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For: @thrill_kill
Request: can you make one where
the reader is new to a school
and gerard is like the "punk
boy" of the school, and they
have to work together on something,
and it can either smut or fluff
(whatever you're comfortable
with tbh)

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Note: Kinda put my own, unconventional spin on the whole 'high school bad boy' character. Because let's face it, not all bad boys are hard-faced, emotionless, brooding males with eyes the colour of rich chocolate and lips so puffy you wanna kiss them forever and ever and a body so perfect that you just-

wait, what was my point, again?

Oh, yes! Not your typical bad boy. A bit different. Hope you like. x

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The nice part about switching schools? It was a chance to start over, re-invent yourself and begin an entirely new chapter.

The bad part? For some undetermined, totally unwarranted reason, virtually every class you attended housed a bothersome teacher who insisted on subjecting you to the worst form of public humiliation known to mankind – standing up in front of the classroom for the customary 'new kid' introduction.

Now, you'd gotten through most of the day virtually unscathed, since the kids in your first couple classes were thoughtful enough to completely ignore you during the introductory speech – something that you thanked your lucky stars for – and all in all seemed like pretty chilled people. They hadn't immediately made you feel like you didn't belong by cross-examining you, or staring at you like you were some kind of alien species, at least.

And then you got to Chemistry class.

That feeling you get when someone is staring at you? Yeah. That. Right from the second your feet crossed the threshold and entered the classroom.

You did the obvious thing, of course – kept your gaze lowered as you walked and focused it anywhere that wasn't someone's face when you stood up front. All was going well, until you slipped up and accidently locked gazes with someone.

And it wasn't just anyone.

It was clear that he was the resident bad boy; leather jacket, combat boots, all black everything... well, all black everything except his hair. Red. Quite possibly the brightest red you'd ever seen; a shade that could only be accurately compared to a Crayola marker.

But his hair was not the thing that caught your attention the most, oh no – the thing that captivated you was the fact that when you looked over at him... he had already been looking at you.

He had already been looking at you, and he was smirking.

You weren't an incredible shy person, per se, but the way he was gazing at you brought about knots in your stomach and made the blood rush to your cheeks, and you had no choice but to look away as quickly as you could.

With your focus now off of the mysterious, really cute guy, you realised that the teacher had stopped talking and was staring at you expectantly. It was clear that he had said something that probably required some sort of a response (or at least an acknowledgment) and you mentally cursed at yourself for letting Crayola distract you.

"Excuse me?" you said, awkwardly shifting your feet on the tiles.

"I said that we're glad to have you join us, and I hope you'll be happy in this class," the teacher – Mr Owens – repeated with a friendly smile.

"Oh, thank you," you muttered, mustering up a grin of your own.

Mr Owens extended a hand towards the back of the class. "There's an empty seat second row from the back, next to Gerard."

Moving your gaze in the direction that he pointed out, you searched for who your bench partner was and – oh.

Crayola.

Nice one, universe.

For some reason, your hands were trembling slightly as you made your way to the back of the class, and you frowned down at them, clutching the notebook you were holding in an attempt to get the shaking to stop.

You'd been so focused on calming yourself down that you hadn't realised that you'd long since arrived at the bench, and Crayola was watching you with a tilted head and an amused look on his face.

"Hi," he said, snapping you out of your trance.

Your head rose instantaneously at the sound of his voice, which was much softer and friendlier than you'd expected it to be. Somehow finding your own voice, you got a reply out.

"Hi."

"I'm Gerard," he introduced, placing an open hand on his chest and once again tossing you a smirk, "But you knew that."

With an awkward laugh, you sat yourself down on the stool, slinging your backpack onto the bench-top. "(Y/N)."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)," he said smoothly, darting his tongue out and letting it run over his lips. Lips – which you noticed – that were almost as red as his hair.

You gave him a genuine smile, suddenly feeling not as anxious about being new as you had earlier. "Yeah, you too."

Mr Owens went around the class, then, handing out procedure booklets for the experiment you would be conducting that lesson.

"The person next to you will be your lab partner for the rest of the year, and there's no switching seats from here on out," the teacher explained as he went along, "So I hope you chose wisely."

He approached your bench, slowly handing booklets to you and your new partner. He took a moment to stop and look at you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head once before looking at Gerard briefly, expression changing.

Gerard glared back at him and yanked the booklet from his hand, giving him the finger as he turned and walked away.

Confused, you turned to the redhead, pointing after Owens. "What was that about?"

"He hates me," Gerard stated simply, pursing his lips and shrugging, "Thinks I'm a, quote, 'bad seed'." He made animated faces as he impersonated the teacher, getting a giggle from you.

Proud of himself for getting you to laugh, Gerard turned his entire body to face you. "I'm actually surprised that he put you next to me. Assigning a hot girl as my lab partner is not something I woulda expected from Richard."

His shameless flirting caught you off guard, and you had to pretend to busy yourself with removing stationery from your backpack so that he couldn't see your red face.

"Why does he think you're a bad seed?" you asked, shifting the attention from yourself to him, "I mean, there must be a reason?"

Gerard ran his tongue along his teeth and shrugged, picking up one of your pens and twirling it around his fingers. "Personally, I think it's just because I wear all black and dye my hair and have the whole 'punk rock, bad boy' aesthetic going on. That's my theory."

He creased his brow and looked up thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "But, I mean it could also be because I bubble-wrapped his car last year. Or because that one time he caught me smoking, I put the cigarette out on his tie. Oh, actually, it's definitely because I hooked up with his daughter. But in my defence," he arched his brows and raised his hands, "None of that was my fault. Technically."

Cocking one brow, you smiled lazily. "Lemme guess? He interfered in your business, and you were just returning the favour?"

"Exactly!" Gerard's eyes lit up and he smiled widely at you, before biting his bottom lip and reaching forward to 'boop' your nose. "I like you."

"Alright!" Mr Owens called out, gathering the attention of the entire class, "Let's do a quick walkthrough."

You listened to the teacher drone on about customary lab safety precautions, laughing quietly every time Gerard would mumble a backhanded comment, and once Mr Owens had finished running through the experiment, you began setting up the necessary equipment.

"It's a fairly simple experiment," you commented, slipping on your safety goggles and skimming over the procedure booklet once more, "Just testing for precipitates."

"Precipitation?" Gerard cocked his head and frowned. "Like, rain?"

Choking on the air in your throat as you tried to supress your laughter, you shook your head. "No, precipitates. In science, that's the solid stuff that gathers at the bottom of the test tube when you mix certain solutions together."

Gerard's confusion quickly dissipated and was replaced with a sly smirk. "I know what precipitates are. I mean, hello, I'm in AP Chem. I just wanted to see if you're hotter when you talk science. My conclusion: you are."

Finding a surge of confidence all of a sudden, you squinted your eyes and looked at Gerard. "Ya know, if you spent as much time actually doing the experiment as you are spending flirting with me, we probably woulda finished already."

"Would you consider it, though?" he raised one brow, starting to decant some ammonium hydroxide into one of the test tubes.

"Consider what?"

"Going on a date with me?"

Before your brain could even begin to process the question and formulate a response, the sight of the test tube overflowing caught your eye, and you gasped.

"Gerard, the tube!"

"What? OH SHIT!"

The redhead scrambled to find some paper towels to clean up with and in the process of hopping off of the stool somehow managed to knock over the bromothymol blue, staining the white bench a dark blue colour.

The commotion caught the attention of everyone else in the room, especially Mr Owens, who looked on disapprovingly.

"What happened?"

Gerard, irritated at himself for spilling the chemicals and upset over the fact that some spilled on his jacket, snapped back a reply. "What does it look like, genius? The chemicals spilt."

Owens folded his arms. "They spilt or you spilled them?"

"Suck my dick, Richard."

~

"I can't believe I'm in here. I didn't even do anything wrong..."

Gerard, lounging comfortable in his usual seat with his legs propped up on the desk in front of him, looked at you in excitement. "Welcome, princess! Is this your first time?"

Grinding your teeth, you glared at the redhead. "Yes, and it's all your fault!"

"Hey, that teacher DESERVED to be cussed out, okay?" Gerard scoffed, jutting a thumb over his shoulder.

"No, he really didn't!" you argued, voice high. Letting out a loud groan, you dropped your head in your hands. "I had plans for after school and you just ruined it, you fucking Crayola!"

Gerard's brows arched in surprise. "Oh, so we're already on a nicknaming basis? Awesome."

He laughed as you made an impolite hand gesture, and shifted his chair closer to yours.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What question?" you hissed impatiently, pissed off beyond belief.

"Will you go out with me?"

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. "Are you kidding me? After you got me thrown into detention? No fucking way."

Gerard stayed silent and thought for a second. "So you're saying that if I hadn't gotten you thrown in here, you would have said yes?"

You stared at him, unblinking, for a long while before eventually answering. "I guess now we'll never know, huh, Crayola?"

"We'll see about that."

"Crayons aren't my type."

Another goddamned smirk.

"Don't worry, princess. I'll turn you into a Crayola, too. Just you wait."

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Thank you for reading x