, you thanked him quietly before making your way to luke’s room. 
you knocked gently and got no response so you knocked again, a little harder.
“jack i’m not in the mood right now. go away.” 
you tried to speak up but nothing came out, so you just knocked again.
“jack i’m serious. this whole y/n situation is messing with my head, i played awful tonight and i just want to go to sleep.”
“well if it’s messing with you so much and making you as upset as jack says it is then maybe you should just text me back and we can figure out how to fix this.” you spoke, frustration clear in your tone. 
you didn’t give him the chance to respond before you made your way out of their apartment and towards the stairwell, ordering an uber as you ran down the steps.
once outside you saw that your uber was about five minutes away so you were forced to just stand there and wait. from: luke hughes
i’m sorry.
from: luke hughes
please come back up. 
to: luke hughes
no.
from: luke hughes
please. let's talk about this.
to: luke hughes
i’ve given you many chances in the past week for us to talk and you’ve ignored me each time.
to: luke hughes
it’s my turn to be upset now.
+++
that was two weeks ago and you haven’t seen or spoken to luke since.
you went to your mothers house is oregon for christmas and came back to new jersey today. 
the second you ended your gift exchange with your father you went up to your room and opened your texts with luke.
from: luke hughes
y/n i’m sorry.
from: luke hughes
please talk to me.
from: luke hughes
merry christmas, i got you a gift. i asked your coworker brian where you’ve been, he said it that you were spending christmas at your moms this year so i’ll give it to you when you get back.
from: luke hughes
please text me when you get back.
from: luke hughes
i need to see you.
you spent a few moments contemplating whether to send a text or to continue ignoring him, even if the later was driving you crazy.
before you could stop yourself you sent a message, and got one back immediately.
to: luke hughes
i’m back in newark.
from: luke hughes
on my way
you slightly panicked when you realized that after nearly a month of silence between the two of you, luke was now going to be in front of you and in your presence again. you didn’t know what you were going to say, worry filled you thinking about the many outcomes that could happen.
“sweetie, luke is at the door for you.”
you timidly stood up and took a deep breath or two before making your way downstairs. 
“hey luke, let’s go up to my room to talk.” 
luke nodded before stepping inside, giving your father a proper greeting before heading up the stairs.
“ok, so can you start off by telling me why you ghosted me for a full week?” you asked him once he had sat down on your hammock chair, you across from him on your bed.
“you wore someone else’s jersey.” luke started, letting out a deep breath afterwards. “after you told me for months that you never wear anyone’s jersey, so you wouldn’t wear mine.”
the sound of your friends yelling “i told you so” played in your head, but you pushed it aside to focus on what was happening in front of you.
luke was now in your closet, where he would find your many, many, aho items.
“luke please get out of my closet.” you were angry, he had no reason to be searching your things.
“how many things do you own of him. jesus.” luke said once he finally walked back into your bedroom. 
“luke i’m sorry that i lied to you about never wearing anyone else’s jersey, but is that seriously why you ignored me?” you were a little skeptical of his reasoning.
“why did you ignore me for multiple weeks?” luke ignored your question.
“because you were the one leaving me on read and skipping out on our plans, but then you went around telling people you were miserable not talking to me as if i was the one who failed to reach out and that made me angry. i gave you so many opportunities luke…and you didn’t take up any of them. so i got mad and i knew i was about to leave town for two weeks and i didn’t really wanna communicate with you during my vacation.”
“why did you lie to me?” luke asked, now taking a seat next to you on your bed.
“i honestly don’t know. i’ve only ever worn aho’s number, just feels weird wearing someone else’s. and i was being honest, other than aho, there has never been a player i like enough to wear their jersey until now.” you sat up from your spot and walked over to one of the gift boxes sitting on your floor, during your gift exchange with your dad you received a devils jersey with the number forty-three and hughes on the back as well as some shirts and hoodies with the same thing. “these were all gifted to me for christmas. i asked for them. i wanted to wear your jersey, i have for a while now, but i was just unsure of what it would mean. can you tell me why you got so angry?” you asked the question that had been on your mind for weeks.
“y/n i like you and i want you to be my girlfriend, i never asked you though because you wouldn’t even wear my fucking jersey no matter how much i begged you to so why would you say yes to being my girlfriend.”
“god luke again with the fucking jersey, i don’t get the big deal it’s just a piece of fabric.” you yelled, getting frustrated. 
“it means something! ok y/n, it means something.” he starts. “there is a difference between wearing a jersey as a fan and wearing a jersey as a girlfriend, something personal and intimate, and you won’t even wear my jersey as a fucking fan.”
it felt like you were talking in circles and it was driving you crazy. 
“that is what i’m saying luke. i didn’t ever wear your jersey because i didn’t know what it would mean. i didn’t know if we were friends or something more, and wearing your jersey could’ve given us both the wrong ideas.”
“what idea would it have given you?” luke asked, taking a step towards you.
“that i’m something more to you than a friend, and i didn’t want to think that because it isn’t true” you admitted the truth, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea, but rather yourself. “-and i don’t like to get my hopes up.” 
luke didn’t respond, he just sat there in silence for what felt like an hour, but was probably closer to three minutes.
“luke if you want to leave, just go. i’m sorry i ruined our friendship, i wish you the best in the rest of your career and life-” 
your words were cut off by lips touching yours, luke’s lips.
after a few moments you broke the kiss, not liking how fast it was progressing.
“luke what was that-”
“i like you, y/n. as more than a friend, that is why i wanted you to wear my jersey so badly. i wanted to feel special, because you have this rule about never wearing anybody’s jersey, but you wore mine and you wore mine because i mean something to you whether that be a friend or something more, i just wanted to feel like i meant something to you.” luke practically yelled, interrupting you.
“i feel like we are both making the same points, but just phrasing them differently each time.” you spoke, trying to choose your next words carefully. “what do we do now? how do we move past this?” 
“well, you could agree to go on a date with me and wear my jersey to the next home game. that would be a start.” luke offered, grabbing both of your hands. “-you could also let me kiss you again, i’d really like that.”
“deal.”
+++
“sweetie are you almost ready? we’re gonna miss warmups.”
“coming dad.” 
you quickly made your way downstairs, checking your appearance in the multiple mirrors you passed by on the way towards the car.
“wearing your boyfriend's jersey i see?” your father quipped once you got into the driver’s seat, he demanded you drive because you had just gotten a new car.
“not my boyfriend.” was all you said in response.
“still? that boy needs to grow a pair.”
from: luke hughes
are we still on for after the game? 
to: luke hughes
yup! meet me in the car park when you’re done?
from: luke hughes
👍
+++
after the game you parted ways with your father, him taking an uber home and leaving you with your car to drive you and luke around tonight. which isn’t traditional, especially for a first date, but you loved betty, your new car, and you wanted to drive her.
“wow the new car is dope y/n.” 
you turned around and saw jack and luke walking towards you, the older hughes speaking.
“-and nice jersey, next time wear an eighty six for me, yeah?” 
“never gonna happen jack.” luke started, before turning his attention to you. “you ready to go?” 
“yes i am, you can put your bag in the trunk.” i opened up the trunk with my keys before getting in the driver's seat. “where are we going?” 
“i’ll give you directions as you drive.” luke said, plugging his phone into the aux.
+++
a few minutes later you pulled into a qdoba. 
“wow you know me so well hughes.”
“i just didn’t feel like paying extra for your queso and guac.” luke deadpanned.
“yeah right, i know i’m turning you into a qdoba enjoyer.” you teased as you entered the restaurant.
after getting our food luke gave me an address of where to drive for our late night picnic. it was a lookout place that luke had found when he first moved here, you had been here multiple times as well and knew of a good place to sit.
“follow me” you hopped over the barbed wire fence and waited until luke made it over to start walking again.
“are you sure this is allowed?” luke whispered.
“i know for a fact that it is not, but it’s fine no one is here right now it’s after dark.” you said back at full volume, earning a loud shhhh from luke in the process.
you walked a little bit more before you made it to your favorite ledge, you could see all of newark from here and a little bit of new york, but when you looked up there was a perfect view of the stars.
“how did you find this place?” luke asked, digging into his food.
“i was hiding from the cops one night and me and tyler ended up here.” luke’s eyes widened at your story. “i’ll tell you more about that later, but ever since i’ve been coming here.” 
we continued to eat and talk about random things until it was time to go.
“we should probably go, it’s nearly midnight.” 
+++
once you finished the drive back to luke’s apartment you got out of the car to say your goodbyes.
“well i had a lot of fun tonight, we should do it-” luke cut you off by kissing you. “you have to stop doing that.” you teased.
“sorry, it’s just that you look really good in my jersey, like really good. i was struggling not to jump over the glass when i saw you during warmups.” luke admitted, going in for another kiss. “look y/n, i was wondering if you maybe wanted to be my girlfriend?” a blush crept up luke’s neck as he spoke.
“i would love that.” you replied, a blush spread across your cheeks.
we said our goodbyes and you drove home, not expecting your father to be awake on the couch.
“oh you’re awake?” you asked, taking your shoes off.
“yeah just wanted to make sure you were safe.” your dad replied. “how is your boyfriend?”
“he is great.” you replied smiling, not correcting him for once because now he really was your boyfriend.
+++
note: BOOOO HAPPINESS no but this literally took me a month to finish because i had absolutely no energy and no inspo to write anything. idk if i like this yet…but ANYWAYS hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback, have a great day, love y’all babes. 
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