One Shot Book (Danti/Septiplier)

Confident

~ Septiplier One Shot ~

2476 Words

Jack's been tormented by the schools bad boy, Mark, for almost a full year, and just when he tries to put his foot down, the boy makes him crumble...
* Teacher! Jack X Bad Boy! Mark, Age Gap (Mark = 18, Jack = 25) *

Third Person POV:

A crumpled paper ball strike Jack in the face for the 4th time this period. He sighed, looking down at his wooden desk, contemplating whether or not it'd be worth the energy to yell at the source of the object. Deciding it wasn't, Jack went back to grading papers from his other classes. Currently, his 8th period class was busy working independently, leaving Jack, or better know as Mr. McLoughlin, time to catch up on grading. Just like his students, doing work outside of school, like homework, isn't exactly favorable.

Another paper ball hit the teacher's forehead. Blue eyes flickered up from their grading, meeting a mischievous smirk sat at the back of the classroom. Mark Fischbach. The reason Jack counts the clock during 8th period, waiting for the day to end, so he can go home, just like his students do. Sure, Jack loves what he does, he has a passion for his job, but dealing with Mark Fischbach for the last period, well, it's definitely not one of the perks.

"Fischbach," Jack sighed, exasperated. "Meet me after class."

The entire class let out little snickers. Mark's smirk never left his face.

"Oh no," Mark acted surprised, putting his hand on his chest, mouth agape exaggeratively. "Am I in trouble?"

Jack just went back to his grading, he didn't have the confidence, nor the patience, to deal with the school's 'bad boy'. Time moved so slowly in 8th period, it's like the little hands on the round clock hung by the door moved half as fast. It was unbearable. Until finally, the bell rang, sounding throughout the entire room. Sighing, relieved the day was done, Jack watched as his students fled the room, except for one. A tan hand landed on the wooden desk sat in front of the older man. Fuck, Jack thought, looking up to see that signature, mocking smirk that the red haired boy always seem to wear. The man stood up and walked to the door, shutting it before turning back to the troublemaker with another sigh.

"You've gotta stop doing that, Fischbach."

"Doing what, sir?" Mark played innocent, still smirking.

"Disrespecting me in front of all my students," despite how nervous and weak the man always felt under the younger boy's stare, Jack attempted to be confident.

The red haired boy stepped closer, "Y'know, it's cute when you do that."

Nose scrunching up in confusion, Jack questioned the statement, "Cute when I do what?"

"Pretend you're all confident and in charge."

"I am in charge, I-I'm you're teacher," blue eyes watched as the eighteen year old stepped closer, much closer.

Their chests were merely inches apart as Mark let out a breathy chuckle, "Cute. You're always so adorable, standing up in front of the class, blabbering on about math. There's a reason my grades aren't the best, Jack."

"Because you don't pay attention or put effort into your work?" Jack tried, brushing off the informal use of his first name.