#calvin lessons in chemistry

[spaceycat]

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☆˚₊‧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚢, 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚙𝚝.𝟷/𝟺 𐙚₊˚

⋆★⋆ late nights in the laboratory. ⋆★⋆ Part 2.

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: pushing it down and praying by lizzie mcalpine (3:54)

✰ pairing: calvin evans x fem!lab tech!reader

✰ cw: arguing + swearing + calvin is a bit of an uptight dick

✰ word count: 1.3k+

✰ summary: you are new to hastings laboratory, being placed on a search for different materials around the lab. you entered calvin's laboratory without knocking, and arguments ensue.

(IMPORTANT: collaborated with @sammygidd with writing process + planning)

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༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ calvin ⚛︎

It was your first day at the Hastings Laboratory, working as a lab tech. You woke up early, ensuring that everything was perfect - that you wouldn’t be late in the slightest and that you had everything that you needed. Deciding that morning, after packing your bag for the day, that you would curl your hair shortly after eating breakfast, given that there was enough time to do so. You brushed out the smooth curls, pinning them back in place as you grabbed your things, taking a last once-over in the mirror, then heading downstairs. Making sure your cat had food and saying goodbye before walking to the door and leaving shortly afterwards.

You made your way into the parking lot, finding an open parking spot. Taking note of the scientists and secretaries scattered across the way, some making their path into the laboratory building, promptly making your way inside along with them, hearing the lively chatter around you. A taller, leaner man brushing past you, not exactly seeing who it was at first, but you could already tell by the way he pushed past the people on the stairwell, not even muttering an ‘excuse me,’ or a basic apology. It was Calvin Evans - the man that you saw on the front cover of the Scientific American, the proposed chemistry prodigy.

You've read about him, nothing really remarkable about the Dr. Evans besides the fact that he could draw up chemical reactions in a comprehensible way, but couldn’t even muster an apology - the article did say that he was a reserved person after all. And the chemistry prodigy was wearing pajamas to work? You were confused, only for a moment, before brushing it off and heading to the lab that you were supposed to be in… on time. 

Arriving in the smaller, well-lit room filled with older and some younger male scientists, looking at you standing in the doorway. An older man pipes up, “You’re late, sweetheart. You were supposed to be here at seven, on the dot.” Eyes flickering over to the clock that was higher up on the wall, and it read 7:01 - nodding your head, deciding not to retaliate since it was your first day. “Apologies,” you murmured as you walked into the room, setting your notebook on the table, a small distance away from the group of men and their prying eyes.

Before you could even get started on your work, the older guy who ridiculed you said that he had chores for you to do, and when you were done with those, he wanted a cup of coffee. You didn’t even get to mutter a word out, to say you were a lab tech, not a secretary. He didn’t care in the slightest and ushered you away, forcing a clipboard into your hands. Grumbling softly but reluctantly, you moved back out the door and into the hallways of the building, looking at the list that was now in your hands, reading off the items that were needed:

Sulphuric Acid

Methanol

Bunsen Burners

Ribose

Beakers

Coffee

Each item was in a different part of the building, of course it was. You didn’t expect anything less. You made haste, practically running around the building collecting the apparatus needed, checking it off the list as you went. You finally came to the final thing on your list, beakers, which was written to be upstairs. Walking into the first room you could find, your eyes are planted on the clipboard in front of you. Not even bothering to knock, which was your first mistake.

“Did you not see the sign?” The voice went unheard as you looked up from your clipboard, more focused on the task at hand than whoever was talking to you. Your gaze landed on the counter of the lab, finally finding the beakers that you needed. You grabbed the tray, then noticed a man across the room.

“Oh– shit..” You nearly dropped the beakers, “You– shit, sorry.. You scared the hell out of me…” Then a look of recognition, “Oh–.! Oh shit- I mean- sorry, oh your.. Dr. Evans… – pardon me for my language…” 

“No, no.” Waving you off, his eyes now boring into you, “First off, tell me why you are in here, stealing my beakers and not even knocking when I have a sign that says.. do not disturb?” 

“Sorry, I must’ve not seen it.” A small smirk flashed across his face, finding the entire ordeal entertaining, before he cleared his throat. “Well, you're one for apologies, but sorry doesn’t cut it. Why is a secretary stealing my beakers? When I’m not to be disturbed.” “I’m not stealing, I’m simply borrowing for the time being, and I’m not a secretary, Dr. Evans.” His eyebrows knitted together, his arms crossing over his chest, “You’re not a secretary? Then what are you?” “I’m a Lab Tech.” Calvin stifled out a laugh. “I highly doubt that. You look like a secretary with that hair.” He moved closer, noticing your name tag. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you? Stealing on your first day… I’m disappointed, expecting you’d know better as a proposed Lab Tech.”

“Well, I’m not stealing, like I said before. I’ll get these back to you by the end of the day.” “I’ll hold you to that, secretary.” 

You had to refrain from talking back to him, he’s Calvin Evans for christ sake, but god, he found a way to just get under your skin from a singular conversation. You looked down at the tray of beakers as you headed out of his laboratory, noticing that he wrote his initials “C.E” on every single one, charming.

Later that night, you were packing up in your laboratory, ready to head home for the evening, suspecting that every other scientist and secretary already left the building. When you hear a sudden voice come from behind you. “Beakers.” You jumped, turning around. Noticing Calvin. “What?” You regained your composure. “My beakers. Where are they? You told me you’d have them back at the end of the day.” He leaned against the counter, noticing that Calvin was wearing the same clothes he had come into work in that morning, the sleeves rolled up, showing his forearms. A small thought swirling around your head, before realising you were staring dead at his arms, your gaze shifting away.

“Beakers?-- right, right. They’re…” You looked around the laboratory, expecting them to be on one of the many counters in the room. “They’re where?” He looked unimpressed. “They’re in a different lab, one of the locked ones.” “Of course they are.” He sighed, pushing himself off the counter - back turned to you. “I’m sorry– I’ll give them to you tomorrow, they’ll be hard to miss with your initials written onto them.” You joked, he turned around. “This is funny to you?” “You’re getting mad over beakers.” “I trusted you with my beakers, and you have proven yourself not to be worthy once more. That's not surprising.” He let out a breath.

“What’s more surprising is that you’re wearing pajamas to work, Calvin.” His name slipped out of your mouth before you even recognised you did. His eyes shifted a bit, like he was mulling things over. Letting out a hum before speaking again. “These are my running clothes.” “Of course you run.” You mumbled under your breath, eyes diverting away - looking out the window as a crutch. “What was that?--” You cut him off, “Let’s just go home, Dr. Evans. I’ll have your beakers tomorrow.” Grabbing the rest of your things, heading to the door. Calvin followed close behind, basically towering over you as you walked out into the cold air.

“Let’s hope your second day is better than your first.” Calvin walked to the sidewalk, beside you. As you walked to your car, you muttered under your breath, “Dick.” “What?” “Nothing! Night, Dr. Evans... Get home safe.” You plastered a fake smile on your face. He turned away muttering a "Night" in response - your smile immediately dropping as he did. As you got into your car, you knew that you would never get along with Calvin, if it was the last thing you’d do.

[seaside-storm]

LEWIS PULLMAN as CALVIN EVANS Lessons in Chemistry (2023) 1.01

[10ava01]

I NEED all of them biblically🙂‍↕️

[starrvsn]

꒰ ⌕ ꒱ recommended lewis pullman fics! ✧ ੭ pls support these writers !

ROLES: bob ‘robert’ floyd (top gun maverick) rhett abbott (outer range) calvin evans (lesson in chemistry) robert reynolds (thunderbolts*)

✷ includes smut! must 18+ to read! 𝜗𝜚 — my personal fav! — indented text is other recommended fics by the same author!

OVER THE INTERCOM ⠆ i recently got back into reading lewis fics again and its made me realize how amazing these writers are so i thought i would make a rec list out of appreciation as someone who’s been reading ab lewis since 2022 :p

˚⋆𐙚｡ list is regularly updated when i find new fics! & if links aren’t working pls lmk! ⋆𖦹.✧˚

── .✦ also! i may be recommending certain fics but please also check out their blogs! so many of these authors have other amazing pieces just waiting to be read!

BOB FLOYD ⤸

✷ the wingman written by @roosterforme / synopsis: Bob never did this sort of thing. Talking to girls and flirting and romance. It's not that he didn't want to, he just didn't really know how. But you were different in all the right ways, and you made him feel confident enough to try.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ do you wanna make somethin’ out of it written by @theharddeck / synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

⤿ ✷ it’d be a sweet situation a much needed part two! /synopsis: what's better than finding out the WSO you've had a secret crush is the same audio erotica creator that you've been crushing on for months? getting to watch him record new content...and maybe get involved yourself

rodeo written by @sarahsmi13s / synopsis: when your relationship with bob is reveal to the squad, hangman can’t help but wait for bob to stake his claim on you.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ bob from stats written by @attapullman / synopsis: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

⤿ 𝜗𝜚 ✷ bob from pi kapp / synopsis: First he's late to chapter, and now Bob is late to your Stats final. You saved him a seat. But should you also save one for his hobby horse?

never knew i needed a college!bob au until now and it’s honestly changed my life.

✷ unraveled written by @withahappyrefrain / synopsis: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

birds of a feather written by @dearsnow / synopsis: phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

the quiet ones written by @callsigns-haze / synopsis: You surprise the Dagger Squad by revealing your secret to Bob, who shyly but lovingly melts into your kiss as the others watch in shock, as shy guys are your type.

fics i read during my bob floyd binge!

✷ rich in life written by @bloatedandalone04 / synopsis: Bob is known to be the shy, quiet and kinder one of out the whole dagger squad, and he didn’t mind the ‘soft’ reputation one bit, because he knew the real him. The version of himself that came out whenever he got his wife alone, which, luckily for him, was every single night.

✷ it's that simple written by @tropes-and-tales

pepper spray lovers written by @moon-fics / synopsis: You're a well-known bartender at the Hard Deck and friends with most of the pilots who enter through the doors. However, you've caught the eye of one specific weapon systems operator.

𝜗𝜚 the plan written by @geminiwritten / synopsis: the squad are all pretty sure that bob has a thing for you, but you're not convinced, so you hatch a plan to tease him within an inch of his life until he snaps

✷ pretend written by @attapullman / synopsis: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

this was a reread but come on how can i not add this??

RHETT ABBOTT ⤸

✷ good at makin’ bad decisions written by @attapullman / synopsis: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

sugar and spice written by @floydsmuse / synopsis: you and rhett start up the tradition of making a gingerbread house together on christmas eve.

✷ odds are stacked written by @sunlightmurdock / synopsis: In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

✷ whisky sour written by @delopsia

𝜗𝜚 ✷ little lambs and big, bad cowboys written by @lewmagoo / synopsis: in which you find yourself entirely at his mercy

𝜗𝜚 ✷ trouble with books written by @hederasgarden / synopsis: You and Rhett discover a surprising new kink together.  

CALVIN EVANS ⤸

please please me written by @gaygothiccowboy / synopsis: you persuade Calvin to spend a little less time at the lab and a lot more time with you.

(NEW!) ROBERT REYNOLDS ⤸

dance with me written by @callsign-fox

stay with me written by @scarletmika / synopsis: Bob wants to feel useful, to truly be part of the team, but the others don't think he's ready. You take it upon yourself to teach him control, to guide him through. But mistakes will be made, and it might not be possible to keep the darkness from creeping back in once more

the good side written by @cosmictheo / synopsis: bob loves you so much that he slowly begins to transform into a house-husband for you. and he loves it.

⤷ heavenly / synopsis: it's the first time you're wearing your new suit as an official (new) avenger and bob is a little too excited about it.

sneaking around written by @callsign-swan / synopsis: Bob doesn't mean to be sneaking around. But he can't help it. He's got a secret, and he wants to keep it that way. Too bad he's best friends with Yelena Belova.

𝜗𝜚 honey written by @strkly / synopsis: after being off the grid for a while you return to society and meet up with your old friend bucky barnes. unexpectedly you run into someone you never thought you would see again. your high school boyfriend robert reynolds.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ perv!bob written by @undyingdecay

𝜗𝜚 truth will set your free written by @sergeantbuckybarnes synopsis: You are injected with a truth serum during a mission, and when you return to the Watchtower, you must avoid Bob in order not to spill your feelings for him, but this causes Bob to believe he has done something to upset you

control written by @fireinmoonshot / synopsis: Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand.

if anything written by @eyelessfaces / synopsis: no one wants to talk about how close you came to dying, everyone walking on eggshells until bob finds out what really happened and asks why no one trusted him enough to tell the truth; you both know the reason involves your mutual feelings.

dreamwalker written by @roanofarcc /synopsis: you use your dreamwalking abilities to try to soothe the storm in bob’s head. 

show some loves to the authors ᡣ𐭩 recommendations by jes!

[ewmily]

calvin evans ⤿ lessons in chemistry ( 1x01 )

i have nothing appropriate to say

[fairyrchive]

I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM

[kaizsche]

CALVIN EVANS & ELIZABETH ZOTT LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY (2023)

[deakyjoe]

Lewis Pullman invented boyfriendism

[midniqhtt]

𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬

masterlist • 06/04/25

ROBERT ‘BOB’ REYNOLDS TWO

ROBERT ‘BOB’ FLOYD

RHETT ABBOTT

MILES MILLER

⭑.ᐟ druxy I @noncrush

when you get hired at the el royale, you don’t imagine you’ll be staying there long. you don’t imagine you’ll find the love of your life, either. as it turns out, you’re wrong two for two.

⭑.ᐟ hotel el royale I @astraldelights

After a long journey, you only had one place to rest between borders

⭑.ᐟ i only have eyes for you I @/lewmagoo

CALVIN EVANS

⭑.ᐟ a fraction of a second I @voidsxntry

one morning walk. one wrong step

⭑.ᐟ please please me I @gothicgaycowboy

you persuade Calvin to spend a little less time at the lab and a lot more time with you.

⭑.ᐟ request I @moon-fics

BEN MEARS

⭑.ᐟ request I @lewmagoo

⭑.ᐟ whistle in the dark I @versipelleshhh

nature always has a way seeking to balance herself out, when a vampiric outbreak clouds a small town she sends a fur covered blessing

⭑.ᐟ till the end of the world pt2 pt3 pt4 I @voidsgf

an old flame is rekindled when you find yourself back in Salem's Lot alongside your ex-boyfriend, turned New York Times' (almost) bestselling author, Ben Mears. The only thing that stands in your guys' way is, well, a few undead vampires, and possibly worst of all, time.

⭑.ᐟ blood and ashes I @houseofaegon

Jesuralem's Lot is dead. But something still breathes in the bones of the Marsten House. Ben returns not to save, but to submit—to her. She is the last vampire left—and she’s starving. What she wants isn’t a meal. It’s him. Mind, body, soul. Forever.

MULTIPLE

⭑.ᐟ cumming in their pants I @delopsia

[spaceycat]

Hi babes! OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING! Like OBSESSED! when will part 2 of evans x fem!lab tech!reader be out?? Your writing is like crack to me 🫠

this is so sweet omg, thank you so much anon!! @sammygidd and i worked on this fic alot!! it wasnt just me who wrote this <3

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☆˚₊‧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚙𝚝.𝟸/𝟺 𐙚₊˚

⋆★⋆ i'll pretend, just for one night. ⋆★⋆ Part 1.

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: pushing it down and praying by lizzie mcalpine (3:54) // ༉‧₊˚ " he gives what he can, but now i don't know what he's giving for. " ᝰ.ᐟ

✰ pairing: calvin evans x fem!lab tech!reader

✰ cw: hurt/comfort, swearing, they're still not together guys sorry, vomitting, crying, calvin isnt as much of a dick anymore, angst, back talking, realising feelings, calvin refers to reader as secretary, not beta read, no use of y/n.

✰ word count: 1.5k+

✰ summary: you enter the little ms hastings pageant, but on the night you here the other contestants talking bad about you. leading you to leave the bar and find calvin throwing up outside from his allergies, you decide to take him home.

(IMPORTANT: collaborated with @sammygidd with writing process + planning)

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༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ calvin ⚛︎ fran ✿

The Little Miss Hastings Pageant is upcoming, Fran and the men in your lab managed to convince you to sign up, much to your hesitancy. Going into this pageant meant buying a dress that objectified you more than you already have been in this lab, and dolling yourself up for the sake of $25 and bragging rights. You didn’t see the point in all of this, but you’d be an outcast if you didn’t at least try - but you heard the way people giggled when you told Fran to take your picture.

A few hours before the pageant, you caught wind of the girls planning on asking Calvin to vote for them, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You found it nauseating that they wanted to try so hard for a vote from a man who probably didn’t even acknowledge their existence, or care at all to try. Let alone care about some stupid pageant hosted annually that he’s probably grown tired of. Funny enough – he attended anyway, every time it was hosted, and yet no one knew who he voted for, not a single time. Or if he even cared enough to do so. As the hours ticked by, leaving for work to get ready for this stupid thing. The realisation that you were actually contributing to this bullshit willingly, settled in your chest.

As you arrived at the bar it was being held at, you sat in your car, mulling everything over. Knowing that it wasn't too late to just start your car back up and drive off, pretending like you never signed up. But no, you had to bite the bullet that you shot.

Walking into the bar, a familiar face walked up to you, Fran.

“Hey, you actually came and pulled yourself together..! Wow, you look..” She looked you up and down. “...Half decent, thank you for doing your makeup. Much appreciated, get yourself a drink from a bar to loosen up and then get backstage.”

A drink from the bar would’ve been appreciated, but you went against it - for your judgement to be clearer and for no men to take you home. You moved backstage, pausing as you heard the other pageant girls backstage in hushed whispers.

“Did you see her talking to Dr. Evans?” “I know, she’s trying to sleep with him.” “I’ve never seen a female lab tech before.” “She’s an uptight prude is what she is, thinking she’s better than all of us.” “She was being all cute for Dr. Donatti.”

Your name was called from the stage, indicating for you to walk up there and act like some typical housewife. But your eyes stung, hearing those words said about you - the way they talked about their disdain towards you so freely. You didn’t walk up onto the stage, no you wouldn’t dare give them the satisfaction. You wouldn’t dare place on a hoax of a smile and pretend that all is well, because you were tired of living like that.

You cleared your throat, the girls looking over to you - their hushed whispers soon disappearing. “You’re supposed to go up now, sweetie.” Fran gestured to the steps that lead to the stage, but you didn’t even mutter a word. Simply turning away, and walking out of the bar.

You struggled to search for your keys as you stood by your car, checking every pocket, every crevice of your purse. The tears in your eyes, blinding your vision partially, didn’t help. Then you heard the sound of retching and gagging behind you, you ignored it. Assuming it to be a scientist who was a little too trigger-happy when it came to liquor.

“Secretary?” You perked up, looking over your shoulder to find Calvin doubled over on the edge of the pavement. 

“Had a bit too much to drink, Dr. Evans?” “No– no, it’s my allergies. They’re-” He then threw up into the bushes. “Oh Jesus.” You looked around for a moment, “Okay, I’ll take you home. But, please for the love of god, don’t throw up in my car.”

The drive to Calvin’s house was quiet for the most part, the occasional gag from Calvin - his head sticking out of the window, but the fresh air combated against his allergies, soon becoming better, still a bit sick. You occasionally looked in the rear-view mirror, noticing the mascara that had run down your face from your crying a few minutes before. You quickly wiped it with your fingers, hoping that Calvin didn’t notice.

Calvin noticed your movement. After a while, he spoke up. “Why were you crying before?” “Hm?” “You were crying, outside.” “No I wasn’t.” “You were, I heard you."

Your gaze shifted back to the road. “It’s fine. It’s nothing.” “It’s clearly not nothing if you were crying over it.”

“It was just Fran and her friends.” “Did they make fun of your dress or something?” He chuckled to himself. “They called me an uptight prude who was trying to sleep with you.” That made Calvin falter a bit, “Oh– I’m..”  He paused for a moment, sitting up a bit. "Sorry.”

The car fell silent for a moment before Calvin chimed up again,

“That’s– kinda contradicting, y'know? You can’t call someone a prude and then say they’re trying to..” His words drifted off as he saw the unamused look on your face, he cleared his throat - looking out of the window.

Your car eventually pulled up outside Calvin’s house. You helped him out of the car seat, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he stumbled a bit. The two of you made it to the front door. “This is where I leave you, Dr. Evans.” “Please, just call me Calvin.” “Right, well.. Goodnight Calvin.” You turned on your heels. “Wait– just.. Come inside. I owe it to you.”  “You don’t owe me anything.”

He looked at you for a moment, thinking of the correct words to say, letting out a soft breath before finally speaking again, “Just come inside, I promise it won't hurt y–” before hunching over and clutching his stomach, letting out a groan. “Okay, okay– fine.” Opening his door and heading inside with him.

You look around the house as you walk in alongside Calvin. The house was big, empty. The place lacked decoration and furniture, the only place that was somewhat homely was the living room. It was quiet, You expected Calvin to have a girlfriend, a wife, maybe. He was famous and successful, so it made sense.

“Is your wife out of the house?” “Oh, I’m not married.” Calvin settled onto the couch, leaning back - taking a breath, still feeling queasy. “Really?” You placed down your bag on the coffee table, walking into the kitchen to grab him a glass of water. “Mhm.” He watched you closely as you returned, passing him the full glass.

“No girlfriend either then?” Looking almost skeptical, you would think he would have… someone. Right? Before you could ask why, he was already speaking.

“I tend to focus on my work, adding in another unknown variable like that can change – everything, I can’t get distracted.”  The words coming out of his mouth made sense, a lot of sense. You just weren’t used to someone who had the same mindset as you did, especially a man. 

You watched as he sipped his water, soon grabbing your bag back. “I’ve overstayed my welcome, you seem better and.. It’s getting late.” You immediately started to head towards his front door, “Goodnight, Dr. Evans.. Calvin.” Starting to twist the door knob, hearing a small mumble behind you before you could officially leave, turning your head over your shoulder – a small “hm?” leaving your lips as your eyes scanned over Calvin. “I said– I said that I would’ve voted for you.” Clearing his throat with a small cough, you searched his eyes for any dishonesty, but you found none. He was telling the truth. The corners of your mouth formed into a small smile, it happened before you even noticed the now grin on your face. “Thank you – goodnight.” You give a quick nod, heading outside and softly closing the door behind you, walking to your car, and driving home for the night.

Meanwhile, Calvin sat on his couch in silence, the feeling of you still in his home. He looked around the now empty room, unfamiliar thoughts started to seep into his head – ones he had never had before, he liked having you in his space – you were intelligent, that’s for sure, and you weren’t trying to actively sleep with him… So it made him almost curious, he wanted to know more about you, your hobbies, what you like, dislike– his thoughts came to a pause, why was he thinking like this? A soft sigh now left his lips as he finished his glass of water, gently setting the cup on his coffee table. 

“She is very...” he took a brief moment to pause, “Stubborn.” Despite the words that left his lips, he couldn’t help but smile at the corners of his mouth, betraying him as he spoke. Shaking his head, he headed upstairs for the night – and headed to bed.

taglist: @the-lynnie-the-pooh, @loversrocktvgirl2 & @emma8895eb

[seaside-storm]

LEWIS PULLMAN as CALVIN EVANS Lessons in Chemistry (2023) 1.02

[springseventeen]

"Thank you for telling me. Now I know. [Know What?] What you need. As long as I have you and you are happy, that is enough for me. It's more than I could have ever imagined..." Lewis Pullman as Calvin Evans Lessons in Chemistry | S1.E2

[moon-fics]

Lewis Pullman character request idea 💡: Dr. Calvin Evans doesn't know how to act when his lab tech/research partner is going on a date with a colleague from his past (perhaps yearning, jealousy, and a declaration of love ensues 👼) I highly recommend everyone to watch Lessons In Chemistry if you haven't

Lessons in Chemistry has destroyed my life and soul. It's amazing and deserves a bigger fan base. I grant you your request. (Please note I chose a major FAR away from the sciences. I know NOTHING about chemistry.

It has been months since you started working as Calvin's lab tech. For the most part, you help organize his lab and brainstorm. You also spend most of your time reading research papers and textbooks to find solutions or get a different perspective. So far, things have been going well.

Except for the fact that he's hardly been talking to you recently. You can't remember the exact day things changed, but it can't have been more than two days. Every time you try to bring up an idea, he nods his head and gives you a one-word answer. It's gotten to a point where the other chemists talk to you more than him.

You expect the same treatment as you enter his lab. You've learned to ignore the signs on his door that grow in numbers every once in a while. The newest one is 'stop asking for my supplies'.

"Morning, Calvin," You greet him. He's hunched over one of the black laminate lab tables. He's staring intently at two beakers with different liquids in them. You know better to ask at this point.

"Morning," He replies in a low tone. He's dead focused and lost in thought. You pay him no mind and grab a textbook from his shelf. You've decided to go back to the basics to find anything you can use as a breakthrough. You can feel his eyes watching you as you sit at his desk.

You ignore him the same way he's been ignoring you. You won't give him the satisfaction of having all your attention unless he's earned it. Except, every few minutes, you can sense him watching you. It drives you mad that he won't even say a word. You want to throw the textbook at him to see if he'll finally speak, but you need it.

"Could you pass me my notebook and pen?" He asks after an hour of silence. Your eyes flicker from the page to him with an unamused expression. Without looking away, you reach for the notebook and pen. You hold it out in front of you and dare him to ask you to get up. "Thanks," He mutters.

He approaches you and takes the requested items. He doesn't move away from you. At least, not right away. You follow his line of sight, and he's zoned in on your hand. You clear your throat, and it snaps him out of his trance. He slaps the notebook against his hand and walks back to his experiment.

Another long space of silence passes, and you've finally gotten into the reading. You've relaxed in his chair, and your mind is filled with equations that you're trying to alter.

"Do you mind-" He tries to start, but you twist around in his chair to glare at him. Your fingers press against the chapter page as you silently loathe him.

"Listen, if you're going to keep me around to fetch you items, then I'd be more useful helping the other chemists." You snap. You're tired of only speaking to him when he needs something. You miss the banter and jokes you'd share with him. It used to brighten your day, and if he weren't so handsome, you'd have left by now.

His soft blue eyes search your face for a joke or for any sign that you're bluffing. You wish you were. His jaw clenches and unclenches as if he has something important to say.

"I heard you got asked out," He declares. He rests his fist against his mouth as if he regrets speaking. "I can't have you getting distracted," He mumbles.

"That's what this is about?" You scoff. He's been acting off because you got asked out. He's more interested in you remaining devoted to chemistry than your personal life. "One of the lab techs asked me out and I agreed. Is that enough information for you?" You speak harshly.

His eyes squint and reset at your reaction. You can see the gears working in his mind to figure out what to say.

"You agreed?" He asks. There is internal screaming inside your head that fuels your annoyance. "Does this mean you'll be here less?"

"I'm not sure! If things go well, then maybe. That isn't important, though." You throw your hands up. "I'm dedicated to helping you, so I'll be here enough."

"We need a submission for the grant, and if you're busy running off on dates, how am I supposed to rely on you?" That was more than enough for you. You close the textbook and set it on his desk. Your body is way too hot, and you cannot stand to be in the same room as him right now.

Without a word, you storm out of his lab and slam the door shut behind you. You can hear one of his signs hit the floor from the force. The farther you get, the worse your heart feels. As if it's being pulled in two different directions.

---

The day went by quickly after you left his lab. You distracted yourself with mindless tasks, but you still couldn't stop thinking about the argument. It doesn't make sense in your mind as to why he'd react that way.

You step outside the building to see heavy rain pouring down. Thankfully, you're covered where you're standing. Unfortunately, you didn't bring an umbrella to work. With a grunt, you step out from your protection and allow yourself to be exposed to the rain. The soft drops cool your skin down, and it soothes something inside you.

By the time you reach your car, you're soaked. You press the key into the slot of the door and right as you're about to turn it you hear your name.

Your head snaps up to look around the lot. You notice a figure running towards you and recognize them to be Calvin. You don't know why he's running in the rain to you, but you don't jump in your car.

He stops a few inches from you, and he's not even out of breath. His eyes instantly stare into yours as he tries to collect his thoughts. Rain drips from his hair down his nose. It's maddening how dignified he looks while getting drenched.

"Don't go out with him," He isn't ordering you, but he isn't suggesting either. "Please."

"This again? I'm not going to be distracted!" You groan. You press your hands against our face to contain yourself. You cannot believe you're about to have the same argument from earlier.

"I'm not saying this because I'm worried about your commitment. I know you're just as devoted to getting this grant as I am," He huffs. "I'm saying it because the idea of seeing you and your smile less drives me crazy. You brighten my lab just being there, and you make me feel unstuck." He confesses hastily.

You can't find the words to say as he admits his feelings. You had no clue he felt this way. You should scream at him for treating you poorly, simply because he was jealous. Yet, you're almost glad he is.

"Working with you has been the greatest pleasure of my life. I'd give up ever winning an award if it meant I could stay by your side." He places his hands on his hips. "I'm sorry I've been distant and I've been wasting your time. I just wanted more of it." It's clear he has more to say, but he's waiting for your reaction.

"I'll accept your apology, but if you ever treat me like that again, I'm breaking all your beakers." You warn. You want to look serious, but a smile creeps up on your lips as you speak. "However, you're going to have to do more to convince me not to go on that date," You taunt.

"Say less," He nods. His hands gently cradle your head, and he tilts it so his lips can press against yours perfectly. Rain enters your mouth during the kiss, but it doesn't bother you. Not when his warmth is consuming you. The kiss is desperate but slow. He's trying to get his point across, and it's working.

When he finally pulls away, you continue to stare at his lips. Your hands go to his wrists to keep his hands in place.

"I think I can cancel that date," You hum.

"Oh, you think you can?" He chuckles. His thumb rubs circles over your cheeks.

[leopar6eyes]

i’m gonna lick the water off of him

credit: vam6ify

[voidsxntry]

a fraction of a second I calvin evans

pairing: calvin evans x fem!reader gif credit. @avadaniels summary: one morning walk. one wrong step. wc: 1.9k warnings: spoilers for lessons in chemistry!!! fix it fic. fluff. elizabeth and calvin are friends. he just takes the dog on his runs. ooc calvin. self indulgent. reader can put hair in a ponytail. excessive use of em dash’s. not sorry. not beta needed a fic asap.

a/n: i’m rusty asf. i have risen just for this man. watched this knowing his fate and still bawled my eyes out. and there’s little to no fics of him so i came out of hiatus just for this. wrote this with a migraine and zero sleep. If you enjoyed, please reblog or comment!

You almost didn’t go on your walk that morning.

And that was unusual.

Rituals were your anchor — carved into muscle memory, reliable as clockwork. Every morning, without fail, you followed the same routine. It kept your mind quiet, your breath steady, and the chaos of the world at bay. Wake up at six. Dress in your usual uniform: long sleeves, a pair of shorts, and worn-in tennis shoes. Brew a cup of coffee, sip it slowly in the kitchen’s early light. Out the door by six-thirty.

But yesterday had been… a mess.

A long, cruel string of bad luck stitched tightly together, like the universe was testing your patience just to see when you’d snap. It started out fine, your morning had gone as usual.

Then the moment you stepped into work, it all unraveled. Your boss was irritable and short-tempered. The students were wild. The parents were worse. Every person you encountered seemed determined to chip away at your sanity, and by the time you made it home, your nerves were shot.

You’d sighed in relief, hoping for a simple evening. Something easy, maybe leftovers, maybe quiet. But when you opened the fridge, a sour stench hit you in the face. Everything was spoiled. Mold bloomed across forgotten containers. The milk had separated. It wasn’t until later that you realized the power had gone out sometime during the day. Long enough to quietly sabotaging your dinner without warning.

So you’d settled for dry cereal eaten straight from the box, too tired to be frustrated, and gone to bed praying that Saturday would be kinder.

It took a full-body groan to get yourself up that morning. Not graceful, not motivated, but determined.

You dragged yourself out of bed, shuffled into the bathroom, and went through the motions. Coffee brewed. Shoes tied. Hair pulled up.

Despite everything, you stepped out the door right on time.

Saturday mornings had that effect. Fewer cars on the road, fewer people out. Some neighbors were taking the luxury of sleeping in, while others sat quietly on porches, coffee cups in hand, soaking in the early calm. It felt peaceful. Still.

The trees blocked most of the morning sun, casting cool shadows across the sidewalk, but the light that managed to filter through made everything look soft and golden. Birds chirped lazily overhead, filling the silence without breaking it.

You started your usual light jog, somewhere between a fast walk and a slow run. Enough to get your heart moving, never enough to sweat too much. The breeze was just enough to keep the warmth from feeling heavy.

You smiled and waved at the few neighbors you passed — the older couple watering their flowers, the woman with the tiny terrier who always barked once and then got shy. At the corner, you slowed to a jog in place, glancing both ways before crossing, your shoes tapping softly on the cement.

Then, rounding the next block, you saw him.

Your “running friend.”

You didn’t know his name. Didn’t know the name of the dog either. You couldn’t have picked him out of a crowd if he wasn’t mid-stride with a leash in hand. He was always at least a block ahead — sometimes farther — nothing more than a figure in motion, as consistent as the sunrise. But today, for once, he was on the same sidewalk as you. Close enough to see.

Maybe he was running late. Maybe he was just pacing himself. Either way, he was there — present, not just a blur.

You slowed instinctively, letting your gaze rest on him. His stride was smooth, strong. A small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips. You’d never admit it aloud, but you had a quiet sort of crush on him. The harmless kind that bloomed over time without invitation. Despite the fact that he didn’t know you existed, you found comfort in him. He was part of your routine too.

As you trailed behind, you noted his usual complete lack of situational awareness. He was entirely focused on the dog — a goofy, floppy creature with far too much energy and a mind of its own. The man laughed softly as the dog tugged at the leash, and you nearly laughed too, your own amusement catching in your throat.

He slowed further as the dog resisted, clearly engaged in a battle of wills. You could hear him muttering to the animal, coaxing or teasing. And the sound of his laughter, low and unguarded, made your chest flutter.

You didn’t mean to stare, but he was so much clearer now. His face, the exact curl of his hair, the way sunlight framed the edge of his profile. If you weren’t so tense, so on edge, you might’ve committed it all to memory.

He had reached the corner, still laughing, still tugging at the leash playfully. The dog was resisting, digging its paws into the sidewalk, body leaning away from the curb like it knew something. The man chuckled and gave the leash a gentle tug, still coaxing. But you saw it: the collar starting to slip. A subtle shift. A warning.

“Come on, Six-Thirty. We’ve done this a hundred times.”

But something felt wrong. Goosebumps rose along your arms. A strange, cold prickling crawled up your spine. Your gut clenched with a quiet panic you couldn’t name yet. It was instinctive, that buzzing pressure before something snaps.

His voice was still playful, unaware, calling to the dog. But your eyes flicked to the side, and there it was a bus —going faster than it should in a residential area.

You didn’t think. Just picked up your pace, walking faster almost running now.

Time fractured. Everything slowed. The leash pulled taut.

The collar slipped free. The dog lurched back. And he — your “running friend” — stumbled backward into the street.

You didn’t scream just lunged. Your fingers closed around the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, yanking him. The force was messy, desperate. Enough to rip both of you off balance.

The ground slammed up into you, unforgiving and solid. He landed half on top of you, his head knocking into yours, his elbow digging into your side with a startled grunt.

The bus tore past a split second later. Inches. The bus missed him by inches.

You lay there, breath caught in your throat, your lungs fluttering with panic. Everything shook — your hands, your chest, your legs — as adrenaline surged like wildfire through your veins.

For a moment, the world was still. Colorless. Soundless.

Then it came rushing back, like a wave crashing into shore.

The dog barking in the distance. The fading screech of the bus’s horn as it disappeared around the corner. The blood roaring in your ears. The rapid beating of two hearts. Two still-beating hearts.

You blinked up at the sky, the narrow slice visible through the branches above. Your body ached, but you couldn’t move yet. Not until the shock wore off.

Then a shadow crossed your vision. He hovered above you, face coming into focus. Curls tousled, cheeks flushed, lips parted in disbelief.

His eyes were wide, shocked, breathless, and locked onto yours. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice raw and dazed.

You nodded slowly, still catching up.

He stayed frozen over you, bracing himself with one arm planted awkwardly on the pavement, the other still resting across your side. His breathing was sharp — shallow and fast — matching yours beat for beat.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you could.

“I…” He shook his head slightly, curls bouncing as he tried to process it. “I didn’t see it. I didn’t hear it. I—”

“I know,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you expected. “I did.”

His gaze snapped back to yours. Something in it shifted, a spark of awareness. Not just that you’d saved him, but that you’d been there. That you’d been close enough to notice what he hadn’t.

You felt your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his sweatshirt and slowly let go, your hand falling limply to your side.

You both rose slowly, a little awkward, a little shaky.

Calvin stood first, unsteady on his feet. His hand trembled slightly as he offered it to you, the shock still echoing through his limbs. That close to death did something to a person. You took his hand, let him help you up, and tried not to focus on how warm his grip was.

“That would’ve been…” He swallowed, voice barely audible. “Fatal.”

“No kidding,” you said, exhaling with a weak laugh.

He turned to look at you fully, concern creasing the space between his brows. “Are you alright?”

“Besides a minor headache, possibly bruised ribs, and some back pain?” You gave a tired smile. “Yeah. I think I’ll live.”

He breathed out a half-laugh. “Good.”

“And you?” you asked, eyes narrowing on the way he shifted his weight, like the ground still wasn’t quite steady.

Calvin turned to glance at the road again — the spot where it nearly ended for him — then back at you. “Well,” he said, still dazed, “I’m not splattered across the pavement, so I’d say so.” He tried for a smile. It almost worked.

You nodded. Your own heart had finally started to slow. And now, up close, you could really see him — not the blurry figure half a block ahead, not the running stranger with a dog — but him. Up close, he looked exactly how you imagined and nothing like it all at once. Handsome in an understated way. Kind eyes. Disheveled, flustered, completely real.

“I’m Calvin,” he said. “Calvin Evans.”

You blinked at the name. It was familiar, vaguely. You’d probably seen it somewhere in class, heard it whispered at a dinner party you half-listened to, but none of that mattered right now.

“I’m… still catching my breath,” you replied, giving him a small, sheepish grin, as you gave him your name in return.

He said your name quietly like he was committing it to memory. His voice was low and gravelly, from the shock, or maybe the adrenaline still working its way out.

“Thank you,” he said. “I can’t—I mean… just—thank you.”

You gave a small nod, your smile growing just a little. “I’m just glad I got to you in time.”

His brow lifted, like he hadn’t quite considered it that way until now. A pause followed — then something softened in him. “Well… I suppose I was meant to be late today.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said. “More like… I’m glad I didn’t skip my walk. Kind of a butterfly effect situation.”

That made him pause. His lips parted slightly, and something flickered in his eyes. “The butterfly effect isn’t technically-” He stopped, catching himself mid-explanation. A breath passed between you. Then he smiled. “You’re right. The butterfly effect.”

He looked over at Six-Thirty, who had stopped to sniff a patch of grass, tail still wagging like nothing had happened.

“Would you… want to walk with us?” he asked, voice quiet. “I think I’d feel better not being on my own right now.”

Your heart skipped once, then settled.

“I’d like that,” you said.

“And if I’m not being too forward… maybe breakfast after? Or coffee?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “To thank you properly.”

You looked at him, earnest and exhausted and standing here, alive. And somehow, you didn’t want the moment to end.

“You don’t have to,” you said, “but yes. I’d like that too.”

©voidsxntry2025

[kaizsche]

LEWIS PULLMAN as CALVIN EVANS LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY (2023)