you know how to ball i know aristotle
jock!scottbarringer x shy!femreader
…based off of So High School by Taylor Swift. hope you enjoy! feel free to comment/like/reblog.
warnings: slight making out, reader implied to have anxiety, swearing and sexual indications/thoughts. i apologise in advance for my lack of american football knowledge!
You looked up from your book- Romeo and Juliet, the modern version- in annoyance. A balled-up piece of paper sailed across the classroom, landing on your desk. Sighing, you reached out to uncrumple it, reading the words that were scrawled across the paper in messy lead.
Your eyes flicked to the other side of the room. There, rocking so far back in his seat you were surprised he hadn’t fallen, was Scott Barringer. He was dressed in a ribbed white tank top, varsity jacket lazily slung over the back of his chair. Scott’s dirty blonde hair was messed and looked slightly damp, as if he’d just come out of the shower. When he caught your gaze on him, he smirked and gave you a lopsided grin, blue eyes sparkling. Again.
You bit your lip to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. This was the third time this month he’d pulled a trick like this. The first was at the October Autumn Carnival, which you had attended with a friend. Suddenly, Scott had walked up to you, hands behind his back mischievously. You had been caught off guard- as an introvert who had around three close friends at school, the captain of the football team approaching you had not been expected.
Scott had presented an adorable little stuffed deer in front of your face, and you turned around, wondering if the cheer captain was behind you and he was looking at her. But there had been no one there- and your cheeks flushed a dusty pink hue, something that couldn’t be blamed on the autumn chill. The deer was charming, all big doe eyes and fawn coloured fur, and you had laughed nervously before taking it gently from his large hands.
“Do you like deer?” Scott had asked, scratching the back of his neck. “You look like the type of person to. I won it for you, y’know.”
Cheeks still pink, you giggled stupidly. “I love deer. My favourite animal. Thank you!”
His hand had reached out for yours, and his lips gently pressed a soft kiss to the top of it. But after another grin, he had walked off with his friend from the football team, only looking back once to catch you staring dumbfoundedly after him.
That deer still had a luxurious spot sitting at the head of your bed, at the base of your pillows.
Two weeks later, at the senior sunrise, Scott tried to get your attention again. It had been a chilly morning, the windy gusts making your nose pink and your hair stand up on end. You were dressed in a tank top and jeans, refusing to bring a jacket as you had none that matched your outfit and you believed the warm air of summer was still here.
You had been wrong. Sitting in the sand, watching the sun rise over the horizon and the waves, you shivered slightly from the cold. Drawing abstract shapes and doodles in the hard sand next to you, your head was resting on your knees to conserve body heat. But then, you felt a light brush of fingers around your neck, and suddenly, a warm sensation enveloped you. Scott had flopped down in the sand next you, and you fingered the plush material around your shoulders, realising he was no longer wearing his jacket.
A small smile played on your lips as you subtly breathed in the scent of Scott. It had a little of typical teenage boy musk- sweat and aftershave- but that was mostly covered by the scent of coffee grounds and maple, which surprised you.
“You looked a little cold,” Scott had whispered, voice low and gravelly from the early start.
“Freezing, actually. Thanks.”
He’d only nodded in response, eyes flicking down to the shapes you had drawn in the sand.
After what had felt like an hour of silence, you’d broken it. “I kept the deer. Her name is Lilac.”
Scott’s gaze immediately lifted to meet yours, his usual shine filling blue irises again. “You did? That’s a pretty name.”
You’d smiled. “She’s got the prime position on my bed.”
In an instant, Scott’s mind had shifted to somewhere it probably shouldn’t be, wishing he was the one with a prime spot on your bed, instead of that stupid toy deer… But he only returned your smile, chuckling softly.
After the sunrise was over, Scott had walked you to your car, reluctantly accepting his jacket from you when you handed it over. If he had known you better, he would’ve insisted on you keeping it for a while longer. God, he’d kiss that jacket goodbye if it meant seeing on your perfect body every single day.
And that had all led to now, him smirking at you boyishly as you read the note he hadn’t hesitated to throw to you.
You shook your head at him slowly, trying not to laugh as he pouted playfully. Please, he mouthed.
Shrugging, you gestured with your hands. Why?
Scott held up a finger. One time?
You thought for a few minutes, your eyes making contact with the math equations on the whiteboard the class was meant to be doing.
When you looked over at Scott again, he was giving you puppy eyes. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” he whispered, loud enough so you could hear it.
Sighing, you bit your lip again. How bad could it really be? He had been nothing but sweet and flirty in the previous weeks. Tearing a piece off your page, you wrote, in much neater handwriting-
-and threw it to him in a scrunched-up ball.
Scott’s eyes lit up with excitement as he unravelled the note. He scribbled back on the other side-
I have a game at 6. Wanna watch me and get food after?
You read the words, then reread them. It was a Friday night, and you had nothing else to do anyway. Nodding over at him, you gave him a small smile.
He pumped his fist silently in the air, grinning in triumph.
Giggling softly at his reaction, you returned to Romeo and Juliet’s world physically- but your mind kept drifting back to Scott Barringer. Finally the bell for the end of the day rang out shrilly through the school, adding to the building anticipation inside both you and Scott.
That evening, you parked your car around the block from the school’s oval. You were a little late after spiralling about what to wear- it was 6:15, and you could already here loud cheering coming from the grandstands. You made your way cautiously through the crowd of highschoolers and found a spot on the cold metal bench with a good view of the game. To your left, a group of freshman girls were chattering excitedly about the famous quarterback. The one who was getting offers already for scholarships at colleges, who had helped the school’s team win grand finals for 3 years in a row, since he was a freshman.
The reason most girls came to games, if not to watch their boyfriends.
Suddenly, everything around you seemed to slow down. The gossip, stomping feet, and sharp whistles faded into hollow, distant noise. You could feel your heart thumping in your throat as your gaze swept over a sea of people you didn’t know, who all belonged to a world you weren’t a part of. You swallowed hard, desperately trying to bury the lump in your chest as it felt like the spotlight was turned on you. But it wasn’t- no one here cared. You were just another face in the crowd, sitting stiffly on cold metal, alone. Bright floodlights blurred the edges of your vision as you cast your gaze to the lit-up field, where the players burst into motion, colliding with the opposite team brutally before scattering back into position. Scott was out there, helmet protecting his face- the golden boy. And you were no one.
But just as quickly as it came, time sped up as the crowd whooped in anticipation, and your focus trained on Scott, who had the ball. He sprinted down the field, cleats skidding across the grass. Two defenders from the other school lunged at him, but he was faster, more agile, and he twisted away from them, before dashing past.
The crowd was roaring now, like booming thunder in your ears as your eyes tracked Scott across the ground. Voices of the student commentators were filled with excitement as they spoke quickly. “20 yards out…Barringer’s a pocket rocket tonight! …10 yards out…”
Scott focused on one thing and one thing only: the line that was less than 10 yards away from him now. The roaring of the crowd and the shouts of his teammates faded into background noise as he came closer to it.
Diving over the line, Scott stretched the ball out for the touchdown as the whistle blew and the commentators rambled.
“…And touchdown for Scott Barringer, number 13 everyone! That’s just put his team up 6, making the score 20-14 at halftime now!”
The school erupted around the field, whoops echoing. You were on your feet before you even knew what you were doing, cheering and clapping loudly.
Scott’s triumphant expression faded into a disappointed one as he took his helmet off, bright blue eyes scanning the crowd slowly. But when he looked closer, his smile returned as a large grin when he spotted you yelling from a front row bleacher. Time seemed to slow down again, as the only thing either of you could see became each other.
The moment was broken however, when Scott’s teammates ran up to him, yelling and whooping as they lifted him off the ground in sweaty hugs.
“Calm down boys, we haven’t won it yet,” he told them, but he was grinning as they walked over to the sidelines.
You were pulled out of your trance by the freshmen sitting next to you, whispers of “Barringer’s on fire tonight!” and “god, whoever he’s dating right now is goddamn lucky,” and “he’s so fine,” reaching your ears. The familiar feeling of isolation kicked in again. You’re not special to him.
Meanwhile, Scott’s team were being given a vigorous peptalk by the Coach. Though he nodded along, he could only focus his mind on you, standing in the stands, at his game, cheering for his touch down, as the one he invited. Soon enough, he excused himself under the false pretence of grabbing a drink of water. He snuck towards to the bleachers you were still standing at, jogging over flushed and breathless. Scott put his elbows up on the barrier that separated the stand from the field, leaning against it as he gave you a cheesy grin.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” he panted as you darted over to him, putting your arms around his neck.
“Didn’t think you’d notice me anyway,” you teased, but it was partly true. “You’ve got your own little world out there.”
His eyes widened. “Yeah, but I’d always notice you.” He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear gently. “You’re too fucking pretty.”
As your cheeks coloured, you tried to play his compliment off. “Get your sweaty hands off me, Scott.”
Jaw dropping open, Scott made an expression of mock offence. “Excuse me. I didn’t know I was supposed to be squeaky clean and shimmering after playing for forty-five minutes.”
You giggled, fingers toying softly with the sticky blonde curls that stuck to the nape of his neck. “So, are you still taking me out after the game?”
Scott leaned into your touch, enjoying the feeling of hands that were on him gently for once. “Course I am. Didn’t practically throw myself at your feet all month for nothing, y’know.”
“Oh, is that what you were doing? I didn’t notice,” you said playfully, scratching the back of his neck lightly with your nails.
“Sure you didn’t,” he said, looking up at you with soft eyes.
“You’re so good out there. It’s like you were born for it. That touchdown was awesome,” you said quietly. Part of the reason you had been late was because you had hurriedly studied a book about football from the library, determined not to get anything incorrect if someone were to ask you.
Scott’s heart sang at your praise, and he melted further into your touch. It meant so much more to him coming from your sweet mouth than some college coach’s clipboard. “Thanks…means s’ much to me.”
“Go and win, okay?” you replied, nodding.
“I’ll win it if you’re watching me.”
“Then I’ll make sure not to miss anything,” you said with a smile as a shrill whistle blew, signalling the beginning of the third quarter.
“Don’t go anywhere after!” Scott called, reluctantly leaving your hands and running back over to the field.
You sat back in your seat, heart still thumping- but this time, you didn’t feel so unseen.
As the game continued and the end of it neared, the entire crowd was on their feet, you included. You held your breath in anticipation as a guy on Scott’s team you didn’t even know- number seventeen- broke the line of the other team’s defence. And suddenly, the crowd came alive- school mascot jumping, cheerleaders shaking pom poms- as the final whistle for full time blew.
“Andddddd final score for tonight’s game, 32-26! A close game tonight, and a big win for the home team, meaning our very own football team will be advancing to the semi-finals in two Friday’s time!” The commentator’s voices blared loudly with triumph, but the megaphone just buzzed through one of your ears and out the other.
You were too focused on Scott’s face.
He was wearing one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen on his face, with cheeks flushed and sweaty hair pushed back as he and his teammates took off their helmets, and all crashed together in a pile of a group hug. After each of them clapped number seventeen hard on the shoulder, they whooped loudly and turned to the crowd, who only gave them a louder cheer.
Before you knew it, you were smiling just as wide as he was, maybe even wider when Scott caught your eye and crossed his finger over his heart. He kept his promise.
When the crowd had died down and the two teams retreated to their respected locker rooms, you found a spot against the wall outside the canteen, which was closed. You pulled out your book and began to read, voices fading into a hum as you waited for Scott to come out.
After around twenty minutes, you put Romeo and Juliet back away in your bag. Several boys from Scott’s team had been filtering out of their room. They surely would have noticed you sitting on the concrete, but if they did, no one acknowledged your presence. You uncurled your legs from where they were hugged to your chest and stood up, wondering if Scott was coming. Panic began to twist in your chest again, as the sudden thought hit you that this was all just a sick joke. He didn’t want to take you out- he had probably left through the back somewhere you couldn’t see for a party. Biting your lip, you padded softly into the boy’s locker room. It smelled of sweat, body odour, and something smoky.
As you walked in further, pink kitten heels clacking on the cold floor, you saw a hunched over shape sitting on the bench. It was Scott. He was out of his uniform, shoulder and thigh pads tossed carelessly in a messy pile at his feet, where his sneakers replaced his cleats. You slowly approached him, not wanting to startle him, and when his head snapped up you could see the red rims of his eyes.
“Scott?” You whispered, sitting down next to him on the cold wood. This close, you could smell the fresh scent of his body wash and cologne. Maple.
“Hey, um- sorry, I was just coming,” Scott replied quickly, swiping at his eyes like he could erase whatever he thought you’d seen. “Promise. Did you see we won the game? We were so good.”
“Yeah, I saw you won the game, it was incredible,” you said softly. “Are you alright?”
“Huh? Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just, like, cold, y’know. Autumn chill.” He stood up from the bench, offering you his hand.
You took it and let him pull you up with a smile, giving his hand a light squeeze.
“Come on, I wanna take you out,” he said with his usual grin.
After you climbed into Scott’s old pickup truck, you soon discovered his idea of ‘taking you out’ was McDonald’s burgers and soft serve.
Eventually, he parked the ute outside a park, helping you out of it as the two of you began to stroll through the dimly lit area. It was now around nine, and the park was deserted, the glare of low streetlights the only form of light. Scott flopped down onto the swing set, and you followed his lead, swinging back and forth slowly while you licked your ice cream, dipping fries in it too.
“This your idea of fine dining, Scott?” you teased playfully, your shoes scraping through woodchips as the swing chains creaked softly.
“McDonald’s has never once failed me. I get it after every game I’ve won,” Scott said, tossing his burger wrapper in the bin. “Wouldn’t miss sharing that with you.”
You giggled, the air just cold enough that your breath fogged. “I like you a lot more than I thought I would, you know,” you said quietly, smiling when you saw his blue eyes catch the light. “I almost didn’t come.”
Scott returned your gentle smile, watching a drip of ice cream roll down your chin and onto your neck. “Why?”
“I was scared it’d be a trick, and I’d just look like an idiot in front of everyone.” You popped a fry in your mouth, the salty and sweet flavours combining nicely.
“God, is that what people say about me?” Scott joked, exhaling only to watch his breath cloud. He turned more serious when you didn’t reply. “I’d never do that to you.”
“Why?” you asked, oblivious to the drip on your neck.
“Your life is so different from mine,” Scott said, eyes meeting yours again. “I wanted to see what that feels like.”
The silence stretched through the empty playground- not awkward, but comfortable. You looked back over at him, the streetlight above you throwing soft gold across his face.
“You’ve got ice cream on your neck.”
You blushed almost instantly, huffing a soft laugh. “Thanks for letting me know.” You reached to wipe the droplet away, but before you could, Scott leaned over from his swing, catching your wrist gently.
Your flush only deepened, the hairs on your arms raising- not just from the cool air. You nodded.
He guided your hand into your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze before bringing his other hand up to cup your face. Calloused fingers brushed lightly against your pink cheek, and then suddenly his lips were on yours, latching carefully onto your full bottom lip as he kissed you. Scott gave you time to adjust to the feeling, letting you move your lips on his and part your mouth slightly, before he drew away, his breath warm against your jaw.
His lips were warm against your pebbled skin, a sharp contrast to the crisp chill of the air around you. You instinctively tilted your head to the side, allowing Scott more access to your neck as his larger hand gripped your cheek firmer to steady you. He pressed open mouthed kisses along your supple skin, before he reached where the drop of soft serve had fallen. His tongue darted out, tasting the liquid off your neck and covering the area with a kiss after.
Scott’s lips met yours once more in a lingering kiss, his tongue slipping inside your mouth briefly to deepen it, before he pulled back, breathing a little unevenly. Your breath mingled with his, both of you struggling to steady it. His forehead rested against yours, thumb brushing your hair back with a kind of quiet awe.
“Wow,” you whispered breathily, your free hand coming up to thread through his blonde curls.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now, pretty girl,” Scott replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
You only blushed, leaning your head gently against his shoulder.
{thank you @saradika-graphics for dividers. part two: here!}
