Foreign Exchange Student
Maximoff!Reader x Peter Parker
Word Count: 1950ish
Warnings: Bullying, Fighting, like three curse word
Prompt: “You’re my new exchange student and I don’t think that you can speak that much English so I’m totally trying to explain things to you with a lot of hand gestures and dances and… Oh, you’re fluent? I totally knew that.” AU
A/N: I saw this prompt by @eiqhties and immediately thought of this. Hope you enjoy and I swear I’ll write for more people other than Peter Parker.
Peter had woken up with an anxious feeling that something was going to happen today. And here he sat in first period with the same feeling. The thoughts of what could be causing this feeling clouded his mind as his classmates trickled in. Did he forget his homework at his house? Or did he forget to get Aunt May something? Was it an anniversary? He could not think of any reason he would have this feeling to save his life.
“Peter… Peter… Peter!” Peter jerked in his seat. His hand inadvertently knocked off one of his books to the ground with a thud.
“Yes Mr. Warren?” he finally responded as he went down and pick up his book.
“I hope you don’t mind,” by the tone of the teacher’s voice, he really didn’t care, “but you’re going to show around the new foreign exchange student today. She has all your classes so all you have to do is lead her to her next class. Go to the office now, please, and show her to this class,” the teacher dismissed Peter with a wave of his hand.
Peter was relieved that he got something to take his mind off the endless possibilities to cause him to be anxious. He reached the office right as the warning bell rang. He waited couple minutes outside the office door before the door opened. Peter looked up and his breath caught. She was beautiful.
Today was the day, the day that you were being forced to go to school. Your sister and brother both wanted you to get the education they never had, even though it’s not like you needed it. They said it was for you to have some normalcy in your life, but let’s be honest, nothing in your life is normal when you have live with the Avengers. They still insisted on it and since you were the youngest, they practically forced you. So, here you were, standing outside of Midtown High. It’s not right next to the tower but it’s not too far away, making the perfect school you could go to without drawing attention to yourself.
Stepping inside the building, you went inside the office, standing awkwardly in the background. The lady at the desk was at least sixty, giving off the of ‘I’d give anything to not be here’ vibe. Cautiously stepping forward, she turned her beady eyes to you, her look was one of distaste.
“What do ya need?” her voice was scratchy and rough, giving you goose bumps.
“I, uh, I’m a new student. I need to know where to go,” your Russian accented voice was quiet, as usual.
“Name?” the lady said, turning to the computer, ready to look you up.
“Y/N Fedorov,” the team had given you a fake last name so you wouldn’t be bombarded with people and paparazzi every day. You were just lucky you were one of the lesser known Maximoffs.
“Huh, your first class is with Mr. Jackson. He said he sent someone to collect you, they should be outside.” Happy to be able to get out of the room, you left quickly.
Opening the door to the outside, you saw what you presumed was your guide. The boy was standing across the room, leaning against the wall. There were doors to your right, leading to the outside and halls to left. When you observed the boy, you notice he had chocolate brown hair and he was wearing a grey sweater with collared shirt underneath. At the sound of the door opening, the boy looked up at you, causing your eyes to meet. His eyes were the prettiest brown you’ve seen. He started to walk towards you, which only took a couple of steps before he was close enough to talk to you.
“Uh, hi, my name is Peter,” his words were drawn out, articulating each syllable and his arms were pointing to him when he said his name. You got to admit, it was kind of funny, seeing him trying so hard to make sure you understood him. “I’ll,” point to him, “show you,” he motioned to the halls to your left and a point to you, “to your classes.” He looked like he was trying to think of a motion to signify class when you decided to stop him.
“Thank you for showing me around. It’s really sweet of you,” the look on Peter’s face was priceless when he heard you speak in your perfect English. A beat passed before Peter’s face flushed red. You tried to ease his embarrassment by smiling at him but it only made his face more red.
“I-I’m so so sorry. Oh God. That w-was probably so offensive,” his expression was a mix of embarrassment and fright. “I can’t b-“
The bell sounding made us both jump. Peter looked like he was going to try and apologize again but you cut him off.
“Shouldn’t we be in class right now. For a guide, you’re pretty bad at getting me places,” to show him that you didn’t really mean it, you sent him a small smile was sent his way. “My name is Y/N, by the way.”
“I’m Peter, but you already knew that,” he gave a nervous chuckle. “And, I’m going to stop making a fool of myself and show you to Mr. Jackson’s class.”
During first period, the only thoughts in Peter’s head were a combination of ‘How the hell could I be so stupid?’ and ‘She’s so pretty and her accent is so beautiful.’ The only good thing to come out of that catastrophe is that the anxious feeling is gone. That’s one big thing off his chest.
The bell sounded, causing Peter to come back to the real world. He bent down under his desk to pack up all his books when a shadow fell over him. Looking up, he saw Y/N standing over him, books already packed. She lent him a hand, helping him up so they were both ready to leave.
“You have all my classes, so all you have to do is follow me everywhere until you get the hang of it. Sound good?” He said as the two of you were walking out of the class, into the sea of students. “Also, I got to pick up some of my books from my locker. I hope you don’t mind making a pit stop.”
“Yeah, sounds easy enough,” She replied. “And don’t worry about it, where you go, I’ll go.” The trek to Peter’s locker was short, filled with comfortable silence. When the two arrived, a thought came to Peter as he closed the locker door.
“Hey, to make up the fiasco this morning, would you, uh, be interested in getting coffee with me after school? There’s a cool place a couple blocks from here. I mean it’s totally OK if you can’t.”
“Peter, calm down. I would love to go, I just need to ask my sister.” By now, you guys have moved on and are making your way to your next class.
“That’s great. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your parents?” Y/N stayed quiet, making Peter nervous. “I mean, you’re a foreign exchange student, so, who lets their child travel to a different country?”
“Well, I-“ she was abruptly cut off when Peter was slammed into the locker. He should’ve known it was coming, but he was too distracted by Y/N. His shoulder hit the locker with a bang, instantly, everyone had their eyes on the commotion. With Peter’s full back to the wall, he could see that it was Flash that was actually holding him.
“Hey there, Flash,” Peter gasped out, causing Flash to shove him harder. “Come on man, let’s not do this.”
“Why afraid you’ll get beat, punk?” Flash all but snarled. He raised his fist, and was about to swing down when a voice called out from behind him.
“Hey! Pick on someone your own size.”
When you were interrupted by this Flash shoving Peter into the lockers, you were surprised to say the least. After all, Peter was a pretty nice guy, he shouldn’t be getting bullied like this. Then again, no one deserves to be bullied. When Flash raised his fist to hit Peter, that’s when you decided to do something about it.
“Hey!” your call out made the bully stop. “Pick on someone your own size.” Flash let go of Peter and turned towards you, his hulking stance towering over you. He seized you up, his eyes looking over you as if they were determining if you were a threat or not. You stood awkwardly as his stance relaxed ever so slightly after a couple beats of staring you down. His facial expression was now flirty, his stance completely relaxed.
“And who are you, sweetheart?” the way he said ‘sweetheart’ angered you, especially since he said it in way that was supposed to make you feel inferior. You scowled at him, giving him your best glare.
“I’m Y/N. And I’m not your sweetheart,” the anger you were feeling caused your accent to thicken.
“Ah, so you’re this loser’s sweetheart? Figures,” he motions back to Peter who was watching the encounter with fearful eyes. When yours and his eyes met though, he knew you had it covered.
“I’m no one’s sweetheart. And I bet you won’t be saying that after I kick your ass,” you forced yourself to relax, make it seem like you weren’t bothered by him at all. There was frustration on Flash’s face, causing you to smirk.
“Now, I don’t normally hit girls, but I’m going to make an exception. Especially since you need to be put in your place.” His hands were now balled into fists at his side, he looked predatory.
“Ha I’d like to see you try.” It seemed as if questioning him made him break. Quicker than you realized, he lunged at you, causing you to duck to the right. With your back to the lockers, you looked to see Peter looking like he wanted to step in. You sent him a wink before looking back at Flash. His attention was on you, his fist raised, coming down towards your head. Again, you dodged to the right, making Flash’s hand collide with the locker, with a bang. You felt a little bit of sympathy for the guy.
“Ah, you bitch.” Sympathy is gone. He was cradling his hand until he decided to try gain back some pride by raising his fist once more. This time, his movements were sloppy, so you sidestepped him with ease. He stumbled behind you, almost falling into the crowd.
“You know, for a jock, you’re terrible at fighting,” his head whipped towards you. “And yeah, I am a bitch.” Too fast for him to react, your fist swung through the air, hitting his face with a smack. Flash went down like a sack of potatoes, unconscious. You looked up at Peter and saw him staring at you with a look of awe. You smiled at him and took a step towards him.
“Teacher!” immediately, everyone scattered, leaving you, Peter, and Flash who was still on the ground. The teacher looked at you three, assessing, his face screwed up in anger. There was a beat before he raised one finger, pointing at you.
“Office. NOW!” his voice echoed in the hallway. You grabbed your bag that was discarded before the fight.
“Hey, Peter, I’ll meet you after school,” you waved back at him, as the teacher drug you to the office, leaving Peter standing in shock with an unconscious Flash at his feet.