Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (Yandere! Attack on Titan various x Reader)

Chapter Seventeen

Fee-fi-fo-fum you better run and hide...

(Y/N)'s tired eyes widened at the paper slapped down on the desk in front of her, a clear "F" written and circled in red pen glaring back at her. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and blinked rapidly to clear the tears that were starting to prick at her eyes.

But I studied so hard... (Y/N) stared at the grade in disbelief then turned her gaze on the short teacher that continued slamming papers down on his students' desks. His back was turned but, even when he swiveled around to walk back to his desk, his silver eyes never made contact with her watery (eye color) ones.

"You brats all did sh*tty on the last test. I am more disappointed in you than usual." The ravenette coolly said, taking a seat and leaning back in the chair at his desk. His steely glare finally met (Y/N)'s, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The poor girl broke eye contact and stared at her failed exam. At least others did badly. Maybe it was just a tricky test this time around. I'll just study harder next time.

Yet, she couldn't shake the image of the slight smirk playing on his lips out of her brain. Why did Mr. Ackerman look so smug for a moment? Did I imagine it or did he look happy that I failed?

(Y/N) found it hard to concentrate on the lesson, too distracted by her own negative thoughts. She remembered walking out of his classroom yesterday feel confident in her answers. Sure, she wasn't positive that all of the questions were correctly answered, but she was so sure that she would get, at the very least, a "B". Yet, the "F" she hadn't expected in the slightest sat there in the corner of her pathetic test, mocking her stupidity.

When the bell rang, (Y/N) was more than happy to flee the classroom, but Mr. Ackerman's sharp tone rang out across the classroom before she could even finish packing up her items, "Everyone that received a failing grade- an "F" for the stupid brats that don't understand simple concepts- are required to schedule an afterschool tutoring session. You can do so through email or stay behind and do so now."

Although (Y/N)'s heart sank at the announcement, she was glad that he gave the option of emailing him instead of suffering through the humiliation of going up to his desk while the rest of the students left. The other students who had failed must have agreed with her sentiments, as Mr. Ackerman had not a single teenager stop by his desk. (Y/N) wasn't looking forward to a mandatory tutoring session, especially with the way Mr. Ackerman acted toward her, but she was hoping it would improve her grades.

(Y/N) couldn't find it in herself to concentrate in Science class, even with Hanji bustling around the classroom and ranting excitedly about something or other. The girl simply fidgeted with her pencil distractedly, a downcast expression on her face. She shut down any conversation Marco attempted to start up, despite the sharp stabs of guilt each time the freckled boy looked down dejectedly at each rejection.

Suddenly, an actual stabbing pain erupted in her arm and the girl snapped to attention, her hand instinctively reaching for her injury and a yelp escaping her lips. Rubbing at the sore spot, she met amused light brown eyes and a signature smirk, the boy in question twirling a pencil in his fingers as his smirk grew wider at her realization.

"Jean-" Before (Y/N) could scold him, he cut her off. "(Y/N) you should really pay attention in class. We're your partners after all. If you don't do your part of the work, you'll drag us down too."

(Y/N) lowered her head, guilt seeping into her skin as she recognized the truth in his words. A soft hand was gently laid on her shoulder, a thumb rubbing comforting circles on her skin. The girl's eyes peeked open, surprised at the rough boy's uncharacteristic gentleness, only to realize the freckled sweetheart was the owner of the hand, not the hot-headed male.