Hey Pookie 😊 When Are You Coming Back ☹️☹️☹️

High and Dry | ch. 3

thomas j. x reader

Warnings: swearing, mostly yap tbh this chapter is pretty mid

Wc: 3k

Guys I swear it’ll pick up after this chapter js you wait 🙏

“I’d like for you to come visit,” your mother said, a smile in her tone.

“Mom,” you started, stress evident in the single word, “I would love to, but with the school year just starting…” you trailed off, hoping she’d get the hint.

“You don’t have the time,” she finished. A relieved sigh escaped your lungs, and you peered in the tiny window to see Thomas still typing on his computer.

“Yes. I’m sorry, mom, I—“

“It’s okay,” she interrupted abruptly. “You don’t have to give me an excuse. If you can’t visit, then let’s leave it at that.”

A heavy, almost frustrated sigh escaped you. As much as you’d like to visit her, you weren’t quite ready to face her after the years of emotional trauma she put you through. And with the reintroduction of Thomas in your life, you weren’t quite sure if you would ever be ready. He was the only person you opened up to enough to let him see that side of your family. He was the only one to have met her. And she really loved him. Still does, probably, because you never told her why you stopped being friends.

She was under the impression that you grew apart due to him moving to France. You never did have the heart to tell her the real reason.

“Okay.” You frowned. “I’ll call you when I get the chance.”

She hung up without saying goodbye. Instant guilt bubbled in your stomach all the way up to your chest, making you grimace bitterly. You felt like a total shithead for pushing her away, but what could you do? The state of your mental health was deteriorating, the second most stressful time of year was beginning, and enemy number one somehow found a way to wiggle back in your life.

It was too overwhelming to deal with all at once, especially since your therapy visits were slowing down to once a month rather than once every two weeks. A small, desperate part of you was convincing you that it was for your mother’s sake that you don’t visit. If you went, you reasoned, what would end up happening is projection from all the fucked-up shit going on in life. As a result, she would only get worse and you would be unhappy, too. So it was best to avoid until it stopped all together.

You took a moment to regain yourself, then walked back in and wordlessly sat, ignoring the lump that formed in your throat.

—

“First day of teaching, how are you feeling?” Alex grinned, his hands clasped together. You shrugged.

“Nervous. Excited. Kind of dreading it.”

Hamilton shook his head, a wide smile still plastered on his face. “You’ll do fine! First day is always nerve-wrecking, but I’m always down the hall if you need anything.”

A sheepish thanks was sent his way, and you tried not to think about all the chaos that would ensue during the day. There was bound to be that one kid who causes trouble. When running into those types of students, you have to remind yourself they probably have something going on in their lives causing them to act up. Giving them a reaction would only give them a reason to continue. Best thing you can do is laugh it off and move on.

“I appreciate it, Alexander,” you said. His long hair was put up in a ponytail, and he had this ambition to him that seemed to infect the people around him. He was only a year or two your junior, yet he was so intelligent and walked like he owned the place.

“Of course. Hey, Lafayette got back with his girlfriend, just like I predicted.” He sat on the edge of your desk, changing the focus from you to drama.

“Oh, good, he won’t shamelessly flirt with me anymore,” you sighed in mock relief.

“Who’s shamelessly flirtin’ with you?” A certain southerner chimed in, walking through the door. Thomas held two coffees in his hand, one iced and one hot. His biceps strained against the white button up he wore, and—wait. Why were you staring at his arms?

“And now's a good time for me to leave. See you, Y/n, good luck!” Hamilton hopped off the desk, scowling at Jefferson when they crossed paths. Thomas sent back an equally distasteful glare, then turned to you with an expectant look.

“No one anymore,” you formed your mouth into a thin line, shifting in the shitty swivel chair the school provides.

“Hm. Okay.” He narrowed his eyes, scanning your appearance, taking note of the neatness in your hair and makeup. “I brought you coffee, even though you took my spot again.”

An iced latte with a distinct Starbucks logo was placed on your desk. Instantly, your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You hesitantly grabbed it, taking a sip. It was your favorite. How did he remember that you like extra caramel and extra vanilla?

“It was open,” you shrugged, looking down at the drink. “This isn’t laced with anything, is it?”

He smirked. “How’d you know?”

“Because you would never bring me coffee out of the goodness of your heart—if you have one, that is,” you retorted.

His smirk grew wider, and he would rather you throw it in his face than tell you the real reason why he brought you coffee. He felt bad for you. After what happened the day before, he realized you must be going through a lot, and a tiny part of him wanted to correct his behaviors. But he would never admit that. So instead of apologizing or trying to be genuinely nice, he figured he could reach you through food. The best way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach, after all.

“I have a heart,” he protested. “Trust me, L/n, if I wanted you dead you’d be dead. But you’re still breathin’.”

“Thank you, you are such an amazing person now that you’ve spared me! What would I ever do without you?” Your tone was dripping with sarcasm. He seemed to thrive in it.

“Suffer, probably,” he suggested, a slyness in his stupid smile. You hated the way that you liked how his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Right. Because I already don’t do that with you in my life.”

Instant regret the moment the words left your mouth. Why did you say that? All it would do is stir up drama and start the day off negatively.

The smile he wore faded, and for a second, guilt tugged at your heart. “Alright, I get it,” he threw his hands up in defense. “You hate me. Don’t gotta rub it in my face every time you see me, though.”

You muttered incoherent nonsense under your breath. “Feels like I have a right to,” you said. All of a sudden, keeping his gaze seemed impossible. How was it that playful teasing could turn sour so quickly?

“You do,” he nodded, “but you’re also gonna have to suck it up, cause you’re stuck with me the entire year.”

He was right, as much as you hated to acknowledge that. His attention lingered on you, taking in the frown that tugged at your lips, how your face had matured over the years, the way your haircut suited you perfectly. Thomas hated how you made his heart flutter. You shouldn’t make him feel anything other than rage, and yet? He still became flustered at the sight of you.

“Thomas, you—you really hurt me, y’know that?” You started, finally pulling your focus back to him. “I would’ve done anything for you. I would’ve lost a leg or walked through fire if you asked me to. So I think I’m entitled to being a little bitter when you’re around.”

He stared at you, digesting what you dropped on him in silence. Slowly, he nodded, an unreadable expression twisting on his features. Right as he opened his mouth to speak, the bell rang, and the chatter of students filled the hall. He glanced up, then took a step back.

“Saved by the bell,” he murmured, looking at you one last time before exiting.

A breath you didn’t know you were holding was released. You thought telling him how he hurt you, maybe even yelling or belittling him would make you feel better, but it didn’t. The weight was still on your shoulders. The pain still loomed over you, haunting the back of your mind, dancing and thriving in the self-pity you felt. What you would give to stop it.

The first wave of students clamored in, and you stood, forcing a smile and a positive attitude. Next door, you heard Thomas welcoming students in, you heard him saying hello to older ones. His stupid, sweet southern drawl being the only voice you could hear over the loudness that teenagers brought in.

You loathed him for it. Or was it that you hated yourself for selectively hearing his voice above all others?

—

The day went by surprisingly fast, and you ended up having a lot of fun. Lafayette and John had the same lunch as you, so they invited you to eat with them while in the teacher workroom. Conversation flowed, inside jokes were built, and you came out of your shell for once. Naturally, you and John teased Lafayette for flirting with you during the first impressions, then three days later getting back with the girl he said he was ‘officially over with.’ They even noted how you seemed more talkative, more expressive once you’ve eased into the friend group a little. You were just happy someone wanted to be your friend.

The students you had were all smart, and the majority of your classes worked well together. Some better than others, but what mattered is that they had fun. Of course, there were those few students that disrupted class with their friends. It was a simple fix. By the end of the day, you were exhausted, and it didn’t help knowing you had a full week ahead. More lesson plans to create. More time spent working with Jefferson.

“There she is!” An energetic Hamilton barreled through the door. He was practically bouncing off the walls from how lively he was. It astounded you how he was so cheerful after an entire day of working.

“Hi, Alex.” The best you could offer was a lethargic smile. “Good day, I presume?”

“Great day,” he corrected. “All of my classes were perfect. Well, except one, but they were still good!” He slid atop your desk once more, his smile never faltering. “So.”

“So?” You raised a brow.

“How was it?” His hands went to grip the edge of the desk.

“Good. Tiring, but I had fun. Nobody got hurt, so that’s a win in my book. Went over the syllabus, class procedures, the works, but I didn’t want the first day to be that boring, so we had them choose a song or artist that represents them. One kid said Sexyback. I still don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Kids never fail to disappoint me,” He chuckled.

“I know. When I read it I just started laughing. I think that one was my favorite, and the kid that wrote he’s the reincarnation of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.” You reached for the stack of notecards that students turned in, flipping through them. Honorable mention for whoever put Life in the Fast Lane.

“Good for both of them. I wish I were that confident.”

“Right? They know their worth. I gotta respect it,” you said, shoving the cards back in the turn-in box.

“Honestly,” he hummed. He contemplated his next words, fidgeting with a stray pen on your desk. “Any trouble from Jefferson?”

“Nothing more than usual,” you shrugged. “He brought me coffee this morning.”

Alexander’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Really? What did he want?”

“I don’t know, he never told me why he brought me it. He never asked me for anything either, so maybe he just bought an extra by accident,” you reasoned. Which it didn’t add up in your mind, because how could he buy an extra that just so happened to be the exact kind of coffee you drink?

“Huh,” his eyebrows creased, “that’s odd. One would assume he would give it to Madison before anyone else…”

Even though you didn’t want it to, a knot of jealousy twisted in your stomach. “Who’s Madison?” You asked, trying to keep your tone as level as possible.

“Someone from the math team Jefferson is best friends with.” A tight scowl overtook his features. “Madison and I used to get along, too, until Jeffershit came around.”

It shouldn’t hurt so much to hear Thomas was “best friends” with some girl named Madison. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt at all?

“Yeah? So Thomas really does ruin everything, huh?” You laughed, trying to act as if you weren’t crushed by the possibility of Thomas finding someone new.

You knew that Thomas was bad for you, that you wouldn’t get along ever again, but the thought of him having someone else he’d share everything with, someone he’d laugh and have inside jokes with…it sucked. That was the only way you could classify it. A sick, selfish side wanted him to still be stuck on you; for him to think your name first when someone talked about close friends. But you knew better than to give in to the toxicity.

“God, don’t even get me started,” he groaned. “Seriously. Because you and I both know that once I get going, I don’t stop.”

An airy laugh escaped you, and his bright, enthusiastic smile returned. Thomas was often the topic of discussion between you and Alex, mostly when you felt like talking shit about someone, but right now you wanted to do anything but think about him. It seemed like all your thoughts revolved around Thomas Jefferson. His small action of bringing you coffee, joking around with him, why his cologne smelt so good, the way his shirt hugged his muscles—by the way, when did his muscles become so defined? And why did you find yourself staring at them so often?

“Anyway, you’re starting To Kill A Mockingbird soon with your classes, right?” He asked. “It’s one of my favorites. I wish I could read it with my classes, but with them being seniors, I really can’t,” he shook his head, a disappointed sigh leaving him.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite too, but for now we’re just reviewing and setting up for the year. I’m gonna try and convince Jefferson to start it next week instead of the week after—although maybe I should be a little nicer for that to work…” you trailed off, grimacing at the thought.

“Convince me of what?” Thomas jumped in, standing in the doorway all casual.

Alex stared at him, scrunching his nose in distaste. “This is the second time you’ve done this today, Jefferson.”

Thomas shrugged. “I heard my name. Can’t blame me for bein’ curious.”

Hamilton scoffed, “go be curious somewhere else. We don’t want you here.“

“Believe me, Hamilton, the last place I want to be is in a room with you. ’nd now you’ve infected L/n with your idiocy. This ain’t exactly the ideal environment for me.” He retorted, unamused.

“You could resign. No one’s forcing you to work here,” Alex suggested, smugness evident in his tone. Annoyance flickered in Thomas’s jaw.

“Okay, Alex,” you chuckled nervously, shooting him a look as if to say cut it out. “I was wondering if we could move reading Mockingbird to next week instead.” Alex seemed to have gotten the hint that you needed to be on Jefferson’s good side in order for him to comply.

“Hm. I dunno… you wanna tell me how smart, handsome, amazing, and charming I am?” A sly grin grew on his lips.

“I’m not gonna kiss your ass, Jefferson,” you deadpanned. So much for getting him on your side. You’d rather die than admit those things.

“Well then, I guess we’re not movin’ it a week closer. Your loss, Y/n,” he hummed. The sudden feminine urge to throw your computer at him was overwhelming.

“Oh, c’mon, d’you seriously wanna work on mindless review for two weeks?”

“I don’t mind doing so,” he took some steps toward your desk. “Most of ‘em don’t even remember the difference between a compound and complex sentence, much less how to write an essay or basic punctuation. This’ll set ‘em up for a good year.”

You couldn’t disagree with him. A lot of your past students did struggle with grammar for whatever reason, and maybe a couple weeks to review everything they lost due to summer wouldn’t hurt. “But they aren’t stupid. Most of them are honors students, it shouldn’t take two weeks to review the basics.”

“Mm, you’re right,” he frowned, shifting his watch to Hamilton for a brief moment. “But I still think we should stick with what I’ve done every year I’ve been here. My students have always had the best test scores in the district, after all.”

The not-so-humble bragging only furthered your irritation with his intransigence.

“Oh, that’s crap, Jefferson. Every other school is twice as small, and their funding is significantly less. We’re the biggest school in this district, we dominate in sports, UIL, and scores for every subject,” Alex chimed in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“Uh, was anybody speakin’ to you, Hamilton?” He huffed. “I swear, you don’t know when to stop talking.”

“That is kind of true,“ you mumbled. Alex elbowed your arm, giving you a pointed look.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he pouted.

You gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But to be fair, you said it yourself earlier. ‘Once I get going, I don’t stop.’” Upon hearing his words echoed back to him, he groaned.

“See? Even Y/n agrees. But unless she agrees that I am the most gorgeous, intelligent, dashingly attractive man she’s ever met—“

“Go fuck yourself,” you interrupted, a bitter laugh escaping your chest. “We can just stick to your plan since you want to be such an ass.”

How badly you wanted to erase the smug grin that reached his eyes. “‘M not bein’ an ass, ‘m just bein’ a smart planner. You’ll thank me later, L/n.”

You sighed. This was gonna be a long year.

High and Dry | ch. 2

thomas j. x reader

Warnings: swearing, overuse of italics, title drop (shit was NOT tough at all pls don’t judge me too hard)

Wc: 2.7k

Holy moly this took longer than expected

EDIT: LESLIE ODOM JR RETURNING TO HAMILTON??? HELLO??!????

Out of everyone Thomas anticipated to be working with, you were the last on his list. He didn’t think he’d ever see you again after what happened in high school.

He had been best friends with you since birth, two peas in a pod. You did everything together: lost your first tooth, the awkward middle school phase, and the first steps into high school. Where one was, the other wasn't far behind. Near the end of junior year, he had a promising chance at a scholarship for a prestigious university. It’s not like he needed the money anyway, he was already filthy rich and took yearly trips to Paris for fun.

So it was only natural you were jealous of him. At least, that’s how he perceived it. To him, you envied his wealth and intelligence, always making snide remarks or rolling your eyes when he’d talk about being future Valedictorian. It got to a point where he snapped. He ignored you for days. And when you called him out on his chickenshit behavior, he proceeded to list out every reason why you shouldn’t be friends anymore, and ended the most valuable friendship you’ve ever had.

After breaking connections with you, rumors began to spread. There were some smaller ones, like you sleeping together, but that died down pretty quickly. Those were unimportant, everyone knew they were untrue. The biggest one is that you intentionally tried to ruin his chances at the scholarship. His then-girlfriend had told him you reported him for academic dishonesty in all of his work.

Which you didn’t, by the way. But he was convinced you did. He decided to trust someone he’d known for only a few months compared to the person he’s been attached at the hip to since diapers. It’s not like they stayed together, either. Two months later they called it quits. Something about her cheating on him with the Basketball captain. Once he successfully got half the grade turned on you, he randomly packed up and left for France—for good this time. He abandoned you in a difficult situation which you couldn’t do shit about; he left you high and dry.

It broke you.

He was supposed to be the one who helped you when times were rough, not the one who brought you down. And yet he did. He betrayed any ounce of trust you had, and you endured a year-and-a-half of whispers and stares in the hallway, lingering eyes, and petty comments.

“I can’t believe it’s him, of all people,” you groaned.

Alex gave you a sympathetic look, putting down the papers he had in his hands. You told him what happened to an extent. He would never know the full story, mostly because you’re bad at opening up and you’ve only just met him yesterday, but he was aware there was bad blood between you and Jefferson.

“He didn’t even want to be an English teacher! He wanted to be a lawyer! So why is he here?” A huff escaped your chest, built up from years of undiscussed trauma.

“I’ve been asking that for years, trust me. Waltzing in like he owns the place and stealing my friends,” he scoffed.

“God—how did I not realize… I should’ve known he would be out to get me. One final ‘fuck you’ by being my partner for the entire year.” You shook your head, a defeated slump in your shoulders.

“He doesn’t have to win this battle, y’know,” Alex hummed. You quirked an eyebrow, signaling for him to go on. “Just be petty, he hates that. He’s pretty obsessed with this one specific parking spot—the one under the tree. Where there’s the most shade,” his eye twitched, “I’d know because I parked there one time, and the whole day he was after me. The next morning, he was there 30 minutes earlier than normal.”

“Sounds like something he’d do,” you nodded. “That parking spot will be mine. I will do literally anything if it means pissing off a man.”

A devilish grin spread on Alexander’s face. “I’m so glad you hate him as much as I do, if not more. I swear, he’s been terrorizing this school for years. It’s about time he gets what’s coming!”

“I don’t even know how I’m gonna be able to talk to him every day. Let alone look at him. And why is it required for us to collaborate on lesson plans? That’s so stupid,” you grunted, rolling your eyes.

“I know, I’m not happy about it either,” he empathized with the struggle, “but it’s because you’re both Honors English teachers, and all freshmen are supposed to be learning the same thing. Prepare for state testing and whatnot.”

You grumbled under your breath about how stupid it was. For another 20 minutes or so, you went back and forth about stories regarding Jefferson. Spoiler: none of them were good. It’s like somehow your mind blanked, and you couldn’t think of a single positive experience with Thomas. Between you and Hamilton, he was a symbol of evil, something you could bond over. Was your friendship entirely fueled by hatred? No, of course not. But it was a strong part of it.

Although something about being unjust to Thomas because of the past struck you as immoral.

There was a side of you screaming to forgive and forget, but with everything going on in your life, how could you? It seemed like every relationship you had was fucked. You’d barely speak to your mother, only when the ward called, and you had basically no friends (Hamilton is still under examination.)

But there’s nothing like the taste of sweet sweet revenge, right?

—

“She’s still pissed about it, James. It’s been years, I don’t know why she hasn’t gotten over it yet,” Thomas scrunched his nose in disgust, a scowl creeping on his face as he laminated posters for James Madison’s classroom.

“That sucks, man. You talk to her today at all?” James went through the repetitive motion of cutting excess laminated paper, listening to Jefferson talk about you.

“Hell no. She won’t even look in my direction when I pass by her. If she wants to be immature—“ Thomas drew in a sharp, frustrated breath. “She can go ahead. I’m perfectly fine bein’ the bigger person.”

James coughed before nodding in agreement. “Don’t let her stop you from having a good year,” he warned. “She’ll come around eventually.”

“Yeah, well she doesn’t seem too keen on forgiveness anytime soon,” Thomas scoffed, “I don’t think she ever will.”

There was a long falter in his motions. The longer he thought about it, about you, the guiltier he felt. Despite the desperate attempts in trying to convince himself he wasn’t wrong, wasn't a bad person, he still felt immense shame when you popped in his mind. He hurt you. He knew that. But he moved to France and forced himself to forget about you. Facing you was a whole other dilemma; all it did was resurface the shrouds of guilt that haunted him in Junior year.

By the time college rolled around, the remorse had controlled itself, only manifesting in the back of his mind when he said anything fucked up. But he didn’t plan on seeing you again, no.

“You just have to give her time. Women will be dramatic, Thomas, we both know that,” James laughed a little.

Jefferson let out an uncomfortable chuckle, going back to the mundane task of helping Madison make posters. He hated the statement of you being some dramatic woman when he knew you were so much more than that. He wanted to scream at James for even suggesting that. Against every ounce of anger he felt, he missed you. He missed the adventures you’d go on, he longed for the sound of your laughter again, to see you smile because of him rather than someone else.

He missed his best friend.

And here you were, the nerdy girl who wore bulky sweatshirts, all grown up. He couldn’t deny how beautiful you matured. It wasn’t weird to think that; it was a simple observation. You’re attractive, nothing wrong with him acknowledging it. That doesn’t mean he has to automatically like you.

“I suppose,” he sighed. “She’s gettin’ all buddy-buddy with Hamilton, though. Not too excited about that. Hamilton is a shit influence.”

“True. I bet he’s gonna manipulate her into believing you’re the most horrible, evil villain ever.”

“She already does,” Thomas barked out a bitter laugh. “He doesn’t have to do anythin’.”

“But he will.” James gave him a pointed look.

Thomas’s lips quirked downwards. “Yeah. He will.”

—

The door to your classroom flung open, and a mildly pissed-off Jefferson walked in. He gripped his bag so tightly his veins strained, and the coffee he held looked like it would burst at any second.

“We have to make lesson plans for the week,” he grumbled, setting his bag down and taking out his laptop.

You quirked an eyebrow, examining his actions of pulling up a chair next to your desk. “And we have to do this together…? Right now?”

“Yes. Right now,” he said through gritted teeth. His jaw clenched as he opened his laptop.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. He was acting all pissy for no reason, and you were having a rather pleasant morning, having snagged a parking spot in the shade. You even treated yourself to an iced coffee. “What crawled up your ass?”

“Someone took my spot, that’s what crawled up my ass,” he spat.

“What, the one under the tree?” You smirked. His eyes immediately snapped to yours. A sickening grin spread further across your features, relishing in his anger from one simple action. He narrowed his eyes, scanning your appearance at how much you changed in the time not spent together.

His nostrils flared. “You must’ve gotten here early to steal that from me. Already tryin’ to piss me off, L/n?”

“Bold of you to assume I care that much about you.”

Thomas couldn’t deny the slight sting that went with your words. He stiffened, irritation bubbling in his chest. “You’re right, we both know you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“Yeah? Is that why you destroyed my reputation then left me for France?” You cocked your head to the side.

Thomas winced at the memory, hating the fact you were still stuck on it. An exhausted sigh left him, and he ran a hand over his face. He knew anything he said wouldn’t make it right. Healing is a gradual process. You both knew that. So why is it that after years of what he thought was healing, it still pained him to think about it?

“That was years ago,” he mumbled, “do you have to bring it up now?”

“Figured I might put it out there,” you shrugged, not entirely satisfied with his poor response.

Thomas pursed his lips, fixing his gaze on the screen before him. He didn’t want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. It would hurt less to pretend like it never happened and move on. A long, tense silence filled the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife. He slumped in his chair, an uncomfortable frown stuck on his face. “We need to be workin’, not arguing.”

You stared at him a moment longer. Was he seriously brushing this off? Was he for real about to ignore the years of pain and suffering you went through because of him?

“Whatever,” you grunted. There was no point in trying to fight him on this. You knew how stubborn and defensive he could be. “What do you normally do for your students at the beginning of the year? I can’t imagine it’s anything fun.”

He leaned back in the crappy plastic chair, rolling his eyes at your petty comment. “I go over the rules, and usually have them write about themselves from a prompt.”

A thin line formed on your lips. “You give them work on the first day? Asshole…” you grumbled.

“Fuck off, they get rowdy if we play games,” he laughed airily. For a split second, it felt good to hear the sound of his laughter again. Then you remembered why you hadn’t heard it in so long.

“Rowdy because they’re having fun,” you gave him a pointed look. “It never hurt anyone to feel joy once in a while. You should try it sometime.” A wide, teasing smirk grew on your face again.

Thomas so desperately wanted to wipe that smugness off your pretty little face. “Have you ever been told how insufferable you are?”

“Only by you, Thomas, only by you.” You batted your eyelashes in a mocking way, leaning forward to rest your chin in your hands. A flicker of amusement flashed in Thomas’s eyes, and a slow grin spread on his lips. For some odd reason, it made your stomach flutter.

“I’m just sayin’ what the rest of the world is thinking,” he teased. The familiarity of his southern accent brought a wave of nostalgia with it.

“Funny,” you scoffed.

“Awh, no more witty comments?” He tilted his head, an innocent expression on his face.

You raised your eyebrows, not amused by his antics. “You are such a dick, Jefferson. Thought I might remind you of that.” You said, tone flat with a hint of teasing.

He feigned hurt, pressing a hand to his chest. “How dare you, L/n. I am a saint.”

You rolled your eyes. Something was so familiar about the back and forth, playful banter. For a moment it felt like nothing was wrong, it felt like when he was still the first person you’d go to with good news.

“Congratulations for being the first and only person to think that.”

He bit back a chuckle, finding his eyes wandering over you rather than focused on the amount of work he needed to get done. “No need to be jealous because I’m beloved by everyone.”

“‘Beloved’ is an interesting choice,” you mumbled, pulling up some past lesson plans to reference.

“I think it’s an appropriate descriptor for me. That and dashingly handsome,” he snickered. Getting on your nerves was proving to be a success.

“Oh yes, because you’re the epitome of charisma and charm.” A mocking snarl went with your reply. Thomas seemed to be thriving at all the arguing, something that only pissed you off more. Weren’t you supposed to be working on lesson plans?

“I’m glad you finally noticed.”

You scoffed, about to tell him how you’d rather die than classify him as charming, but your phone rang, interrupting your thoughts. A sigh left your lips when you checked the caller ID. It was your mom’s psychiatric ward.

“I have to take this,” you muttered, standing and walking to the hallway for privacy.

Thomas held a concerned frown. He hadn’t seen who the caller was, but he knew it must’ve been something important. Having grown up with you, he met your bipolar mother multiple times, and he knew the troubles that went with it. He witnessed firsthand the pain she caused you, the trauma from her episodes reflecting upon you. And he was there for you throughout it all. So he wasn't at all surprised when he heard the word “mom” come out in a distressed tone.

A couple minutes later, you entered again, silently slipping into your seat. Your whole demeanor changed. What once was feisty was now solemn, as if life had been drained from you, leaving an empty shell of a human. It bothered him, but he knew the best bet was to leave you be, even as much as he wanted to ask what happened. You weren’t on those friendly terms anymore. He didn’t get to comfort you or know anything happening in your life.

Besides, one of the last things you said to him when you split up was “I hope you have a great, successful life, and I hope I never have to hear anything about it.”

The silence was deafening.

It was always, always silent in your life.

The silence that came after hearing Thomas talk shit about you for the first time. The silence that came after not getting to explain your side in an argument. The silence of no one understanding what you’re going through, and the one person you had decided his life would be better without you in it. And what could you do other than play along? Put on a facade of rivalry, go-with-the-flow mentality and tough it out?

The silence was killing you. It would’ve been better if he said something. Anything. Even if it meant aggravating you.

And yet he sat there, motionless, wordless, silent; leaving you wondering what he was thinking.

Ok SO I need y’all’s opinion (like the two people that will see this)

If you read my last fic, could you PLEASSEEEE give me some feedback or constructive criticism on how to improve my writing?

Like even if it’s just things you wished you saw more of (for example: longer dialogue, longer chapters, more personality for reader/characters, stronger storyline etc.) anything would help!!

If you wanna put it in the comments or dm me that would be very much appreciated 🫶

Come back the kids miss you💔💔

BROO I don’t know what to writtteee 😭😭 anybody got ideas PLEAS

When are you gonna do a night to remember? I love that fic😭😭

It was on my mind this week but I want to get another chapter of high and dry out before I work on anything for ANTR 🫶 and tysm that means a lot💕

Your skibidi.

You’re*

Thanks sigma 😛😛

Hey, roomie! Ch. 4

thomas j. x reader

Thomas invites his friends over, and after a heated argument, Peggy suggests an emotion you didn’t think plausible.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: some cussin’, Lafayette being lafayette

bro why can I not write anything over 3k words wth 😭😭

“I’m gonna have some friends over tonight,” Thomas states, peeking his head into your room. You looked up from the book you were reading, Can’t Hurt Me, and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, how many friends?” You asked.

“Only two. They’re nice, I swear,” he reassures after observing the weary look on your face. You let out a small huff when he ultimately shuts the door before you can get another word in.

Things have been different since that night you helped treat his wound. He’s been softer, more careful with his words. He would still flirt shamelessly with you, but the tone in which he did so changed. It went from just spewing out the first words that came to mind to carefully crafted compliments, each one specific to the day. Like when he pointed out how the navy blue sweater you wore matched your personality. An odd thing for him to say, but you thanked him nonetheless.

The shift was very subtle. You had to search for it to notice it (not that you were paying more attention to him or anything, haha), and when you did, you found it in almost every conversation. His hand is almost fully healed now, but he’d likely have a scar when the bandage finally comes off.

You finished your chapter and picked up your phone to check your messages. Peggy had been asking about plans for the weekend, which you still had to get back to her about.

Peggy: we still on for sunday?

You: u know it ;)

She’s been asking for weeks now to go shopping with her for some new clothes, and you’ve been putting it off. Mostly because you don’t have enough money, partially because shopping isn’t really your favorite thing to do, but you know she loves it, so for this one time you’ll suck it up and go with her.

An hour passes by and before you know it, Thomas’s friends occupy the living room. The distinct chatter of an unfamiliar voice wasn’t suppressed from the thin walls that separated your room from the living room.

You endured it at first, but as the night progressed, they just seemed to get louder and louder. A part of you wanted to scream at them to shut up, but you knew that wasn't logical, so you settled on walking out and calmly asking them to tone it down.

When you entered, Thomas immediately lit up at the sight of you, looking ecstatic to introduce you to his friends.

“Y/n! Nice of you to join us,” he laughs, pulling you towards the group before you can protest. That might’ve been the first time you’ve heard him use your name.

“Y/n?” A familiar French voice echoed. Your eyes darted to the source—Lafayette. He was someone you were well acquainted with; with him being close to Alexander and the sisters, you connected through that.

You’ve hung out before with Alexander’s group—John Laurens, Lafayette of course, Hercules Mulligan, and occasionally the sisters. You found him to be quite the charmer; he knew when to fight and when to comfort another soul, which you seriously respect.

“Lafayette! I didn’t know you were coming over.” There was a pleasant surprise that came with this statement. A smile curved on your lips as you moved to give him a hug. The other men, one of them who you did not yet know the name of, watched as you reunited with Lafayette.

“Zis is a surprise to me too, mon ami. When he said he was rooming with Y/n I didn’t realize it was you.” He pulled away from you but kept an arm on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, how do you two know each other?” Thomas cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced between you and Lafayette. More specifically to Laf’s hand placement.

“Mutual friends, but we’ve been hanging out more,” you reply. He nods, an indiscernible look on his face.

Your eyes caught the dark headed man who sat idly on the couch, a quiet demeanor about him. He wore a light gray Nike sweater with basic blue jeans, and a simple dog tag necklace. Despite his easily observable introvertism, he held himself with confidence. Almost like he knew he was a hard motherfucker. He had amusement in his eyes when they caught yours.

“…Anyway, this is James. James, this is Y/n,” Thomas said. You smiled and stuck out your hand for him to shake.

“Pleasure to meet you.” James grinned politely.

“Always nice to meet people who identify closely with Thomas,” you teased. Jefferson rolled his eyes.

“We’ve heard a lot about you, ami,” Lafayette snickers, a mischievous smile curled on his face. Thomas shoots him a look as if to tell him to quiet down, but your interest was already piqued. And Lafayette isn’t one to quit talking because someone wants him to.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You raise an eyebrow and turn to Thomas.

“Just about ’ow p—“

“—Not important,” Thomas cuts Lafayette off, scrambling between you. “Just how fun you are to annoy.”

“And how smart you are,” James speaks up. Your eyebrows fly up in shock. Thomas thinks you’re smart?

“Okay, I only said that because she’s able to keep up with me verbally,” he defends. A scowl is directed to James for betraying him. Madison puts up his hands in defense and chuckles. Thomas can keep his composure, but even you could see the frantic shift in personality.

“Not what it sounded like,” Lafayette said in a sing-song voice. You stifled a giggle, causing Thomas to direct a glare at you now.

“Don’t laugh at me, sweetheart, can’t you see I’m hurtin’ here?” He groans.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you think I’m smart and whatever Laf was gonna say before you so rudely interrupted him.” A playful smile adorns your face.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he grumbles, averting his eyes from you.

“You should join us,” Laf offers, diminishing any awkward silence that followed Thomas’s last comment. Thank god for outgoing people.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude. I just came here to,” you pause, remembering you came here to tell them off, “get a glass of water.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding, ami! Your presence is always welcome,” he reassures, putting a gentle grip on your shoulder. Your features soften and you weigh your options. If the other two were okay with it, then maybe you would stick around for a little while, but you don’t want to overstay boys’ night. “Ze boys don’t mind, right boys?” Lafayette turns to Thomas and James with a pout on his face.

“Thomas wouldn’t mind at a—ow!” James starts but Thomas smacks the back of his head.

“No, we don’t mind,” Thomas says.

“Wonderful! You can drink and play Wii sports with us, then,” Lafayette cheers. Thomas’s eyes flicker to the hand that stayed firmly on your shoulder, yet he remains silent.

—

It didn’t take long for you to get tipsy. They kept enticing you to drink as the night progressed, and after so many rounds of Wii bowling, you needed it.

In all your time spent knowing Lafayette, he never mentioned that he is a god at sword fighting. You considered yourself pretty good at that game, but almost immediately after playing against him, he had your Mii wiped out into the water. He demolished Thomas and James as well, and eventually you ruled that game off limits because he was so cracked at it.

James, quiet as he is, somehow managed to get four hole-in-ones at golf. Maybe he practiced often, or maybe he was just fucking weird, but that man was freakishly good at golf.

Thomas was bragging earlier about how he was the ‘King of Bowling.’ After playing against him for a few rounds, you realized why. The strikes he managed to cultivate piled up, at one point he had a streak going. After each bowl he would rub it in your face how much better he is, to which you kindly suggested that he suck a dick.

You, on the other hand, vanquished them in power cruising and table tennis. Basically, whatever they lacked in, you came out victorious. You found yourself having more fun than you thought you would, especially since it was Thomas you were hanging out with. James wasn't bad, in fact, under any other circumstances you would consider being his friend. Lafayette was great as always, and you stuck close to him throughout the night.

After playing every possible Wii Sports Resort game, you sat in the living room just chatting.

Thomas was across from you with James next to him, and you sat leg-to-leg with Laf. He kept an arm draped around your shoulder in a friendly manner. The conversation darted from one topic to the next, but currently the main idea was college stories.

“What about that time you got pepper sprayed in college?” James asked Thomas, a devilish smirk on his face. You let out a gasp and Lafayette started laughing loudly.

“Okay—it’s not what it sounds like,” he addresses your signal of distress, “I was walking to a frat party and using a shortcut which happened to be through the bushes, so when I emerged she screamed and immediately pepper sprayed me.” He elucidates.

A wave of laughter swept over the group, and your stomach started hurting the more he tried to explain himself. You know he's not a bad guy and wouldn’t do anything like that, but the stressed tone and look on his face was too much to not laugh at.

“Didn’t she have to help you find the bathroom so you could wash your eyes?” James said through fits of giggles.

“How else was I supposed to find it? I was blinded for fucks sake!” He groans, throwing his head back.

This recalling led Lafayette to go on about how he got beer thrown at him in a bar. “All I’m saying is I wasn't wrong, his political views of France were incorrect and I politely pointed that out.” His French accent seeped through his words.

You giggled, leaning into his chest as his arm tightened around you. You didn’t catch the way Thomas’s jaw clenched.

“Must’ve been not polite enough if you got beer thrown at you,” you said with a smug grin. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“What I said was not important, okay?”

“Sure, sure, because you’re never in the wrong ever. Like that one time with Alex when you were playing rock paper scissors and lost but—“

“I did not lose! What is paper going to do to a rock in a real life situation, huh? Ze rock will grind up ze paper and therefore I win!” He cuts you off to loudly defend his stupidity.

“That’s not how it works!” You laugh, pushing him playfully. James was watching this whole ordeal with amusement, a wide grin on his face.

“Okay, uh, it’s getting late guys. How about we call it a night?” Thomas chimes in, checking his phone.

“It’s only 10:32,” you reply with furrowed eyebrows. He swallows thickly, seeming like he just bit back venomous words.

“Non, non, he is right chérie. We should be leaving,” Lafayette assured you. He seemed to be picking up the hint that Thomas was not happy, and when he realized he still had his arm around you, he pulled it off. Lafayette and James stood, saying their goodbyes before leaving.

“Dude. Why did you make them leave early? We were having fun,” you huff. A muscle flickered in Thomas’s jaw.

“Just ‘cause, okay? Don’t push it, god,” he snaps. You stare at him, anger building up in your stomach, waiting to be released.

“The fuck? What crawled up your ass?”

“Jesus—can you just accept the fact that we’re all tired and it was time for them to go? Why do you have to keep instigating shit?” He erupted. Your eyes widen in shock and your mouth hangs open until you regain composure.

“No, you’re tired. Lafayette, James and I were fine. Great, even! Til you fucking decided that it has to end because you want it to!” You accused, pointing a finger and shoving it into his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he said calmly, his voice low. The switch from shouting to stillness in his voice was violent; it scared you. Your finger dropped from his chest and you took a step back. “Let’s end it here and go to sleep. Goodnight.”

And with that, he left. He left you wondering what got him so riled up. And the way he said ‘sweetheart’ was cold, it didn’t send that fluttery feeling into your stomach like it normally does. It was harsh. You wanted to scream at him and run in and fight him; but you didn’t.

You sighed angrily and retreated to your room, fists still clenched with resentment.

—

“I don’t know why he’s acting this way, Peggy. He was actually being sweet to me, but it seems like the moment I met his friends, he switched up.” You complained to your friend, hauling around the bags of clothes she bought.

“How was he yesterday? Usually men just need some space to cool down after an argument like that,” She said. The ordeal happened Friday night, and you were shopping with Peggy on Sunday. On Saturday, he did his best to avoid you, ignoring you when in the same room and responding in short, one word answers.

“He’s been cold. Distant. Yesterday he gave me the silent treatment,” you scoffed. “Like seriously, what is he, twelve? Since when was he incapable of having adult conversations and talking things out?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He could still be processing his thoughts, and it might be a lot for him to try and process yours, too. Let alone voice his in a convo.” She suggests.

This was another reason you love Peggy so much. She always challenged your words like a true friend would. She didn’t just mindlessly agree to everything you were saying, no, she forced you to think about your words or actions and reflect. She really did make you a better person just by being in your life.

“Hm. I guess that could be possible. What should I do, then?”

“Give him time. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like he’s jealous, so I would just show him you don’t mean anything more than friendship with Lafayette.” She expands.

“Wait wait wait—what? Jealous?” You stutter, stopping dead in your tracks. Some people walking behind you side eyed you after you brake-checked them.

“Yeah? He sounds like he’s jealous because you’re close with Lafayette. Don’t you like Jefferson, anyway? Why are you so shocked?” She gives you a confused look.

“Whoa, whoa, who said anything about liking Thomas? He is not someone I am attracted to.” You furrow your eyebrows, continuing to walk with a deep frown on your face.

“It seems like you do. You talk about him a lot, I just kinda figured you had a crush on him or something.” She shrugged.

“A crush, ha! You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious. Every time I talk to you, you always somehow bring him up. Oh, Thomas did this, Thomas said that, y’know? It gets to a point…” She trails off.

This genuinely came as a shock to you. It didn’t ever occur that when you complain about Thomas, others might take it the wrong way and assume your attraction for him.

“I can assure you, Thomas is the last person I would ever like,” you say. That's one thing you’re certain of. Right?

When do u think chapter 3 of high and dry is coming out? I LVOE IT SM !! NO RUSH!

THANK YOUU but erm tbh it might be a little bit I have very few ideas ☹️☹️

Wait for it

I AM THE ONE THING IN LIFE I CAN CONTROLLLLL I AM INIMITABLE I AM AN ORIGINALLLLLL

ok seriously I’m working on a soulmate au rn, HOPEFULLY it’ll be out by tonight

oh em gee it’s Friday, HOW WAS UR AP TESTED YO

actually really good, I think I got a 5 but I’ll update y’all when scores come out 😝