#with the recession coming up a lot of my coworkers have come out of the woodworks to talk abt their experiences | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blue-mostacho · 4 months

Text

~Cherry Bomb~

Warnings: mentions of SA (not detailed), alcohol and drug abuse.

I decided to just change up a little bit the introduction of the prologue. I hope it doesn't disappoint you guys, it doesn't mean that the Billy romance is completely out of the table. That's not the case AT ALL, like, not even close. I just chose to change it up a little bit so it fits better the fic as it could lead anywhere.

I chose two songs to accompany this first chapter, you will find a symbol with the name of the song right at the beginning. As you read the chapter, the symbol will appear signaling the moment you need to play the songs and when to stop them.

Before you start reading it, please read the prologue for full context.

You can find it here.

I hope you enjoy!

Previous part (prologue), just in case bc I panic xd

Chapter One - Bruises and burgers.

★ Afraid - The neighborhood

☆ Kickstar my heart - Mötley Crüe

The tick-tack coming from the clock hanging on the wall is giving me an eye tick. I roll my eyes as the boredom is driving me nuts, yawning I stretch my back, lifting my arms. Another shitty day at work with shitty customers and shitty coworkers. I'm not very fond of people, I've never really had a lot of friends, in fact, I don't even recall having friends as a little girl. Of course, I had a couple of kids with whom I would play at recess, but that was it. In high school, I would hang out with different groups of people, but I never felt like I really belonged to any of them. It wasn't their fault though, I just didn't feel that way, you know? Like, I never had no one to rely on. On the other hand people didn't seem very pleased with my presence either, so...

It never bothered me too much, I liked being alone. I used to spend a lot of time in my head, making up stories of all sorts, fake scenarios and adventures. I had fun that way. My whole life revolved around books and comics, movies, and any other medium that would enrich my imagination. Although I must say that over the last few years, I have met some wonderful people, like Don. I met Don a couple of years ago, I'd landed a pretty decent job at an arcade in California, and the paycheck wasn't bad at all, he was my coworker. He wasn't into video games or comic books, but he needed the money to pay for school loans. Since I liked working there, the thought of settling down, getting a small room in a shared apartment, and starting a new life didn't sound bad at all. I did for a while, I was 20 at the time. I'd spent two years on the road and it was starting to take a toll on me. Everything was going well, but remember what I said about never having a real group of friends? Yeah, well, I actually had one for a short time. ★ I used to do night shifts at a local bar since I needed the extra cash to fix my car, which had broken down. When I said I had a rusty car, I really meant it. Every night, a group of six people around my age would come in and spend the night playing cards, drinking, and doing the usual shit people in their 20s do. I was the only one covering the nights, so it wasn't long until we became friends, especially since one of the guys in the group had his eyes on me. I liked hanging out with them. Soon, my shifts stopped feeling like work. Most of the nights they were the only customers, so I would just sit at the table with them and play poker until the end of my shift.

In the beginning, everything was fine, just a handful of wannabe adults having fun here and there, nothing special. But as the weeks went by, I started to notice small but weird details, I brushed them off. After all, they were in their twenties, living in a place like California, so of course things like alcohol and drugs were something usual.

During my first months in California, everything went well, I was convinced I made the right decision, but life wasn't planning on making it so easy for me, so eventually things started going south.

Don tried to warn me the few times the guys showed up at the arcade. I guess he could see something that I didn't. There's not a day that I don't regret not listening to him. I was so caught up in my own world that I missed all the signals until it was too late, and I know I deserved everything that happened.

With each passing week, everything turned more and more sketchy. New people started joining them at the bar, some of them were older, way too old. I just knew that they weren't just playing poker anymore. Slowly, they were going down a really dark path, and I was being dragged down with them.

I tried to stay out of it, but one night, one of the guys, Axel, showed up at my door. He was covered in blood, his own blood. That was his first mistake because after that they wouldn't leave me alone. I guess they assumed I was his girlfriend and tried to send him a message through me. We were actually pretty close, that's why he came to me when he needed help.

That night, he told me everything that'd been going on while I was nursing him up. After that, I understood why it's said that young people are stupid. Because we are.

Long story short, they got involved with some nasty drug dealers. I'm not talking about Eddie type of dealer. It was more of a drug network, they used to party a lot which led to them experiencing with strong, exotic substances. Safe to say they became addicted quickly, which resulted in consuming every day, and those substances were also expensive. So by the time Axel found himself knocking on my door, they were all in deep debt, and that's why he got the beating of his life. They did fuck him up real good, I was freaking out trying to convince him to go the ER to check for possible concussions. Needless to say, he refused.

After that I distanced myself from him and the rest, but as I said they already fixated on me.

Weird things started happening to me. It didn't last long though, just a couple of weeks. But I guess that's what you get when you ignore the red flags.

Don was there the whole time, he knew everything and kept insisting I cut off any ties with them, that just distancing myself wasn't enough.

I still saw them from time to time, especially Axel and Nadia, a breathtaking blonde with baby-blue eyes. I will never understand how she managed to fall into something like that, I swear she is the sweetest girl I've ever met.

I tried to help them both as much as I could, but it was to no avail.

Everything got too much for me on Axel's birthday, we all gathered to celebrate. I wasn't sure about going, but he insisted. That was his second mistake, and it was also mine. Don tried to talk me out of it, but we were just going to have dinner. They were planning on going to a club after that, but I'm not a party person, so I would just skip it with the excuse of having to work the next day. And that's exactly what I did. I had dinner, and then I went home, or at least I tried.

I will never forget that night. It was dark, the dining place we chose wasn't far from my home so I didn't take the car.

To this day if I close my eyes I can still feel the pain radiating through my body.

I would've ended up worse than Axel the night he showed up at my house if it wasn't for a couple of passers-by, but i was too late anyway. By the time the two strangers interfered, the other men had already managed to rip off my clothes between punches and have their fun with me on time. My entire body was aching, and the cold air didn't help soothe my already shaking figure.

After that I just left, nobody knew except Don. He was the only one I called once I managed to get into my house.

Eight months. That was the duration of my time in California. After that, I spent three months driving nonstop until I found Hawkins.

Today marks one year since that night, and I still shudder at the memory.

You're probably wondering why I decided to stay here after what happened, why not keep on traveling and avoid any attempt at a more stable life, or maybe go back home? Honestly, I don't know. I guess the contrast between this small town and a big city was too appealing after everything that's happened. Not gonna lie, my friendship with Eddie did help too. Of all the people that I've met in all these years of traveling, he's my favorite one. But I'll never tell him that, the fucker won't stop pestering me about it.★

The ticking of that goddamn clock still drumming in my ears pulls me out of my thoughts. I zone out a lot more than before, but I got used to it.

I groan annoyed, looking at the time. I still have thirty minutes left and I pray to God that I don't get any customers.

It's almost Christmas, so everything is decorated with tinsel and colorful lights, the streets smell like freshly lit fireplaces mixed with aromas of holiday sweets that had just been taken out of the oven.

I love Christmas, but like, obsessively. Although this year is kinda hard to get into the festive spirit, around this time is when I miss home the most. Reliving that night doesn't help either, it feels like my body knows exactly what day it is and decided to keep bringing the memories back on a loop. It's not like I think about it all the time, but sometimes it just comes to my mind like a slap on the face.

I shake my head, pushing those thoughts away, tired of the subject. I realize that I can start with my closing routine, first flipping the sign on the door as always. Soon enough I'm on my way to my car, not before grabbing some instant ramen and a few other snacks from the store. Sometimes, I walk to get to work, but the cold air of Indiana's winter is unbearable at this point.

It's a ten-minute drive home, it's already dark outside, it's almost 10 pm so my headlights help me see enough so I don't crash.

As always, I drag my feet to the entry of my roulotte, cigarette hanging from my lips like a ritual. My eyes fall on Eddie's trailer as it's parked thirty feet away in front of mine, just like every day. He's home, so as soon as I set foot in my house, I just throw my bag on the bed and rush outside again.

I make my way to the long-haired boy's door, I don't even bother knocking. Once I open it, the warmth of the house hugs my body as I make my way inside.

–Momma's home!- I shout, to make sure he can hear me. But I get nothing in response. I can hear some struggling, a frustrated 'fuck' coming from the living room. I look to my right just to find him lying on the floor with his arm under the couch, his neck hurtfully bent as his head rests on the front of the piece of furniture.– What are you doing?

–What does it look like I'm doing?- he tries to turn his head to look back at me, but clearly, he fails. I walk over there, swinging my legs over him trying not to step on him. I crouch, so now I have a perfect view of his face, it is red, and the vein on his forehead looks like it's about to explode. His bangs are bathed in sweat as he keeps struggling.

–I don't know, you tell me.‐ I try not to laugh as the words leave my mouth.

–My fucking arm is stuck under this thing.- he punches de couch with his free hand.

–How did it end up there Eds?- I don't even bother to keep it in anymore and a laugh comes out from the bottom of my chest.

–Oh it's just something that I enjoy doing...what do you think? My fucking guitar pick fell under it!- he starts out with a calm tone full of sarcasm and ends up yelling with a pitched voice.–Could you just help me already?

I laugh even harder, but I get up and place my hands under the side of the couch, lifting it up, freeing his arm. He rubs his now red, almost bruised, bicep as he mutters a "fucking couch" under his breath.

–You're welcome.- I let it down again and let myself fall on it.–Didn't it occur to you to just move it to the side?‐ His eyes snap up at me.

–Well, obviously not smartass.- getting up to sit beside me. I lift my hands in a surrendering.

–Okay okay, chill.- but I am laughing hysterically, which only increases his bad temper. His face turning red again.–Anyway, I brought ramen. Do you have any clean pots?.- I turn to look at the kitchen only to find the sink full of dirty dishes.–Nevermind.

His back is now laying against the cushions, he's lookin at the ceiling, putting on display his side profile.

Eddie has long, curly hair that falls a little lower down his shoulders. Big brown eyes, right under the waves of his bangs. We actually have the same haircut... kind of. The only differences being the orange dye in my hair compared to the chocolate of his locks, and mine has a lot more layers and volume. We're pretty similar in a lot of things, even in clothing.

His skin is pale making his pink lips stand out more as he bites on his bottom lip thinking.

–I'm too tired to cook right now.- he says with a dramatic sigh.–Why don't we go out?‐ He tilts his head to look at me.–I could use some fresh air.-I roll my eyes.

☆–Okay but I'm not driving.‐He shruggs nonchalantly.

A few moments later I'm handing him the keys to my car, as he enters the driver's seat. The sound of the engine roaring in the trailer park as he speeds off.

–The guys really want to meet you, you know?- I'm deep in thought when his voice fills the car, gaze lost in the window while i suck on a cherry lollipop.- Dustin wouldn't shut up about you after he met you.

–I mean, I will be having a few days off from work during the holidays.- I say, taking the sweet out of out my mouth, focusing on him. He's been trying to introduce me to his friends for a while now, I usually work double shifts so I barely have any free time. I kept promising him that I would find some time, but it's nearly impossible. After all, we are short on people at the store. But I did meet Dustin one evening after work, I'd stomped into Eddie's place unannounced as always. They were so focused on the videogame they were playing that I almost killed them from a heart attack. Kid's pretty cool though.

–Maybe you could join the D&D Christmas campaign.- My eyebrows rise in surprise, he's very picky about the people he allows into his D&D club. I've been pestering him about it since I came here, but he always would spit out something along the lines of it not being just a game, life or death situations and not allowing himself to recruit nothing but the best warriors he could find. Everything in a very dramatic way, just as he is. Even after I told him that I've been playing for years now, he wouldn't change his mind. Saying that the key word was "playing", and that it was enough for him to know I wasn't worthy of a place in his fantasy world or the Hellfire Club.

–Are you okay? Do you have a fever or something?- I tease placing the back of my hand on his forehead, fake concern lacing my voice. He pushes it away, not moving his eyes from the road.

–Shut up.- he laughs.–I'm just tired of listening to you bitching about it.

–Yeah, sure.‐ chuckling I place the candy back I'm my mouth looking outside the window again. I don't need to look at him to know that he rolled his eyes. He stretches his arm to reach the cassette of the car, turning up the volume and banging his head to the beat of Mötley Crüe. He speeds up the car almost to its limits, enjoying the thrill of the adrenaline as he laughs vibing to the song.

It only takes us two more songs before my car is far behind parked as we reach for the door of Richie's, I swear they make the best burgers here. The place is full, diferent groups of teenagers spread throughout the ample space. We make our way to a table and just as we were about to sit down, someone shouts behind us.

–Munson!☆

Next chapter.

23 notes · View notes

scumscuttlers · 20 days

Note

eavesdrop (if it's not too late!)

send me “eavesdrop” and my muse will describe your muse like they’re talking to a third party

You're halfway through a cigarette, trapped in some drab, concrete building while you wait for the sun to go down.

You remember having this conversation before. Maybe it was a variation of it, a bit of thoughtless small talk flowing in one auricular sponge and out the other while you spat out equally meaningless responses. It had to have been sweeps ago, because you don't recognize the brown eyes staring back at you.

"No, but there's this... teal." You disguise the time it takes you to think of something else to say by taking another drag of your cigarette. When it burns down to the butt you let it drop and smother it beneath your boot. It's still a long, long while before you say anything else.

"She's kind of intense, older than me, got a lot on her plate." There's a second where you consider explaining the wriggler thing, but you don't. No one here does that, and you don't know the circumstances of how Advoca became a mother anyway. "She's like a, uh, professional. Smart."

By that point you're checking out again, sliding another cigarette out of the carton you keep in your jacket and lighting up. You could probably keep going, get more and more specific by the sentence, but you don't have the energy for it and you don't owe your coworkers a glimpse into your personal life (no matter how bored you all are). They can continue the conversation without you.

Notes

I had a great idea come to me for writing this and told myself I would remember it when I woke up. I went to sleep without writing anything down. Obviously, I did not remember.

I think Inezra is weirdly taken by how in love Advoca is with love because it resembles her own obsessions. She's gotten over how annoying she found it at first and actually listened to what Advoca had to say last night in the watch party. It struck a chord. Not consciously though. God forbid Inezra be aware of anything going on in the recesses of her own mind.

So far Inezra doesn't have a strong opinion on Advoca, positive or negative, but that will probably change. Their conversations are enjoyable, and Advoca gets her to think a little more than usual instead of disregarding everything.

#Ask #graviconscientia #[ACTION POST]#[OFFLINE]#// Sometimes I just write these stream of consciousness. Other times I actually edit them. it shows.

5 notes · View notes

demonicintegrity · 6 months

Text

Yknow with the fact that everyone my age is like “ah fuck we’re in a recession and the housing market might crash soon” and that General Air, I’ve kinda accepted it might just be a slim chance if I ever have a retirement. Part of it is the career I’m choosing, but part of it is the Everything.

Y’see a normal full time job has you put some money in for your retirement and then they put money into it. And should you be working for them for X years (and the number keeps growing) you can get the partial/full amount of it at age Y (number also fluctuates) and it seems like a lot of my parents generation has/had this. Something they will get if they don’t have it already.

But two problems are now present with the current model of retirement: one being that the money it gives you just isn’t enough to survive anymore. There was no accounting for how the cost of living and inflation would affect how far a dollar can go. So now we see people who had to come out of retirement and work a bit to make up for the difference. And two, how to build your retirement was never really taught in schools. My mother had to tell her coworkers how to maximize their plan in the current job they all have because they just didn’t know and reading legal/economic jargon is just kinda difficult for a lot of people.

Your other option for a/an additional retirement plan is working with someone who can invest your money in a portfolio. Stocks and all that stuff. But as far as I’m concerned that’s fake money earned through wizardry, I have no fuckin clue how the hell that actually does something.

So now say you’re 20/30 something and you wanna try and have a retirement. Your options is actually be able to work full time at a job that offers retirement benefits and actually stick with it for like 20+ years or invest money you don’t have in a portfolio. It’s not new that a lot of places deliberately don’t have you on for full time so they don’t have to pay those benefits. And the only two careers I know of that promise a full retirement in only about 20 years of work is the military and being a cop.

So what do you do? I think the options generally are morbid.

Wait for your parents to die, sue someone and win, or win the lottery.

For me at least, that is the only conceivable way I’ll ever get a large amount of money at once. (And even then, watch most of it go to student loans lmao)

And it’s morbid. Thinking your best bet into have a comfortable to retirement amount of money is your parents dying. And even that is coming from a place of privilege. But I’ve heard it before! Being upset that your parents are dead and it’s stressful planning the funeral but also feeling guilty because that chunk of change feels good to have. It’s morbid and rightfully taboo as shit to acknowledge but getting a significant amount of money when someone dies might actually help you outta a bind.

The second is suing. Americans in particular have a rep for being a lil trigger happy about lawsuits. And I think it’s for two reasons. 1) it’s the only way to truly guarantee someone has to be held accountable and even then it’s a hope and 2) we’ve romanticized getting a lot of money outta it. Because we need it.

Y’know that older but still prevalent joke that “hey if I get hit by a uni bus at least they’ll pay my tuition?” Yeah no they won’t. Not anymore at least. I’ve had several adults working at my college say they won’t, they’ll only cover medical costs from the incident bc it’s happened so much. Apparently you also have much better luck suing the bus company itself than the school. But it is textbook romanticizing a shitty thing because a lot of money would be nice.

Sidenote: maybe if we had a functioning healthcare system that wasn’t driven on profit we wouldn’t have to be entirely reliant on suing someone to have impossible medical debt not kill us

And it’s also because you don’t realize just how slow and expensive the legal process is until you’re in it. And how much of a difference having money to throw at a court case makes. But that’s why settlements outside of court are so so tempting. Again, it’s also a degree of privilege.

So here’s your last option: the lottery. Which is just gambling. It’s 100% gambling and hoping it works. And a 1 or 2 dollar lottery seems relatively low loss on you for a whatever billion win. Whatever that comes out after taxes is still enough to keep you alive the rest of your life provided you don’t blow through it.

(Side thought on the lottery. If the state has like, a lot of money set aside to give to a random lucky person, why not just actually divide it and give it to the people? Or put it towards the roads/a school/whatever program??

The current mega millions jackpot for 10/24 is $114,000,000. $114 million dollars. So that’s not a lot if you split it out to the population, but I still don’t understand why not put that jackpot money into the roads instead of the amount earned with people buying lottery tickets. Idk idk it just feels like the state is dangling money over you head sometimes. Heehoo look at this money that could quite literally save your life come dance for meeee)

So it would seem the only guarantees for getting enough money to live (cuz remember the minimum wage isn’t livable anymore even with full time hours) let alone retire is some combination of privilege and luck. Lucky us.

#I just woke up and decided to ramble it seems #capitalist hell #America

2 notes · View notes

mralexsan · 1 year

Text

San Francisco Tech Industry

Today's Twitter news cuts deep to my big fears of being in this industry. First time as a professional I've been through a recession, and seeing such wasteful and abusive management at the expense of so many's livelihoods… and knowing the pain of being laid off... and it being so bad you'd rather throw away your job and livelihood to willingly go unemployed.

Sure, they'll bounce back. But they'll struggle until then.

Building a career.

Proud of our work, keeps us going.

Working class at six figures.

Six figures but struggle to survive.

The World blames the 1% "Liberal Tech Elites" for the problems the 99% made by using the platform themselves.

The problem is thee, never me.

NIMBYs blame change and keep things broken.

The problem is the undesirables - Black People People from Oakland.

Our coworkers who got the axe and are now out on the streets begging to survive The homeless.

Criminals who organized to survive by robbing others because it's too damn expensive to live here because all of the low paying jobs aren't living wages thugs.

Man child billionaire burns millions.

Billions earned stealing tax payer money to fund his shitty car company.

To be a modern day William Randolph Hearst Charles Foster Kane.

Cuts fat for his wasted money, on a company that makes no money.

Making it harder for employees to live and survive.

Fuck Elon Musk.

Dunno, felt like writing my disjointed thoughts on everything. I'm not a Twitter employee, but close enough to some affected. It's a struggle out here if you don't have one of these jobs. Cities like San Francisco, Oakland, San Jose need to density and build to be people friendly, but people here insist on owning a home. The Bay Area and Los Angeles/Orange County is one large surburbia, causing the housing market to soar... And this balding man, whose whole personality is a 14 year old Modern Warefare troll, comes in, demanding we buy his shitty car, congesting roads, calling public transit disgusting when that's the solution to SF/LA's housing/traffic problems.

California has a lot of work ahead. I'm up for the challenge.

#ramblings #poetry?#disappointed #tech life #techlife #rip twitter #fuck elon musk #workers of the world

0 notes

diaryofahealingbxtch · 2 years

Text

I had a hard time returning to work after my maternity leave was up. I wondered why. A year later and I still struggle to just GO. And if I do go, I leave early. I can’t stand being there. I thought maybe it’s the job.. so I applied to new ones. I got 3 interviews.. possibly 4 had I ever called DQ back. I didn’t go to any of them.. it was the same struggle I had to go to work. So it wasn’t just my job being the issue.

I talked it out with one of my coworkers who used to act as my therapist when we were both part timers together. She admitted to me, that she also struggled going back to work despite her kids being school aged. She got to be a stay at home mom for years she said, but even going to her part time shifts were gruesome when she no longer needed to be home to care for the kids. She missed them profusely, the same way I miss mine.. however, I am okay leaving her in order to do something fun?? I miss her after a while, intensely. Maybe it’s because I know i can leave a social situation without consequence of losing my pay & friends. Fuck, that kinda makes sense actually. I dread being at work because I can’t leave without occurring attendance violations. I’ve always had an issue with attendance because of my mental health.. I wonder if I could qualify for FMLA because of it 😂 no, seriously, I got truancy in the 4th grade because of my issues. I had to go to court, do community service during my recess.

Back to what my coworker was explaining, she gave me a beautifully said statement.

“You aren’t in control of the situation with your kid and your home when you’re not there.” Yes, exactly. And I further elaborated that when I get home there’s so many things not done the way I would’ve done them had I been home. I’ll come home to an unmade bed like one of my prior posts, and some saucy dishes still sitting unwashed from the night before. I’ve been trying to get a better handle on how my home is so I’m not so devastated to come back to all the day to day annoyances. As much as I try to pick and choose my battles, my mind cannot handle letting things go. I know Trent is a great father, he dedicates a lot of time ensuring Junie’s safety & happiness. He does have less patience than me, but that’ll come in due time. I’ve learned to be very patient just putting up with him for the last 4 years. I say that very lovingly though, because I don’t really think there is a better guy out there worth fishing for. Because fishing doesn’t always mean you got a catch. I do think I could be happier alone at times, but why risk ruining a good thing to test that. We’re happy, Junie’s happy, and we are both willing to keep working towards maintaining it.

0 notes

angie-likes-to-art · 2 years

Text

Currently Untitled Single Dad!Bucky Fic III

Pairing: Teacher!Reader x Single Dad!Bucky Summary: You made a promise to yourself to not sleep with any parents before starting teaching, little did you know the guy you slept with two days before is the dad of your cutest student. Word Count: 5834 Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption (characters are of age), so much fluff A/N: Thank you guys for being so patient, as a thank you here's a long ass chap

Masterlist Part One Two

“Did you have fun at the potluck?” You jumped at the voice coming from behind you. You turned around to see the strangely smug face of your coworker, the teacher from the classroom to the left of yours.

“Uh… yeah, it was really fun.” You gave her a sweet smile and looked back at the first graders on the playground.

“Yeah, it sure looked like it,” She smirked and bumped her shoulder with yours, to which you responded by cocking your head and raising your eyebrows, “I just mean, you were getting awfully close to Rebecca’s dad.” she raised her hands in faux defense and let out a snort.

“We were just chatting about Becca,” You defended, hoping she didn’t also see you left to go to the diner together, albeit in separate cars but still together. “He was telling me about how she talked about my class a lot at home.” You added.

“That, I believe, she’s usually attached to your hip.” Your coworker nudged you again as you spotted Becca with her belly on the swing’s seat spinning it up and picking her feet up to spin her around the opposite way.

“Yeah, she’s a sweetheart.” You felt a smile painting itself across your face as you watched the girl, you remember her getting whipped cream on her nose the second her milkshake was sat on the table, Bucky wiped it off with his index finger with a chuckle and stuck it in his mouth with his intense eyes gazing into yours, causing your breath the hitch momentarily before giving him a teasing glare.

“Can’t say the same for her father, can you?” She let out a laugh and you tilted your head once again, you remember Bucky mentioning that some people considered him a ‘bad parent’ for whatever reason. “Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know, huh?” She asks when she sees your confused face.

“No, I haven’t heard about that.” You lied, but she didn’t need to know exactly what you talked about with Bucky or what you did with Bucky.

“Well, I guess I should just warn you” She suddenly got really serious and turned fully toward you, “He’s trouble, not the kind of guy you wanna hang around with.”

“What? What kind of trouble? He didn’t seem bad from the conversation I had with him.” You wondered if it was something really bad, that even your coworker was warning you. Was he still with Becca’s mother, was he cheating on her? Did he constantly sleep around? If that made him a ‘bad parent,’ then you’re not much better after last summer. Just as she was about to get into it, another coworker blew her whistle to signal the end of recess.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” she told you before gathering her class in a line in front of her. You did the same, leading the children back to your classroom to get back to your lesson plan. But in the back of your head, different scenarios of how Bucky could possibly be this horrible person people are making him out to be, you felt so out of the loop suddenly.

At the end of the day, you handed Becca off to her father and quickly thanked him for the previous Friday night at the diner.

“I had a really good time,” You confessed, avoiding eye contact, knowing how hot your face was getting.

“I did too, I’m glad you came, I know little one was happy about it too.” He laughed out and strapped Becca into her car seat. You could tell she was nodding enthusiastically even from your place on the sidewalk. He turned back to you after he shut her door.

“Maybe we can do it again? Just the two of us?” He suggested, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and you let out a sigh, half from what he was suggesting and half from the sight of his toned, tattooed arms.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Bucky.” You started and saw him let out a sigh as well, “As much fun that I had last Friday, it’s just inappropriate.” you were being honest with him but decided to hide your slight apprehension from the rumors you’ve heard. You can see a wave of disappointment flash across his face for a moment and then back to a cocky smile.

“You want to, though, don’t you?” he teases while he leans back on the car and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Of course, I want to,” you state the obvious with a laugh and a shake of your head.

“Then I’ll get a yes one of these days.” he pointed at you as he made his way around to the driver’s side of his car and you gave him a playful eye roll.

The next couple of weeks of Bucky picking up his daughter from school went like this, him offering to take you on some corny date after he set Becca up in her car seat, and not that you’d admit it to him but he was wearing you down. The way he caught Becca in a hug when she ran toward him, the cocky way he crossed his toned arms over his chest, and his damned smirk made your heart swell.

Your nights spent alone in your apartment left you imagining what a real date with Bucky would be like. You imagined cooking with him, making the chocolate chip cookies you gave him at the open house. He would wrap his arms around you as you were mixing the dough, he would push your hair away from your face and press a kiss to your cheek and down to your jaw, before he could get any further, you’d smoosh some of the mixture onto his face. You imagine he’d jump back at the cold sensation, but would tighten his grip on your waist, pick you up and spin you. Or the two of you go to a cozy cafe, get coffees and pastries, find a comfy booth, and really get to know each other. You’d open up to each other, telling him all your stories, he’d tell you about his life before Becca, how she came to be, maybe he’d even tell you what the rumors were about. And that made you snap out of your daydreams, you remembered your coworker promised to tell you what she knew about him, but she never did. Maybe you’d have to ask her about it.

“Ms. L/N, what are you doing for Halloween?” one of your students piped up, looking up from their worksheet.

“Hmm, I’m not sure, I think I’ll just be handing out candy,” you responded, walking around the room to see how all the kids were doing on their sheets. “What are you guys doing?”

This led to all the kids talking about their Halloween plans and costumes and quickly derived to this weekend’s plans. Their attention spans are about as little as they are.

“Daddy and I are going to a birthday party!” Becca jumped up from her seat.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” you tell her and turn to listen to all your other students' plans. After a few minutes, you wrangle them back down to work on their assignments.

At recess that day, you reminded your coworker of the conversation you had a few weeks ago, but right before she could tell you anything one of the little boys in your class falls from the top of the slide, lucky it wasn’t too high but will definitely with cause a couple bruises on his little knees. You sit with him in the nurse's office while his scrapes are cleaned up and tears are wiped off.

At the end of the day, you focus on handing the hurt boy over to his mother, letting her know what happened and how he was taken care of. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw another teacher giving Becca to her father, his eyes on you, you turn to him and offer him a wave and smile, he gives you one back and grabs Becca in his arms but doesn’t move to put her in the car. You gave him a curious look but turned back to the parent you were chatting with to finish your conversation. After seeing your student was strapped into his car seat safely, you turn to see Bucky with Becca in his arms still standing by his car. You make your way over to the two watching a grin grow on Becca’s little face.

“How can I help you two?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips and giving them a suspicious look, somehow knowing they’ve got to be up to something.

“A little birdie told me,” he nods toward the girl in his arms who still has the big grin on her face, “you were interested in the party this weekend,” Bucky explains with that damned smirk.

“Oh, I just said it sounded like it was gonna be a lot of fun,” you shifted your weight from leg to leg. Becca lets out a whine and gives you her puppy-dog eyes.

“But Ms. L/N, you said that before Daddy said you were coming to Happy’s with us,” she insisted. That made your heart break, you didn’t even think that saying that again would make her think you were coming with them.

“Aw, sweet girl,” you swipe a tear with your thumb, from under her watery eyes, “I wasn’t invited, I wouldn’t want to crash the party.”

“You’re always invited, and it’s really more of a cookout than a party, just a couple of friends,” Bucky adds.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you look back at him and shake your head.

“You’re not, really,” He goes to touch your cheek with the hand not holding Becca, but quickly redirects it to adjust her in his arms, “We both want you there, right peanut?” he looks down at her and she nods, still giving you her puppy-dog eyes.

“Okay,” you breathe out and lock eyes with Bucky, who cracks a smile, and Becca in his arms celebrates with a fit of giggles. You knew you wouldn't have been able to say no to the pout on the girl’s face, she must have learned that from her time in your class or that was something she used to get away with stuff at home too.

“I’ll pick you up at nine?” he asks when he turns back to you after sitting her in the car.

“You know where to find me,” he nods and gives you a wink before getting into the car himself.

The next morning you woke up at six in the morning after a fitful night of sleep, needless to say, you were nervous to meet Bucky’s friends. Do you introduce yourself as Becca’s teacher or Bucky’s friend? Are you guys even friends? While you’re in the shower, you imagine a bunch of ways the day could go and what Bucky’s friends are like, and if they’d even like you. After spending a bit too long imaging scenarios and rehearsing introductions you get out of the shower, tore through your entire wardrobe to pick out the perfect outfit that’s casual but looks nice but doesn’t look like you were trying too hard. Once you decided on the look, you set it out on the bed and take your time to make yourself coffee and breakfast, and kill some time scrolling through your phone. By the time you’re finished eating and washing the dishes, you hear a knock at the door. You check the time on the oven clock, 8:16, he shouldn’t be here already. You run over to the door and check the peephole to see Bucky running his hand over his scruff and holding a bouquet of flowers.

“You’re early,” You griped while opening the door, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he admitted, “plus I was in the neighborhood.” He adds he raises the flowers to emphasize them. You give him a playful squint to faux suspicion but can’t help the smile painting itself on your face. You move to the side to let him in and get a flashback to the night you met Bucky and you led him into your apartment and to your bedroom. You watch as he takes in the space, seeing it with sober/ not hungover eyes, but before he had the chance to say anything you come to a sudden realization.

“Oh shit, I’m not even dressed!” you gasped pulling your bathrobe tighter around yourself and quickly scramble to your bedroom, hiding your body behind the door, only letting your face be seen.

“Doll, we’ve seen each other n-” He laughed out.

“Don’t finish that sentence” you warned and he gave you a dramatic eye roll at your ridiculousness. “We’re not gonna talk about that.”

“Fine, fine, you get dressed, I’ll find a vase for these,” he relented and held up the bouquet to you. You thanked him and told him where he would find a vase while you got dressed in a pair of mom jeans, a black turtleneck, and chunky black boots. You looked yourself over in the mirror and decided the look was enough to make you seem put together but didn’t scream you were a teacher, although the lingering pieces of glitter on your shirt certainly was not helping.

You peeked from your bedroom to the kitchen of your apartment where you heard Bucky looking through your cabinets. You watched as he reached up to the top shelf causing his shirt to ride up and give you a view of his lower back, although he didn’t let you savor the view because he grabbed the glass he desired. You let yourself take a moment for your face to cool down before walking over and leaning against the island counter and thank him again for the flowers. From the other side of the counter, he placed the bouquet in the vase and nudged them toward you, causing you to take them into your hands and take in the subtle sweet scent and notice a small envelope in the center of the grouping. Keeping your face toward the flowers you cast your eyes up to Bucky to see he’s already got his on you, paired with a small smirk.

“Bucky,” you stated, almost like a warning because you had a guess of what could be on the note.

“Open it already.” He tells you, slowly making his way around the counter until the only thing between you is the bouquet. You pluck the envelope from its stand and focus on opening it and pulling the note out; your nervous hands making is a more difficult feat than usual. Bucky gently brushed a lock of hair away from your face and kept his large hand on your jaw for a moment and then let it fall onto the counter. On the note was a phone number signed with a little heart and J.B.B. A grin threatened at your lips and you made no effort to hide it as you traced his initials.

“You’re so cheesy,” you tease, placing the note back in the envelope for safekeeping and to put in your phone later. “So, where’s Becca?” you ask, trying to change the topic and stop your mind from racing from him merely touching you.

“She stayed over at my friend Nat’s place last night because she insisted on helping set up for the cookout” he answers, relaxing back on the island. You chuckle at the thought, imagining her crossing her little arms and pouting as she does in class when it’s time to clean up.

“Nat.” you repeat to yourself to file away in your memory, “who else am I gonna meet?” you ask, trying to prepare yourself. Bucky explained who would be at the party and a quick description of them and how he knew them as you left your apartment and took the elevator down to the lobby. You repeated all the names in your head as you followed close behind Bucky and lightly bumped into him, not realizing he stopped on the sidewalk. You look up to mutter a quick apology and notice he’s stopped in front of a motorcycle. You go wide-eyed and look around for his car you’ve seen at school.

“You’re joking, right?” You try to confirm and hear him chuckle as he grabs the helmet hung off the handlebars and lifts the seat to grab another.

“What? Are you scared?” he quipped, cocking his head and holding out one of the helmets over to you. You hesitantly take it and rotate it in your hands, getting a good look at it.

“Uh, yeah,” you declared as if it was obvious.

“I promise I’ll be safe for you, darlin’.” he lowers his voice and uses his index finger and thumb to lightly grab your chin and makes you face him and stays like that until you nod, not breaking eye contact and you feel all your worries washing away. “Plus, I’ve been riding this bike for years and I’ve never crashed.” He backs up, spreading his arms open to make a point. He kicks his leg over the bike and gestures for you to follow. You take a step closer to him and the motorcycle.

“Wait, you don’t put Becca on this thing, do you?” you question him.

“No, no, not until she’s older,” you visibly relax at his answer, while he slides his helmet on his head and flicks the visor up, “next year maybe?” he jokes and nods his head to push the visor back down.

“Bucky,” you gasp and playfully push his shoulder. You hear a muffled chuckle from underneath his helmet, you grip his shoulder to balance yourself as you kick your leg over the motorcycle and find a spot on the seat behind him, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist after you place the extra helmet over your head.

“You ready?” he calls back to you and you can hear the grin on his face, and you nod into his back, “Hold on tight.” As he finishes he revs the engine and speeds off.

You immediately tighten your grip around his waist and press your helmeted face into his back. Scared for a minute, you keep this position until Bucky reaches back and gives your thigh a quick, comforting squeeze before going back to the handlebars. At the feeling, you lift your head and open your eyes that you subconsciously squeezed shut. Suddenly you feel the autumn air rush around you, the wind and the revving of the engine fill your ears, and the street and everything around it becomes a blur as the two of you speed by. The only thing you can focus on is Bucky, the warmth of his body in your arms, the way he turns his head to the side to check on you in his peripheral vision, and the way you just know he’s got a grin plastered across his face.

Feeling the confidence emanating off his body calms your nerves a bit until the two of you pulled into a long gravel driveway off one of the main streets downtown, Bucky maneuvered his way between a grouping of parked cars to a spot with a couple of other motorcycles. From the driveway you could look out over the yard and see people milling about, groups were chatting, laboring over a grill, or watching the children running around, making sure they didn't get into any trouble. You went to follow Bucky around the house to where everyone was but you couldn’t make your feet move. He notices the lack of your presence after a few strides and looks back with confusion that turns into concern.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he breathes out on his way back over to you, giving you a comforting smile, “everyone’s gonna love you,” he places his hand on your jaw, “Becca already does,” you both let out a laugh, the sound of which calms your nerves once again. He moves his hand down your jaw to your shoulder and finally to your hand and gives it a squeeze. He, gently, pulls you over to the yard reassuring you with each step. As you come into view of Bucky’s friends, you hear the squeal of a familiar little girl.

“Daddy!” Becca exclaimed and skipped over, “Ms. L/N!!” somehow she bounded over even faster and lept into your arms.

“Hi sweet girl,” you laugh as you catch her and Bucky shakes his head in disbelief and grabs her from your arms.

“I’m offended, peanut,” he deadpans and squeezes her tight when she starts to giggle, “You like Ms. L/N more than me?” he asks the girl who’s loving the attention from two of her favorite people.

“No Daddy, I said your name first!” She beamed and threw her arms around her father’s neck. You loved to watch the Barnes interact, you've seen them meeting after a long day almost every day but you know you’d never get sick of how excited Becca gets or how Bucky’s cocky or tough demeanor melts away when he gets his daughter in his arms.

“Good, do you wanna help me introduce Ms. L/N to everyone?” He sways her in his arms and she immediately begins to nod, “Who should we meet first?”

“Uncle Steve and Uncle Sammy!” she answered and pointed at the two guys manning the grill and having an animated conversation. While the three of you are walking over, Becca rambles about her night with Auntie Nat and how she helped put the decorations up and snacks on the picnic tables.

“Ah, there’s the jerk, we thought you were bailing on us!” The taller blonde, you guess was Steve from Bucky’s description of his childhood friend, teased as Bucky came into earshot. You trailed behind a little bit, hiding behind Bucky’s larger frame to calm your nerves and let him lead the conversation.

“Come on, I couldn’t miss AJ’s birthday, and the little one wouldn’t let me live if it down,” he bounces Becca on his hip while he catches up with the two men.

“And who could this be?” You caught the eye line of the man you assumed was Sam, who was pushing past Bucky.

“Y/N,” You met your hand with his and offered a sweet smile.

“Sam,” he confirmed, “How do you know these two? I thought everyone Buck knew was already here.” He teased, making both you and Steve chuckle, Bucky on the other hand let out a sarcastic laugh and punched Sam’s shoulder.

“Ms. L/N is my teacher!” Becca piped up, making Sam and Steve look in between you and Bucky with confusion and curiosity.

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a nod and explained you’d recently moved from campus after graduating and were new in town. You noticed the two sending a raised eyebrow look to Bucky, even seeing Steve mouth something that looked like ‘young’. You could feel the tension building just like you feared since you agreed to come to this cookout. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and avoided the eyes of the group.

“So what made you want to be a teacher?” Steve finally spoke up after what felt like agonizingly long, but in reality was a second or two, to break the tension that made you want the ground under you to open up and swallow you whole. Though the question warmed your heart, you loved talking about your career choice, you liked having a purpose that you know would have an effect on the world, but simply, you had a soft spot for little kids.

“Especially when they’re as sweet as Becca.” you finished your rant punctuated with tickling the girl’s side, who was still sitting on the hip of her father. The conversation was a lot more comfortable after the change of topic. Steve told you stories from his and Bucky’s childhood and their time in the military and Sam told you about their time in college and how they all were party animals.

“And this guy,” Sam gestures to Bucky, “Huge ladies man, every time we were at a party, within minutes, he’d be talking up some girl who was wrapped around his finger like he is around Becca’s little finger” You gave a surprised look at Bucky who brushed off the story with an eye roll.

“What about you, Y/N? Were you a partyer in college?” Steve asked after telling a heavily censored story of Bucky bringing a girl back to their apartment and going at it five times before coming up for air, which you definitely believe after your night with him.

“During college, no, I spent my weekends studying.” You answered.

“No way,” Bucky responded after letting Becca run off after she got bored of the conversation that she didn’t understand.

“Yeah, I even graduated a semester early because I didn’t party or, like, go out at all.” You explained, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hmm, I’m not sure I believe that,” He doubted, causing you to look over to his friends as if to say ‘can you believe this guy?” who were looking in between the two of you with the same curious look they had when Becca revealed you were her teacher.

“How would you know, Buck?” Sam teased with squinting eyes.

“Fuck off, man,” Bucky brushed him off once again, “I’m gonna introduce her to Nat and Wanda.” He said as he places his hand on the small of your back to lead you away from Sam and Steve after saying your goodbyes and nice to meet yous.

“They like you,” Bucky informed you, you don’t know why but you got a scene of pride from knowing that. Why were you so happy they liked you? Why did you need Bucky’s friends to like you?

“Good, they’re really cool,” you breathed out with a smile and meeting eyes with Bucky, who was smiling too. The two of you made your way over to the deck where the two women were sat back chatting and sipping on cool drinks. Lemonade for the one with longer hair that you assumed to be Wanda and a glass of wine for the one you guessed was Nat from the blonde bob and the aforementioned wine.

“Ladies,” Bucky introduced, leaning on the fence that bordered the wooden deck.

“Bucky, who’s your friend?” the blonde gestured her glass at you and gave the familiar curious, cocked eyebrow look to Bucky. You’re not sure how these looks should be interpreted. Are they surprised he’s introducing any girl to them? Or are you some type of flavor of the week they all have an inside joke about? Does it have anything to do with the looming rumors hanging over his head?

“I’m Y/N, I’m Becca’s teacher.” you choose to tell them yourself rather than have Becca run over and change the course of your conversation. Both of them introduce themselves as well, Wanda even getting up to pull you into a warm hug.

“Oh, the elusive Ms. L/N?” Nat recognized.

“Oh my god, she talks about you so much.” Wanda laughed out.

“That’s what Bucky says too,” you explained, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“Did you guys meet through her?” Wanda asks, you and Bucky look to each other for the answer. He shook his head in uncertainty.

“Yeah actually, Bucky was actually late to the open house, he showed up just before the other parents left, so we had time to chat and get to know each other.” You told them but kept your eyes on him, watching as a small smile played on his lips at the story. You heard Nat and Wanda coo at the two of you and told you how they knew Bucky and the others at the party.

“Hey, I’m gonna say hi to the birthday boy,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned in close to your ear but spoke loud enough for Nat and Wanda to hear, “You good staying here? I’ll be quick.” He checked, lowering his voice just for your ears, you nodded since you felt instantly comfortable with the girls and fell right back into conversation with them after Bucky made his way over to the kids playing near a tire swing.

“Okay, seriously, how’d you actually meet him?” Nat asked after you finished telling them about your time at the diner.

“What do you mean?” you played innocent.

“Come on, something definitely happened between you,” Wanda answered, pointing toward you and where Bucky was throwing the kids in the air and catching them before giving the next one a turn.

“Can you guys keep a secret?” You asked, still watching Bucky with the kids. Nat and Wanda were nodding excitedly when you turned back around and they hung onto every word of your story like the kids in your class when you read them a book. In turn, they told you stories of their flings. Wanda says she met a guy named Vis through Tony and she really likes him and Nat told you she and Steve had hooked up a few times over the summer. It’s clear who the romantic of the two is.

“So, are your guys dating or what?” Wanda rested her chin in her hands and had a starry look in her green eyes.

“Oh, uh,” you started, not sure how to answer. You told Bucky it’d be inappropriate to date, but here you were at a cookout birthday party meeting his friends. No matter how many times you tell yourself you were there for Becca and that you just didn’t want to disappoint her, you can’t deny you wouldn’t be able to see yourself in this position with the other kids in your class. You also couldn’t deny the feelings you had for Bucky or the skip in your heart when you caught his eye from across the yard. He had both of Sam’s nephews thrown over his shoulder but didn’t miss a beat before giving you a wave and a big grin. You reciprocated the gesture before turning back to the girls, still not knowing how to answer. “I don’t actually know. Besides the night we met, we haven’t seen each other without Becca as a buffer.” You explained the interactions you’ve had with him and asked for their advice. They were eager to tell you to go for it, Wanda told you to not worry about how Becca would see you as she already loved you before she knew you knew her father. If things were to end badly between you, she would still get to see you at school. Nat told you that it was clear that Bucky already had it bad for you. You were one of the first girls he’s talked about with the group of friends, let alone brought to meet them. And having Becca already like you certainly helped develop his feelings for you. The conversation quickly diverged to a slightly tipsy Wanda asking Nat how Steve was in bed. A similarly tipsy Nat was happy to spill the details, but you couldn’t make yourself listen, even if a part of you wanted to. You hid your racing mind and staring eyes at Bucky and the kids behind a glass of wine offered to you by Nat. You watched as the boys he was playing with run off, starting a game of tag while Becca skipped around in the grass collecting clovers.

“And then, he did this thing with his hips-” Nat explained, wiggling her hips as a visual aid before being cut off.

“Do you mind if I steal Y/N away?” Bucky placed a hand on the small of your back, not waiting for an answer before pulling you away. You quickly say bye to the girls who give you encouraging looks.

“I wanna show you something.” He tells you, briefly grazing his hand over your hip on his way to grasp your hand.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask with a laugh as he pulls you around to the other side of the house.

“It’s a surprise.” He looks back at you with a smile and leads you to a path dividing the tree line. “You’re gonna love it.” He assures you and gives your hand a squeeze. The path is mostly natural dirt, aside from the old wooden steps staggering the decline and transitioning to a dock. At the sound of your feet on the wood, Bucky maneuvers his way behind you, easily seeing over your head and shoulders, with his hands on your hips, he gently pushes you, encouraging you to walk forward. After a few feet, you push some branches out of your way to reveal a large lake surrounded by trees and freckled with rocks and stones, both around the perimeter and poking from the steady clear water. Through the trees, you see other houses with similar docks to the one you’re on. You feel arms snake fully around your waist and a chin resting on your shoulder.

“What do you think?” he breathes out, just below a whisper, as if anything louder would ruin the moment.

“It’s so beautiful,” you answer in awe, at the same volume as Bucky, taking in the scene.

“Yeah, you are,” he speaks in the same gentle tone, you almost didn’t hear him. Almost. In response, you give him an unimpressed side-eye. “C’mon, doll, you set me up for that one.” He defended, speaking at a normal volume now. You turn around in his arms, facing his broad chest now, quickly getting distracted at the cold metal of his dog tags between your fingers. “You really are,” he says after a moment.

“So are you,” you squeak out, almost not trusting your voice with him this close to you. His lips turn into a smile, his eyes flicking down towards your parted ones, causing his tongue to poke out and drag across his upper lip. With Wanda and Nat’s encouragement in your mind, the feeling of his hot breath on your cheeks, and the glass of wine you downed, you found the courage to push up on your toes and meet your lips with his. He responds immediately and pulls you closer against him. Your lips melt together and move in sync, you can taste mint and the beer he was sipping on his tongue. Breathlessly, you pull back from his lips and watch as he blindly tries to join them once again, you rest your forehead against his and let a shaky breath out.

“Thank you,” you mutter against his lips, he hums in confusion, “for finally convincing me.”

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #soft bucky #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x you #modern au #teacher!reader

178 notes · View notes

heyheyloki · 3 years

Text

U&I

Summary: The reader begins to realize his feelings for Saiki.

Saiki x M!Reader

Word Count: 8711

1. The Best Friends

Being friends with a psychic definitely had its ups and downs. At first, you didn’t notice a thing out of the ordinary with Saiki, well, granted you were kids when the both of you met so naturally you just wanted to be friends and thought nothing more. However, he noticed something odd with you the moment you two met.

He couldn’t read your mind.

Actually forget being about to read your mind, none of his psychic abilities worked on you. He couldn’t see through you and when he touched you without his super thin transparent gloves on nothing happened. You were basically immune to him.

At first, he thought something was wrong with you, or that maybe you had some psychic powers as well. That wasn’t the case at all. In reality, you were a normal human without any powers or tricks. That stumped Saiki even more, but it also became the soul reason he wanted to be your friend as well.

For one, he didn’t have to deal with your thoughts. Two, his image of you wasn’t ruined because he can’t see under your skin. Three, your calmer personality made him relax. And of course all those other things like your kindness and stuff, but those were irrelevant the moment he knew he couldn’t read your mind.

It’s been years since he met you in the park during recess, and now here you guys were, 16 years later and still friends. Oh, there was one thing that bothered him about you.

“What to hang out today?” You asked as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Sure.” Saiki said. Yep. That’s right, since he can’t get in your mind, he actually has to move his mouth when he talks to you.

It was a bit weird to others that he never did it with anyone else other than you, but he didn’t care.

On the way home he couldn’t help but notice you eyeing his antennas, the things that keep his powers stable. He turned his head towards you and gave you a curiosity look.

“Do those things poke at your head at all?” You asked, moving you hand up to poke at the top of the pink ball. “Like, does it make your head ichy?”

Saiki shook his head. He knew he had to talk to you at some points, but times like these he didn’t. He enjoyed that about you too, that you don’t force him to talk all the time. You knew it was a bit weird for him to talk, he explained it to you when he told you all about his powers.

“Hm,” you hummed out. Your hands going back at your side and into your pant pockets. “It would for me, if I was you. They just look painful, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do if you don’t wanna blow up the world.”

Saiki nodded his head, his eyes continuing to linger on you. It was one days like these when he saw you thinking so hard about something that he wished he could just take a peak. At some points, he loved the silence, especially when the both of you were watching movies, but right now, especially in this moment, he’d give anything to know. It was mostly prominent when he’d stare at you during class and you’d have this far out look in your orbs, you drew him in, and perhaps that’s why he fell for you.

Though, there were other factors that won his favor. Mostly the fact that, unlike everyone else, he can’t stare right through you and just see your raw muscles and pumping organs. Instead, he was able to focus on your handsome face and not get side tracked about your racing thoughts. You were the only person in the world that make him feel somewhat normal. That was a love-hate relationship at times.

“Think I could sleep over tonight?” You suddenly asked, “we don’t have school tomorrow.”

Saiki stared at you for a moment just to relish in that fact that nothing worked on you. No telekinesis, mind control, no nothing. He was going to have to win your favor just like everyone else. To him, it wasn’t normal, but looking at you, he didn’t seem to mind the extra work.

“Sure,” Saiki said. He still had trouble talking aloud, hell, sometimes he will actually use telekinesis and wait for your response only to have pure silence. “My parents are leaving for a wedding, so the house should be free for a while.”

When the two of you got to Saiki’s house, it was a bit peaceful until his parents had to head out. You liked his mom and dad a lot, they were like your second family, so you wanted to wish them a good time. It was for one Saiki’s dad’s coworkers.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Saiki’s dad asked his son. “You’ve met Kirishima before, and you can bring [Name] as your plus one date.”

You knew Saiki wasn’t going to be interested in a wedding. He always told you normal happy events for others is misery for him since he can hear the jealousy and pity that the crowd is thinking. You felt sorry that he couldn’t turn it off, but you were glad that you were the only person he could catch a break with. However, when you looking over at Saiki, he seemed to entertain the thought.

It was a new side to Saiki, one that made you confused. It was always either you or no one. You could tell the way he wanted to get away from many of the people in his class that seemed to have declared themselves his friends from a small interaction. Sure, you felt their interest, but it was just a bit sad to you that Saiki could never actually enjoy friends unless they were pure. Otherwise, he could hear all the backstabbing thoughts or otherwise stupid comments that go around in their brain that was thought to be private to them.

“I’m going to have to pass,” you commented. “I don’t have a suit, besides, you two should enjoy the night. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you both go out alone.”

Saiki’s mom smiled widely at you. Her eyes clouding over with a wet film before wrapping her arms around you for a tight hug. “Ah, thank you, [Name]! What would we do without you?”

You chuckled softy at the comment before saying, “Who knows, I rather not think about that.”

When she finally let you go, you and Saiki waved the both of them off as they left. Honestly, you weren’t sure if they’d even make it back at a reasonable time. It was a wedding, after all. Oh well, as long as they make it back drunk and safe rather than drunk and not safe, you didn’t mind. You were sleeping over anyway, so right now, you just wanted to hang out with your childhood best friend.

“What do you wanna do?” You asked with a calming tone.

Saiki turned his head to you. “TV?”

“Sure,” you smiled. However, as soon as you turned to the living room, you noticed the absolute mess his parents left behind. So, out of the goodness of your heart, you said, “How about you find something and all clean up this in the meantime. Sound good?”

Saiki nodded once more. He truly thought your actions were kind, but he rather have you watching TV with him than picking up his dad’s dirty clothes. He knew his father tended to be sloppy, but this was just a mess.

As you were about to pick up a pair of jeans, all the clothes that were strewn about the floor suddenly started to float in the air and shoot into the open washing machine. The trash floated itself into the garage while everything else was moved around to make it look clean until otherwise.

You pressed your lips together as your brows furrowed in annoyance. Once you turned to Saiki and saw his innocence face, you knew you couldn’t be angry but you had to ask, “Do you really want me to watch TV with you that bad?”

“Yes,” Saiki stated.

You sighed, your lips parting as you left the oxygen leave your lungs. “Fine, but let’s both clean up a bit before than. It’ll be a nice surprise and a way to thank your parents for letting me stay the night.”

Saiki nodded. “Okay.”

It took a bit of convincing on your end to let him let you help out. You may not have powers, but you didn’t want to take advantage of his. You knew it was effortless and he made it seem like it didn’t affect him whatsoever, but you knew every time he does something it takes a toll. His powers aren’t perfect.

You both ended up cleaning the living room, Saiki’s room, and now you were in the kitchen sorting the trash. Saiki was using his powers to sort while you whipped down the countertops.

“Good grief,” Saiki said aloud, his voice drawing your eyes to him. He was crouched down with two bags in front of him and the garage floating upside down, it’s contents was either going in the first or second bag.

“What?” You asked curiosity. It wasn’t all the time that he speaks from his mouth without you talking first.

“How could anyone have let it get this dirty in here?” He asked aloud. “I mean, really it’s a wonder we don’t have bugs.”

You were going to respond. That was until he suddenly shut his mouth, a chest deep grunt leaving him as you notice him stare at something on the furniture next to him.

It was a cockroach.

Mind you, the moment you realized what it was you weren’t the least bit surprised when he suddenly teleported. Saiki hates bugs. He could read the minds of humans, as well as animals, but he couldn’t with bugs. He thought they were small minded icky things. Hell, he couldn’t even let his powers touch the thing.

You counted down the seconds before he came back. It was around ten, maybe fifteen. He also teleported right behind you.

“Welcome back,” you greeted and watched as his eyes dart towards the floor.

“Sorry, I may have overreacted.” He muttered. “I just hate them.”

“I know,” you hummed out before looking around and grabbing a cup and piece of paper. Saiki watched you as you let the roach crawl on the piece of paper before placing the cup over it so it didn’t run away. You were quick to put it outside and close the window after so Saiki didn’t worry about it coming back in.

“All gone,” you cheered with a smile. “Now, let’s watch TV, ya?”

2. Saiki’s Pushy Friends

PK Academy was a school were many different personalities and people collided. It was always fun to meet new people in this school, yet on the other side of the coin, sometimes they were more than a little odd. Not like you can speak, your best friend was a psychic. Though, he wasn’t delusional like this one guy in your class that declared himself Saiki’s friend. His name was Kaido. He thinks he has powers and has an evil organization following him around.

Then, you have Nendou. Basically, he’s stupid. Not that you minded, but sometimes being stupid isn’t the best thing in the world, especially now.

It was the sports festival at PK and Saiki and you had to participate in it. You both were on the same team since all the teams were decided by class. This also gave you a good idea of the friends Saiki has made. It was safe to say that Kaido was growing on you. You felt a little bad for the guy, what can you say.

Let’s not forget about Hairo as well. You knew him a bit more from hearsay than the others, plus he was class rep. Though, you had to say, he was a little too overly enthusiastic.

It was kind of a surprise to see Teruhashi, the most popular girl in school, try and interact with Saiki. Though, it was a bit amusing since to him, she’s nothing more than walking muscle. However, you did think he would swoon over her like all the other guys in your school if she was like you. However, you knew Saiki had no interest in romance so you don’t care either way.

Finally, Nendou. You were originally going to say that you didn’t mind the guy that much and thought maybe he would be a good thing for Saiki. However, after just watching him take out one of the antennas from Saiki’s head, you started to wonder how much of a danger his stupidity is to Saiki.

You watched that pink haired friend of yours collapse to the ground with a hard thud as soon as Nendou pull the thing out of his head. You were quick to rush over to him and sit by his side. When you flipped him over, since he fell face forward, worry grew about your body and infected your bloodstream.

You heard protests about turning him over, but at this point all the worried voices drowned before they were even audible to you. His lips were parted as drool leaked from his mouth and went down his chin, his eyes dead and without life as darkness surrounded them. It didn’t take you long to recover and swipe the antenna Nendou was holding and pop it back in its rightful place in his pink locks.

You didn’t know how long it would take for him to wake up, or if he’d wake up at all. All you knew was to sit and wait for him to wake up. To your surprise, he woke up rather quickly. Maybe a mere minute or so after you fixed him up. When his eyes opened, you felt yourself suddenly get surrounded as Saiki’s friends crowed over him to ask how he was.

You noticed him using telepathy to talk to everyone when Hairo said, “You passed out after Nendou took that think out of your head, lucky for you, [Name] put it back right away!”

“Yeah, he saved your life!” Kaido spit out next, their hands placing on my shoulder out of respect and gratitude.

Saiki’s eye then direct to you, his voice never leaving his lips for a moment before you noticed him flinch.

‘Ah,’ you thought. ‘He tried to use telepathy with me again.’

When he noticed, Saiki just nodded in your direction. You knew he was thanking you, he didn’t need to word it out to you. The look in his eyes was enough.

Lunch came immediately after Saiki ended up waking up, and it was understatement to say he didn’t want to be bother with anyone else besides you. He was quick to drag you to the roof of the school to eat.

The both of you sat against the railing, lunch in your laps. You wanted I just forget about the scare that Saiki gave you, but the after effects he was having wasn’t making that easy. He was having trouble, and it was easy to see when his hands were shaking so much that he couldn’t even pick up his food without it falling back in the box.

You side eyed him, his expression one of concentration as he tried to pick up his food again. Though, he dropped it again.

He sighed quickly after that, only looking down at his food as you saw his mind wonder off.

Once you finished chewing whatever food you had in your mouth, you placed your food to the side and moved so that you weren’t side to side, but rather across from Saiki’s body now. He didn’t register your movements until he saw a hand come into his view and pick up an item of food with his chopsticks.

When he turned to you, you had the chopsticks in your dominant hand and your other under the food so it didn’t drop to the filthy ground.

“C’mon, lemme help,” you said. It was easy for Saiki to pick up the worry in your tone, however he knew not to address it or else you’ll just either deny it or baby him. “Open up.”

He obeyed your command after a moment, opening his mouth wide enough for you to place his food in his mouth. The hand that was meant to catch the food if it fell made sure Saiki closed his mouth, his fingers placed a bit of pressure under his chin to shut his jaws before slowly trailing away. The food wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the chill that ran down his spine at your lingering touch that crawled on his skin.

“I could hurt you.” He suddenly spit out. It was pained. “Having my antenna taken out messed up my powers.”

You leaned your head to the side, your eyes never falling from his. “Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“You should go.” He stated.

“Why?”

“I just told you.”

You smiled. “Saiki, you could never hurt me.”

He looked at you like you had something stuck in your teeth. “You don’t know that, I may not be able to read your mind, but I don’t know how my other powers react to you.”

You remained quiet for a moment before shuffling your body side by side again, your head falling to rest of Saiki’s shoulder. You felt him flinch at the contact, his muscles even began to tighten just out of fear.

“Yanno,” you started out saying, your hand coming up to play the antenna that you could reach. “It’s odd to me how these things are the only thing keeping you stable.”

“Is it?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Small things like these verses your powers. The thing that gets me is that these things actually win in that fight. Though, I suppose it does complete the look you have.”

“And what look is that?” Saiki asked as he gazed down at you to see your eyes already on him. He could feel his fingers twitch as he watched you say shamelessly, “The cute, mysterious loner type.”

Saiki’s lips parted as he gazed at you. He quickly recomposed himself when he noticed you waiting patiently for him to respond. He sighed before asking, “Mysterious loner? Where’d you get that?”

You laughed before sarcastically questioning, “yep, I wonder where.”

3. Your friends are my friends

You don’t know how you got wrapped into this, but perhaps it’ll allow you to know Saiki’s friends better.

Currently, you were walking with Kaido, Nendou, and Saiki to a good ramen shop Nendou suggested. You were dragged along when Nendou remembered you from the Sports Festival and as Saiki’s friend. They never really got the chance to speak to you since you’re usually out the door as soon as the bell rings, but today they finally caught you.

At some point Teruhashi joined the group, though you feel like she kinda took over since now the boys, except for Saiki and you, were fawning over her. Saiki and you took it upon yourselves to give them all room to talk to her, so you both sorts trailed behind.

It was silent for a while, the only noise was Nendou or Kaido talking to Teruhashi. However, you caught the, “what does that even mean,” that Saiki mumbled under his breath.

“Hm?” You hummed. “What does what mean?”

It was obvious to you he didn’t realize he said that aloud. But he just seemed to be glad that only you heard that.

“Teruhashi wants me to go ‘oh wow’ or something to her.” Saiki revealed. “I don’t even know what that means.”

You kept your gaze on Saiki for a moment. “So, she likes you?”

“I guess,” he muttered. “I think it’s more that I’m the only guy that isn’t kissing her feet.”

You watched Teruhashi interact with Nendou and Kaido. You know that, normally, she wouldn’t take time to hang out with these guys. However, because of her crush on Saiki, she bares with them. In all honesty, she seems a bit perfect. Being able to deal with them just for the person she adores. It’s easy for anyone to do, and not a lot of people would even bother.

“She seems like a good fit for you.” You suddenly uttered out.

When Saiki heard that, he felt his hands twitch. He didn’t like that, not one bit. What irked him the most was that it seemed natural, like you actually meant it. And, of course, he had no way of knowing if those words were genuine or actually forced.

“No way,” Saiki stated coldly. “Never in a million years.”

“Damn, that’s cold, Saiki.” He heard you say, a teasing tone wedged in your voice.

“Why do you keep calling me Saiki, anyway? We aren’t acquaintances.”

“Hm?” You questioned. “I thought you don’t like me calling you by your first name in public?”

Saiki sighed. “Well now I’m telling you I don’t care.”

Saiki knew this way of showing that you were closer to him than anyone would ever be may have been childish on his part, but when he heard his first name come from your lips in front of his other ‘friends’, he felt more than satisfied.

4. Friendship Can Bring Romance

Being able to rest during class was one of your guilty pleasures. Even if you got called out by your teacher, you didn’t mind. It was better when it was raining outside, the patter of rain when it hit the window made you want to nap.

“Hey,” a voice called out to you. You didn’t listen though, it wasn’t important.

“Hey, [Name],” it called out again. Okay, maybe you should wake up. Then again, sleep. You could always sleep later though.

You fluttered your eyes open as you felt your body being pushed around. When your sight became focused, the blurry figure in front of you showed a blue hair kid. You knew him, but from where?

“Saiki asked me to wake you up, sorry,” he confessed.

Oh, right. That’s Kaido, Saiki’s friend.

“Hm? Where is Kusuo?” You asked in a groggy voice, your hand coming up to wipe your eyes.

“Oh, he went home.” Kaido informed you. “Something just came up, I guess.”

“Alright,” you hummed before the end of your lips pulled upward. “Thank you, Kaido.”

It wasn’t easy for Kaido to wake up the quiet kid. Kaido only met the guy once or twice, and when he was hanging with him, you only stayed close to Saiki. It was kinda odd, but Kaido understood your attachment to the pink haired man. Saiki was Kaido’s first friend, after all, so he knew how awesome the guy was.

Though, he’s never got the chance to speak to you. He knows Saiki never really goes anywhere with you, and somehow you always end up by his side. He just always seemed to miss you when it came to getting the chance to introduce himself so Kaido was pretty glad when you came along the trip to that ramen place, even if it was a dumb and he got distracted by Teruhashi.

Kaido knew you were the closest person to Saiki. He’s pretty sure that not even Nendou is as close to Saiki as you are. And those two are best friends. Kaido didn’t know the extend of how long you two have been friends, but he does know from watching that Saiki has respect for you. So, it was critical that he makes a great impression with you so that he can become closer to Saiki and maybe you as well.

“S-Sure, no problem!” He stuttered, his bandaged hand retracting from your shoulder and holding them up in the air in a surrendered notion.

“Do you live around here at all? I’ll walk you home as a thank you.” You said as you stood from your seat and began to search for your bag.

“What? You don’t have to do that, really, it isn’t necessary!” Kaido spit out quickly, his words jumping all over the place.

“It’s really no trouble at all,” you stated as you put your bag over your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get going before the rain gets worse.”

The rain eventually stopped when both teens got closer to your house. Kaido’s was further ahead, so he thought it would be better if he just walked you home instead so you didn’t have to walk more than you have to already.

“So, you’ve been friends with Saiki since he was little, huh?” Kaido asked as you explained why Saiki trusts you so much. “That’s pretty awesome! What was he like back then?”

“Pretty much the same.” You answered. “Though he did get more handsome throughout the years, and he used to be kinda sweet. Now, not so much.”

“I see, so you guys have been through it all together.” Kaido replied.

“Basically, though, he did start to worry me a bit since I was his only friend for a really long time,” you confessed. You paused as you looked up at Kaido and gave him a smile, “But I’m glad he finally made a friend like you.”

Kaido could feel his heart beat a million miles an hour just at the words you strung together. He never heard kinder words than those, and he was even more thrilled that he succeeded in making a good impression on Saiki’s childhood friend!

“It’s, uh, n-no problem, really!” Kaido muttered out as his whole face began to fluster, his hands going everywhere.

“Oh,” you hummed out.

“Hm?” Kaido questioned. His nerves going down. “What is it?”

“Did you know you were dragging your scarf the whole time?” You asked curiosity as your hands started to real in the extra fabric.

“What?” He asked out of pure shock. Though, realizing that he doesn’t make a fool out of himself he said, “O-Of course I did! It’s a fashion choice.”

“Not the best one,” you stated as you stepped closer to the blue haired male.

Kaido’s eyes widened as he stated directly into your colored orbs, watching them dance solely for him. It was like getting attention from a loved one, but this attention make him nervous to the point where he thought his face was going to explode with red. Kaido’s lips slowly started to disappear as the scarf started to build up around his shoulders and neck.

“There you go,” you said, “much better. Now your scarf doesn’t get more dirty and you look even better.”

‘Even better? What’s that supposed to mean? Does it.. does it mean he thought I looked good before?!’ Kaido thought.

Kaido let out an awkward laugh as he played with the end of the scarf. “O-Oh, haha, thank you.”

“Sure,” you hummed. “Now let’s get going.”

5. Blessing Turned On Jealousy

What’s that saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Yeah, that’s it. See, that could apply to this yet at the same time it would go a little different.

More like, the enemy of my best friend is my friend. At least for your situation. You see, walking home with Saiki has now turned into walking home with Saiki, Nendou, and Kaido. Not that you mind, but sometimes you really do wish it was back to when Saiki and you got to spend time alone together. However, being friends with Saiki and then having his friends automatically become your friends may have some perks.

Like now. Bumping into Kaido’s mom was totally accidental. But, in the end it payed off. Why?

Because coffee jelly.

“I know it’s not easy being friends with my son because he’s so shy, but please be patient.” Kaido’s mom announced as she placed the coffee jelly down in front of Saiki and you.

“Please don’t say that mama—I mean—mother.” Kaido pleased, his voice cracking as it got higher with embarrassment.

Overall, the beginning was a very nice. Hell, it was damn near perfect. Although, you just had to snoop around. Well, it was more like exploring Kaido’s room.

Your fingertips brushed along the spines of the many books Kaido had stacked up in his bookcase. It was seriously amazing how many books he had, he even had some original copies of some famous old books.

“This is pretty awesome,” you muttered to yourself before your eyes spotted something that didn’t quite match with the others. In all honesty, you were simply curious. However, curiosity did kill the cat. In your case, more like awakened the Saiki K.

“Hey, Kaido, what is the Jet Black Wings?” You asked aloud as the group sat down eating whatever snacks were about. You would always hear either chewing or at least some conversation, but after that question left your mouth it was dead silent. You felt like you killed something, but when you looked over you noticed Kaido’s face beat red. Seriously, his entire face was as red as a blood moon.

“P-Put that back!” He stuttered out, the blue haired boy suddenly running up to you to snatch the book from your hand.

As he reached for it, you held it higher. Even if he was about the same height or maybe a inch or so taller, you just needed to make him miss his hand from grabbing it.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m just curious.” You calmly said. “Is it bad or something?”

“N-No! It’s nothing, uh, bad! Just give me it back!” Kaido begged this time around, his hands trying desperately to grab it from you. Okay, maybe you were being a little mean at this point, but it was kinda fun to tease him.

You began to back up as Kaido trying to nab the book in your hand. “Just explain it!”

“No! Never!” He shouted.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, though, that was your fatal mistake. Having yourself distracted by your own humor, your mind didn’t take into account the pile of prep books scattered about until it was too late. You quickly lost your voice, as well as your balance before slamming your head hard against the wood floors.

“Woah! You guys okay?” Nendou asked out of genuine concern.

As much as you would have liked to answer him, you were too concerned with the pain pounding into your skull like a jackhammer. Seriously, this is gonna give you one massive headache.

You scrunched your nose as your finally gave effort to open your eyes, though, they permanently remained open when you noticed a face staring down at you, a body on top of yours. You guessed that during the fall Kaido tried to save you, but only got dragged along instead.

“H-Hey, um, are you okay?” He asked under his shaky breath.

You only nodded before trying to avoid his gaze in any possible way. The position you were in didn’t help whatsoever in that department. Instead, you hoped that Kaido would take the hint and get off. That plan wasn’t looking too good cause all that was running through his mind was how you looked under him. Let’s say, the thoughts he had left a distaste in Saiki’s mouth.

Originally, he was just gonna let you handle it, but after hearing Kaido’s perverted thoughts about you, that plan blew up.

Saiki stood up, leaving his coffee jelly half eaten before grabbing Kaido by the back of his shirt and yanking him off of you. Saiki gave some strength into that but not enough to launch him into the bookshelf like he wanted too. He knelt down to come to your level and help you up, your massive headache being noticeable when you held onto the back of your head.

“Damnit, that really hurt,” you muttered to yourself but Saiki heard it clear as day.

It wasn’t long after that he took you home as well as the left over coffee jelly. Saiki advised you to stay home a day just to let the pain die down a bit before going back to school, so, the pink haired boy was all alone today. And all alone to everyone else meant to bother him more than usual.

Teruhashi, Nendou, Hairo. All of them. Though, it was a bit weird that Kaido wasn’t bothering with him today. Not that he was complaining, but he couldn’t pinpoint the answer until he heard Kaido’s thoughts, ‘I need to ask Saiki for permission. They’re best friends, it would be rude if I didn’t ask permission to ask out [Name].’

Never mind. He didn’t need to know that.

It was around lunch time that Kaido walked up to Saiki for the first one, the blush that littered his cheeks made Saiki want to gag for a moment.

“So, uh, Saiki, I have to ask you something.” Kaido uttered out lowly. Clearly, this was nerve wracking for him.

“What is it?” Saiki asked telepathically.

“Well, it’s about [Name], yanno, our [Name]?”

‘What other person has that name?’ Saiki thought. ‘And don’t say our, it’s creepy.’

“You see, I, well, I think I like him and I’d like your blessing to ask him out!” Kaido shouted, his body bowing at an almost 90 degree angle.

Normally, Saiki would just say to do whatever since he could read [Name]’s thoughts and see that he doesn’t like Kaido in that way. However, the one person in the world that Saiki actually wants is immune to his powers. He knew he needed to shut this down fast.

‘No way.’ Saiki responded.

“Thank you so much, Saiki, you won’t—wait—why not?” Kaido asked aloud, his voice getting higher the more he freaked out. He thought this would be easy, he means, it was Saiki. The most chill guy ever actually gave him a hard ‘no’ to asking out his best friend. Kaido shouldn’t be surprised, even though he is.

‘Because I said so,’ Saiki strictly put. He knew it was wrong to say this, who was he to say no to something that isn’t his business. Though, the feeling of relief that he still had a chance was more satisfying in the end.

By the time Saiki got to your house it was basically as soon as school ended. He used teleportation to get here as fast as he could, as well as just appear in your room. He wasn’t expecting you to still be asleep, though, he supposed this wasn’t too bad.

The pink haired male carefully walking up to the bedside of his best friend. It was odd to see your hair going in one direction instead of all over the place like normal, and don’t even get him started on the soft snores that came from your nose. Snoring isn’t usually the most attractive thing in the world, but this light snores from you made him think of the habit as cute.

Now, he would normally wake you up. But, just allowing himself to look at you for a moment longer without any consequences never hurt anybody. Saiki sat himself down on your floor, his eyes keeping to your closed ones as they slowly began to travel down to your lips. He doesn’t know what came over him, but it seriously began to freak him out when he started think about Kaido touching his lips with yours. After the freak out, jealousy was spiraling around in the psychic. He never knew that Kaido, of all people, would actually develop romantic feelings for you. If he did, he would have never allowed the both of you to interact the way you did at his house the other day.

Saiki let out a sigh before standing up once more, his hand came up to your shoulder slowly and began to shake it. It wasn’t long after that your eyes fluttered open and gave him that soft smile that caused his heart to skip a beat.

6. School Trip

The school trip was always the most looked forward to activity in high school. This year it was a three day trip to Okinawa. While you were excited to spend some time at a gorgeous place like Okinawa, Saiki was definitely less excited.

As kids talked with their friends in a group or just at their desks, you were currently sitting on top of Saiki’s desk with the pink haired boy sitting in the chair. This wasn’t something you always do, especially since at times Saiki has pushed you off out of retaliation, but after a moment or two of still being there, you knew he didn’t mind today.

“You excited?” You asked him.

“No. I don’t get the appeal.” He spit out, his eyes closing as he moved his head down. “I could get to Okinawa in three minutes.”

“Kusuo, not everyone is like you.” You explained. “So don’t go getting moody on this trip, I’m not letting you ruin it for me.”

“I won’t, I’m just saying a fact.” He replied.

You were about to continue with things you’re excited to do during the trip before Hairo came around to the both of you with a clip board in hand. He was responsible for dividing rooms.

“Saiki, [Name], did you guys decide on your group for the class trip?” He asked politely. “You should have three boys and three girls in your group.”

Saiki didn’t say anything, instead he just rested his head against your forearm. Perhaps he wanted Hairo to think he fell asleep and leave it to you, or maybe he was actually saying that he didn’t care as long as he was with you. Either way, you smiled at the contact and said to Hairo, “Kusuo and I will be rooming, it doesn’t matter who else is in our group.”

“Okay, great!” Hairo exclaimed as he wrote it down. “Kaido and Nendou are still available so I’ll just place Kaido with your group, and then randomly place you guys with a girls group.”

“Thanks, Hairo,” you hummed out as he walked away to probably inform Kaido about the rooming.

You never minded contact with Saiki, in fact, you sort of enjoyed it. However, seeing him still like this, even with Hario now gone, you worried.

“Hey, Kusuo,” you called out.

No answer.

“Kusuo?” You asked this time. And when he didn’t answer again you unconsciously moved your hand up to his head and moved it back to where you could look him in the eyes. Saiki’s face was still without expression, though, those eyes worried you. He seemed, almost, upset.

“Kusuo?” You asked. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, signaling that nothing was wrong. You knew he was lying.

You tilted your head, some of your hair moving with gravity to expose part of your forehead. “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not.” He said, his voice was steady and yet, that look in his eyes still bothered you.

You knew he wasn’t going to budge but still, just because you’re going to let it go now doesn’t mean that you weren’t about to keep an eye on him.

Throughout the beginning and the first day of the trip, you kept an eye on Saiki. He seemed way more tired than usual, but that didn’t startle you. Instead, it was how he was by your side more often now when Kaido was around. You weren’t an idiot, it was pretty obvious. You didn’t mind Saiki’s attention, but you didn’t want him to think just because you were friends with Kaido that he’d be put second.

“Kusuo, can we talk?” You asked him as the two of you had the room to yourselves. The others were out and about, but the two of you decided on an early night.

“About what?” He asked as he set up his sleeping area.

“Today.” You started out. “You’ve been acting weird around Kaido. Did something happen?”

You watched Saiki carefully, so carefully that you noticed his fingers lightly curl around the blanket. You didn’t want to push him, so instead of pushing him to speak, you allowed yourself to be silent and let him take his time. You don’t remember how many minutes pasted, but you swear it felt like decades.

“Nothing happened.” He informed you. “His thoughts just aren’t for my taste at the moment.”

“His thoughts?” You questioned as you slowly approached Saiki on his blanket until you were right in front of him. “Okay, then, what’s got you all bothered? Let me guess, he’s thinking dirty things, right?”

“Sort of.” He replied.

“I bet it’s about Teruhashi,” you theorized. “Is that why you don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not about Teruhashi.”

“Really? Then who?”

Saiki went quiet once more.

You sighed. Your head moving down to get a glimpse at his face. It wasn’t until you moved your hand over by his, your finger tips brushing with his accidentally to get more stability as you leaned in did you hear him finally confess.

“It was about you.”

To say that you needed a minute to take that in was an understatement. Kaido was a good guy and all, but it was kinda startling to realize he liked guys, as well as girls, since you didn’t suspect that even for a minute with him.

“Seriously?” You asked once more.

Saiki nodded. “He asked me if he could ask you out.”

“And what did you say?”

“No.”

You couldn’t help a smile crawl upon your face with that one. You knew it was a bit hard to read Saiki, especially when it came to you, but you were just beyond happy to hear that.

“Good,” you suddenly shot out. Saiki’s head moving back up in an instant to see your happy features. “I don’t like Kaido like that anyway, saves me from breaking his heart.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.” You hummed out. You knew this may backfire on you in more ways than one, but right now, you didn’t care. The happiness you felt told you to take a chance and throw out the bait. “I know you can’t read my mind, but I actually do have someone I like.”

Saiki aimlessly stared at you for a moment and took in the words you confessed to him. It was an odd feeling, the rapid beating of his heart, but perhaps this was finally the start of things going his way for once.

On the second day of the trip, everyone went to Emerald Beach. It was one of the many places were people could stare at others and no one would think anything of it. A perverts dream. Though, for Saiki, he just wanted to hang out with you.

“Where’s [Name]?” Kaido asked Nendou as Saiki stood behind the two.

“He said he had to go buy a swimsuit. The one he brought apparently went missing.” Nendou told the blue haired boy.

Now, that want a mistake. Sure, it may have been a dirty trick but Saiki rather die than see you in the swimsuit you brought. After all, you bought a shirt with it. He knew you didn’t take off your shirt often, even at the beach, but he was determined to see you with just a pair of shorts.

Much like how all the guys that crowded around the girls changing house waited patiently to see Teruhashi in a two piece swim suit.

It was a while after Teruhashi came out, and when everyone was in the water that you made your appearance. You had your hands wedged into your swim shirt pockets as you allowed your feet to take in the hot sand that felt magical between your toes. You gazed around for a moment before noticing pink hair sitting under an umbrella.

A devilish smirk crawled on your features as you began to slowly approach the male. This may give Saiki a heart attack, but it was worth it. As you stood over him from behind, you attacked. Your body shot down as your arms wrapped aruund his neck and pushed your chest into his bare back.

“Hey, what’s a cute guy like you doing all alone at a place like this?” You teased, allowing your voice to go on for some time so that he realized it was just you.

Saiki immediately flinched at the contact before noticing it was just you. However, when he noticed the touch of your skin against his, he could feel his entire body heat up. The sensation was new, he’s felt his face go hot before, but his entire body was a new one.

“What took you so long?” Saiki tried to play off.

You just sighed and got a tighter grip on the male, your chest pushing more into his back. “Someone stole my swimsuit. Sadly, I didn’t have enough money to replace the whole thing, so I had to go by some swim shorts.”

“Hm, as least you’re here.” Saiki stated, making sure not to comment on the ‘stolen swimsuit’.

“Yeah,” you uttered as you released Saiki from your grasp and sat down next to him. You gazed out at the beautiful ocean that was filled with laughing people with this loving look in your eyes, all the while not realizing Saiki’s held that same gaze as he stared at you.

When you did turn to him, he completely lost himself in his mind as his eyes wondered about your figure. You weren’t the most fit guy in the world, but you did have these subtle yet enchanting muscle lines along your upper body that made Saiki lose himself.

“I saw that.” You suddenly said. Saiki’s eyes now darting back to yours. “You just checked me out.”

Saiki saw no way out of this one. So, he just confessed it. “So what if I was?”

In all honesty, he just expected you to laugh and tell him that it’s only fair if he does the same. However, the twist was unexpected and, well, definitely appreciated. He watched as you gazed down, this bashful look in your eyes as you did everything to avoid his gaze. Your body language wasn’t helping either. Your fingers were tapping against the towel and the heel of your foot was moving back and forth.

Maybe this trip wasn’t totally for nothing.

7. All That Was A Secret

Spring break. It was one of those weeks that Saiki went to go visit his grandparents all the way in the middle fo nowhere. So, for the most of this break, you were home alone.

It was kind of boring. This break was definitely not one that you looked forward to, more now then before, especially after the beach during the class trip. Those words always ended up repeating in your mind, way too much then you thought they would. Then again, you shouldn’t be surprised. All those days that you’d try to subtly touch him, tease him, it was just a way to relieve yourself of the pent up emotions you’ve had for him for a few years now.

Currently, you were in your room upon your bed, hugging one of your pillows close to your chest. You never tried to dwell on if Saiki felt the same or not, but recently, it’s been clawing at you more and more. It wasn’t like you didn’t think you had a chance, but more if Saiki was more comfortable just staying friends. You would understand, even if it would hurt, you’d do it for him. You’d do anything for that guy.

You sighed before slowly lifting your body off the bed. Today wasn’t a good day for being sad, it was summer break, after all. You knew you had to get your mind off Saiki, and him being away made it a bit easier. So, you grabbed some clothes from your closet and laid them on the bed. You weren’t sure what you were going to do, but you were determined to fine something to take your mind off him.

You let your pants drop to the ground before taking the ones on your bed and letting your legs slip through each of the pant legs. Next, you stripped your shirt off and took in a deep breath. You paused for a moment before dropping the dirty shirt on the ground and grabbing the new one. In all honestly, you never really pay attention to your surroundings when changing. But, does anyone? It wasn’t until your head went through the hole on the top of the shirt did you realize that the bed in front of you was now missing and the wall you were staring at was not the wall of your bed room. When you turned your head, you locked eyes with Saiki in an unfamiliar room.

“Huh?” You uttered under your breath before your eyes widened, your face felling hotter than usual before frantically pulling your shirt all the way down. Once down, you opened your mouth and said, “You can’t do that without me knowing! What if I was in the middle of a shower or something and not just changing?”

“I would have given you some of my clothes.” He replied nonchalantly.

You bit the inside of your cheek before crossing your arms over your chest. “Why did you teleport me anyway?”

“I can’t stand it here.” Saiki confessed. Of course, you knew he didn’t exactly enjoying visiting his grandparents but he has never done this before. “Just hang out with me. I’ll send you back after.”

You sighed. You can’t exactly say no after that, so, with that Saiki and you began to watch a movie. It wasn’t one you two watched before so it was easy to get lost in it. Though, it was also easy to focus on Saiki when he suddenly placed his hand on top of yours as you guys watched. You weren’t too sure if he thought you wouldn’t notice, but there was no way you were going to pull away. After all, it’s not like he placed his fingers between yours, if he did that, you don’t know if you could handle it.

After a half an hour into the movie you finally got the plot of it, and you weren’t amused at all. It was a best friends to lovers troupe. More specifically, childhood friends that drifted apart only to be brought back together by work and now slowly are developing feelings for one another. Let’s just say now, you were a little more than nervous.

Thank god Saiki couldn’t read your mind, because now, you feel like you’d give him a headache. You couldn’t help but ask yourself if he knows and is only doing this to taunt you, or maybe this was all just a big coincident. Yeah, one massive coincident. In reality though, Saiki was just teasing you. He had no idea of your feelings but he wanted to watch the movie with you to implant the idea in his mind of the possibility.

Well, his plan was working. Maybe a little too much. Though, as you were about to spit something out, your eyes suddenly shot down to the floor in embarrassment. Yep, a make out scene. Of course, Saiki had no idea about that, but it was better than just the sappy stuff cause now it was really ingrained in your head.

Once it was over and you had somewhat of your cool back you couldn’t help it. You needed to ask. If it blew up in flames, then so be it.

“Hey, Saiki,” you uttered out lowly. Saiki caught it immediately and turned his gaze on you. “I have a.. question.”

“What?” He asked.

“Well,” your voice trailed off as you moved your eyes down to where both of your hands connected. “We’ve been best friends for a long time now but, have you ever, um, thought about doing...that?

Saiki remained quiet for a moment, his thoughts going everywhere before thinking to himself, ‘All the time, actually.’

As much as he wish he could have said that telepathically, he could never try to say that vocally. So, he just opted for a nod and watched your body flinch. The hand he touched growing warm.

“You’re hot.” Saiki suddenly spit out. This time, you brought your hand back to your body so he couldn’t tell anymore.

“S-So what?” You stuttered out.

To say that Saiki didn’t like this side of you was an understatement. He’s never never seen you so flustered before, and it was really adorable to look at.

“It’s cute.” Saiki commented, his body leaning in just to see your face closer.

You turned your head to the side, eyes darting to the tv just to look away for a moment to compose yourself. You knew that there wasn’t gonna be another perfect moment like this so, you slowly reached over to place your hand on the back of Saiki’s neck. It was warm. When he noticed what you wanted as you started to lean back and gently pull him with you, he complied quickly until he gazed at you from above. Suddenly, he was jealous at the fact that Kaido got to see this view before him.

He stared at you for a moment before watching you bite down on your bottom lip, his mind doing backflips at the want to read your mind, but also at how good you looked under him.

“Kiss me.” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

“If I do,” Saiki uttered lowly. “I might not be able to stop.”

“That’s okay.”

#male reader #saiki k #kusou saiki #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki k x reader #saiki k x male reader #saiki x reader #saiki x male reader #the disastrous life of saiki k.#the disastrous life of Saiki k x reader #x reader #saiki k headcanons

1K notes · View notes

tobesolonely · 4 years

Text

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen.

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here.

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.”

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard.

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day.

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod.

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up.

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were.

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions.

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.”

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee.

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids.

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up.

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.”

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard.

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time.

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him.

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures.

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin.

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate.

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous.

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face.

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.”

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.”

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne.

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out.

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?”

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?”

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library.

“You don’t know your address yet?”

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.”

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier.

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.”

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’”

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.”

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened.

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––”

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA.

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement.

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious.

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before.

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?”

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything.

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment.

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you.

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it.

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.”

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing.

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock.

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #teacher!h

2K notes · View notes

twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Note

For the Colton Imagine can it be something like proposal or with kids (he just looks adorable with children)

Kids - Colton Parayko

A/N: Of course, baby! I chose with kids because I just couldn't say no to that. Here it is.

Words: 2.7k+

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Kids (?). Just Colton melting over kids and being their favorite.

To say that your boyfriend looked cute when with kids, is an understatement. He’s just the purest and most adorable person when he’s close to a kid. His whole expression can change when his eyes land on the small young humans, and so does his smile and his tone of voice.

Colton is just a sight to see. And a great helper too.

The reason behind that is that you’re a kindergarten teacher. You, as someone that has always loved the idea of being around kids, are still young and learning in your job on how to be a great teacher and even role model to such young kids.

Right off when you started your career, before meeting Colton, you wanted kids to have the best of experiences in your classroom. You wanted to be the coolest teacher, all because you also had that when you were younger. And that came with a lot of fun activities throughout the week and a lot of decorating to do in your classroom.

Is it tiring? Yes. But is it worth it when the kids run in every morning all excited to see you? Oh, absolutely.

Close to any festive date, you remodel your classroom with the help of your coworkers - and Colton, when he’s free - and always do a list of all the activities you want to do during the week.

Imagination is key in this job.

You met Colton a year into your job. It was a random date you had set yourself in by a dating app - something your friends had forced you to try and see what would happen.

On that date, the first minutes were a bit awkward, you felt nervous and Colton felt all anxious. You were scared that it would all just be a recipe for disaster.

For an example, the thoughts that ran through your mind were all about: what if one of you just said something completely random or talked too much?

Ugh, it was stressful, to say the least.

But that was until you said what you do for a living. Oh, the heart eyes he gave you.

“So, you like kids?” He had asked you.

“Of course! Ever since I was teenager and babysat my neighbor’s kid.”

You won your way to his heart right away. He made you all sorts of questions about your job and just smiled all the time you would mention your favorite moments with the kids.

And when you asked about him, and he told all sorts of opportunities he has had with his job to hang out with kids. And you felt like you melted into a puddle.

He would mention how many times he has infiltrated himself onto small kids’ skating-classes at the Enterprise center and how they would always let him help out. Kids are, honestly, who rule the soft spot on his heart.

All the stories the two of you had, were just what saved that date. It was what made you talk for hours and hours about one another and make you notice how much more you have in common, other than liking kids.

Both of your friend groups would just think that their ears would fall off if they heard you talk about one another one more time, during the following weeks.

Three dates in and you’re dating. Living your absolute best life.

And two years later, which is now, you’re still dating Colton. You, now, go and see him in every home game and he picks you up from work every time he’s free. He also helps you with buying stuff for your classroom - when it needs redecoration, or when you need help with getting stuff ready on big days.

“Can you pass me the scissors, babe?” Colton asks you as he stares intensely at the piece of paper.

You pass him the scissors quickly and he whispers at you a little ‘thank you’.

You’re both sitting in one of the small tables of your classroom while cutting up some drawn and painted balloons.

Today marks a week away from your class’s last kindergarten day, so you’re getting everything ready for it to the best last few days with them.

Most of the classroom, if not the school, is decorated. You, honestly, just need to add the little details you weren’t able to finish on Friday’s afternoon, and Colton, which had a day off, decided to come in with you super early to help.

You look over at the clock on the wall and you almost let out a gasp. The first kids, the ones that always appear before time for class, are almost here.

Quickly you stand on your feet and go get the other things ready while Colton continues to cut up balloons or drawing cute faces on them.

You open the bags of candy and start putting two down by the desk of each kid, probably looking like a maniac at how quick you’re moving around.

You dunk the rest in the bowl by your desk, and you hear, very faintly, a little giggle at the end of the hall.

Oh, here they come.

You grab onto your sheets of paper and look over your shoulder at the door of your classroom, seeing it open very slowly. A small head of dark curls appears and a group of gasps escapes the children at the door.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N!” The girl that peeked in first says with her big smile.

“Good morning!” You say back with a smile.

Colton lifts his gaze from his little balloon and he sees the small kids, all staring up at you by the door. He smiles as you let them in the class and all their eyes land on him as he comes into view.

“This is Colton, he’s just helping me out, today.” You explained to them.

Some of the shyer kids hesitated a bit when walking in the colorful room, but the extroverts just sprinted to him with their toothless smiles.

“Hi!” They all screamed at him at different timings. “I’m Jacob!” One of them screams while everyone else also begins their introductions.

Colton smiles at them and soon a wave of questions hits him.

Children, when not scared, are one of the most curious beings in the world, so they will ask anyone about anything. And that comes with a large lack of filter too. But that is not something anyone that has come close to a child doesn’t know.

Colton, to your surprise, was able to answer every single one of them without ignoring any kids. Something you, their teacher, still have some difficulty doing, today.

While most of the kids are distracted with him, you go and drift your attention towards the shyest ones. You walk over to the door and go help the ones who are hesitating to walk in, holding up your hand at them before crouching down to their level to say a little ‘good morning’.

In a matter of very few minutes, you’re able to warm them up with the idea of walking in - which, indeed, has a lot to do with the candies that are resting on their desks.

When the small group of kids clears out your door, you notice a special girl you’ve grown to love ever since you started working here.

Her name is Addison and she is the purest, yet the shyest kid you’ve ever come to meet. She’s timid to the point of preferring to be alone all day, even in the park in recess. She has had to change classes a bunch of times due to that lack of talking and not making friends, yet she landed on yours a year ago.

Throughout this year, you have been trying your best at winning her trust. She’s a very scared little being and you can’t just leave her in the corner, especially when most of the stuff you do in class is for everyone to be involved and have a great time as a group.

There have been good days and bad days, yet her good days are able to make your heart melt. Those are the days where she’s able to do more than half of the stuff you offer her to do and with a smile. The most precious smile in the world.

“Good morning, princess Addison.” You tell her as she stands behind the doorway. “I love your dress, today!”

A small little curve appears over her lips and she starts taking small steps towards you. You smile brightly at her, still crouched to be at eye level, and she quickly is standing in front of you.

“Mommy did my hair today.” She whispers at you.

You let out an enthusiastic gasp and she smiles at you.

“Oh, well, let me see the masterpiece.”

She turns around to do a little twirl and you look to see her coily hair separated in two perfect buns, which are held by two glittery light blue elastics - Addison’s favorite color.

“Wow!” You tell her and she turns back to you.

She is smiling so brightly that you swear you’re already a puddle. She’s just this adorable human being.

If there’s any kid that will make you emotional when leaving on the last day, it will be her. No offense to anyone else, she’s just the princess of the classroom.

Colton, who is still sitting at the table, has found himself done with all the cutting and coloring, but also with two young boys climbing his back to dangle over his shoulders.

You weren’t kidding when you said that the kids are always in a good mood right in the morning.

He laughs at something one of the boys says and he looks over to check on you. You’re talking to a little girl in a blue dress and your smile is just as wide as it can be, as well as your eyes, which just twinkle with love.

When you finally stand back on your feet and extend your hand over to the little girl, Colton notices how her expression changes. Her small eyes study the room anxiously as she walks with you, and when they land on him, even worse.

Stranger danger, Colton, come on! Of course, the kids won’t like you right off the bat.

Before Colton could stand up or say anything to announce how he’s already done with his task at you, a little voice stops him.

“Mister Colton?” A little boy says while waving his arm around, “Are you and Miss Y/N dating?”

(...)

Half an hour later and your classroom is almost full, as hell as it’s almost time for class to begin and Colton’s time to leave. You stand back to look at what you just put on the wall, just to make sure it’s centered.

Yeah, looks good.

The usual giggles, ones you’ve grown quite accustomed to, are louder, yet only now you’re looking back to see what’s happening.

Colton is still sitting with the kids, he has two boys laying over his shoulders, which look like they’re about to do a handstand, and he’s talking to a whole other group that is sitting on the floor in front of him.

You walk over to your desk to check something on your computer before you announce the time to everyone - and end up breaking everyone’s hearts. And as soon as you take a seat on your chair, you notice that Addison has gotten up from her seat.

One of her little drawings is still sitting on her desk, but you can’t stop yourself from looking for her in the big group of children around your boyfriend. And that’s when you see her, walking towards him with a paper in her hands.

Colton continues to talk to the kids, but that’s when he notices a small figure appear beside him. He looks over and the girl from before - Addison, you already told him the name of everyone in the room - is standing right beside him.

He gives her a smile, which she gives back, just a little shyer.

A sudden weight is lifted off his shoulders - quite literally, because one of the boys became tired of hanging on his shoulder, but also because she had just smiled at him.

So, he decides to try his best.

“What do you have there?” He asks Addison, pointing his finger at the paper on her hand, honestly, just trying to make conversation.

Why does he feel nervous?

He notices her lips moving, but he can’t hear what she said. So he leans in, turning his head to the side, so she can repeat right over his ear.

“A drawing.” She tells him, again, in a whisper.

Colton snaps his head back to her and smiles widely in excitement.

“Really?”

She nods.

“Can I see it?”

Her lips move again and Colton leans in again so she can talk on his ear.

“It’s for you.”

“For me?” Colton asks extremely excited and looks over at her.

Addison nods with a little shy smile and a little giggle escapes her mouth as he looks at her with an open mouth in shock. She, slowly, raises her hand with the paper on it and Colton, just as slowly, takes it.

(Kind of looks like this - but make it hockey)

As his eyes land on the paper, he feels his heart burst at how adorable it is. He can tell that it’s a bunch of hockey players, all of them with blue jerseys and with hockey sticks on their hands.

“Oh my god!” He whisper-yells, making the girl look at him a little worried, “It’s amazing!”

Another giggle escapes her mouth and Colton, probably getting too confident, extends his (now) free arms to ask for a hug. She looks at him a little hesitatingly, yet before he could even think twice about what he just requested, she throws herself into his arms.

Colton, like with any other kid from class that requested a hug, wraps his arms around her and pulls her into the hug. Her giggles fill the room and you smile at the sight.

It’s impressive, to say the least. It took you so long to get that little girl’s trust and with one simple morning, Colton, not only got a drawing but a hug?!

Sounds unfair to you. Even though extremely adorable.

“So, you’re a blues fan?” You hear him ask her, making you let out a laugh.

If she isn’t, he sure is going to convert her into being one.

She nods her head and decides to do the same thing as another kid is doing beside Colton - sitting over his leg. Colton, now with one kid on each leg, and still one over his shoulder, looks over at you.

His smile is just the brightest ever. He’s having the time of his life.

He looks back at Addison and shows the drawing she just did to her.

“Am I in this?” He asks her and she nods.

Her little finger points at one of the figures with blue jerseys and the only difference between him and the other guys is that he’s holding hands with someone. He eyes the other person with care, and just by the clothes that they’re wearing and from the hair.

It’s you. Holding his hand while he holds a stick with his opposite hand.

He unconsciously pouts at how cute it all is and fights his urges to stand and run to you, just to show you the amazing drawing.

You must have read his mind, because right as he thought that, you appeared beside him, also taking a seat over the carpet with everyone. It didn’t take long for some of your students to move over and sit close to you.

Colton hands you the drawing, which you carefully grab it, and he points at the pair of people in the middle of it. You smile brightly and Addison gives the two of you her biggest smile of the day.

She was proud of her drawing, but, now, more than ever.

“Ms. Y/N, can Colton stay for the rest of the day?” Someone asks in the crowd of children.

Colton laughs beside you and you smile at the boy who asked it. Before you could even open your mouth to answer him, Colton does it.

“No, but I can come back tomorrow (?)” He says, almost as if it’s a question.

He’s looking at you, and that’s when you understand that he’s asking you for permission. And as soon as the kids also notice that, a wave of screams hits your ears.

“Please!” and “Let him!” are screamed at you and you smile.

“Yeah, of course.” You tell him and he smiles.

The kids celebrate, some by jumping around, others throwing their fists in the air while screaming victoriously, and others - like Addison - just smile at the both of you.

Ugh, things can’t get better than this.

Hope you liked this! Sorry it took me a little long to post it, but I was a little stuck on one part. Really hope it was worth the wait.

#colton parayko #colton parayko imagine #colton parayko x reader #colton parayko imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

209 notes · View notes

set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

sticks and stones may break my bones but...

prompt: “who did this to you?”

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi here is my second nick fic of the month, this one is hopefully better than the first lol. it’s set well before the show starts, when nick is still very new to being a detective and has fairly recently met hank. i hope you enjoy!

Nick is in the middle of digging through his freezer for something suitable to use as an icepack when there’s a knock at the door. He startles, bangs his head against the freezer door, slams it shut like it’s done him a personal wrong, and trudges to the door, silently cursing whoever is on the other side.

He looks through the peephole, ready to call out that he’s not interested in whatever product or ideology is being peddled, but is cut short by the sight of a familiar face - Hank.

He opens the door, tilting the left side of his face away so it won’t be directly in Hank’s line of sight.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

Hank shrugs. “You said you didn’t have anything to do tonight,” he explains. “I don’t either, and there’s a Timbers game at 7. Figured we could watch together. I brought food,” he offers, holding up a paper bag.

That’s...actually really nice. If this were any other night, Nick would’ve accepted enthusiastically, but as it is, he just says, “sure,” and opens the door wider, gesturing for Hank to come in.

They quickly settle onto the couch, Nick making sure to stay on Hank’s left side, carefully resting his chin on his hand to cover as much of the bruising and scrapes on his face as he possibly can.

For the first half, everything is fine. Nick has a headache, but it’s not too bad as long as he doesn’t stare too intently at the TV. Hank’s snacks are good, the conversation is sparse and easy, and Portland is ahead with one goal.

At half time, Hank asks where the bathroom is, and when he comes back Nick has leaned his head back against the top of the couch cushion, eyes closed, trying to ignore the way the left side of his face is aching.

“Hey,” Hank says, and Nick startles for the second time that night. He quickly repositions his head, tilting his face down in the hopes of hiding his injuries, but Hank is too observant for that.

“What happened to you?” he asks, and Nick brushes him off.

“It’s nothing.”

Hank’s fingers touch the underside of Nick’s chin, lifting his face. Nick doesn’t bother to try and fight him off - he knows he’s not going to win. Hank looks concerned, which Nick supposes is fair. He knows how he looks. Black eye, scrapes, a bruise on his jaw. Nothing very pleasant to see.

“This isn’t nothing,” Hank says, fingertips ghosting over the bruising on Nick’s skin. “Who did this to you?”

Nick shakes his head, forces himself to lean away from the touch. He’s not going to tell Hank what happened. He himself is not even completely sure what had happened, to be honest.

Hank looks irritated, but doesn’t push. He just stands up, sticking out his hand in a silent invitation. Nick takes it, lets himself get pulled to his feet.

“I assume you have some kind of first-aid kit?”

He nods. “Under the bathroom sink.”

Hank disappears, and a second later reappears with the first-aid kit in his hands. “You got somewhere with decent lighting?”

They end up in his kitchen, sitting at a small table pushed against the wall. Hank has dragged his chair around the table so the two of them are sitting less than a foot apart, which Nick thinks should probably feel more awkward than it does.

Hank does what Nick would have been doing by himself tonight. He cleans out the shallow scrapes on Nick’s face with a stinging antibacterial spray, presses a bandage to the one that Nick knows is a bit deeper and wider than the others. He manages to locate a soft ice pack in the far recesses of Nick’s freezer, and Nick holds it against his face, propping his elbow on the table and leaning into the cold material.

“What happened?” Hank asks, placing an ibuprofen into Nick’s unoccupied hand. Nick glares at it, then at Hank, who just stares back with a very unimpressed look on his face.

“It’s nothing,” Nick repeats, swallowing the pill so he’ll have an excuse to not say anything else.

“It’s not nothing,” Hank counters, “and you need to tell me who did this to you and why so I can -”

“I don’t need you to do anything, okay?” Nick snaps, which is maybe a little harsh but also, he thinks, true. He drops the ice pack and stands up, although he doesn’t really know what he’s going to do - he can’t exactly walk out, this is his apartment.

“I know you don’t need me to do anything for you,” Hank says patiently, not getting up, “but we’re partners. We’re supposed to do things for each other. We’re supposed to trust each other. C’mon, man, at least tell me what happened.”

Nick relents, less because he actually wants to and more because standing up so suddenly has made his headache spike in intensity and he’d really like to sit back down. “I got punched.”

There’s a moment of silence. “And?” Hank prompts, when it becomes clear Nick isn’t going to say anything else.

“And nothing. It’s no big deal.”

“Anything that leaves you bruised and bloody automatically falls under the heading of ‘big deal.’”

Nick shakes his head, pressing the ice pack back against his face. “Hank, I swear, it’s -”

“If you say ‘fine’ one more time I’m going to take you to the precinct and lock you in a holding cell.”

Nick senses he’s not going to be able to get Hank to stop. “If I tell you what happened, you have to swear not to do anything about it,” he says. Making Hank promise him feels a bit childish, but he really doesn’t need anyone else knowing about this and he definitely doesn’t want the guy who punched him thinking that Nick can’t fend for himself. He’s new, he has a lot to prove, and, as he’s recently realized, a lot to learn about how this job actually works.

“Yeah, sure,” Hank agrees.

“It was Robertson,” Nick mumbles, half hoping Hank won’t be able to understand him.

Hank’s eyes widen. “Robertson. The guy from evidence lockup?”

Nick nods. “I...I honestly don’t know what I did. I had a question about the knife we found on Thursday, and I wanted to ask if I could see it, and then he started talking about protocol and I interrupted to ask him a question and he just sort of lost it. I hit him back and he stopped, really suddenly, and told me to get out of there.” He shrugs. “Maybe he was just having a bad day, I don’t know. He seems like a nice enough guy normally.”

Hank looks like he wants to punch something, so Nick quickly reminds him of his promise.

“That was before I knew our coworker did this to you,” Hank protests, but Nick shakes his head forcefully, reaches out and grabs hold of Hank’s arm.

“It’s okay, Hank. I’ll talk to him myself on Monday, figure out what happened, work things out. It’ll be fine. I’m still new, you know? I’ve got a lot to learn about how things work around here.”

Hank still doesn’t look happy, but he nods, and Nick releases his arm. He glances out to the living room, where the score is still 1-0. “You up for finishing the game?”

Hank nods again, then stands up and offers Nick his hand, just as he’d done several minutes before. Nick again takes it, holding on for a little bit longer than is strictly necessary as he waits for the pounding in his head to die down to a reasonable level. They make their way back to the couch and sit down as Portland takes a corner kick.

“Thank you,” Nick says, after a few minutes of easy silence.

“Of course,” Hank responds immediately. “This is what partners do.”

thanks for reading this! i hope you enjoyed :)

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #who did this to you?#grimm #fic #nick burkhardt #beat up #bruised #my writing #i say things #i had fun writing this i hope you liked it! have a good evening or whatever time

45 notes · View notes

amyscascadingtabs · 3 years

Text

don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 1]

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.” “Yeah?” Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” "Won't be a problem."

Amy Santiago doesn't date cops. Jake Peralta's sworn never to date a lawyer again. When a couple of drinks and the returning of a borrowed shirt ends with the two of them in bed together, Amy decides to take control of the situation the best way she knows how: a comprehensive set of rules. There's just one little thing she hadn't anticipated – Jake Peralta is full of surprises.

Written for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange.

AO3 link // playlist

My contribution to this year’s fic exchange, for @fezzle! @b99fandomevents 💛

1. i never saw you coming (and i’ll never be the same)

He gets out of the car, and before Amy can gather the courage to shout after him, he’s disappeared from her sight.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing her fist and punching it in frustration. It doesn’t feel better, just makes her hand hurt. Amy pretends that’s what’s making her eyes tear up, and not the thought that she just screwed up her chances of ever seeing Jake Peralta again.

five months earlier.

The cop is five minutes late entering the courtroom, and Amy vows to dislike him from that point onward.

What's worse is that he doesn't seem ashamed. He simply gives Judge Stewart an apologetic grin, runs a hand through his already messy hair, and sits down on the bench next to the sergeant Amy recognizes as Terry Jeffords. Amy gives him a polite faked smile to tell him she's noted this presence and she's going to win this case, but the cop doesn't seem to notice the toxicity in her facial expression, because she gets another wide grin back. Judging from the colorful marks on his teeth, it looks like he had candy for breakfast – could it be gummy bears? Either way, Amy's respect for the man sinks even lower.

At least she won't have to worry about him, she tells herself. She already knows this case is about to be a win.

That is until it turns out this man has a reply for everything. She’d been certain the evidence against her client was circumstantial at best, nowhere near enough to get him convicted on, and the notes she’d gone through from the initial police questioning had lacked significant information. It had been nothing short of sloppy, and she’d entered the courthouse this morning filled with glowing confidence. That same confidence is now seeping away, dripping onto the polished floors of the courtroom in exchange for heated frustration as it turns out the detective – Jake Peralta, she learns – was present at the scene earlier than Amy had gathered, and from the vantage point he had, saw her client running from the corner store at full speed.

“Would you say it’s possible my client was running for a different reason?” She asks, staring coldly into the detective’s eyes as she speaks. “Such as exercising, perhaps?”

“Well, he was carrying a huge green backpack, identical to the one he was wearing when my partner Charles caught him ten minutes later. So, no,” he says, meeting her look with a smug smile of his own. “I would say that’s unlikely.”

“But not impossible?”

“Considering we also found the stolen goods in that same backpack, I’d say the chance is pretty solid it was him.”

“The bags couldn’t have been switched? Or, as my client claims, the goods couldn’t have been dropped in there by someone who wanted to get rid of them?”

“With all due respect,” says Jake Peralta, and the self-assuredness in his voice is enough for her to know the case is lost. “The streets were more crowded than a Taylor Swift concert, your honor. Someone would have seen something.”

It’s late Friday afternoon by the time Amy returns to the office of Newsom & Associates, but there’s still plenty of her coworkers left to watch as she throws her briefcase on top of the chair before closing the door to her office and digging out her pack of shame cigarettes from the bottom drawer of her desk. The only window in the room opens out to a back alley with trash cans and forgotten bikes, which is a drab view most of the time but comes in handy for secret shame-smoking. She closes her eyes and leans back against the wall, trying to savor the first inhale. She hates the habit and always tells herself she’s going to quit soon, but at times when work stresses her out like this, there’s no better fix. It’s all Jake Peralta’s fault, anyway. He’d waved at her when they’d left the courtroom, looking genuinely pleased to see her, and that had only worsened her frustration. It’s one thing being defeated – it’s worse when the winner acts like it wasn’t even a big deal.

“You should stop that.” The sound of Rosa’s voice appearing in the doorway to Amy’s office causes her to inhale too much smoke, coughing and tearing up as she hurries to extinguish the cigarette butt on the windowsill. “It’s gross.”

“I needed it,” Amy coughs again before drying her eyes with the sleeve of her blazer. “You should’ve been there. That fucking detective ruined my defense.”

“So? It happens. Doesn’t make you a bad lawyer. Stop pitying yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you win nearly all your cases,” Amy mumbles. “And everyone’s terrified of you.”

Rosa does a little shrug, but Amy thinks she can spot the hint of a smile on her lips. She can’t be certain, though. Rosa almost never smiles, but that’s not nearly the most terrifying thing about her. She also rides her motorcycle to court and wears leather jackets and skin-tight black jeans to trials, and somehow no one's ever dared to police her on it. Amy once asked her out of curiosity if putting on a blazer would really hurt that much, and the stare she got back told her she’d be a fool to make that mistake again.

“Either way, it's not that. It was that cop who ruined everything. I mean, he showed up late, for god’s sake, with candy in his teeth and a wrinkled suit! But he somehow had an answer and explanation for everything,” Amy snorts. “And he smiled the whole time like he’d already won. And he referenced Taylor Swift! During the trial! Who does that?”

Rosa lets out a laugh. “You're a Swift hater? God, please don't tell me you took Kanye’s side too.”

“I didn't – that's beside the point!”

“Which is?”

“That he has zero respect for the sacred rules of a courtroom, and gets away with it all because of that super-charm smile.”

“Yeah, you mentioned the smile. Twice.”

“It was just so…” She clenches her fist until her red nails press into her palm to the point of pain, then releases it. “It's fine. I’ll win my next case, and there are lots of cops in New York. I probably won't ever see him again.”

Amy can barely hide her frustration in court the next week when she hears the doors open and looks up from the papers she was sorting, only to see Jake Peralta for the second time in her life. He’s on time today, which she supposes is progress, but there are stains on his shirt that seem to be coming from the can of orange soda he’s holding in his hand. She wonders if it's his breakfast. If that's his diet, he looks surprisingly fit in a grey suit for it.

He grins again when he sees her, raising his hand in a lazy wave. Amy gives him a forced smile, then returns to her papers. She’ll have to make sure to win this time.

But despite her confidence and very best efforts, she loses to Jake Peralta yet another time.

And another.

It's not that she's suddenly magically unlucky, because she still manages to win several other cases, but every time Jake Peralta shows up to testify, without fault, Amy loses.

It infuriates her.

The worst part is that Jake seems oblivious to her anger. He smiles at her every time they leave the courtroom, even though she returns them with little to no genuineness at all. She once spots him doing a childish victory gesture outside the courthouse, but he never once takes the opportunity to brag about his win to her face.

Aside from his surprisingly good manners when it comes to bragging, though, he's a mess. There's always some kind of stain on his shirt or his cheek that he seems unaware of, his ways of describing things involve one too many pop culture references for Amy’s liking, and she starts preparing to meet him every time a detective is five minutes late. She wonders if no one's ever told him how one is supposed to behave in a courtroom, but he’s usually accompanied by the precinct’s sergeant, so that seems unlikely. The more likely option, Amy figures, is that he just doesn't seem to find it that important; especially considering he seems to get away with it every single time.

She swears it's all because of that stupid infectious smile.

It pleases Amy to no end when she learns that Jake Peralta is going to be the witness in one of the strongest cases she’s had in a long while. The client was clearly acting in self-defense, she has a witness of her own who can testify to that, and although she knows that nothing is for certain until the verdict falls, she’s got a good feeling about this one. Finally, the day has come for Jake Peralta to watch her win.

At first, the state attorney’s case seems solid. Jake is assisted by a short, round-faced man with dark brown hair and an expression that looks like he’s seconds away from apologizing for taking up everyone’s time, but his suit is matched and perfectly straight and he gets right to the point without any odd references, so Amy still earns a fair amount of respect for detective Charles Boyle. He and Jake had entered the subway car after hearing about a fight taking place, and stepped on just in time to watch her client aim a closed-fist punch at the face of the man on top of him. It’s clear and convincing, but Amy knows that after the recess, it will be her time to shine. She loves these moments, when it’s obvious the other side thinks they have it in the bag but she knows something they don’t, and they have no idea what’s coming. She knows trials are about justice and not personal victories – but she’s only human. Winning is always a thrill.

She’s thinking about how she’s going to be celebrating her win later this evening when Jake Peralta bumps into her at the coffee shop neighboring the courthouse. As in, literally bumps into her, with his elbow when he hurries forward to grab a plastic cup with whipped cream and so much caramel syrup on top of the coffee that Amy pities his dentist.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry… wait, it's you!” He shines up as if he’d just seen a past good friend, and Amy’s once more taken aback by how polite he is. A lot of cops she meets during trials either tend to make fun of her profession or glare bitterly at her from a distance, but Jake's doing neither. He even reaches out his free hand to shake hers, so she accepts. “Jake Peralta – wow, you have a very firm handshake.”

“I took a seminar. Amy Santiago.”

“Where?” He asks, but she ignores him and moves forward in line to order her coffee with milk.

“Nothing for your client? Wow. I’d expected you to have better manners than that, Santiago.”

“I offered, but he wanted to spend recess with his partner for moral support. See?” She raises a brow at him. “I do have manners.”

There's that smile again, up close this time, and Amy's relieved when the barista hands her the coffee so she can hide the involuntary blush in her cheeks. She never noticed he had dimples before.

“So, how are you feeling about the rest of the trial, then? Ready to go defend the guilty guy?”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Peralta. Famously one of the most sacred principles in the American justice system. And I was born ready.”

“And lose. The whole question was, are you ready to go defend the guilty guy and lose, and you said you were born that way.” Jake grins in a way that makes him look like an overgrown mischievous school kid. Maybe not that far off, Amy thinks.

“Twist my words all you want, I am winning this case.” She hesitates for a moment, noticing Jake's detective partner looking at the two of them from a table in the corner of the room. Not normally something she'd be that creeped out by, if it hadn't been for the fact that the man isn’t tearing his eyes away from them, and he looks weirdly overjoyed. “Uhm, is detective Boyle okay? He's staring at us pretty intensely.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, he has… an eye condition.” Jake turns around and mouths something that looks to be BOYLE, and the man rolls his eyes before stalking away. “Ignore him. Anyway… so what do you think about the judge?”

Amy's about to launch into a description of her good experience with judge Myers when someone brushes past her with their iced coffee in a hurry, losing control of the plastic cup. The unsecured lid wobbles, and before Amy realizes what’s about to happen, cold coffee splashes onto her earlier pristine white blouse. “Fuck!” She reaches for a bunch of paper napkins and tries to dab the worst away with them, but the milky coffee is already seeping through the fabric and leaving an obvious stain that her blazer can’t hide.

“What a jerk,” Jake mutters, glaring in the direction of where the stranger disappeared.

“Never mind that! I don’t have another shirt! I can’t go into a courtroom looking like this! Unlike you, I actually care about whether my clothes have giant stains on them!”

“First of all, rude, and second of all, they’re not giant.”

“I don’t care. I’m screwed. Fuck, I don’t have time to run back home before the trial starts – I guess I could call Rosa –”

“Hey, hey.” Jake holds up his hands as if trying to calm her down, which only makes Amy more frustrated. “I know this is kind of crazy, but, I have a shirt in my car that I was planning to return to my ex. But emphasis on ex, so…” He shrugs. “You could borrow it?”

Amy considers her options. On the one hand, she figures there’s about an eighty percent chance that whatever Jake has in his car also has some kind of mysterious stain on it, but on the other hand, she took the subway today and there's no way she’ll make it to her apartment and back before the court is back in session. Asking for a longer recess is an option, but making everyone wait simply because she needs a change of clothes makes her too uncomfortable to even consider.

“Fine,” she relents. “Where's your car?”

Jake's car turns out to be an old Mustang, which Amy can tell even from her strictly limited car-knowledge is pretty impressive, but she doesn't understand how he can find anything in there. The backseat is a mess of empty orange soda bottles, a couple of frisbees, candy wrappers, what looks to be cartoons and old CDs, and the cup holders have shaving foam next to another can of orange soda. She's equally surprised and impressed when he pulls out a clean, dark blue charmeuse blouse. Whoever Jake's ex-girlfriend was, she seems to have both taste and money.

“You're totally saving my day today,” she says as he gives it to her. “You really didn't have to.”

“Prove that cops aren't all bad?” Amy rolls her eyes, and Jake laughs. “Just kidding. You have to give it back, though.”

“As soon as I’ve washed it. Wait, we have to be able to get in touch.” She digs in the inside pocket of her briefcase and pulls out two of her business cards. “I’m assuming you don't have any, so write your number on the back of that one.”

“Rude, but correct.” He scribbles down something on one of the cards before giving it back. “I’ll see you up there, then… Amy Santiago.”

Something about the way he says her name, slowly and with perfect pronunciation, makes her want to hear it again. She hurries back into the building and toward the bathrooms, hopefully before he can tell that she's blushing.

“The defense may call the next witness.”

“The defense calls Elinor Simons.” Amy can feel everyone's eyes on her as well as the witness as a young girl, no more than eighteen, walks up to the stand. She's pale, but she looks determined, and Amy gives her a comforting smile as she swears the oath.

Elinor’s voice trembles at her first words, but Amy keeps steady eye contact with her, and soon she’s speaking louder and less hesitant. She had been on her way to her friend’s house when she entered the same subway car as the two young men, and had overheard the two of them fighting over something. Sitting only a few seats away from them in the near-empty car, she’d noticed the defendant looking scared, and out of curiosity, had turned off her music. She’d heard the man who’d later gotten attacked – Mr. Lorentz – scream that the defendant was an asshole, and then she’d seen him push him to the floor, much unlike the way the prosecution had described a course of events in which both men had slipped. It had scared her, so she’d gotten up to walk away, but before she could move she’d seen Mr. Lorentz leaning down.

“It looked like he was about to hit the defendant,” she says without wavering, and Amy can see a few of the jury members nodding in understanding. “And even if they were about the same size, Mr. Lorentz looked really strong. The defendant tried, but it seemed to me like he was unable to get up. I remember thinking this wasn’t going to end well, so I headed for the end of the car before they noticed me.”

“And you’re sure of what you saw?”

“Completely sure. I only found out later that the defendant was a cousin of my sister’s boyfriend, which is how I learned about the trial.”

Amy nods and clasps her hands together, trying to assume a confident stance as she keeps her eyes focused on the witness stand. “Elinor, in the position he was in, do you believe that the defendant would have been scared?”

“I think anyone would have been.”

“So the punch witnesses watched the defendant throw, could it have been in self-defense?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

Amy smiles. “Thank you. No further questions.”

The prosecution’s closing arguments are short and precise, sticking entirely to the part of the events that took part after the police walked in. The district attorney, a balding man in his fifties, as good as overlooks Elinor’s testimony in favor of focusing in on detailed descriptions of the headaches Mr. Lorentz had experienced after the event, and that alone is enough to make Amy’s blood boil; but instead she just sits there, waiting with a polite smile on her lips.

Finally, the other attorney sits down, and the judge nods at Amy to stand up. During her very first trials, this moment used to freak her out – everyone’s eyes on her and waiting expectantly – but with time she’s come to love this. It reminds her of the thrill of getting the last word in a heated fight with her siblings when she was younger, only now, she doesn’t have to shout to be heard. Everyone’s already listening.

“Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: it’s correct that the defendant hit Mr. Lorentz on that train. He admits to doing so himself.” Amy nods to the young man sitting next to her, fidgeting nervously with the cuffs on his shirt. “But there is one key aspect which the prosecution has so conveniently chosen to ignore, and that is the events which led up to Mr. Petersen’s actions. A background which he not only has explained clearly himself, but which is also backed up by Ms. Simmons’ testimony.” She gestures with her hand to Elinor.

“You see, Mr. Petersen wasn’t acting unprovoked. When the incident happened, he had been pushed to the floor, and like both my client and the witness described, he was unable to get up. Mr. Lorentz himself admits to practicing weightlifting; he’s not a weak man, and in the moment, he was clearly upset with the defendant. As Ms. Simmons put it… “ She takes a break to gather the attention of everyone in the room. “Anyone in that position would have been terrified.”

“Under New York Law, Penal Law paragraph thirty-five point fifteen, a person is justified in using physical force against another, when that person is under the reasonable belief that the physical force is necessary to defend the person from what they reasonably believe to be the illegal imminent use of force or the illegal use of force. Mr. Petersen was stuck, and under the reasonable belief that Mr. Lorentz could hurt him unless he managed to free himself. He acted in self-defense, which I remind you that the prosecution has not been able to disprove. In fact, the case against Mr. Petersen cannot be proved against reasonable doubt, which means that you must find him… not guilty.”

From the other side of the room, she swears she can feel Jake’s eyes on her. When she looks up, she sees him mouthing nice job.

“What did you say he looked like, now again? Except for crazy hot and adorable?” Kylie takes another sip of her mojito, spying over the crowded bar.

“Okay, I said neither of those things.”

Kylie shrugs. “Didn’t have to.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, I guess kind of a bigger nose… and I don’t know what he wears outside of court, but there was a leather jacket in the front seat of his car, so maybe that?” She strains her neck to try and see through the Friday night crowd. She’s never been to this particular Brooklyn bar before, but Jake had suggested it when Amy asked about a good place to give him back the shirt, and she’d figured after a long week, she might as well treat herself to a couple of after-work drinks with a friend. After being asked about the so-called mystery hottie five times, though, she’s starting to regret bringing Kylie along.

“Mm, that’s like, all the guys in here… oh, wait, that one’s waving to you!” Kylie points to a figure near the door, elbowing Amy in the side and causing her to nearly choke on her wine. She’s still coughing when Jake walks up to them, trying to offer him a smile while drying her eyes. Jake looks politely confused, but shakes Kylie’s hand in the meantime.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says with a meaning wink to Amy before sliding off the leather barstool, leaving it for Jake. “Have a good night!”

“Ignore her.” Amy sighs. “Sorry, I…”

“No, no worries,” Jake says, and the honest care in his expression makes her feel oddly warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She waves a dismissive hand and picks up the dry-cleaning bag hanging on the back of her chair. “Well, here’s the shirt. Thank you for the loan. Or thank your ex, I suppose.”

“Dry-cleaned, really? You truly are type A.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, it makes sense.” He nods to the glass in her hand. “Celebrating Tuesday’s win?”

“Something like that. It was Monday, though,” she can’t stop herself from correcting him. “I don’t get a lot of time off. Gotta make the best out of it.”

“Yeah, me neither. Do you mind if I join you for another drink? Or maybe you should do water, in case you choke again?”

Something about the way he poses it like a challenge makes her take the glass, put it to her lips, and swallow the rest of the wine in one gulp. “I think I can handle it.”

They pay for their own drinks, because whatever this meeting is, it’s definitely not a date, and it makes Amy relieved that Jake doesn’t seem to think so either.

“A toast,” he suggests. “To your win this week. I gotta give it to you, those closing statements were solid.”

“To justice,” Amy says, and they raise their beer bottles in unison. “And my win. Finally.”

“Yeah, what has it been, like, five wins for me?”

“Four, but dream on, Peralta.”

Jake laughs. The dimples in his cheeks become even more prominent when he laughs, Amy notes. “Have you always been this intense about winning cases, then? Or is it something that comes with law school? Like there’s a class in being petty about this stuff?”

You’re intense too, she thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. “Maybe. I have seven brothers, and I was the only girl. I got pretty good at winning fights using other things than physical strength when I was a kid. Actually, sometimes physical strength, too.”

“I feel like you could beat someone up if you wanted to. You could surprise them.”

“Oh, I could most definitely beat someone up if I wanted to. But I stuck to arguing. I got good at it. And I always had good grades, so I ended up at Columbia, and I’ve never really regretted it.” She takes a swig of her beer. “Not even when cops call me the devil.”

“I wouldn’t call you the devil,” Jake says. “I mean, do I think you lack a bit of a moral compass? Probably. But each to their own.”

She leans her head a little bit to the side, eyeing him closely. “Why do you think that?”

“Well, you have to defend people that you know did awful things, right? Doesn’t that make you feel sick sometimes?”

“I don’t have to defend their actions. Most times, it’s not even about that. It’s about making sure the trial is fair, the evidence is sufficient and their rights are respected, so that if there’s a conviction, it’s actually beyond any reasonable doubt. I like to believe most people are better than their worst moments. I see it as my job to make sure they’re treated that way.”

“Huh.” Jake nods slowly. “Guess I never thought of it that way.”

“Plus,” she winks, “someone’s gotta hold you guys accountable, right?”

“Fine.” He shakes his head. “Hey, did you say you went to Columbia? My captain’s husband teaches law there. Did you ever have a Kevin Cozner?”

“No way! Your captain is Raymond Holt?” She’s speaking way too loudly, she can tell from the way other people are glancing at her, but Jake looks entertained. “Sorry, it’s just – Professor Cozner was my favorite constitutional law teacher. I still send him and Raymond Christmas cards every year!”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Jake grins. “But, how weird is that? Almost like the universe is bringing us together or something.”

Amy thinks that it’s not that weird, since Kevin must teach hundreds of students every year that g on to become lawyers, but she kind of wants to keep seeing that smile on Jake’s face forever, so she nods. “So weird.”

They order another drink, plus some chips and nuts when Jake realizes he forgot to eat dinner, and move to another table in the back of the room. Amy’s surprised how comfortable she feels in his presence. It’s like she can’t wipe the smile off her face but doesn’t want to, and with time and a little more alcohol, jokes that she barely would have noticed on any other day become laugh-out-loud funny. It feels natural, even though she’s not sure how, and she tries not to glance at the clock on the wall when he doesn’t either. She’s got work to do tomorrow and she can’t stay out forever, but she doesn’t want to be reminded that this evening has to end at some point.

“So what made you become a cop, then?” She asks when she realizes she’s the only one who’s shared her origin story tonight. “Childhood superhero dreams?”

Jake shines up like he’s been waiting for the question all night. “Oh, that’s easy. Die Hard.”

“Really?”

“For sure. Actually, my mom said I was always good at protecting people, so I ended up doing it for a job. But I think that’s bullshit. It was definitely Die Hard.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Amy confesses, and Jake stares at her like she just insulted his entire being. “But if you want a cop movie, my top three’s Training Day, Lethal Weapon, and Fargo.”

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong! How can you not have seen Die Hard? It’s classic, man!”

“I just never did! How many lawyer movies have you seen, then?”

“Uhm…” Jake squints. “Charles made me watch Legally Blonde once? It was pretty good, honestly.”

“Well, duh, that movie is a cinematic masterpiece and a feminist work of art. How feminist is Die Hard, from a scale of one to ten?”

“Hey! Holly Gennaro does plenty of cool stuff throughout the movies! You’re just going to have to watch them yourself.”

“I can almost guarantee you I won’t.”

“Fine, but you’re missing out.” He grabs a couple of peanuts from the jar between them, throwing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. “Cool trick, right?”

Amy raises an eyebrow. “Is this what you do at work all day?”

“I did teach myself that during stakeouts, but no. Whatever. Throw me another one.” She does, and he catches it again, this time almost sliding off the barstool in the process. She laughs a bubbling laugh as he does it another time. “Now you.”

“Fine. Try me.” The peanut flies through the air between them, and she tries to dive for it, but it just ends up landing at her feet. “Okay, another one.” She misses that one too. “Okay, there must be something wrong with these nuts.”

“Title of your sextape.”

“Title of my what?”

“Nevermind.” Jake laughs. “You just need some practice. Maybe at work? It could liven up a trial.”

“Nuh-uh, don’t need practice. Just need a better tactic.” Without thinking, she grabs a handful of them this time, throwing them in the air. This time, she catches a few of them in her mouth, while the rest end up spread over the couch and floor. “The key is volume!”

“Yeah, and the bartender is looking at you like he wants to kill you, so maybe don’t do it again or we’ll get thrown out.”

“It’s fine, I’m a lawyer.”

“That phrase works well to get out of trouble?”

“If you know what you’re doing. We could order more drinks to keep him happy?”

“Shots?”

“I’m down if you’re down.”

Jake orders a Kamikaze shot for each of them, and as she reaches forward to take the second glass, her hand brushes against the top of his for a moment longer than necessary, resting there. It’s warm, and it feels calloused but somehow soft at the same time. They look at each other, his light brown eyes staring into hers, and she feels instantly hyper-aware that they’re around far, far, too many people.

She lets go of his hand, taking the shot and swallowing it before anyone can notice what’s happening. It smells like sour hand sanitizer and burns going down, and she laughs at Jake’s grimace when he drinks his.

“God, every time.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, I know this is crazy, but… do you maybe want to get out of here? We could have another drink at my place… watch Die Hard… whatever.”

“Mm, yeah. Maybe I should check that the shirt gets back to your place properly?”

“Shirt? What shirt? Oh, right, fuck, the shirt!” Jake spins in place, rushing back to the table where they were just sat. “Shit, I probably spilled beer on it, Sophia’s going to be pissed now...”

“It’s still in the bag, smartass.” Amy shows him. “Ta-da. Shirt’s still clean. Comes in handy being type A sometimes, huh?”

Jake sighs. “I know you're making fun of me, but I could seriously kiss you right now.”

Maybe it’s the four drinks, maybe it’s the thrill that comes with how rarely she does this, or maybe it’s just sheer and wild impulse, but Amy finds herself whispering,

“Maybe we should get out of here, then.”

Amy learns a lot of things that night.

She learns that Jake Peralta is a seriously good kisser, tasting faintly of orange soda beneath the alcohol and salt, and that being pressed against his front door with his hands protecting her head strikes the perfect balance between feeling adventurous and safe. She learns that he’s never really quiet, soft moans and sighs filling the room in the breaks between their kisses, but that the sound only makes her want more.

She learns that he wears even more layers than her. Beneath the leather jacket and hoodie is a checkered blue flannel that has way too many buttons for her liking right now, and she curses her slight tipsiness while working at them one by one. When she's finally done, Jake pulls the grey t-shirt over his head, and she barely has time to pause to admire how he somehow can look fit despite that catastrophic diet, or the curls on his chest that are begging for her to run her fingers through them, before he's asking “my turn?”. She learns that Jake Peralta is impatient, that his hands work fast on the buttons of her cerise shirt, and that he gets adorably confused when he can't find the button on her suit pants.

“It's on the side,” she tells him and shows him the zipper, and then they're both giggling until she kisses him like that and it's back on again.

She learns that his hands feel good, sliding slowly up the sides of her stomach and back and rubbing against her shoulder blades. She unclasps the white t-shirt bra for him, smiling to herself as he swallows quickly.

“God, you’re hot,” he whispers, and the soft bites he trails down her chest and stomach make her feel that way, too.

They move to his bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind them, and then she’s underneath him and breathing hard as his mouth moves lower, closer. The anticipation of it all is driving her mad, but then he looks up at her and asks “okay?” with the most sincere and caring expression, and Amy’s had very, very few one-night-stands in her life, but she’s certainly never had one like this.

“Okay,” she nods, and there’s that familiar grin again, but this time it makes her feel warm in a very specific place.

She learns that Jake Peralta can do a whole lot more with his mouth than talking people’s ears off. His breath ghosts over her through her underwear at first, warming her up even though it’s barely even necessary, and then he’s finally pulling down the black material and helping her kick them off. His tongue is careful at first, just tasting her as if to gauge her expression, but then she nods at him to continue and the next second, her head is thrown back as she lets out a gasp.

She learns that he likes it when she pulls his hair. At first, her hands are just lightly tangling in it for practicality, but then she holds on tighter as a means of control when her legs begin to tense up and the familiar pressure is starting to rise. She’s raising her hips slightly only to lower them again, helping him get her there, and the curls of his hair are just begging to be pulled.

“Do that again,” he pauses to say, so she tugs his hair harder and he straight-up moans.

She learns that he can make her scream, which she wasn’t expecting, and she rocks through the euphoric waves and pants and practically melts into the bed as she comes down from it.

“That good?” He winks, and she wants to roll her eyes, but he did just make her come harder than she remembers doing in a long time, so she kisses the smile off of him instead, tasting her arousal on his lips.

She learns that he's respectful and a gentleman, telling her that they can stop this here if she'd rather, but she doesn’t want to, and they don’t. He has to rifle through the drawer in his bedside table for a while before he finds a condom – maybe he doesn’t do this as often as she’d thought, maybe it’s another sign of his poor organization skills, but he finds one soon enough so she’s not sure she cares – and then it’s a little bit of a blur, but she rolls it on him with precise strokes and lowers herself on top of him and oh my god.

She learns that when he looks at her, when he touches her, it makes her feel powerful and special all at once. He plays with her boobs as she sets the pace, his thumbs rolling against her nipples in a way she didn’t realize she liked, and she picks up her rhythm, clenching around him and leaning back on his raised thighs.

She learns just how enjoyable it is to watch him fall apart underneath her. His pace stutters and he curses, groaning a confession of how close he is, and she could almost come again from watching him alone but she brings two fingers to her clit and touches herself anyway. He finishes before her, spilling out inside the condom with a moan that she can only imitate, collapsing against his chest as she brings herself to orgasm again right after him.

When they're done learning, they collapse together in his bed. For a moment, Amy considers turning around and calling a cab home, because that would be the most responsible thing to do, but then Jake throws an arm around her to pull her closer, and after all, she's still a little tipsy.

What harm could it possibly do, anyway?

Sharp, unforgiving morning light wakes Amy up before her alarm the next morning. She must have forgotten to close the blinds last night, she thinks, and rolls over on the other side so the light doesn't hurt her eyes. She expects the usual greeting of a sea of pillows, and has to stop herself from letting out a yelp of surprise when instead, she's hit with a wall of Jake sleeping with his back to her. A vague memory of them falling asleep like this hits her. He’d wanted to be the little spoon, she remembers.

At first, knowing that intimate fact about him makes her feel proud. Then it makes her panic.

She jumps out of bed, throwing off her part of the comforter in search of her clothes. She finds her underwear and bra together with her shirt, trying to dress as quietly as possible, quick before Jake wakes up and discovers that she's half-naked in his apartment and they have to have a very, very awkward talk –

“Amy? What are you doing?”

Too late.

She freezes on the spot, chewing on her lip as she fumbles for an explanation. Jake’s eyes rake over her with curiosity, which somehow feels a lot more exposing today than it did last night, and it's making her lose track of her words. His bed head curls and disoriented smile is decidedly not helping her focus.

“We slept together last night,” she manages.

Jake’s smile grows wider and prouder as he sits up fully in bed. Amy blushes as she notices the shadow of two hickeys way too close to his neck to be professional.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“Very funny.” She sees her pants thrown across the back of a massage chair and quickly reaches for them. “But this… You know this can’t be a thing, right? Just so we're on the same page about it.”

Jake frowns. “What do you mean with a thing?”

“This – us – we can't date, Jake. I know that. You know that.”

He’s silent for a moment before he fakes a shudder. “Yeah, yeah, no. I’ve dated lawyers before. Never ends well.”

“You have?” The reveal surprises her. “It doesn't matter. This can’t happen.”

“I know.”

“Good,” she exhales. “I’m just going to find my clothes, then, and then I’m going to leave.”

“Hey, wait.” He twists his hands together, bringing them to his chin with a smile. “This is going to sound weird, but… even if nothing can happen between us, I’m still glad we had sex last night.”

The confession takes her by surprise, and Amy wonders again if she just doesn't know anything about one-night-stands. Sleep together, have fun, sneak out in the morning before anything can go deeper – isn't that how it's supposed to go? If so, she's majorly failing, because she can't stop herself from giving him another shy smile in return.

“Me too. Just because, we were like… really good at it.”

“Stupid good!” Jake exclaims. “It makes no sense!”

“We still can't date, though,” she reminds him. “So how do we work this out?”

“Well, it sort of looked like you were planning to just leave, and I’m not going to stop you if that's your choice, but… there is one more option.”

“What are you thinking?”

“We could be friends with benefits,” he shrugs. “None of the commitment, none of the weird incompatibilities between a cop and a lawyer, just us and some stupid good sex.”

“Friends with benefits? Do the kids really say that, still?”

“I’m saying you could consider it.”

Amy's first instinct is to protest, to say absolutely not and leave on the spot. Her relationship history may not contain that many names, but at least they’ve all been fairly straightforward and conventional. She's never done something like this before, and the mere idea of jumping into something so unknown with someone like Jake scares her shitless.

Then again, she's also never been with someone like Jake. Yesterday hadn't been a date, but it had still been better than all the awkward dinners and half-hearted walks she's been at since she broke up with Teddy a year ago. And the sex – well, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't already thinking of doing that again.

“There would need to be rules,” she says.

“Sure, we can come up with some.”

“I’ll write a contract.”

“We need a contract?”

“Yeah,” she decides. “If this is going to work, we need a comprehensive set of rules, and they need to be written down, because I don't trust you not to adjust them in your head last minute.”

“How am I attracted to you? But, fine.”

Amy shakes her head, closing the last button on the shirt that had been left unbuttoned until now. “So… I’ll put together a draft and bring it over tonight? Your place?”

Jake gapes at her for a moment like he can't believe what he hears, but then he nods. “I’m free.”

“Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then.” With that, she pulls on her socks and shoes, leaving before she can freak out again.

“Cool, cool,” she hears just before closing the door. “Friends with benefits. Cool, cool, cool, cool… cool.”

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #my writing #b99 #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fanfiction #MY FIRST AU PLEASE ENJOY #three more parts to come hahah but i'm only going to post one before the deadline #read on ao3 if you want line breaks since tumblr has ruined those

61 notes · View notes