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anya-anya002 · 6 months

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𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 (ⅈ)

PastTeacher! Alex Turner x PastStudent! Reader

Summary: You decide to return to your high school, just to look around when you find a familiar friend…still there.

(So I basically got stuck mid story and feedback would be lovely 🧍🏿)

The frigid air kept your cheeks tingly as you walked towards the familiar block. Your heart thumped loudly; you crossed the street you’ve traveled thousands of times before.. Who was still there? Did they even remember you? Were you even that memorable?

Suddenly, you stopped; the big brick building was only an alley away, thinking it all over. You just leaned against the wall of a café for a second. The air-nippy crab apples lay on the sidewalk rotten, half-eaten by insects as their trees stood bare. Windows of nearby houses now closed, no longer friendly to the cold air, and your heart still thumped. What would you do if all your teachers had quit? What would you do if he left? And that's what got you to keep walking.

Your boots clacking against the sidewalk replaced the maddening banging within you. Everything was just how you left it: the uneven pavement, the traffic cone that sat since freshman year still lay broken and scuffed, the reflective tape now gone.

'The Marligian High School for Integral Art,' such a pretentious name, you still cringed, realizing this was your school. You climbed up the stairs and, with a deep inhale, entered.

At the front desk sat the same security guard, except gray and wrinkled. While he drank his coffee idly, you approached.

"Uh, hi," you smiled awkwardly, mind zipped with all possibilities as you watched him look up at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N! Look at you!" he smiled.

The two of you conversed while discussing your reason for being there: just visiting some old teachers and getting a bit of a look at the place while you're here. The security guard smiled, writing out a visitor pass.

"You remember how you were always ringin' that doorbell?" he joked; your cheeks tingled again as you smiled brightly and giggled in embarrassment.

"Stop! Y'know traffic here's ass, and I took the bus with Fredickson, Doogan, and Harrison kids...being early was a mission," you quipped, your smile growing ever so vast, scratching the back of your neck. He chuckled and shook his head.

"You still talking to Sofie?"

"No sir,"

He nodded in response, handed the pass to you, and sent you on your way, at least without worrying about being late like you used to be. Yet, something from here still gnawed at you.

"Uh," you stopped, turning back to the security guard.

"Is Mr. Turner still here?" you asked, hope sprinkled throughout your words. You saw him think about it momentarily. Your cheeks hurt from trying not to smile so hard.

"He's teaching 4th block... The bell ends in like a couple of minutes," he said. Your smile dropped slightly.

"Well, I'll just hang with Mrs. Theroux-" you said, turning the corner, down the long hall towards the music rooms, pass in hand. Pass the walls lined with paintings, the artwork was drawn by students; this time, it was still lives of the city, and the kids today were damn good compared to your friends. You moved closer to even one of the paintings of the train line, and damn, the sunset looked so real. The shades of orange, blue, and purple were blended so well that another smile snuck onto your face. The more you stare at the painting, the more you remember your adolescence, the more you remember him.

Examine the art a bit more, the bell rang. The monotonous, robotic 'beeeep' of it gave you flashbacks of running through those same halls to get anywhere. You shuffled quickly back around to Mr. Turner's room, heart revving up once more.

Your relationship with Mr. Turner was...confusing. You'd heard of him before when you were a freshman; you assumed he was an "arts" teacher with a name like that, but alas, he was just an English teacher with a 'cool' accent.

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #anya—anya #arctic monkeys #snippet #hometown AU #teacher x student #teacher au #my fics #outoftheblue❄️#alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #is this angst #angst

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anya-anya002 · 6 months

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𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 (𝕚𝕚)

PastTeacher! Alex Turner x PastStudent! Reader

(If this was a series would y’all read it? 🧍🏿)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: You decide to return to your high school, just to look around when you find a familiar friend…still there.

When you finally approached the door, you looked to your left to see that the history teacher was gone, replaced with a woman wearing an oversized graphic t-shirt and jeans who ushered out the rest of the students. Finally, you peeked through the glass to see him still here. Fluffy brown hair, now freshly trimmed instead of a voluminous mess or hidden underneath an unexpected beanie or handfuls of pomade.

You couldn't help but smile widely, gazing at your favorite teacher. Adorned in a powder blue button-down and a pair of jeans, he erased the marker board in the dim, empty class. While you watched him idly, you hadn't noticed him noticing you as well, so entranced by him letting all your memories hit you. And then you saw him walking up to the door, your nerves grew.

You backed away, still gazing at him, now thinking about the last time you spoke.

"Y/N," he said, everything in you froze. He looked at you with utter surprise, urging you inside excitedly.

"It's good to see you again, Al," you smirked, sitting at one of the desks near the window.

"How have you been? You're grown." He said, a grin as big as yours plastered on his face.

"Great, I'm, um in college for psychology and Creative Writing." You spoke. You began to ooze with a sorta of pride, your shoulders back, and the grin you hated was slathered all over your face.

"Oh, Y/N, I knew you'd get into something you'd like." He said. All those smiles he gave were like drugs to you, happy that Mr. Turner was still here, but the thought still gnawed at your skull.

The classroom's theme was Farm, and from what you could tell, poems and art from students lined the paper grass-lined bulletin board. Little stalks of faux cattails hang from the corners, and you try not to giggle. He sits at the little hexagon desk beside you as you stare at the little string lights that wrap around the window seals.

“How’s Marligan treatin’ you?” you said, a grin as wide as one stretching their arms outgrew. Alexander groaned, his eyes rolling as he hurried to the desk.

“I don't get them, Y/N,” he started, bringing a hand up to his temples to soothe his oncoming headache. You nod, knowing that sometimes things never change.

“They’re kids.” you deadpanned, looking at him with a neutral face.

“I told you before. You just gotta let them fail. I know you care. That's why you're amazing.” you said. Alex exhaled loudly.

“But how would that be helping them when they applied to be here!” he exclaimed; this must’ve been driving him mad, the paradox of it all. He looked at you, eyebrows raised and face in a scowl as he called everyone you knew out. You weren't bothered by the sting you felt; why be hurt by the truth?

“Yeah, that's true…then, how come you didn't hate me?” you questioned, crossing your legs and gazing at him-longingly.

“What?” he looked at you, almost bewildered, fuck, you tensed up. Eyes did not dare to meet his while you now assumed he’d turn you to salt. However, your mouth opened again.

“Turner, you can't be fucking around. I literally met you when you were proctoring my test, and you joked how bad I was at math,” you pointed out, yet he deflected, eyes shifted as you lift your head.

“So, you had a lot of struggles…and math isn’t for everyone.” He said, which was true. You still counted on your fingers.

“Alex, you know that we both’re aware that my struggles were of my doing. And even then, I was perfectly fine in your classes. I even felt bad when others disrupted you.” you stopped to gaze into his eyes. All those times you've seen his disappointed face when he looked upon your peers, too young to know what to do next after his students just conducted a whole performance in the middle of a Socratic seminar.

“What are you gettin’ at Y/N?” he asked, his lips pursed as the two of you sat for a second. Staring at each other. You wondered if he couldn't believe himself either, you being here.

“Al…I was a failure, I was lazy, I didn't have anything goin’ for me. So how was it that we were always talking?” you asked; your eyes burned again, and the silence crept in again. Alex glanced at you, stunned. You'd call him out on his bullshit, yea, but at least you weren't vague about it. Your eyes narrowed before you spoke once more,

“What did you mean the last time we spoke?” you asked, not thinking he'd remember that long ago, but somehow he did, vividly, his face soured into a grimace.

“I, I just needed to know if it was me that drew us apart,” he said, his voice cracked. Your eyes widened in shock.

“Y/N we talked almost everyday, multiple times for almost 2 years and then during the middle of it all…you stopped, and you just didn't stop, you damn near hated me! You avoided me unless it was class,” he said. Tears began to develop in his eyes as you stayed quiet. This time that sting, stung and stung you hard. The familiar feeling of hurt filled your chest, as you sniffled loudly.

“I stopped because I felt like when I met Sofie and them, I didn't need to cling to a teacher who probably had something better to do than talk to me.” you said now chewing at your lip as you explained it to him.

“You’re not going to actually think I believe that,” he said, you pressed your lips together tightly, forming a thin line. Cheeks tingly as you fiddled with your fingers.

“It's true,” you meekly retorted, he raised a brow.

“I still don't believe you, you've sat in here before with friends before.” he pointed out.

“Al,” you groaned, looking at him with longing and sadness, the way you used to. Your hands rub against your jeans before speaking.

“I left because of Sofie and the girls, yea, I also left because of…other things.” you muttered the last part, to his intrigue.

“Other things….”

“Something…something my mom said that got to me bad. I guess I took it too seriously.”

The comment now echoed in your head as the string lights blinked on and off to an unspoken rhythm. It's yellow light gleamed against the side of his face, the two of you in the dark, tense quiet.

“Was it about dress code? I told you I really didn't feel comfortable enforcing it on you guys I'm sorry.” he said, his voice low and expression sorrowful.

“No, it was something, something else.”

“What’d she say?”

The speechlessness crept in furthermore, this time you were mustering up the courage, or idiocy to finish.

“She said,” you began. As you look into your friends’ eyes, it felt like year's ago. When you sat in his classroom picking his brain about some drama you saw online or asking him about his time off.

"She said, if it were another world or if we were closer in age, we'd go out or something like that," you brushed off the statement as if it hadn't been stuck in your head for so long. You look back up to see Alex's utterly red face, not knowing what to say next like he's just seen you take your head off and throw it at him. You press your lips together and grit your teeth.

"Y/N?" "Yea?" "…Do you agree with her still?"

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him.

"Alex…" "Do you?" he implored, resting his elbow on the desk, eyebrow raised, and lips pursed. It's now your turn to be flustered. You were speechless, like when he constantly asked you 'why' when discussing, but now, nothing to leave your lips, not even an ever so hated vulgarity.

"I," you stammered, absolutely stunned by this revelation, an unexpected outcome. You sat there frozen, just staring at him.

"Y/N, do you still…like me like that?" he asked, his eyes shifting from you to the window. The way he said your name made your stomach flutter.

"Alex, please tell me I'm not oversteppin'…I'll leave if I am. I-" you stopped yourself when you heard a sniffle- Alex was crying, his eyes glassy and hands fidgeting.

"You won't believe how I've felt about you once I saw you just now," he croaked, his eyes now looking you over thoroughly for once as if he'd never seen you before.

"I, I thought you were a breath of fresh air. Students have conversed with me, and I like talking to you guys, yeah…but you, I adored talking to you… you spoke to me like we've known each other for years," he said. Your head spun.

"It felt like you didn't see me as 'Mr. Turner,'" You nodded; most of your time with him, you just didn't expect him to feel the same.

"Felt like you didn't just see some shit kid," you added without much thought. He thought about it and shrugged.

"I saw a smart, mature, witty, young woman who hated everyone in the room," he half-joked.

"Everyone but you," you said to which he laughed.

"Everyone but me, yeah." he smirked, now taking your hand in his. He was cold compared to the stiffling heat of the room. Content, the thing that gnawed at you like termites to a wood cabin now vanished.

"I missed you so Alex," your voice cracked, gripping his hand as tears that've been on edge finally rolled down your cheeks.

"I don't think I've ever missed anyone as much as I did you," you continued, the steaming tears dribbled off your chin and quickly, you reached up and patted them away with a sleeve. The two of you both glanced at each other with tear filled eyes.

"Alex, I love you, I've loved you as a friend since we first met and I loved as something more when you were there for me at my lowest."

Another pregnant pause, you stared at each other's hands and the way they intertwined. His hands were much bigger than yours, his palms were soft, but the parts where his fingers met were calloused.

"Y/N..." he whispered, squeezing your hand firmly. You looked him up and down, your eyes still burned, and your heart overflowed.

"Alex, you left a mark in my mind," you whispered.

What's up with us and silence, you thought. Looking around for once, you noticed how close you were to him, your knees grazing his, elbows knocking.

"You've done just the same thing." he said, you turned your body to him and there you were, face to face. He looked so different now, softer. Your thighs touching.

"Alex, I’m so sorry if I hurt your feelings when I ghosted you…especially for someone like Sofie.”

#anya—anya #my fics #outoftheblue❄️#alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #teacher x student #hometown au #angst to fluff #slow-ish burn #Spotify #alex turner x you

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anya-anya002 · 5 months

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𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 (iv) *preview*

ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀ! ᴀʟᴇx ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ x ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: ….the end of a friend

𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: Taking place 5 months after part 1 & 2, descriptions of negative self image, self blame/ depreciation, mentions of non-consensual filming, hurt/comfort, shaving one’s head

(If this isn’t your cup of tea, feel free to click out 🫶🏿-)

You were trapped, your skin felt like a second layer as your chest heaved, the air tasted metallic and each gulp you took made you think you were dying. You wish you died, it would be less nerve-wracking, it’d be a simple right and wrong. And right now everyone around you felt wrong.

You were shaking, the air not even cold due to it being August. You looked around. Sophie and Layla were dead-set on being up each other’s asses while Kameron had long gone home.

“I’m not wearin’ enough,” you croaked. Your eyes burned trying to keep your sights on everything and everyone. Both pairs of eyes met yours, only for you to rip your gaze from them.

“You look hot, Y/N/N,“ Layla blurted.

“Yea, you’re fine,” Sophie chimed in, the first thing she said to you since you all left the beach.

You pressed your lips together tight, your heart felt like it was rotting whenever you snuck a glance at Sophie. Her skin was smooth, still dripping with lake water as she strutted around the chaotic streets of downtown. Adorned in nothing but her bikini top and a jean miniskirt, prancing, she passes a hand through long, frizzy, jet-black curls. All of the eyes intensified. Men’s eyes peer at you three. You were imploding inside.

Like paintings in a haunted house, they followed your every move. Sending jolts up your legs as you stumble behind.

“I'm literally wearing nothing under this,” Sophie said to Layla, yet the whole city heard. A throuple of babes wandering the big, uncaring city as your heart quickened. Your stomach stirred as your eyes spun around the socket like a clock, scanning around to see every man within earshot, currently leering.

“I want some clothes,” you muttered, your vision now refused to look around. Sophie and Layla are now further from you, two little blobs above one solid line, passing a cart back and forth between each other. Your mind slowly clocking out.

After ‘escorting’ the two to their train station, you couldn't think straight; your mind could only see eyes and the stares that come with it. Just standing there outside the ‘Emerson’ train.

Adorned in your shorts, swim top, and a thin flannel still dusted with sand, you sniffled. You weren't lost, hell in the city, you could never be lost. Yet, there you stood, in the heart of downtown, lost. All the colour drained from you as people passed by. Some stare, some could give less of a damn. ‘Naked and afraid’ was a perfect phrase to illustrate as you heard the familiar clacking and chugging of their train moving.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅: @yourstartreatment @himesuedi

*𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒆 ‘𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅’*

#anya—anya #outoftheblue❄️#alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #fic preview #professor! al #teacher au #hometown au #teacher x student #toxic frienship #is this angst #most definitely #angst #hurt/comfort

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anya-anya002 · 5 months

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𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 *Masterlist*

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘔𝘳. 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘵.

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕆𝕟𝕖

ℙa𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕋𝕨𝕠

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣 *preview*

#anya—anya #outoftheblue❄️#my fics #alex turner #alex turner x reader #professor! al #hometown au #masterlist #former teacher x student #teacher x student #angst to fluff #angst #slow ish burn

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anya-anya002 · 6 months

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𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 (𝕚𝕚𝕚) *full*

Past Teacher! Alex Turner x Past Student! Reader

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Why’d you chose Sofie?

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔….(underage drug *weed mostly* references)

(Wild how this happened to me irl just no Mr.Turner 🙃)

ᴊᴀɴᴜᴀʀʏ 27ᴛʜ 20**

7:05

ᴀᴜɢɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴇᴍᴏɴᴛ (3 ʙʟᴏᴄᴋꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴀʀʟɪɢᴀɴ)

The morning was freezing. You agreed to meet early, but not when the roads and sidewalks weren’t salted; that’s too early. The sun hadn’t yet shown itself as you waddled down ‘Augin’ towards the small cafe on the corner. Checking your phone, you see a message from Sofie. Your stomach flipped. You tapped on it.

‘We’re in the alley near Champagne House.’

You picked up your feet, walking quickly toward the knick-knacks store. You prayed no one would notice you. It's not like you to get caught. You'd have to be crazy or, frankly, idiotic to be seen smoking at a school like Marligan.

Then, another text vibrates on your phone. This time it's Layla. You groaned loudly and waddled even faster down the street, growing even closer to the neon-sparkled store and the darkened alley next to it. You looked around to see no one, not a single car or bus in sight. You darted into the alleyway to finally see the trio of girls.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sofie smiled, trying not to lean against the dirty brick wall behind her, constantly crossing her legs repeatedly to save the leopard print coat she wore. You smile back at her, scanning her up and down as she wobbles around like a top. Your attention then turns to the bottle blonde and red girls.

“Y/N, this is Kameron,” Layla, the blonde, said, her arms out wide in Kameron’s direction. You nodded and waved at her.

After the two of you introduced yourselves to each other, Sofie butted in with a question,

“Did you bring the pipe?” She asked, her eyes screaming, ‘Please, god, you had better.’ You dug in your coat pocket and produced the pipe, to everyone’s surprise and dismay.

“Yeah, here.” You said, an ignorant smile on your face while everyone stared at the pinky-sized, reddish brown, stone “tobacco” pipe that lay in the palm of your hand. Sofie tilted her head, yet Kameron just set up in front of a trash can before anyone said anything.

“Where did you even get this from?” Layla blurted, nearly out of her shoes, when Kameron pulled out a jar of weed and opened it. The foreign yet familiar scent exploded in the narrow corridor. Your eyes darted to the mouth of the alley. It’s not like the 4 of you were conspicuous with your brightly colored coats in the early morning.

“From Champagne House….I stole it,” you said. Everyone seemed understanding, Kameron again having already taken the tiny thing and packed it with pinches of weed. She stood there, patting herself down for a lighter.

“Did they not have any other ones? I got my rose quartz one from there.” Sofie said, gazing at the bowl. Her skin reddened from the cold while she pulled off her lavender glove to reveal a small, manicured hand. Picking up the pipe and carefully inspecting it.

“It’s so…small,” she said. You squinted at her.

“Why didn’t you bring yours? Would’ve been more fun.” You said through your teeth, looking at the others. Kameron held a lighter in her hand, ready to smoke, while Layla leaned on Sofie.

“It broke. My bag dropped when I was heading to my boyfriend’s, and it literally broke in fuckin’ half.” She exclaimed, looking at you with a slight pout.

“Oh, I'm sorry…that shit must suck,” you said, your voice low as Kameron finally sparked up the bowl as if she was shutting all of you up with the metallic flickers of her lighter.

After a few passes of the pipe, the little green, violet-ish nugget was now an even smaller clot of soot. You blew through the mouthpiece, shooting the minuscule ball of crap somewhere within the alley. Your head throbbed, and your eyes clung to your eyelids as you reached for inside the glass jar. Pinching away at the large bud, you filled the bowl the best you could with crumbs.

As you reached for the lighter, footsteps against the alley’s gravel filled your ears. Shoving both in your coat pockets, you looked up to see the honors English teacher, your English teacher, Mr.Turner. He stood in his trench coat, holding his bag and a steaming cup of coffee. He looked surprised to see you amongst the rest.

“I’m not telling anyone if each of you gets to school…now.” He said coldly; you swore you couldn’t see his breath against the frigid air. Each of you bobbed your heads, their faces twitching, trying to hold back their laughter. Yet you stood trying not to collapse or shit your pants. He looked at each before speaking again.

“I’d like to see you during study hall L/N,” and with that, he left. The crunches of rocks beneath his boots sounded so distant as you watched him disappear from your sight.

You spent the entire morning regretting and staring out the window, hoping you’d also be glass so he wouldn’t speak to you about what he saw. His disappointment was burned on the back of your eyelids as you now sat in your math class right next to Sofie, who was texting. She was completely unbothered by the events of earlier this morning.

“Y/N?” Sofie whispered. She shoved her phone in her back pocket and pulled out her passbook.

“Layla said she’s brought her vape, and I have a cart….let’s go to the bathroom.” She said, her voice still hushed, almost like she’d whispered all this in your ear. She must’ve, like a siren’s song. You look around to see that maybe two or three people even cared about the scribbles of numbers and letters on the board. You nod, grab your passbook, and scribble the date and time. You raised your hand to leave.

Once you exited, the halls were empty. Sofie joined you after a few seconds. The door slammed behind her as the two of you ventured to the basement bathroom.

“Let’s take this way,” she suggested, heading toward the stairwell at the end of the hall.

“No-“

“Why not? It’s closer.”

“Mr. Turner’s class is right next to that stairwell.” You explained, mostly not wanting to see him for both your sake. Sofie frowned slightly. Her eyes rolled as she slumped. She then walked to you and grabbed your hand, tugging you towards the stairs.

“So? What’s he gonna do? Sit in his doorway like a sad dog? Besides, it’s not like he’ll do anything…we have passes.” She said with the biggest smile, like how a car salesman does when selling you a lemon. Your eyes zip to and from as you set foot on the step, and your stomach sank

While you climbed down the steps, you could see Mr. Turner’s door from the bottom of your eyes; it was open. You gripped the railing and jogged ahead of Sofie, to her amusement. The thuds of your heavy footsteps grew quicker with every step. Mr. Turner himself stepped out of his room, his eyes meeting yours as your foot missed a step and your stomach fell in your ass at the sight of him.

Clumsily, you caught yourself, scrambling to stand up straight. Your legs felt like pool noodles.

“Do you two have a pass to be out?” He asked, his voice laced with irritation.

“I’m going to my locker,” Sofie said behind you. Mr. Turner folded his arms, turning his ire to Sofie.

“I saw you wander the halls twice today, and it’s barely 10:30,” he retorted. Sofie shrugged, stepping down each step toward both of you. You turned to her, and the sunlight from the large window behind her hit her raven curls, forming a nimbus. Her hair fanned over her shoulders as she tugged on her crop top. She smiled at him innocently, her shiny, glossed lips curled crookedly.

“I left my textbook in my locker,” she said cooly, looking at him like he was a student. His eyebrows furrowed, and she turned to you.

“Why are you out?” He asked you. You went even quieter if that were possible. Eyes meeting his, you never noticed how the hallway lights hit his eyes so that you could see more than just brown, the little ripples of syrupy amber that ran throughout his iris.

“Bathroom,” you said. His gaze shifted back to you for a moment, eyes scanning you up and down as you fidgeted with the plastic spiral of your pass book.

“I’d still like to talk to you during study hall Y/N,” he said to you. You gulped the hard lump that had formed in your throat, and nodded all while Sofie strolled by, into the basement.

In the accessibility stall Sofie was fixing her makeup, Kameron was sat on the railing above the toilet, idly hitting the cart and talking to Layla. You stood there, still staring upon the group and your heart thumped loudly in your ears.

“Y/N?” Sofie said, turning herself to look at you fully, tugging on the loops of her jeans as she looked at you. Her eyes filled with worry.

“You not seriously scared of Mr. Turner are you?” She asked, her snark hidden behind a grin as the cart was handed to her. You looked at Sofie and blinked.

“No,” you stammered through your lie.

She scanned your face, then hummed. Her lips wrap around the ceramic tip of the cart.

“Good because if you were scared you wouldn’t meet up with us during study hall right?” She said. She’s gotta be fucking with you. Your eyes wide as Kameron got off the toilet and fixed her hair in the mirror.

“I- when in study hall?” You asked, still watching her blow smoke in a thin white string.

“I was thinking we try and skip it anyway, I mean lunch is right after.” She said, handing you the cart as everyone else but you had now taken a puff or two.

“I don’t think I can.” You stated to which she gave you a look, a frown begining to form.

“Why not?” She asked, her eyebrows curled in frustration as she leans against the painted brick wall.

“There’s this point in Spanish, I promised my group I’d research all the points for the presentation.” You said, looking at her, a fake frown painted on your face. Sofie looked at you quizzically, her black eyes bore into yours, making you squirm in you skin. Your eyes roll, a cherry a top of your “annoyance”.

She sighed at the news, kicking the air slightly.

“Who's class you're in?” she asked, grabbing the vape from layla as soon as she saw the girl pull it out. You then actually rolled your eyes before she returned her attention back to you.

“Mr. Morris,” you secretly thanked god everyone besides you took French. You watched Sofie smile and leaned against the old sink, still looking at you as if waiting for you to crack.

“Oh yeah, he’s my study hall teacher,” she said, cracking another smile.

“Yea…” you said, looking around to see everyone back to what they were doing.

“Yea, he's alright, kinda annoying though,” Sofie said, fiddling with her top.

“Yea…” you repeated, scratching the back of your neck as your back hit the cold, hard door of the stall. The little bumps of raised plastic dug into your back as you begged to hear the bell ring.

Still gazing at Sofie, your mind went back to Mr. Turner, his disappointed face earlier, the way his pouty lips formed into a deeper frown once he laid eyes on you. Your heart couldn't help but wring itself like a wet towel. It's not like you did anything too wrong. Right? It was barely a puff! A puff wasn't that damning; hell, at Marligan, you're a regular person for weed and a true angel for rejecting it all.

“Y/N?” Sofie summoned. You fluttered out of your thoughts, your vision now focused on your peer. She lifted a brow at you; her body shifted so her hip cocked out toward you. Her eyes shifted down to her hand and then back at you.

“Huh?”

“You’re the only one who hasn't hit it,” she pointed out. You press your lips together tightly, unsure whether to try and push your luck with the third lie or explain how you truly can't wrap your head around today.

“I'm still good from the mornin’,” you said, giving her a soft grin while you tugged at the frayed ends of your sweater cuffs. All this smiling made the apples of your cheeks sore.

“Hey, Michael’s tellin’ me Mr. Roberts called security on us,” you continue, wondering if she'll ever call you out on that one. Sofie shrugged and ran her fingers through her hair idly. You rolled your eyes, stuffing the cart in the little pocket of her jeans, and slipped out of the stall, out of the bathroom entirely.

As you walked further from the bathroom, you heard the familiar harbinger of doom, the staticky screech of a walkie-talkie, so you scrammed. Climbing up the shiny black steps back toward the first floor, wrapping around the corner to be face first with the still opened door, and again like last time, you could see him.

Mr. Turner sat there, a pair of glasses hung on his nose as he graded in the dark. You clenched your fists tightly. Embarrassment filled you as you gazed at him from afar like a giant ship passing a lighthouse.

Inhaling deeply, you inched closer to the threshold. Your shows scuffle against the checkered floor of the hall that transitioned to the class's hardwood floor, catching Mr. Turner's attention. His eyes were bug-eyed from his glasses as he spun in his chair to face you.

“Y/N,” he spoke plainly. Crossing his legs, you couldn't help but hold your eyes there momentarily. You were staring at how Alex’s thighs couldn’t be more contained within his slacks.

“Hey,” smiling crookedly, paralyzed by his taking notice of you.

“You know…you were downstairs for a while,” he pointed out. You shrugged, not knowing what would happen next.

“Yea…I have a clock…” you said, folding your arms. The passbook is now your shield instead of an excuse as an eye at you. A knowing smirk crept on his face before speaking.

“If you had an actual clock instead of a phone, you’d realize you got five minutes of class left,” he said pointedly. You pulled your phone from your back pocket to see it was indeed 11:10. All the blood drained from you while he gave you a knowing look.

“I was in the bathroom,” you retorted, your eyebrows furrowed.

“For half an hour.” He said. You rolled your eyes at him.

“I didn’t feel good,” you lied.

“Y/N,” he said. Looking you dead in the eyes through the darkness. Mr. Turner was having none of it.

“Come in,” he said, his voice low. You felt like a mouse being lured into a trap. You stepped inside, walking to the desks that sat right before his. He sat up in his seat and looked at you.

“What’s going on with ya’?” He asked, his eyes softened as his lips peeled into a frown.

“You’ve been very…defiant lately, y’know. You could’ve gotten yourself expelled this morning,” he said.

“Mr. Turner, people openly sell here,” you sarcastically stated, folding your arms and reclining in your seat.

“Look,” he began, running a hand through his hair and folding his hands in his lap.

“I don’t care what you do in your free time outside the vicinity of this place,” he said, looking you in the eyes.

“But I’m worried about your in-school relationship with Sofie,” he cooed, removing his glasses and leaning against the desk to look at you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned your head away from him.

“She’s fun,” you said, rolling your eyes slightly and crossing your legs.

“She’s trouble,” he said; you looked at him like he had told the worst thing about your mother. A scowl appeared on your face as you sat up toward him.

“She is not trouble; she’s literally my best friend,” you said. He laughed at the notion.

“Y/N, she’s constantly being caught by security,”

“And who the hell are you to say all that?”

The two of you gawked at each other, his eyes wide in shock as you frowned at him intensely.

“Y/N,” he said. His eyebrows furrowed, and his grimace softened.

“You know the company you keep reflects on you.” He finished. A look of dead, seriousness painted his face.

“But I don’t do anything, Mr.Turner, you know that.”

“Who cares what I know?”

You kept your mouth shut and listened.

“Y/N, anyone could’ve seen you in that alley and actually done something about it.” he sternly said, his eyes bore into yours as you tightened the fold on your arms.

“Why didn’t you?” You whispered. He blinked at you, speechless. The air was tense, and his eyes glossy. Your stomach lurched at the sight, yet you were still there, stubbornly.

“Because I know you’re a good kid.” He said. You sighed rolling your eyes again and unfolding yourself.

“Is there anything going on at home? Anything you need to talk about?” He asked, clearly concerned for you as you look out the window and shrug once more.

“What do you do wh-“ you’re cut off by the ring of the cold, robotic chime of the bell.

#anya—anya #my fics #alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #outoftheblue❄️#teacher x student #angst #iii #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #is this angst #characterization part ig 🧍🏿

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anya-anya002 · 6 months

Text

𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 (𝕚𝕚𝕚) *preview

Past Teacher! Alex Turner x Past Student! Reader

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Why’d you chose Sofie?

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔….(underage drug *weed mostly*and alcohol references, toxic relationships.)

(Never let Grammarly edit ur shit-)

ᴊᴀɴᴜᴀʀʏ 27ᴛʜ 20**

7:05

ᴀᴜɢɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴇᴍᴏɴᴛ (3 ʙʟᴏᴄᴋꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴀʀʟɪɢᴀɴ)

‘We’re in the alley near Champagne House.’

“Y/N this is Kameron,” Layla, the blonde said, her arms out wide in Kameron’s direction. You nodded and waved at her.

After the two of you introduced yourselves to each other, Sofie butted in with a question,

“Did you bring the pipe?” She asked, her eyes screaming ‘please god you had better.’ You dug in your coat pocket and produced the pipe, to everyone’s surprise and dismay.

“Yea, here.” You said, an ignorant smile on your face while everyone stared at the pinky-sized, reddish brown, stone “tobacco” pipe that lay in the palm of your hand. Sofie tilted her head, yet Kameron just sets up in front of a trash can before anyone said anything.

“It’s so…small,” she said. You squinted at her.

“Why didn’t you bring yours? Would’ve been more fun.” You said through your teeth, looking at the others. Kameron held a lighter in her hand, ready to smoke, while Layla leaned on Sofie.

“It broke, my bag dropped when I was heading to my boyfriend’s and it literally broke in fuckin’ half.” She exclaimed, looking at you with a slight pout.

“Oh, ‘m sorry…that shit must suck,” you said, your voice low as Kameron finally sparked up the bowl, as if she was shutting all of you up with the metallic flickers of her lighter.

#anya—anya #alex turner #alex turner x reader #my fics #outoftheblue❄️#arctic monkeys #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #teacher x student #is this angst #angst #snippet #fic preview #characterization part ig 🧍🏿

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