Request #23: I have a request. I want glasses one shot where Chris Evans is a teacher and the reader another teacher and she falls more in love with him each day but one day he comes in with his glasses one and she goes mad for him (smut)😂
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you friend!🥹🫧🩷 here is your special bday request... cookex3000
teachers! Chris x Reader
The sun seemed to shine more this morning on your drive to work. Getting out of the house is a hassle in itself because as a teacher you carry and bring so many things in order for your day to run smoothly.
Your passenger seat was currently occupied by your lunch bag, graded worksheets, folders that those papers were in, and treats you promised the kids you would bring.
Walking down the hallway, after parking your car in the same spot and entering the high school you worked at...you hear his laugh. That contagious laugh that literally brightens up this school and your day.
Clearing your throat to make sure it isn't too scratchy or too high if he talks to you, you turn the corner to your classroom, teaching 10th grade wasn't easy nor was it for everyone. But you enjoyed it, it was a very rewarding profession.
Including getting to work with hot co-workers...uh...hot...you meant nice co-workers.
Students roam the hallways, each in their own conversations.
Some too deep in their conversations that they tend to forget where they are and block the entire hallway, "Guys, let's get to class please, let's go."
You kindly remind the group of boys bickering lightheartedly about something.
You continue walking down to your classroom, where Mr.Evans and Mr.Stan were speaking in the hall, since their classrooms were next to each other but across from yours.
As you approach them, you realize that Chris was wearing glasses today, he doesn't wear them often actually not at all, but boy does he look absolutely scrumptious wearing them, his striped shirt and his slacks.
You had zoned out, and unaware of them both trying to get your attention, when a student bumps into you making you drop your keys.
"Let's watch where we're going there, Kyle." Chris shouts after the student, who he seems to know, that bumped into you and walks across the hall to pick up your keys for you.
"Good morning, Ms.Y/l/n," He smiles at you. And you feel yourself zoning out too.
"Did you not have enough coffee this morning, Y/n?" Sebastian asks, leaning against some lockers.
Clearing your throat again to avoid embarrassing yourself just in case it cracked or something, you speak, "I have a little bit of a sore throat. But I did have some coffee, thanks for asking, Stan."
"Hi Mr.Evans!" Some of Chris's students walk by, and greet him. According to your students, who also have Chris, he is the best history teacher ever.
Chris looks over at them briefly, "no talking in the hallway," he jokes at them and you watch as they both giggle and continue to walk to make it where they are going before the late bell rings.
Crossing his arms Chris makes it across the hallway again to stand outside his classroom, "I hope you guys did your homework," he calls after them.
The freshman girls giggle and continue walking, "What homework?" Chris is definitely a chill teacher. He's also the boys' football coach.
The bell rings, and you're left staring at Chris once again, god he just looks so freaking good in those glasses. Chris is already a handsome guy, but oh do those glasses make him look good enough to eat.
"Hope you guys have a great day today," You speak, to hide the fact that you spent the past few minutes just staring at Chris and getting bumped into by passing students.
Stan sighs, "right, dealing with moody 16 year olds," Sebastian Stan teaches math and well...math and teenagers...don't really mix. Especially if they become frustrated in not being able to understand the concept.
Chris giggles over at his friend/coworker, "ask yourself why you're here, Stan." Chris, you and Sebastian each take closer steps further inside each of your classrooms, "just ask yourself that."
Sneakily flipping Chris off, Sebastian walks into his first period of the day, shutting the door and you see him clapping hi shands together in front of his students.
Chris watches you look in that direction, holding his door open, "you sure you're okay, Y/n?"
Looking back at him, you gulp, and think shit, why did you gulp now he knows something is up, "Yes." you continue to lie, currently you were sweating under his stare, more than usual, "I'm fine. Like Stan said, ready to deal with moody 10th graders all day."
Laughing, Chris laughs with you, "right."
Walking into your classroom, you forget to greet your first period of the day and walk right by them–they were all chatting up a storm within their own groups anyway.
Now your whole day is thrown off, ever since Chris got hired here, you sort of may have developed this crush on him...
Okay perhaps a huge crush, he's just so sweet, and good with all the kids and has the same passion you have–teaching kids.
You find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into this Chris loving pool with everyday that passes in this school.
Something about him and those glasses flipped a switch inside you, you felt it as soon as you laid eyes on him this morning.
There comes a point where your students all shut up, confused on why you weren't in the front of the class, directing them to their next assignment or lesson. They get so quiet, you wish they were like this everyday.
Instead of explaining to them about your 'off' day, you play it off cool, "thank you for finally quieting down...um...we're starting a new unit today and as promised I got some graded stuff for you all and new books."
You wipe your sweaty hands off on your flared black pants, and walk over to the ledge in your classroom, next to the giant poster that said: "Miss Y/n Best English Teacher Ever"
Grabbing a fresh copy out of many, that you are so thankful to your administration and the school's English department for, you walk over to the front of the classroom and show the kids the next book you'd all be reading.
"Now...has anyone ever read To Kill A Mockingbird, before?"
Trying to distract yourself for the majority of the morning is difficult, because everytime you looked at your door which had a big enough window in it to see over the hallway and into Chris's room where he sat at his desk was very much making you even more nervous.
"Do I have to complete this part?" A student appears beside your desk, a pencil above his ear, he sighs dramatically.
Removing your eyes from watching Chris point to something on his board over in his classroom, you focus your attention on Franklin, one of your students who didn't really like completing their work.
Nodding, you point to the directions that you typed yourself when making these worksheets:
Please complete this bottom part after completing the part above.
Answer them to the best of your ability and make sure to use examples from the book.
"Franklin, it's clear as day. Please complete the bottom part." You simply repeat. Staring at him as he reads over the printed words.
"Yeah," he finally comes up with, "but do I have to?"
"If you want to play on Friday night, then yeah...you have to." You add, Franklin is one of Chris's star football players, but he's also one of your struggling students.
He sighs even louder, a hood on his head that you've told him 5 times already to take off...dragging his feet as he walks over back to his desk.
You just read Chapter 1 with them, and now they must complete this analysis worksheet before the bell rings if not it is homework, and just as you suspected the bell to next period rings.
Your students all shuffle to gather their things, meanwhile you yell at them, "make sure you guys complete this for homework tonight, and try not to destroy your new books because if you do, it's coming out of your parent's paycheck!" only reminding them of their assignment for tonight.
Chris puts his feet up on his desk, enjoying the silence that comes with his prep period, biting into an apple, he looks over at your room through the glass in his room door, and sees you on your computer.
Folding his legs back up and off his desk, he stands up and decides to walk over to your room, smiling at the school nurse who was sweet as pie walking by, he waits for her to pass to open your door.
It takes a few seconds for you to look at him, as he strides into your room, too focused on the lesson plan you were currently completing you do not think to face the student that had just walked in, "I'm not here right now, ask me later please."
"Is that your automated message?"
Chris's voice is the only thing to make your eyes fly up from your computer screen and your heart start to pound in your chest.
Watching him walk to the nearest desk closest to you, he slides in and takes a seat, eating his apple, "Uh...yeah...it is." You try to regulate your breathing, and try to act normal.
Chris chuckles, a delightful sound that you feel all the way to your toes, "mine is, "if no one is bleeding or dying, please don't bother me."'
Laughing, Chris's smile grows bigger at seeing your smile, which was absolutely beautiful.
"You're not being too hard on Frank, are ya?" Chris wiggles his eyebrows at you, biting into another piece of his apple.
His jaw tightens each time he bites hard, and you're just about gushing inside–ready to melt away into a puddle right here on your classroom floor.
Licking your lips, Chris catches the action and hides the groan by clearing his throat, "No, but another thing is that he doesn't cooperate with me. Or wants to complete any work."
Chris finishes chewing what's in his mouth, keeping eye contact with you. There was something different in the way you looked at him today, something much more sinful to your beautiful eyes...
"I'll talk to him today, at practice. Make sure he's also putting in his part. If not, he can't play on Friday. I don't care, I'll sit his ass on the bench, he can mope and groan all he wants."
Smiling and giggling at that, you like how honest of a guy Chris is, "so the one who's been giving you a hard time is actually him?"
Not wanting to dump on his star player, you shrug your shoulders, essentially answering his question. Changing the subject and you take a deep breath before saying, "I really like your glasses."
Chris smirks over at you, a naughty little smirk. "Do you?" there's a sweet tone in his voice, but the more you look at his eyes the more they smolder with lust, or are you just seeing things?
It wasn't all in your head, was it?
"I do," you respond, an even light and sweeter sound to your voice, "they suit you well."
Getting up and walking over to you, you swear he starts to lean in and he does, closer and closer until all the oxygen in your lungs has evaporated, tossing the pit of his apple into the trash can beside you, Chris smiles at you.
His eyes look to your computer screen, snooping around he finds a nicely put together lesson plan that you planned on doing next week. "I have a proposition for you."
"What may that be?" You're slowly finding your confidence, after opening that section up in your mind, the nerves in your body were being replaced with self-confidence.
"I have a fresh bottle of wine at home. Tell me not you wouldn't want a glass of wine after dealing with all these kids?"
Smiling because you know what's coming, you try to play hard to get, even though you were dying to be in Chris's house, drinking wine with him.
"I don't know...I have a lot to grade." The whimsical look on your face, and the way your eyes travel from his down to his lips–tells him everything he needs to know.
Chris tsks his tongue at you, "Ohh, come have wine with me. I'll make you some dinner and then that way you can teach me how to lesson plan like you do. That's a win-win."
The bell rings, and it indicates the students would be returning anytime soon, walking backwards to the door, Chris can't stop grinning at you, "come on, you want to say yes! Say yes."
Chris even catches you clenching your thighs together, as you think about being alone with him in his place.
"Yes," you exhale, accepting the one and only chance you may ever have.
"What was that? A yes?" Chris opens the door to your room, students flood into your classroom, so you act professionally.
"Yes!"
Later in the day...
Chris opens his front door, his eyes wandering down your frame. You looked radiant, out of your regular fancy work clothes and into some jeans, a white top and a cardigan. Even though he wants you to look at him, you were too busy with the puppy jumping on you.
"Hi there! Aw, you're such a cutie!" You pet the puppy's head and his ears.
You're thankful for the few hours you had after school to prep yourself to meet Chris at his place, you avoided seeing him after school because the nerves were back.
Tidying up your hair, your makeup and your clothes. You bring everything you need to Chris's place.
"This is Dodger, Dodger this is our special guest so behave." Chris welcomes you in and your heart clenches at his words: special guest.
After showing you his amazing looking house, and joking on how he could afford such a large property with his teacher salary. He welcomes you to sit on the kitchen island as he finishes dinner.
Pouring you a fresh glass of wine, Chris's dark eyes cause jitters to consume your entire body. This is just the way Chris makes you feel, electric and so very alive.
Watching him cook wasn't helping either, his back looked so sexy in his solid blue t-shirt which hugged his muscles perfectly, you were fighting a losing battle here, picking up your glass you take a slow sip, eyeing him from above the glass rim.
Chris was also out of his work clothes, wearing a backwards hat, his blue shirt, some sweats and of course his glasses still.
"I have prepared you my famous penne vodka, some fresh spring salad and chicken parmesan–oh my god I didn't ask, do you like chicken?" Chris freaks out for a second as he sets the plate down in front of you, and he looks so cute when he's anxious like this.
Smiling, you calm him down and touch his forearm, "you're fine, Chris. This smells so amazing."
Taking a seat next to you, you both eat, as if it's the most natural thing in the world to eat dinner with you, Dodger lays by his feet, as dinner unravels you and Chris get to know each other more.
And you're left thinking about how much you both have in common. You get why so many of his students say he's the best, it's because of that warmth he radiates and that secret charm he has.
After helping him load the dishwasher, and thanking him millions of times for that delicious tasting dinner you both take a seat in his living room, "now wait, you went back to get your 6-12 certification?"
Shrugging you nod, "yeah, don't get me wrong, I adored my kindergarteners. But I felt more of a passion for teaching high school English."
You feel comfortable talking with him, he's just so easy going.
"Uh...said no one ever..." Chris laughs, and you grow that much more comfortable in hitting his shoulder, "...but you! You didn't let me finish."
"Okay, Mr.History Teacher of The Year. How about you? Why history?"
Placing his hand on his chest, Chris gives you a dreamy look, and you must keep your ass seated, working against your muscles to keep you seated! No way you were making the first move.
"To be honest, honey, I don't really give a fuck about history..." His cursing catches you off guard, "...sorry I curse a lot when I'm not at school. Dodger knows," he motions his adorable puppy, chilling on the couch with you guys.
Dodger barks in agreement at him.
"But when I was a kid, I wasn't the smartest, or the most studious. The only person who gave me a sense of belonging and that push in life was Mr.Williams, my history teacher. And well, after trying to get out of school the 12 years I was in it...I found myself getting my teaching degree and going right back."
"It's a very rewarding profession," you state outloud, keeping your eyes on him and his effortless beauty. You wonder if he knows how handsome he is.
Chris remains in eye contact with you, loving the way you looked at him, "that it is." He says slowly. In a deep husky voice that has you tingling inside.
Speaking and getting to know each other even more, you and Chris were into your third bottle of wine.
It was absolutely delicious, it was refreshing and so very light and sweet which was dangerous yet you and Chris seem to be adrenaline junkies.
Dodger had gone to take a nap on his bed, near the sliding back door because he loved to sleep there with a stuffed lion, "stop." you tell Chris, the wine in your glass swirling around as you found everything he said funny.
"I swear," Chris repeats, adding to his previous sentence, "the first time I saw you, I thought you were beautiful. I still think that. I was just too shy to tell you." He confesses. After all this time keeping it to himself. "Actually I thought you were married."
And perhaps confessing it to Stan one day. After asking him if you had a husband or a boyfriend during the few couple weeks of Chris arriving in the high school district.
"Actually I thought you were married."
"Really?" You squeak, absolutely taken back by his divulgence, "me, married?"
You watch his gaze dip to your lips, and you feel yourself losing control. This was it, you couldn't take the ache inside you anymore, the need to control yourself and your feelings around Chris.
"Really," Chris whispers out, "I thought someone had to wife this beautiful woman up and I missed out."
You feel like a teenage girl when their crush starts to flirt with them, best. feeling. ever.
"Well, I'm not married...yet." You clear that up for him, and god does Chris feel over the moon to hear you say that.
Biting his bottom lip, because after dreaming about all the dirty things he'd do to you, he can't seem to control himself any longer, "that's good to know, Miss Y/l/n."
Shakily, your hand sets down your wine glass on Chris's coffee table, turning back around you go for it, leaning over into him, you kiss him – blindly. Feeling every wet dream of yours come true at this moment.
You feel him move forward, reciprocating your kiss, and using one of his arms to extend and set his own glass down as well, then using that same arm he cups your face with his hand, angling your face just right for him.
The kiss is nothing you expected and better than you've ever dreamed of, feeling his soft warm lips slashing against yours and his stubble rubbing against your face was erotic as is, placing a hand on his chest you can feel his heart beating as fast as yours was.
Feeling the soft material of his shirt to anchor yourself, you draw Chris in closer, the kisses quickly become rushed, heated and more passionate. Chris sucks on your tongue making you moan into his mouth–fuck he's such a good kisser.
Taking off your cardigan, Chris helps you blindly, and he even helps you take off your top when you start to peel that off too. You weren't going to waste another second, god damn those glasses really did turn you into a completely different person – a mad woman.
A horny woman.
Reaching for his shirt, the same time you sit in his lap, Chris helps you again, moving away from your lips to get the material through the space between the both of you, reaching for his glasses you stop him–latching onto his wrist, "no," your voice shaky and trembling with need, "leave them."
Chris smirks at you, good to know you were as kinky as he was, who knew that this morning which started off like any other regular day would end in you sitting in his lap on his couch topless.
Chris kisses between your bra cups, making you sigh and tilt your head back, aware of his hands roaming up your back, you unhook your bra. All the bottled up feelings inside you, lustful ones you've been keeping from Chris were finally shining through you.
Flipping you onto your back, after you fling your bra somewhere in his living room, Chris situates himself between your spread legs, rubbing his nose up your throat inhaling your wonderful scent–Chris groans above you, and you draw him down closer onto you by pushing his hips with your legs.
Needing his lips again, you move Chris's head back to yours, he gives you what you want and kisses you. With fiery passion you feel all the way in the hairs on your head, you both rush to take your pants off, never once moving your lips from his.
With shaky fingers you undo the button of your jeans, and slide them down your hips, also helping Chris tug his sweats down. Everything seems to be happening so fast yet impossibly slow.
Continuing to kiss you, Chris reaches to touch your panties, feeling lace material he almost falls over in anticipation. He's so bricked up, he fears he's going to finish without even starting.
"Chris...oh..." His finger explores beneath your panty line, touching your soft skin there, then reaching to grab your hip and squeezing. The air is getting hard to breathe, Chris looks absolutely divine above you, his cheeks a putty pink and his lips swollen from your kisses.
"You are so beautiful," His hand appears on your face, you nuzzle into it. You feel gorgeous and like the only woman in the world under his twinkly gaze.
His eyes dip to your bare breasts, god they look so good, so pretty–sitting pretty.
Chris finally asks you, and you chuckle at his question, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Exhaling deeply, you're extremely sure, nodding up at him with pouty lips, and lustful eyes,"Yes."
And that's all Chris needs to hear, reaching above you to grab something from his nightstand, you giggle at his urgency to get this said thing as his lamp rattles, you bring yourself to hold his hips, all your fantasies coming to life with just having Chris above you.
Chris shoves his sweats and his boxers just enough to get his dick out, his glorious manhood that has your mouth watering. It was big, but not too big, and on the thicker side–fucking perfect. Tearing the condom packet open with his teeth, Chris suits himself up.
As you slide your panties off, you don't need anymore foreplay because with Chris wearing his glasses is a turn on in itself, you were wet and so fucking ready for him. Chris only lets you get one leg out when he is guiding those sexy legs of yours around him, your panties hanging off your right ankle.
Leaning back into you, he presses his body weight onto you, feeling his chest press into your breasts hugging them perfectly as he went in for more of those addicting kisses of yours.
"Shit you're perfect," Chris pulls away, grabbing your chin and focusing your attention on him, "if I would've known I would've known my glasses did this to you I would've worn them months ago..."
Feeling his hardness slide against your wet flesh, you gasp, your body covered in goosebumps awaiting the pleasure it anticipates, "you're so wet..." he adds what you already know.
"Chris," You moan, a wrinkle in your forehead, that tells him you were needy and wanting him. God he's so lucky to have this sexy woman naked on his couch, beneath him.
Reaching to touch him, because you can't anymore, you take the palm of your hand, licking it well with spit Chris watches you and falls more in love.
Your hand squeezes his shaft gently, moistening him up, before rubbing him up and down, falling in love with the rigidness gliding across your palm, your fingertips passing his sensitive tip, "oh fuck," he grunts a hard shiver runs through him, and reaches for your hand, holding it he takes your other hand and pushes both of your arms above your head.
Sliding into you, you've never felt this sensation before in your life. Never, ever. "Oh!" You scream, not being able to keep quiet as Chris moves his hips back just to enter you again, you soak his shaft in your wetness and he reaches to play with your tits.
"Fuck, baby." He squeezes both of your breasts before, leaning down to kiss your nipples, a shiver runs through you this time, causing your legs to shake around his narrow waist.
"Shit," you exhale, biting so hard into your bottom lip you don't know how you don't draw blood–your eyes fluttering backwards because of how good he was making you feel, deep strokes into your pulsing center had you seeing stars. Finding strength in your arms, you wrap them around him, drawing him in closer to you.
Chris picks the both of you up, and it turns you on even MORE how strong he is, situating you in his lap, you don't let go of his neck, meanwhile his hands wander your thighs and up towards your ass, feeling your ass and dwelling on the fact that he was actually squeezing it right now was too surreal for him.
Suddenly his manly hands are at your hips, the same time you start grinding over him, feeling his length slide in and out at you at an unmerciful pace, the wet sounds echoing in his quiet living room make you want him even more.
"Chris," You look into his eyes, desperate and as close as you were, who knew he'd be lusting over you as much as you were over him.
Chris thrusts his hips up, feeling that you were so close to your release, he wants to make you feel good–fuck–he wants to be the only one to make you feel good.
You were both sweaty, and heavy breathing, but both feeling on top of the world, "Baby," he husks, getting your attention, "kiss me," he juts his lips upwards wanting you to keep kissing him and you gladly do...oh very gladly.
Kissing him hard, he keeps the movement of your hips going, both of his hands appearing on your breasts, caressing his thumbs over your nipples–you really weren't going to last any longer.
Feeling the fiery pit of passion consume your entire being, you scream in pleasure into Chris's mouth, biting his bottom lip so hard as you pull away to take a proper breath you cut open his skin, "Chris!" you come with his name on your lips, your body in aftershocks from how good the orgasm is.
"Holy fuck," He keeps thrusting up into you, wandering his hands over your skin, dismissing the copper taste in his mouth, and consuming himself in the sensation your tight wet pussy is giving him.
Both of you melt into each other's arms, heavy breathing and somewhat tired, as Chris drags his fingertips over your back, gently soothing you, picking your head up you have courage to look at him–what's done is done.
"You're bleeding," Your eyes widen, and he sees you start to panic, quickly bringing you closer to him on his lap before you could get up and take the warming sensation he was feeling away, he grabs a tissue over on his table side.
"I'm fine. Actually, I'm fan-fucking-tastic." Chris dabs the spot on his lip where you had bit him, accidentally. "How would you like to come for wine and dinner...say tomorrow night?" he perks a flirty brow up at you, and you nudge his shoulder playfully.
"C'mere," he bows his head down, whispering which makes you hot all over again, "I want you to keep kissing me," he says, grabs your face with both his hands after tossing the tissue aside, and who were you to say no to him.
That handsome, flirty look of his especially with those glasses making you want to go for round 2.
The Next Day
"Good morning, Miss Y/l/n," Chris sees you walk down the hall, at the same time you always did every morning–however this morning you were running a bit late because after escaping his room earlier this morning...you had to go home and change and try to act like you didn't just fuck him all night.
"Good morning," You smile, and act normal, "Mr.Stan, how are you?"
Sebastian sees something was different, very different this morning. "I'm intrigued, Miss Y/l/n," he looks over at Chris, who wore a naughty smirk on his lips while looking at you...something was up here, "very intrigued."
You notice Chris had his glasses on again, that adorable grin of his taunting you, the both of you agreed to keep whatever was occurring between you both...a secret.
"Mr.Evans, I see you wore your glasses again today."
Chris sighs, "yeah, I've been told they suit me."
Making eyes at him, how some of your students may describe as "googly" eyes, Stan watches this all unfold in front of him...and now he was really intrigued.
The bell rings, and you quickly hide away in your classroom, to avoid Stan seeing you blush in front of Chris who was giving you bedroom eyes, to be you slept with him all night yesterday in his couch...then his bed.
God, he was so sweet to you though, pampering you inside and out with praises and reminding you how beautiful you were even long after you both were done...oh and gentle, but rough when you wanted him to be.
And most importantly he treated you like a princess and made you feel on top of the world...literally.
Chris walks into his own classroom, starting off the day like he did any other day.
But today the air seemed to smell better, crisper, and everything just seemed to be amazing. His students watch as he walks in all smiley, and sets up his board.
Playing football highlights while his students pretended to do a worksheet on it, Chris sits back and rises his feet onto his desk, when he notices all his students were just staring at him.
"What happened to your lip?" Ben, another player on Chris's football team, who is friends with Franklin, asks.
The rest of Chris's first period class remain silent, awaiting an answer from their history teacher, wondering what he was going to come up with. Mr.Evans definitely was the laid back teacher.
"You guys may be thinking something bad happened, but actually something pretty amazing happened to me...and this is evidence of that. Like I'm talking effing amazing."
Chris's students are used to him sort of cursing, they aren't little kids so Chris treats them as they are – young adults.
"Gross," Ben catches on pretty fast, wincing at Chris who was currently on cloud nine.
A/N🌈:
Eeek!! I hope you loved it. Thank you for being so supportive, thoughtful, and amazing and I just know you're going to have a magical birthday! 💛
After writing this I am sweating...WHEW! ❤️🔥 gotta love Chris with those damn glasses, he looks twice as handsome.
As always thank you to all of you beauties who read up until this point, I can't wait to see you guys in the next update and perhaps your request is next as I am always constantly writing! Muah love you all!!!