PLEASE REMAIN SEATED ✶ MARTIN EDWARDS
synopsis: In which Martin discovers that you’re alot less patient than you look, and you discover that detention is somehow worse with company.
genre: detention AU, troublemaker!martin, classpresident/hermione!reader, classmates, enemies to lovers, kissing, angst if u squint, fluff, martin is lwk a menace, school discipline
wc: 3,5k MASTERLIST
note: troublemaker martin? yes please. wow im active two posts in two days who am i
The high pitched engine sound of the racing car Martin was driving activated his adrenaline. The race car roared past, its engine screaming as it accelerated down the straightaway. The tires screeched against the asphalt as Martin took the corner too fast. The deep growl of the engine echoed around the track while drowning out everything else. He smirked, nobody was getting past him. The finish line was right there, he could see it. Just a little furth-
BAM.
Martin jolted upright.
‘’Mr. Martin Edwards.’’
The classroom slowly came into focus, rows of desks, fluorescent lights and a teacher standing over him with crossed arms and a stern expression. A few students snickered. Martin blinked twice, still trying to figure out when in god’s name the racetrack had turned into a classroom.
‘’Would you care to explain why you are sleeping in my lesson?’’
The history teacher, Mr. Kang, adjusted his glasses and fixed Martin with the same disappointed look he always wore whenever Martin did something he wasn’t supposed to. His neatly pressed dress shirt was spotless as usual, and not a single strand of hair seemed out of place.
A sigh escaped Martin.
Not again.
Martin leaned back against his chair, folding his arms and placing one leg over the other. He tilted his head and slowly, his default smirk crept back up. ‘’You know, if your lessons were a little more interesting-‘’
Students watched Martin as he talked, they were all entertainted. Some were on the verge of laughter, He really brought the classroom back alive. Mr. Kang pinched the bridge of his nose.
‘’Friday. Detention.’’
‘’Worth it.’’
A few students really snorted this time, earning themselves a glare from the teacher.
The bell finally rang forty minutes later. Chairs scraped against the floor as students packed their bags and rushed for the door. Martin was halfway out of his seat when he heard the teacher’s voice again.
‘’You stay behind.’’
Groaning, he slung his backpack over one shoulder and made his way to the teacher’s desk. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed someone else was standing there. You.
The same classmate who always sat near the front, answered questions correctly and somehow managed to stay on every teacher’s good side. You were a role model to the other students, everyone wished to reach your level of academic excellence.
Your notebooks were always neat and organized. You used pastel highlighters for every lesson, your posture was upright and you appeared to pay attention to every detail the teacher had explained.
It showed in your uniform too. Every button was fastened correctly, your shirt was neatly tucked in and your tie sat exactly where it was supposed to. There was not a wrinkle in sight.
In contrast, Martin looked like he had gotten dressed in a hurry- or simply did not care. His tie hung loosely around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt were undone and his sleeves were rolled up unevenly. He hadn’t even bothered to put on his blazer most days of the week. If the school had hung up a poster on ‘’how to not wear your uniform’’ he was fairly certain he would be the prime example.
Even now while Martin was trying not to look completely miserable, you stood with your arms crossed and an irritated expression on your face. Like being kept after class was the most inconvenient thing that had happened to you all week. Martin couldn’t help but smirk. For someone who always seemed so put together, you looked surprisingly close to losing your patience.
Actually…
Now that he thought about it, hadn’t you been arguing with Mr. Kang before he had fallen asleep? The memory slowly came back to him.
“You interrupted me three times during the lesson, y/n.”
“Because you marked my answer wrong.”
“It was wrong.”
“It wasn’t.”
Several students had exchanged glances. Martin vaguely remembered resting his head against his desk around that point.
“I checked the textbook, it had clearly implied that it was after the 1800s, if you make mistakes like this-.”
“I’m telling you that your behavior is inappropriate. Albeit being an intelligent student, this behavior won’t be tolerated in my lessons, it’s completely insufferable.’’
Your jaw had tightened.
“So I’m being punished for correcting a mistake?”
“You’re being punished for arguing.”
The classroom had gone completely silent. Nobody argued with teachers. At least, nobody except Martin.
“You weren’t listening to what i was saying.”
“And you aren’t listening to me now.”
Martin remembered hearing a few gasps before the dream had taken over completely. Now, standing in front of Mr. Kang’s desk, he watched the scene replay itself in his head. No wonder you looked annoyed.
“You and Martin will be responsible for cleaning the classroom after school on friday.”
Your head snapped toward Mr. Kang.
“What?”
“The entire classroom.”
The irritation on your face somehow deepened. Martin meanwhile, had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. Of all the reasons to get assigned cleaning duty, arguing over a textbook answer had to be the stupidest one he had ever heard.
You slowly turned your head towards Martin and glared. This cannot seriously be happening right now.
Friday had arrived pretty fast, faster than Martin expected.
The week had slipped by in a blur of lunchtime soccer matches, late night gaming sessions and aimless trips to the convenience store with his friends after school. Between trying not to fail his quizzes and finding new ways to annoy his classmates, Martin had almost forgotten about the cleaning duty altogether.
The last bell of the day echoed through the halls, followed by the familiar rush of students escaping the building. Laughter drifted in through the open windows as clubs gathered outside and groups of friends headed towards the gates.
Meanwhile, Martin found himself dragging a mop bucket down the deserted third floor hallway.
The school felt strangely different after hours. Without hundreds of students filling the corridors, every footstep echoed. Classrooms sat dark and empty behind closed doors and the golden evening sunlight stretched across the floor through the windows.
Martin stopped outside class 2-3 and pushed the door open.
Ah great, you’re there.
A broom rested against the desk beside you and a pair of yellow cleaning gloves had been tossed carelessly onto one of the chairs. Martin assumed by the expression on your face, that you had ought to be anywhere else than in this classroom. Doing homework, he reckoned.
Martin leaned against the doorway, then cleared his throat. You had slowly looked up and gave him a glare, that glare had been plastered on your face since he welcomed himself in.
Slowly, you straightened.
“Do you mind?”
Martin blinked.
“Do i mind what?”
“Standing there.”
His eyes flickered to the cleaning supplies lined up against the wall.
“Oh.” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve already started?”
You stared at him, the silence stretched. Surprisingly that was worse than if you had yelled. Martin pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped inside.
Being alone with someone wasn’t a big deal to Martin. He could talk to just about anyone. If they didn’t feel like talking back, he would usually find a way to get a reaction out of them anyway.
You however, seemed determined to pretend he didn’t exist. Without a word, you returned to wiping down the desks.
Martin watched for a moment before letting his backpack slide onto a nearby chair. Mr. Kang had left a list on the teacher’s desk, complete with a schedule and enough instructions to make it seem like they were preparing the classroom for inspection rather than cleaning it for an hour.
His eyes skimmed over the paper.
Sweep the floor.
Wipe down desks.
Empty trash bins.
Clean windows.
Martin groaned. “You know, I think this might actually violate some sort of child labor law.”
That was shortly filled by silence, he looked up. You were still cleaning.
“We should be getting paid for this.”
Still, no response. Martin frowned.
“You always this friendly?”
That got your attention. You placed the cloth down carefully before turning toward him.
“No.”
“Good.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“Good?”
“Yeah.” Martin said, grabbing a broom from the corner of the room. “For a second i thought you were only acting like this because of me.”
The look you gave him answered that question immediately. He also fought the urge to not laugh.
Martin turned back to the broom in his hands, still fighting a grin. He had spent months sitting in the same classroom as you and somehow never realized how stubborn you were. Probably because you rarely spoke. Scratch that, you did. Though, every conversation you ever had before this involved answering a teacher’s question.
Either way, he was starting to understand why Mr. Kang looked exhausted.
If Martin was annoying before, being trapped in an empty classroom with him for an hour somehow made it worse. You could feel his presence even when he wasn’t speaking.
The lazy way he held the broom and the occasional tapping of his foot against the floor. The fact that he seemed to find the entire situation amusing, it was irritating.
Most people would have been at least a little embarrassed. Not Martin. No, Martin looked perfectly comfortable standing in a classroom after school with cleaning supplies in his hands. Which was probably why he ended up in situations like this so often. To him, making unecessary remarks was worth it even if he had to stay at school and scrub desks till the sun set.
You wiped down another desk trying your best to ignore him. It wasn’t really working. For years, teachers had compared students to him as a warning.
Don’t be like Martin.
Don’t talk during lessons like Martin.
Don’t hand your assignments in late like Martin.
Don’t sleep in class like Martin.
You heard it so many times that you practically built an entire image of him without ever having a proper conversation. And somehow, after spending less than ten minutes alone with him, he was already proving every assumption correct. A chair scraped against the floor behind you. You closed your eyes.
Please don’t start talking again.
To your surprise, he didn’t.
The classroom settled into an uneasy silence broken only by the occasional squeak of a chair leg against the floor or the swish of a cloth across a desk. Sunlight filtered through the large windows, bathing the room in a warm golden glow that made the dust floating through the air visible.
You focused on the task in front of you, wiping down the last row of desks with more force than necessary. It should have been easy to ignore him, you spent months doing exactly that.
Martin wasn’t hard to spot in class. Between the the constant comments, the laughter, and the endless lectures he seemed to collect from teachers, he practically demanded attention. Most days however, you found it easier to pretend he wasn’t there at all. It saved time and energy. Most importantly, it saved you from getting dragged into whatever trouble he had gotten himself into that week.
Pretending someone didn’t exist became significantly harder when you were trapped in the same classroom after school.
You glanced up before you could stop yourself.
Martin was standing near the windows, broom in hand. More so leaning on it. Cleaning appeared to be the last thing on his mind as he stared out at the school grounds below.
“Are you planning on sweeping today?”
He turned his head.
“I am sweeping.”
You looked pointedly at the perfectly clean patch of floor beneath him.
“Right.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. That expression infuriated you more than anything he had said all afternoon.
With a sigh you returned your attention to the desks, determined not to let him distract you. The problem was that now you’d started paying attention, it became impossible not to notice things.
Like the fact that he had actually started sweeping after your comment. Or the fact that he hadn’t complained once. Or the fact that despite acting completely unserious all the time, he somehow managed to finish his half of the work faster than you expected.
Your blood boiled, it was frustrating beyond measure. What made it even worse was that this wasn’t the end of it.
As part of the school’s disciplinary program, students who received disciplinary action were required to complete four consecutive weeks of after school service. At the time, the announcement had barely registered. You had been too irritated by the punishment itself to care about the details.
Four weeks sounded manageable in theory, in practice however, it felt like a prison sentence. It took up too much of your time, when that precious time could’ve been filled with studies.
The first friday had disappeared surprisingly quickly. Not because the work had been enjoyable, and certainly not because the company had been. Rather, most of your energy had been spent trying to ignore Martin’s existence. That proved significantly harder than expected.
By the second friday, you found yourself noticing things you would have preferred not to notice. The way he somehow managed to make even the most mundane tasks look effortless. The fact that he talked to practically everyone in the hallways, regardless of whether they were in his class or not. The strange contradiction between the image teachers painted of him and the person you actually found yourself cleaning alongside every week.
It annoyed you.
A lot.
The version of Martin that existed in your head had always been simple.
Lazy.
Disruptive.
A constant headache for every teacher unfortunate enough to have him in class. That version was much easier to dislike. The real Martin however, was far more difficult to make sense of.
Somewhere between the first friday and the second, you started noticing things that didn’t fit the image you spent months building of him.
For one, he was far more observant than he let on.
Most people assumed he wasn’t paying attention. It was an easy conclusion to reach when he spent half his lessons asleep and the other half getting scolded by teachers. Yet there had been moments during cleaning duty where he casually brought up things you said days earlier, details you barely remembered mentioning yourself. Once, after you spent an entire afternoon unusually quiet, he asked if you were worried about an upcoming exam. The question had caught you so off guard that you nearly dropped the stack of books in your hands.
You still hadn’t figured out how he had noticed.
Then there was the fact that he was unexpectedly considerate. Not in obvious ways.
Martin wasn’t the type to offer grand gestures or dramatic displays of kindness. Instead, it showed itself in small moments that seemed to happen when he thought nobody was paying attention. Like the time he’d taken over carrying the heavier cleaning supplies without mentioning it.
You had reached for the bucket at the same time he did.
“I can carry it.”
“So can i.”
You expected an argument. Instead, he’d simply taken it from your hands.
“I know.”
Then he walked away before you could respond.
Or when he opened a classroom window because you’d complained about how stuffy the room felt. Or the way he always stayed until the very end, even when he finished his own tasks long before you did.
The worst part was that he never seemed to expect recognition for any of it. Somehow it made those moments harder to ignore.
And then there was his smile.
You hated thinking about his smile more than anything else. It wasn’t the lazy grin he wore whenever he was about to say something annoying, nor the smirk that usually appeared after he successfully gotten on your nerves. It was the one that surfaced when he forgot to be difficult. The one that reached his eyes and softened his features for a split second before disappearing again.
Martin wasn’t sure when things had changed. One day, cleaning duty had been a punishment. The next, he found himself looking forward to Fridays.
Not because he enjoyed sweeping floors or wiping windows. He definitely didn’t. But between the arguments, the complaints and the endless back and forth, spending time with you had become the best part of his week.
Which was a problem, a very serious problem.
Because every friday seemed to make it harder to ignore the feeling settling in his chest whenever you laughed at something he said. Harder to ignore the way his eyes automatically searched for you the second he walked into a room. Harder to ignore how disappointed he felt whenever the hour ended and you both went your separate ways.
By the final week of cleaning duty, the classroom felt different.
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows in long golden strips, painting the empty desks in warm shades of orange. Neither of you had spoken much during the last few minutes. The work was finished. The classroom was spotless. Still, neither of you made any move toward the door.
Martin leaned against one of the desks, absentmindedly turning a marker between his fingers.
You were sitting on top of a desk across from him. For once, neither of you were arguing. Neither of you were cleaning. Neither of you seemed particularly eager to leave.
“We’re done.”
The words left your mouth quietly. Martin glanced around the room.
“Looks weird.”
“What does?”
“The classroom.”
You frowned.
“It looks exactly the same.”
“No.”
His gaze drifted back to you.
“Not really.”
Something in his expression made your chest tighten. Silence settled between the two of you once more.
Outside, the school grounds had almost completely emptied. The distant noise of students heading home had faded, leaving the classroom wrapped in a strange sort of stillness. The room felt larger and smaller all at once.
You looked down at your hands, anywhere but him. That proved impossible, unfortunately. Because no matter where your eyes landed, you remained painfully aware of his presence. The sound of his breathing. The scrape of his shoe against the floor. The fact that he was close enough to reach out and touch.
Your stomach twisted.
A few weeks ago, you would’ve given anything to avoid being stuck in a classroom with Martin. The realization landed heavily in your chest.
It felt like there was something hanging between the two of you, something neither of you had managed to put into words.
And judging by the look in Martin’s eyes, he felt it too.
The air suddenly felt warmer.
Your pulse quickened.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew one of you should say something.
When you looked up, you found him already watching you. This time, he didn’t look away or cover it with a joke. The teasing grin that usually appeared whenever he caught you staring was absent, replaced by something quieter. The moment stretched for long, neither of you seeming particularly eager to break it.
Martin took a small step forward, and your breath caught for reasons you didn’t care to examine too closely. The distance between you wasn’t large to begin with, but somehow it felt noticeably smaller now. His eyes flickered briefly across your face before settling back on yours, and something about the gesture made your pulse quicken. For the first time since detention neither of you seemed interested in arguing, and that alone felt unfamiliar.
He lifted his hand gently towards your jaw, barely touching it at first. He looked afraid, like you were some sort of sacred object he refused to shatter.
Your breath hitched at his touch, he seemed uneasy. Then he gulped.
‘’Can i?’’ He had let those words out softly, you could barely hear it.
You looked into his eyes when you nodded, immediately his lips crashed into yours. Like some sort of reflex, both of his hands cupped your jaw. His thumb brushed over your cheek. He held you so carefully, yet his lips were the opposite. He kissed you like crazy, like his life depended on it. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, your fingers shifted to his chest. It’s nothing like you ever experienced. Every square inch of your body dissolved into his. You pulled him closer to deepen the kiss.
Your veins throbbed and your heart basically exploded. His hands eventually move to your waist as yours reach for the sides of his neck. The sounds were rhythmic. He knew how to lead, it was a given. Martin lead conversations, he lead paths and now he’s guiding you. Your stomach did something weird everytime he had shifted.
Eventually, the kiss broke. You both pulled away, but not far. Not far at all. He was still beyond close, you opened your eyes first. He smiled, and planted a last peck on your lips.
You couldn’t help but laugh, quickly burying your face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. Your arms were still wrapped around him, while his remained firmly around your waist, holding you close.
This felt nice.
✶