Bittersweet. (Teacher x Reader + Teacher x Teacher)

We demand, Rick supplies

"Good morning, class V3D!" I loudly say in order to shut everyone up. It's a Wednesday, 9:35 AM. Most students already had class before this, but others are still arriving from home, with dark circles under their eyes. I hope they haven't slept well.

I absolutely despise this class. All they do is laugh at me, call me names and disobey me. No one ever does their homework, either. And when I shout at them about how stupid they are, they don't care. I hate it when I can't make people cry. But then I see her:

Y/N.

I see her through the window. She's running to her own classroom, as she's late, but she still stops to wave at me. I smile and wave back, and she continues to run. It's so cute when she's in a hurr- Stop that! You could catch a case! I think to myself.

"Have you all done your homework on demand and supply? I WILL check!" Everyone smiles and nods, just like always. None of the boys in the back are sitting up straight. "Gayle, Castiel, Finn and Michael! Sit up straight, now." Gayle tries to argue that he's being discriminated. Oh, sod off. As if this kid even knows what it's like to be hate-c- WHAT? WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT THIS? I'm not turning into a liberal, am I?

None of them sit up straight. They just laugh at me. Of course, I'll only blame one of them on my failure to teach, so I send Gayle out. This is obviously a very dominant move of me, as well. I hope I can scare the other students off.

I got them to be silent, at last. I hope they're working, but deep down I know that they're just chatting, as I see no progress. Fuck this, I'm giving up. At least they've shut up, I guess. Or so I thought.

"We're no strangers to love..."

Max starts laughing. Oliver joins in, followed by Bobby and Carolina. I look around to see who it's coming from, but I have no clue.

"You know the rules, and so do I!"

More students realize what the song is, and they all start giggling. All of them. Even the online students. I really don't like this.

"A full commitment's what I'm thinking off..."

I feel tears well up in my eyes as my bottom lip starts shaking. I clench my fists, and my vision gets blurry. I still can't figure out who it is. Most students are screaming of laughter by now.

"You wouldn't get this from any other guy!"

I run. Out. I need out. I can't breathe. I can't see anything. And then I bump into something. Someone.

Y/N.

~

"Lennart-" I was looking at my phone when my economics teacher almost tripped over me. He instead just hit my shoulder and fell on the floor. Is he crying...? He sits up with his back against the wall. Yep, crying. He's shaking. Why is he shaking?

What the fuck do I do?! Sit next to him? No, that's seems a little weird. A little weird is fine with me though- WHAT? No, that is NOT fine! I decide to kneel next to him and put my hand on his shoulder. Do I tell him to breathe? Many people say that you shouldn't do that, but what should you say if not that?

"Breathe."

He takes a few breaths. Unstable ones. Assumably as stable as his mental health. He looks at me, as if he's telling me to help him. I simply shake my head. He leans into me, and I hold him. After about 5 minutes, he's calmed down.

"Do you want some water?" I ask him. He shakes no. "Anything else you'd like at all?" I get up and take his hand to help him stand up. "I think I need to take the day off." I guess that's understandable.

We walk back to his classroom to get his stuff. "What happened?" I ask him softly. He sighs; "I can't get this class to shut up. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. This one kid, probably Mike, is the final straw. He rick-rolled everyone. I just want to be in control."

The noise of his students gets louder as we approach the room. I feel sorry for the guy. He gets hated for absolutely no reason. We're at the classroom. I take his hand and squeeze it before he gets in to take his stuff.

"Hey softy!" someone yells. What? That's mean! Mr. Kwant (or Lennart, as I've been permitted to call him) fires up, a flame in his spine, and marches towards the kid. He has curly, ginger hair, and kind of looks like Rick Astley.

"NEVER CALL ME THAT. EVER. UNDERSTOOD?"

I jump. I've never seen him this angry. He really isn't okay. I wish I could help him. Whatever he demands, I'll supply. "Class dismissed," he coldly says as he walks out, all the flames and spice gone cold and frozen. "Y/N, will you walk me to the bus stop? I really don't think I should drive right now"

We pass one of Lennart's colleagues, Mr. Vries. "Leaving early today, buddy?" Lennart nods. Mr. Vries rests his hand on Lennart's shoulder. "I wish you a very good day. I'm always here for you, okay?" "Thanks Rob, but I should really get going now. I'll see you next week!" His hand is still lingering on Lennart's shoulder. I'm not jealous, it's just a bit weird. He tears away from him and quickly walks out of the building.

"What the fuck was that?" he asks me. "What was what?" "The way he touched me. Did you not see that?" "I did." Of course I did.

We're waiting for the bus. I quickly text my history teacher, Mr. Thijs, that I'm in an emergency and will be out of class for a few minutes. He sends me a plain thumbs-up.

The bus arrives. Lennart and I say our goodbyes. Apparently, his way of platonically communicating a goodbye is kissing people's foreheads.