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dilly-dahlia · 1 day ago

Note

DROP ANOTHER DANTE ONESHOT AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRRRSSSSSSSSSS HES SO PATHETIC I LOVE HIM

Boy in Love

pairing: Dante x Reader

content: MyStreet season 1, theatre teacher!reader, angst with a happy ending??, reader and Dante met on Tinder, use of y/n, Dante is kind of a red flag tbh...

summary: All your life you'd wanted true love, even more so after you had played countless roles in which your character fell in love with another. And when you finally meet a man and think all is well, you find out he doesn't like musicals.

word count: 5.5k (hello??? i did not realize it was that long)

a/n: ask and you shall receive ofc I will drop another Dante one shot I love that pathetic lovesick fool with everything I have

masterlist

You glanced down at your phone screen again. 7:23, it read.

Dante was almost an hour late. Although, you really shouldn’t have expected much from a guy you met on Tinder, the app you downloaded in a last ditch effort to find a boyfriend. God, you really were desperate.

You had talked to Dante before going on the first date. In fact, this was your third. It was nicer than the two before, as he had planned a reservation at a fancy restaurant for it. But if he went through the trouble of making the reservation and then didn’t show up, was he really serious about this?

Your wine glass had already been emptied and you’d already drank nearly three cups of sweet tea. You still hadn’t ordered a proper meal yet, but you were using the complimentary rolls to hold you over until Dante showed up.

You glanced down at your phone again when it buzzed.

Dante: I am so sorry, I got caught in really bad traffic. I’ll be there in five minutes

You huff out a sigh at the text, rolling your eyes as you picked up your phone and opened the message.

You: It’s okay. I’ll just get another basket of rolls

You turned off your phone and tucked it away. You didn’t want to look at it anymore. You let out another sigh and leaned against the table, your arms crossed.

By the time Dante had waltzed into the restaurant, you had looked through the menu twice and noticed yours was void of prices. Dante stood in the foyer, looking around for you before pointing and saying something to the host. He started towards you and sat in the chair across from yours, his hair tousled from the wind outside.

“I’m so sorry,” he told you again. He’d probably recite his text to you. “I got stuck in terrible traffic. There was a crash on-“

You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you said. “I don’t mind. Stuff happens.”

You gave him a soft smile, which he returned with a small boyish one of his own. It wasn’t long before the waiter approached your table and took your proper orders.

“Do you like the place?” Dante asked as you handed your menu to the waiter. “So far, I mean. I know you haven’t tried it yet.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I like it. The atmosphere is really nice.”

And by that you meant it made you feel extraordinarily poor. Nearly everything was draped in red velvet and the flutes for champagne and wine glasses were made of crystal. There was low lighting, and looking at the other customers alone made your wallet cry. Your teacher salary could only dream of eating at a place like this.

“It’s nice,” you repeated, not knowing what else to say.

Dante smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

You felt out of place in your cheap Amazon sundress, but seeing Dante sit across from you so boyishly (even if he was wearing slacks and a white button up and cuff links) made your nerves ease. You fidgeted with the gold bangle around your wrist, twisting it around as you rolled a thought over in your head.

“I’m, uh,” you began, brushing your hair out of your face. “My students’ musical performances start next week. They’re performing She Loves Me. Maybe you could come to one of the shows? I could let you in for free.”

Dante had lifted the wineglass to his lips, and at your proposal he lowered it. His eyebrows slightly furrowed as he answered. “Oh, uhm, I don’t really do musicals,” he admitted. “Or . . . plays, for that matter.”

“Oh.” Your eyes slightly widened. How did you manage to pick someone that wouldn’t even consider supporting your job? “Oh, that’s alright. I just . . . I thought I’d extend an invitation if you wanted to come.”

You smiled nervously, lifting your own wine glass to your lips in an attempt to hide the flush on your face.

“I appreciate the offer.”

You thanked Irene that the food arrived at that exact moment. It gave you the chance to distract yourself and try to recover from how awkward this date had been so far. The last two weren’t so tense, so why was this one?

“So you’re a theater teacher?” Dante asked, rubbing his jaw.

You nodded, twirling the pasta noodles around your fork. He didn’t know that? You could’ve sworn you told him. Even if you didn’t, you had put it in your Tinder bio. “For high school, yes. I teach at Phoenix Drop High.”

Dante hummed in response and said, “I went to school there,” but didn’t offer anything else . You felt awkward just letting the tension in the air thicken, so you cleared your throat and kept talking.

“It was one of the only things I ever wanted to be. I was a theater kid in school, so it always interested me.”

“Were you a weird one?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” you replied, thinking back. You never really did anything embarrassing. “No, not really. I just really liked it.”

Dante didn’t say anything else and neither did you. An uncomfortable silence enveloped the two of you as your forks clanked against your dishes.

The rest of the date consisted of the odd statement and curt response every couple minutes. The two of you couldn’t seem to fall into any sort of conversation, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when the waiter gave you a pitying look as he refilled your wine glasses. Dante requested the check, and it was a moment more before the waiter placed a small black book on Dante’s side of the table. You reached for it, but Dante pulled it away from your grasp before you could.

“I can pay for half,” you said, meeting his gaze.

He shook his head, pulling his wallet from his pocket and pulled out his card. “I can pay. I arrived late, so it’s the least I can do. Besides, this restaurant doesn’t let the woman pay if she’s on a date.”

He smiled at you, which you returned. So that’s why your menu didn’t have prices. Maybe he was serious about this. You couldn’t fathom another reason he would bring you here.

You followed Dante out once he had paid, shrugging on your coat before stepping outside.

“Could I give you a ride home?” he asked. He had fallen into step with you.

“I would love if you did, but my car is here,” you softly said. “And I have to be at work early tomorrow, so I can’t leave it.”

“I’ll walk you to your car, then.”

You smiled, glancing down at your feet. “Okay.”

So he followed you to your car, making sure to stay close to you. You started your car once you reached it, and stood with Dante until he bid you farewell.

“Can I take you out again tomorrow?” he asked. He gave you another of his shy, boyish smiles and leaned against your car. “Not somewhere as nice as this, just . . . Out. Wherever you want.”

You softly exhaled, thinking about your schedule. You were almost completely booked for the next two and a half weeks.

“I can’t,” you said. You exhaled, shifting your weight so you faced him more head on. “It’s tech week and we have to finish the set. I’m at the high school until eight tomorrow. The only reason I could go on this date is because it’s Wednesday.”

You forced yourself to chuckle, something to try and lighten the tense air that was still between the two of you. It didn’t work though, and your strained laughter dried out. Dante rapped his fingers against the roof of your car.

“I’ll text you, then? And we can plan another date?” You nodded. Dante grabbed your hand, his own warm compared to your cold one, and pressed his lips against your knuckles. You smiled, gently squeezing his hand. “I’ll see you?”

You laughed. “Yes, Dante. You will.”

He gave you another boyish smile—you were really staring to love that smile—and leaned forward to brush a kiss to your cheek. He let go of your hand to open your car door for you and blew you a kiss once you had started driving away.

The car ride back to your apartment was quiet. You didn’t listen to music and chose to wallow in your own thoughts.

Dante didn’t like musicals. Or plays. It wouldn’t have been a problem, and if anyone else had told you that you would’ve shrugged it off, but musicals and plays were quite literally your life. You been interested in it since you were little, and even if you became a theatre teacher instead of a big shot actress, you still poured your heart and soul into the program at Phoenix Drop High. Your job meant something to you—your students meant something to you.

Could you really be with someone that didn’t like that?

—

“Heads!”

The chorus of voices rang out as the cyc was slowly lowered. You watched as it was, making sure there wasn’t a stray student beneath it before it was secured against the ground.

You were clicking the tip of your pen, inspecting the set from your seat in the audience. Something was off, but you couldn’t figure out what.

“Levin!” you called. It was a moment before the blond’s head popped out from behind one of the fake buildings on stage. You motioned him over. “And Malachi,” you added.

It wasn’t long before the pair of brother’s stood before you. You pointed behind them at the outside set. “What’s missing?”

Malachi and Levin were your stage hands. They were the ones to ask questions to when you weren’t available and they consulted on nearly every choice for the show.

Not to mention they had an eye for design.

“That one’s too dark,” Malachi said, pointing to the building that sat downstage right. You hummed, considering his words.

He was right. The navy blue walls paired with the chocolate brown trim clashed with the rest of the brightly painted set. It stood out too much. The main focus in the outside set was meant to be the parfumerie.

“Maybe a lighter blue would work?” Levin suggested, turning back to you.

“Maraczek’s is already light blue,” you mused, tapping the tip of the pen to your lips. “See if we have any more of that pastel yellow and swatch it.”

The boys nodded before bounding back onto the stage, disappearing behind the cyc and fake buildings. You were just about to turn back to the script in your hand to make a few final edits when you heard your name.

“Miss L/n!” You lifted your gaze. Leona, a little freshman that often hid her werewolf ears and tail, ran across the stage. “Miss L/n, there’s someone by the red door looking for you.”

Your brows furrowed. You exhaled, setting the open script in your lap down on the music stand in front of you before standing up. You had to use one of the side entrances to get backstage, since the small sets of stairs that were typically at the stage’s edge had been moved. Leona met you in the wing and followed behind you to the door. You pushed it open, confused at the sight of a Domino’s delivery man.

“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door. The sun was just beginning to set and a crisp chill had entered the air.

“For”—the delivery man looked down at the box in his hand—“Y/n?”

You nodded. “That’s me.”

He handed you the box, which you carefully took. You opened your mouth to further question him, but he only said, “It’s already been paid for so don’t worry ‘bout that,” before walking away.

You stood in the open door, baffled. You watched as the delivery man started his car and drove out of the student parking lot, more confused than you had ever been.

“What was that?” Leona chirped, standing on her tiptoes to look over your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” you replied. You finally stepped back into the auditorium, the red door closing loudly behind you. You looked down at the box and opened it. “Oh.”

There was a note stuck to the inside of the lid. Chicken scratch spelled out a short note that made the corners of your lips pull up.

I thought I’d buy you dinner, since I can’t take you out. I don’t know how much you like alfredo, but you always get that on our dates.

It was from Dante, though you doubted he was the one that physically wrote it out. Truthfully, it was probably the most thoughtful thing anyone had done for you in your adult life.

“What is it?” Leona repeated, looking around you to glance at the note. You shook your head and closed the box. Leona was the nosiest girl you knew and you wouldn’t be able to stand if she figured out you were trying to date.

“Just from a friend,” you said, offering her a smile. “They wanted to get me dinner since we can’t hang out tonight.”

Leona hummed, but the way she glanced at you signaled she didn’t believe you. You walked off, glancing down at your watch and noticing the time.

“Alright, dinner!” you called out. “Stuff for sandwiches and leftovers are in the fridge. We’ll continue with set at seven, but I want to give everyone refining notes while they eat.”

You heard a couple yes ma’am’s as you made your way back to the seating area of the auditorium. You picked up your pen and phone from where you had sat and retreated to your office for a moment, opening your contacts and searing for one in particular.

“Hello?”

You smiled at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” you said, sitting at your desk and opening the little container in the box. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You could imagine the grin that spread across his face—the same boyish one you were falling for despite yourself. “I thought it’d be nice to do.”

“It is. I’m surprised you noticed what I like.”

Dante chuckled. “What can I say? I’m not a ladies man for no reason.”

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t see it, but another laugh slipped from his lips, almost in response to your teasing antics. “Okay, player. Just because you happened to notice something doesn’t make you a ladies man.”

“I like to think I’ve still got it.”

You rolled your eyes again, opening the plastic bag with the plastic fork and napkin before beginning to eat. “Whatever makes you feel better, I suppose. How was your day?”

“Better now that you’ve called me.”

“Is that why you sent me food?”

“Well . . .” You scoffed and he laughed, and for a moment you forgot that he didn’t like what you like. For a moment you could imagine going home to him after a long day of work. “That may have been a risky factor.”

“So you were betting that I would call and make your day better?”

“So many questions.” You laughed this time, the sound ringing like a bell in Dante’s ears. For a moment it made him consider liking what you like, just to hear it again.

Your laughter died down, and a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you. A smile was on your face, one you didn’t even realize was there, as you ate.

Then the moment of fantasy was gone, and you remembered that he didn’t like what you liked, and your smile faded.

“I have to go in a few minutes,” you softly said, looking up through your office window. Most everyone had sat down, laughing with each other as they scarfed down their food. You noticed Leona, looking at you through the window, though she quickly turned her attention back to Yip and Alexis when you caught her eyes.

“Right,” Dante mused. “Say, are you free Saturday?”

“Rehearsal from nine to five,” you replied, glancing over at the calendar you had taped to the wall behind your computer.

“Next week? At all?”

“No . . .” you mumbled. Dante softly cursed, though you couldn’t make out the exact word he used. “We’re practicing with the orchestra, then.”

“Right.”

Just like that the awkward silence similar to the one a few nights ago at the restaurant was back. You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking.

“You could come watch?” you suggested. “Sometime next week before opening night. Rehearsals are four to-“

“I’m busy,” Dante admitted, though it sounded like he didn’t want to.

“Oh.” Was he really busy? Or was his distaste for musicals that strong? “That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Hey, uhm.” You glanced at the time. “Can we talk sometime tomorrow? I’m free from basically eleven-thirty to one o’ five.”

You heard Dante exhale. “Yeah. I’ll be waiting.”

You hummed. “Okay. I have to go now.”

Dante bid you goodbye and promptly hung up. You say in shock for a moment at the abruptness before letting out a heavy breath.

You weren’t sure this was going to work.

—

“Fuck, I messed up,” Dante groaned, covering his face with his hands and running his fingers through his dyed hair. Two weeks had passed, and Dante felt like he had been endlessly battling with himself about whether or not to reach out to you again.

On Friday—sometime between eleven-thirty and one o’ five, just as you’d said—Dante’s phone rang with the chimes he’d assigned specifically to your contact. He’d drummed his fingers against his desk for what seemed like hours before answering.

The news he received was . . . Not great.

You’d told him your predicament—not knowing if you’d be able to be with him knowing he doesn’t like musicals and plays, which you love. It wasn’t just that, though, you’d said, it was that Dante wasn’t willing to put his dislike for it aside and attend a musical just to support you.

It wasn’t technically a breakup, since the two of you had never really officiated the whole boyfriend girlfriend thing, but damn did it feel like one.

At least, Dante imagined this is what a breakup felt like. Was this how every girl he dumped reacted? Maybe he should apologize to the ones he could . . .

“Will you quit moping?” Laurance complained from his place at the kitchen island. He sat in one of the stools, pouring over a check book or inventory log or something. “I can’t focus with all your complaining.”

Dante nearly pulled his hair out. He dropped his hands from his head and turned it to face Laurance. “If you had been dumped you’d know how I feel.”

Dante couldn’t see Laurance’s face, but he could feel the exaggerated eye roll.

“You were not even dating her.”

“I was planning on it!” Dante shouted. He groaned again, running his hands over his face once more before falling sideways onto the couch. The springs squeaked under the strain of his weight.

“Well why didn’t you?”

“I was waiting until the right time. I had planned to ask her when we went to your damn restaurant, and then I found out she’s . . .” Dante hesitated, tripping over his words. “She’s a theatre kid.”

Whatever scribbling Laurance had been doing ceased immediately. Dante didn’t hear the scratch of graphite on paper anymore, and when he looked up he was met with Laurance’s harsh glare.

“Be so serious,” Laurance said. “You didn’t ask her to be your girlfriend because she’s a theatre kid?” He blinked. “That’s so childish.”

Dante flushed. “Well- Okay, it’s not just that-“

“Then what is it?” Laurance set his ballpoint pen down and turned the stool to lean back against the counter, crossing his arms. It made Dante feel like he was being judged.

Which, in all reality, he was. He knew Laurance was refraining from saying a few choice words.

“She’s a teacher. And she teaches at Phoenix Drop High. I don’t-“ Laurance raised an eyebrow in question when Dante stumbled over his words. What was he even trying to say. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t get it. Know why? Because learning a girl’s interests isn’t something that typically deters me. Laurance rolled his eyes. He slipped out of the island chair and walked across the room to the couch. Laurance grabbed Dante’s hand and forced him to sit up, settling in beside him. “Dante, I’ve never seen you more genuinely interested in a girl and the fact that you’re off put by her interest in theatre is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well what do you propose I do, Mister I-Can-Get-Any-Girl-I-Want? You know I can’t stand musicals.”

Laurance deadpanned. “You like her?”

“Obviously.”

“Then give it a chance. Or pretend. I don’t think she’d mind that you hate musicals so long as you make an effort to support her.” Laurance watched for Dante’s reaction, shrugging when his friend showed no sign of verbal acknowledgment. “Or don’t listen to me. What do I know?”

Laurance stood from the couch. He returned to the island and grabbed the three-ring binder before going off to his room, leaving Dante to wallow in his own thoughts.

Dante stared straight ahead, making eye contact with himself through the TV’s reflection. He sat there for a moment, completely unmoving. He’s sure if someone walked in, they would assume he’d died.

And then, somewhere between mourning the loss of you and processing Laurance’s words, Dante was hit with a sense of clarity.

He’d never really put effort into anything. He enjoyed the chase, but once a girl showed no interest he gave up. And when a girl did show interest, he rejected her when she finally made a move.

He’d never been in this situation before. Having feelings for someone that obviously shared them, and then being very politely rejected because their interests didn’t match.

He started by looking up the Phoenix Drop High theatre program on Instagram. It wasn’t a hard find, as the account was public and followed by Katelyn. He scrolled through the posts, clicking on the pinned one and reading through the advertisement.

It was for the musical. The words She Loves Me were centered in easy to read swirly writing and letters were scattered around the whole flyer. Dante looked at the performance times. It was Sunday, meaning he had one more chance.

He found himself thinking, I’m in deep, as he held his phone up to his ear, waiting for the recipient to answer.

“What do you want?”

Dante breathed out a sigh of relief. “Hey, Katelyn. I was, uh, looking through events in Phoenix Drop and saw that the local high school is putting on a performance.

“So?”

“Do you wanna go with me?”

Katelyn was silent for a moment. “This isn’t going to be a date, right?”

“No,” Dante answered quickly. “No, it’s not. I just want to go.”

Another moment of silence. Then, Katelyn softly exhaled. “Fine.”

—

The last time Dante had been in the Phoenix Drop High auditorium was for his graduation. Irene, he didn’t even want to think about how long ago that was.

It looked the exact same as it did in his memory, though instead of a row of chairs being lines up on the stage there were five small buildings.

He’d paid for both his and Katelyn’s tickets. It was the least he could do for bringing her, though he suspected she had already been since the red-haired woman in the lobby said, “Welcome back.”

Dante didn’t care. He mindlessly followed Katelyn down the rows until she stopped and slipped into seats. Dante sat in the one beside her, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

He didn’t know why he had dressed nicer than usual. He knew his usual jeans and T-shirt would have sufficed. But some part of him wanted to . . . Impress you. Win you back, maybe. Convince you that he did care about you and that he was willing to put effort into making sure you knew that.

Irene, he was down bad. Look at him, all dressed up to attend a show he had absolutely zero interest in. What kind of boy in love was he?

Dante never expected to find himself in an auditorium, anticipating the start of the coming show. He never thought he’d be putting this much effort into anything for a girl either. He’d never been that kind of person. His high school self would’ve laughed at him if he knew just how deep in his feelings Dante was.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but when the room lights dimmed and the stage lights lit up in shades of yellow and a pitchy freshman came onstage singing Good morning, Dante couldn’t help but smile.

What he couldn’t figure out was why.

—

He pieced it together when the curtain closed for intermission and he immediately stood up, spinning around like a dummy trying to find you. It was because he could see you in every part of the play. He didn’t know your tastes that well, but the fact that you had chosen a musical about love made perfect sense to him. He was able to see your hand in every set piece and costume—even the way your students acted. A few of your mannerisms were scattered throughout, like the way you covered your mouth when you laughed or twirled your hair when you flirted. He saw all of that.

He didn’t find you during intermission, but once Georg and Amalia kissed and exited and the bows were done and the very last song was sang and you came on stage, a wide smile spread across Dante’s face. There you were, beaming at the audience with pride in the work you had done. You thanked everyone for coming, as well as the entire cast and crew and other unnamed adults that helped tremendously during rehearsals. And then finally, when you set the microphone back on the stand and let your students disperse into the crowd to find their friends and family, Dante was able to get close to you.

Katelyn had already bid him goodbye and left, not caring for whatever Dante was trying to do. Which, if she had waited for him it would’ve been a while. Dante couldn’t quite get close to you. Some parents or student or camera man was constantly walking up to you. But, now that Katelyn was gone, Dante was stranded if you didn’t take him back.

It wasn’t until you’d taken a final photo with the girl who played Amalia (Dante eavesdropped and learned her name was Alexis) that he was able to approach you.

He called your name, which made you turn toward him. When you saw who it was, your eyes widened. Your mouth opened like you were going to say something before you shut it again.

“Dante,” you finally settled on saying. “You’re here.”

Dante smiled. “Yeah. I am.”

—

Finishing a show was always a surreal experience for you. It was always difficult to believe that you had pulled everything together. That the choices you made had created a beautiful portrayal of any play or musical.

The final show was by far the best. Alexis and Yip had managed to perfect the chemistry woven into every conversation Amalia and Georg had. Not to mention Kyle had made a shockingly good Kodaly.

You were beaming with pride and joy while you stood on the stage, thanking everyone for coming and supporting Phoenix Drop High’s theatre students.

Maybe youd lost the one chance at love you had because he didn’t like what you liked, but that was okay. As long as you were able to continue doing what you loved, to continue guiding students into fields they excelled in and enjoyed, it was okay.

You weren’t expecting to see him, though, and when you did your heart squeezed tight.

He was dressed nicely. Slacks and a pressed white collared shirt, not unlike the outfit he’d worn on your date two weeks ago. He was obviously out of place, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Dante,” you breathed. Your mouth felt dry. What were you supposed to say? You had broken off whatever relationship you had with him because he didn’t want t come, but now . . . “You’re here.”

He smiled. It was soft. Very different from the boyish one he typically sported. His gaze flitted around your face—your eyes then your eyebrows then your cheeks and your lips. “I am.”

“You said you weren’t coming.”

Dante let out a heavy breath. “I did.”

It seemed like he wanted to add more. “But?”

“Well, a friend of mine made me realize that you’re something special.”

“You couldn’t realize that yourself?” Your tone was lighthearted, but behind the teasing you were a bit hurt. It took someone else to make Dante realize he wanted to be with you?

“No, I-“ Dante stuttered, his cheeks turning pink. “Yes. I could realize that myself. It just didn’t- I’m not the best at this.”

“What happened to being a ladies man?”

“Well.” Dante paused, hesitating. It wasn’t until you raised an eyebrow at him in question that he let out a short breath and continued. “I was more of a ladies man in high school, and even I was, uh . . . Low commitment.”

Your eyes widened, but you laughed. Irene, Dante missed that sound. “Low commitment?”

“Loved the chase, not so much the reward.”

You only laughed again, covering your mouth. When your laughter died down, you asked, “So what? Am I, like, your first actual relationship?”

“Sort of? I mean, you and I hadn’t really reached the officially dating stage, so . . .”

You smiled softly. Seeing Dante nervous was refreshing. On all of your dates before he had been the biggest flirt you’d ever met. Seeing him fumble over his words was endearing. It reminded you that he was a human with feelings, too.

“I’m glad you came,” you admitted after a moment.

“I had to,” he replied. It made your smile widen, because he really didn’t. He could have stayed home and continued to try and pursue you. You would have given in eventually. But no, Dante decided to attend the show you had orchestrated. Dante decided to make an effort.

It made your heart swell.

“Do you wanna, like, hang out? Like right now?” he asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. It was probably do you didn’t notice him fidgeting with your fingers.

Your smile slightly faded. Even though the show was officially over, you were still just a tad busy. You saw the moment Dante recognized that. “I’m sorry. There are a couple things I do for seniors since it’s their last show,” you explained.

Dante shook his head. “No, no. It’s alright. I can wait.”

That made you smile, and Dante smiled as well. He was willing to wait.

The two of you walked for a moment longer before Yip announced that they were going to start their little traditions. Dante sat himself back in the audience and watched as your students gathered on the stage and swirled around each other and shared heartwarming stories about their time in the theatre program.

He watched your delight as Levin and Malachi gifted you a bouquet of pink daisies and a VHS of some old She Loves Me production they had found at the thrift store.

He waited until the students started leaving one by one, and when the last one finally left, he approached you again. Now it was just the two of you in the auditorium.

You smiled at him, gathering the daisies and VHS in your arms before swiping your keys from a table backstage. “Ready?”

Dante nodded, eyeing the bouquet in your hands. “I’ll get you flowers. Big ones.”

You chuckled. “You don’t have to. You already came all dressed up.”

“I want to.” Dante offered his hand to take the keys, which you gave him. It looked like he would be driving. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You beamed, following Dante out the red doors in the back. Your car wasn’t parked far. It barely took a second to reach it. You opened the back seat and set the bouquet and VHS down. “So your solution is to ask me with flowers?”

“Yes.”

You smiled, shutting the door before turning to him. He was standing less than an arm’s length away.

“You just have to ask, you know?”

Dante’s blue eyes glimmered. They were such a pretty shade, their color akin to sapphires. He smiled down at you, and then he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his lips. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You tried to stop your lips from curling up, but it was useless. You stood straighter and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Yes.”

The moment felt right, so Dante pressed his lips to yours in the sweetest kiss he’d ever had. Your lips were soft and you tasted like cherries, and Dante found that he never wanted to pull away or be without your touch.

You got him good.

can you guys tell i had fun writing this based on how long it is lmao

25 notes · View notes

starhvney · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I would like to go with PDH Zane, Gene, Dante and Travis. Tea is my favorite so I would like that too. Oh! And with some cream and a delicious jelly donut 😋

Just to give you an idea of what I want, they take the reader to somewhere special that they only shown to the reader! I think it would be really cute. Thank you, and I hope you have a wonderful day 🤭

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟐: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: romantic tension, fluff, hidden location

𝐚/𝐧: it was, in fact, super cute! thanks for the request! i had fun writing this hehe. have a wonderful day as well!!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄

“How long have you been coming here?” you whisper, warily glancing across the silent graveyard for any grieving visitors that you might be intruding on.

There wasn’t another soul around in sight though, at least not in your sight. You suppose no one comes here around this time of day, as the sun set and set an even colder chill in the bones of anyone who was still outside.

Zane was quiet for a moment, instead focusing on making sure the stone bench you’ve both stopped at wasn’t going to soak into your pants and really make you cold. He sits after a second, nodding for you to sit as he rests his elbows on his knees.

You don’t talk again, instead waiting for him to respond as you take the spot next to him. He’d been acting so different lately—actually getting into bad stuff and rebelling instead of just being all talk when he looked up to Gene back in freshman year. It worried you, but you didn’t feel like arguing about it in this peaceful moment between you two.

Despite the eeriness, you couldn’t deny it was pretty peaceful here. There were no voices, no expectations placed on you. Perhaps this is why he liked this place so much. Not that he’d admit it out loud, of course, but you’re sure a deep part of him just wants to be acknowledged for who he is.

A cold breeze rushes through the tall cypress trees as they sway above your heads, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake and making you shiver.

“Since middle school,” he finally admits, the thick layer of the outer coat he brought landing over your shoulders. “I like the quiet. Used to sneak out when I was annoyed by my family. No one else but you knows about it.”

You nod slowly, glancing over at him from the corner of your eye as you gratefully pull the jacket over you. A part of you wanted to question why he wanted to take you here, but you think maybe you already know when he glances back at you, his eye drifting up and down your face with a reserved susceptibility in it.

Yeah, he may have been trying damn hard to toughen himself, but you know damn well that emo dork is still in there wanting approval; especially from you.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

A distant creak from the hall behind you makes you jump, your hand clutching onto Gene’s sleeve as your head whips around the empty room. A vine that had grown down from the stained ceiling tile

“Are you sure there aren’t squatters here or something…?” You whisper, legs tense and ready to make a run for it—whether the punk calls you a wimp for it later or not.

A scoff echoes against the broken tile beneath your feet, and the arm you were clinging to suddenly wraps around your shoulder, tugging you into his side. The smell of cologne and cigarette smoke hits your nose, but something about it is a bit comforting—especially compared to the musty building you were in.

“You’re gonna be just fine, kitty. You really think I’d let something happen to you?” he says, not bothering to lower his voice like you did.

“Well if a murderous crackhead comes busting through a door? Then what?”

He cackles, seeming highly amused by a pretty valid worry you have. “I come here all the time. Not even they know about this place.”

You swallow, trying to reassure yourself by the fact he had to help you navigate through overgrown shrubbery to even see this place. As your eyes trail along a deep crack in the wall his fingers suddenly pinch your cheek, forcing you to look at him as a disgruntled whine leaves your lips.

“Hey, you look cute with your eyes all wide like that, but I don’t want you to actually be scared.” he glances over your face, briefly licking his lips as his eyes linger lowly. “Are you really scared? You trust me don’t you?”

Not completely. But regardless you nod, the butterflies in your stomach fighting against your instinct. He hums approvingly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he squeezes your shoulder.

“Good. We’re here.”

A wave of cold, fresh air washes over your face, clearing your head and the wild thoughts that had started

“Look. You can see the whole city from here through the trees, but they can’t see us.” he says, his husky voice brushing against your ear. You’re glad the cold wind rushing past the two of you through the broken window gives a good excuse for the way your shoulders tremble. “Pretty, huh?”

“Mhm…”

A chuckle brushes against your hair. “Cute.”

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄

“C’mon. I promise it’s not as far of a jump as it looks,” Dante gestures with his hands for you to leap forward, encouragingly leaning forward over the creek. “I’ll catch you, sweetie. Promise.”

You raise an eyebrow at his blatant flirtatious nickname, but knowing he wouldn’t relent you instead focus on the task at hand. He was right, you probably could make this jump, but damn is the water cold and deep enough to soak your shoes through.

Shaking your head, you decide to go for it, backing up a few paces before taking the leap of faith. His hands catch onto you and tug you the rest of the way onto dry land, though a splash still meets your ears when you see Dante’s eyes widen and shoulders get thrown off kilter.

“Damn!” He yelps. “That’s cold!”

Looking down, his foot is now soaked as he lifts it out of the running creek, his face gritting into a “whoops” expression. His shoe, likely his socks, and his jean leg are dripping with the icy cold water. He doesn’t seem upset, but you feel partially guilty for the boy’s misfortune.

“Sorry…”

“Ah, it’s okay. It’s not like you threw me in. C’mon,” he waves it off, taking another moment to shake off his foot before guiding you forward again, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

You stumble at first as he drags you along, but it only takes a second for you to accept your fate and fall into step with him. All you can focus on as the two of you walk is his warm arm around your shoulder and the scent of his rather strong cologne and deodorant. Honestly, despite it being a little overpowering, it was better than him smelling like some of the other guys in the high school, that’s for sure.

Over broken roots and dead leaves crunching under your feet, the boy lightly squeezes your shoulder as you come to a stop.

“Here we are.”

Up ahead is a tall, thick tree, the roots gnarled and twisting out from the ground. It held up huge branches that were weighed down by their own weight, drooping across a large expanse that overpowered the younger trees around it. Around the trunk is a fort made of long sticks, a ladder coming out from the top and reaching up to a platform of random old planks that were patched together.

“This was a fort Gene and I made when we were younger,” he says, sounding a bit nostalgic and proud. “He doesn’t uh… ever come here with me anymore but I still come here to make sure it doesn’t fall apart and to chill for a little bit.”

“Woah.” Is all you can return, eyes wide as you take in the rather elaborate fort for it being built by young boys. “This is really cool…”

“Thanks.” He grins, taking his arm off from your shoulder to grab your hand instead, sending a wink your way as he drags you to the entrance. “Why don’t we picnic here as a first date?”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

“How do you even find a place like this?”

Travis looks back to give a braced tooth grin at you, waggling his brows as he gestures at the old—likely highly out of regulation play set. Old mulch is overgrown by weeds and bushes, even some vines climbing up onto the slide and across the monkey bars. It wasn’t the right season right now, but you’re sure it would be even more beautiful with the spring and summer wildflowers.

“Ah, I didn’t have many friends except for Dante in middle school. So when I couldn’t hang with him I’d get pretty bored,” he explains sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyways, I ended up going out wandering while trying to learn how to skateboard and after busting my kneecaps twenty times I just… found this place.”

“Well, now you have more than just Dante as a friend, you have me!” you chirp, walking closer to the metal playscape.

“I wish… we… more…” he murmurs, just out of your earshot as you kick at some rotten wood chips.

“Hm? What was that?”

“What? I said… I wish uh…” Nervous chuckles suddenly burst from his mouth as he looks around, before pointing at the old merry-go-round to your right. “I wish we could try out that thing!”

You blink, looking at the hunk of metal with raised eyebrows. With a shrug, the two of you dash over to it, a sudden mischievousness forming on your faces.

“Wanna see how fast it spins?”

“Hell yeah.”

On either side, the two of you grab onto the rusted handles, the squeaky metal groaning in protest as you begin to push against it. As soon as you gain enough momentum, you both hop on, your mingled laughter overpowering the unpleasant sound of the squeaking and scratching beneath you.

Travis must’ve let his foot down to keep pushing, because soon your head feels like it’s spinning as fast as the contraption, everything around you melting into simple colors rushing by—with Travis’s grinning face in the center of your vision.

Before you know it, your side meets the mulch, and the teen boy responsible for your wood-chip demises can only continue to laugh, his head landing next to yours as you both try to regain your vision.

“I’m still spinning!” He cackles, eyes trained on the sky as the clouds above him likely swirl and mesh together like they are in yours.

You can’t help but laugh along, his stupidly contagious cheerfulness hard to be irritated at, even if you feel a little sick to your stomach now.

“That was kinda fun,” you smile.

Travis stares at you wide-eyed as you continue to giggle, his chest heaving with a big contented sigh.

“Wanna go again?”

“Hell nah!”

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