Masterlist
Reader is a math teacher who finds her computer science teacher coworker an asshole. Schlatt finds his algebra/geometry coworker very annoying. What happens when they are forced to be around each other and get along?
You see a text message alerting you that Ted is outside your apartment, waiting on you. You grab your purse and make your way to his Tacoma. When you open the passenger side door, Ted smiles at you. “You are full of school spirit,” he says, looking at your outfit.
You decided to wear a t- shirt with your school mascot and corduroy pants of your school color. You also have a pretty headband and earrings to match. “We are going to a game. I am showing my support. Also I wore this to school,” you tell him.
“Well I didn’t see you at school today.” Ted gives you a slight disappointing look.
“I had a lot to catch up on before the weekend started.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.
“It had nothing to do with our recent lunch guest?” Ted asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope definitely not,” you say.
Ted just rolls his eyes at you. After a few minutes, you arrive at the baseball fields. You both make your way to the gate. “Hello Ms. (Y/L/N) and Mr Nivision. You don't have to pay since you’re both teachers,” Daisy, a past student of yours, tells you.
You both thank her and walk inside. You make your way to the stands taking a seat towards the back. You look out and see Schlatt throwing a ball to a few players in the outfield. You find it annoying how good he looks. His muscular arms flex with each throw. His thick thighs are even more noticeable in the baseball pants he has to wear.
“I’m going to get some popcorn. Do you want anything?” You ask Ted. You decide that you need a distraction and the concession stand sounds like the best option.
“Sure. Popcorn sounds good. Do you want me to go with you?” Ted asks. He hands you a few dollars.
“No, I'll be right back. Also keep your money, I got it.”
Ted smiles at you as he puts his money back. You make your way over to the concession stand. While you wait in line, you see Schlatt go behind the concession stand and grab an orange Gatorade. When it is your time to go up, Schlatt’s attention turns towards you. “Oh hey (Y/N), didn’t think you were actually going to show up. Is Ted here?” he asks you, taking a sip of his drink.
“Yeah we carpooled,” you tell him. You turn to the parent volunteering, “Can I get two popcorns?”
“That will be three dollars,” she tells you.
You pull the money from your purse and give it to the woman, but Schlatt stops you. “Just put it on my tab, Jennifer. She’s a friend of mine.” The word friend threw you off, but maybe he is just saying it for Ted. It is obvious that one of the popcorns is for him.
Jennifer gets up to grab the popcorn. “It’s three dollars. You didn’t have to do that. I can pay for myself,” you tell him.
“Exactly, It's only three dollars. I’m the coach. I can get whatever I want.” Of course he is going to make this a thing. Instead of arguing, you just let it slide. Schlatt leaves soon after since the game is about to start.
Jennifer returns with your popcorn bags. You thank her and go back to Ted. He takes a bite as soon as you hand him the bag.
You both watch the game, enjoying your popcorn. You are quite impressed with how well the boys are playing. You don’t really understand baseball, but it’s obvious they are doing well based on the score.
Schlatt seems to be happy with their performance as well. You notice his smile as he pats Sawyer on the back when he gets a run. You think his smile is quite nice and you wish you could see it more often. You want to slap yourself for those thoughts. You knew they would only cause you more trouble.
By the eighth inning, you and Ted are fully invested in the game. The score is currently tied with both teams having two runs each. Right now there are two outs and two strikes. There is also a player on third and one of first. As soon as the pitch is thrown, Joshua hits it towards the outfield. He runs towards first at the same time the right fielder throws the ball in. The ump calls it an out. Schlatt comes out of the dug out obviously fuming by the bad call.
“What the fuck was that? He was safe!” Schlatt yells at the umpire.
“Cool it coach or else you’re out of here. First got to him before he ran past,” the ump tells him.
Schlatt groans, storming back. You can’t hear what he is telling his players, but you know he’s pissed.
You and Ted give each other a look, not sure what to do or how to react. You both just watch the game.
The game ends soon after with the opposing team winning by one run. Even though you are ready to go home, Ted tells you that he told Schlatt he would wait on him. You really don’t feel like waiting on Schlatt especially since he is probably not in a good mood.
“Are you hungry? Schlatt mentioned a pizza place we could try,” Ted suggests.
“I could eat,” you tell him. “Do you know how long he will be?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s not like we have anything better to do than wait.”
You notice a few players leaving and they all look fed up. After about 30 minutes, Schlatt walks out of the locker room, fully changed. “You guys didn’t have to wait on me. You should have just gone home,” Schlatt tells you both.
“It’s no worries. I am treating you to pizza. You deserve it after tonight,” Ted tells him.
Schlatt gives him a small smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry this is the game you came to. We usually play better than that.”
“The boys did great. Just a few bad calls. I’m glad we came out,” you tell him. Even though the game didn’t go as well as Schlatt would have liked, you are glad you were able to watch.
The three of you make your way to the pizza place to enjoy a meal. The conversation is going quite well. “How long have you two been together?” Schlatt asks.
You choke on your drink while Ted starts laughing. “As much as I love (Y/N), we are just friends,” Ted explains.
Schlatt looks at you both, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I thought you were a couple. A few students had said something about it,” Schlatt admits.
“And you trusted them?” You ask with a slight laugh. “Theatre guys aren’t really my type.”
Ted sticks his tongue at you. “Well Math nerds aren’t my type.”
“Math nerds aren’t too bad. Especially when they dress up for every occasion,” Schlatt says, looking directly at you.
You feel yourself start to blush. Is he flirting with you? Why was he not being an ass? Was he waiting until he knew you were single? It all seemed strange, but you weren’t going to complain.
The rest of the night goes quite well. The three of you talk and laugh like you have been friends for years. You feel like things between you and Schlatt are starting to look up. You hope that it continues that way because as much as you hate to admit it, you enjoy Schlatt’s company as well as his stupidly good looking face.
A/N: things are finally happening (sort of)! I’m not sure how I feel about this story… maybe I can make it better and more exciting but I’m not sure. Anyways let me know what you think. I’ll be answering some of my reqs soon as well.
and the beautiful authors who give it to us. you are a treasure.
NSFW below
Imagine being the bossy 'mean' gf of him. Guard dog girlfriend vibes (not that he even needs it lmao, at least physically). He's awkward and apologizes too much and doesn't stand up for himself as much as he should. Then there's you. Assertive, bossy, "he asked for no pickles" type of girlfriend. When you're around, he gives off submissive ass vibes. "Yes dear" "no dear" "whatever you want, honey"
Yelena and Walker make jokes that he's like your little puppy.
No one would suspect how he rips off your panties, bends you over your desk, and fucks the meanness out of you. And fuck, he's so strong that you can't even try to get away from how good he's making you feel. He's hitting your sweet spot without even trying, all while telling you how much of a little bitch you are, being so bossy to him.
"Not so tough now. Look how sweet you are once you get some attention, hm?"
He gets into this headspace that melts away his anxiety, fully knowing you're into him being like this.
"Such a sweet girl, happy to let me use you, aren't you, honey?"
You nod embarrassingly fast and let out a moan when he leans over you, his lips seeking out your neck.
"Just need someone to put you in your place. It's okay, honey. You boss me around out there, and I'll fuck you like a toy in here, deal?"
(He doesn't pull out btw)
spencer reid who sits and watches you do your makeup (he’s pretending to read a book) (spoiler: he’s not)
boyliking is a full time job, and brother, I’m doing overtime
i don't have money but i can reblog, hope everything turns out ok <3
gonna kinda lowkey leave a link to my ko-fi here bc i have a lot of fees coming up for moving into my apartment, i still dont have everything i need for it, my laptop is broken, and i need to get my car fixed, and sign up for new insurance (which will cost money unfortunately). once all of this is taken care of, i wont have much to fall back on in case of emergency. absolutely not necessary to leave anything, please dont feel obligated to, just figured i'd drop it here even tho im lowkey embarrassed to lmao
Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)
Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader
Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.
Word count: 2.7k
…
Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.
I’m a mutant…
That’s what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.
However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.
Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.
Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.
And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know jack-shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.
...
This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.
Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.
“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”
“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.
“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.
“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.
Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.
Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.
He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.
“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.
“Yes and I’m sorry-“
“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”
“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.
“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.
“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.
He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”
“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”
I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?
“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.
Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”
Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.
He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.
Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.
“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention?” Logan questions, his tone surprisingly soft. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again.
“I like yours.”
“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.
His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”
“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.
“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.
“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.
“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.
“You imagined it?”
He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.
After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”
He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.
“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.
...
After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.
“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is further strained when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin, from that sentence alone.
So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.
“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.
Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coaxing his tone.
Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.
I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."
With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.
He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.
"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.
I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.
At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.
He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.
Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"
"Lo, it's too much-"
"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.
"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.
"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.
When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.
After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"
"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”
I giggle, "You have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."
He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're just begging for it princess."
Part two
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