#Mr. Ben (SNL) x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

musings-of-a-rose · 1 year

Text

What the Hell Are Fancams?

Pairing: Teacher Ben (SNL) x f!reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Absolutely felt called out during the SNL sketch with Teacher Ben but I knew I had to write a little something for him. I'm pulling from my own experience as an ASL interpreter in the school system (glad I finally can incorporate it!). Thanks to @vanemando15 for her help in this and for being a beta!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Teacher Ben Masterlist

What the Hell Are Fancams? PART 2

New year, new school, new student. Such is the life of an American Sign Language interpreter when you work in schools.

My last student moved out of the district so I was assigned a different one. This student's interpreter wanted to go back to work with the little ones and while I loved my time with them, it was time to swap grades.

My student is amazing and comes from a rare family, in that she is the only member that is Deaf but everyone in her life learned ASL from the moment she failed her hearing test. In most families it's the complete opposite, causing significant language delays and isolation. It never fails to blow my mind how many people won't learn a language for their child, especially when they'd both be starting from the beginning.

This student, Chelsea, I had worked with from her time in pre-k to 5th grade. It was great already having an established repertoire with a student and we easily fell back into our normal chatter, her filling me in on anything I missed for the few years I was back in Pre-K.

So how's this school? I ask, as she's been here 2 years already.

Not bad. Teachers are mostly ok. Too much homework though.

That's usually the case with high school. Any favorite classes?

I like acting class, but my favorite teacher is Mr. Ben. He teaches marine biology. She gives me a look I can't discern at this.

Oh?

Yeah you know, like about the whales you like and other ocean stuff.

You're in marine bio 2 and you're calling it ocean stuff? Sounds like a great ocean stuff teacher.

She rolls her eyes at me. You know what I mean. Plus he's…

He's..what?

She smirks her mischievous smile that I know can only mean trouble. Nothing. Don't worry about it.

Chelsea-

Oh look we're at math class.

Saved by the bell, indeed.

After math was lunch, followed by marine biology. Since it was the first day, I decided to eat quickly and get to the next class a little early so I can start on my "who I am and where I and my student need to be placed" speel. Although he may not need it since Chelsea was in his class before. Still, you never know what a previous interpreter did.

I knock softly on the door and male voice tells me to come in. I push the door open and see that the teacher has his back to me, bent over his desk grabbing something. His very broad back.

"Uh hi. I'm the interpreter for your Deaf student for next period and I'm here to answer any questions-"

He turns around and I forget what I'm saying. Bright, brown eyes focus on mine, brown hair that looks so soft with greys starting to creep in, matching the patchy facial hair he has. His nose? Don't get me started on the thoughts I'm having about that nose. He's wearing a blue plaid shirt tucked into black pants, and a tie with tropical fish on it.

A faint pink dusts his cheeks when he looks at me. "H-hi. I'm Ben Morales. The kids call me Mr. Ben."

He holds out his hand and I shake it, willing my nerves to not come through it. God he's hot. I wonder if this is what Chelsea was talking about. In fact, I'm sure it is.

I launch into my speel, albeit a little faster than I normally would, but Ben just nods along and does whatever I ask of him.

"Do you have any questions?" I ask.

"Um… not right now. You're a little different than the last interpreter." He coughs and takes a sip from his water bottle.

"Ah yeah we all do things a little different. Is there anything that worked well for the student and you that I can accommodate?"

He chokes on his water, coughing violently. I move quickly, thumping him on the back but his face keeps getting redder.

"You-" He coughs "-want to go on-" He coughs more "- a date?"

It's my turn to have my cheeks heat up. "I- what? No I said accommodate… are you ok?"

He nods, muttering something like "Oh shit" under his breath as he turns away from me, his coughs dying down. But before we can talk more, the bell rings and students start moving about the halls.

"Well let me know if there's anything I can do to date you, Mr. Ben. ACCOMMODATE! Accommodate you!"

Fuck. Me.

A tap on my shoulder and I turn to see Chelsea, lips upturned in that mischievous smirk.

I see you've met Mr. Ben.

I have. He's…nice.

Yeah, nice. Is that why your face is all sweaty and warm?

What?

She laughs and takes her seat, eyes flicking between me and Mr. Ben as the bell rings and he starts his lecture.

—----

I find myself making it to that class a few minutes before the bell rings just to have a moment to talk to him. When I can talk, that is. I've never met someone who makes me trip over my words as much as he does. But soon, we settle into a routine, after bonding over our mutual love of orca whales. A couple weeks in, I bought him a brightly colored tie with orcas swimming on it. The smile he had could be seen from space.

Chelsea can't seem to wipe the smirk from her face whenever she sees us talking.

He likes you. Chelsea signs, giving me a wink.

Focus on your test, Chelsea.

It's hard to when you guys are up there yelling your love for each other. You should ask him out.

This has nothing to do with your classwork. And this is highly inappropriate.

She scoffs. You've known me forever.

Yes but you're not an adult.

I'll be 16 soon. And I'm not an idiot. Everyone knows you guys like each other.

What do you mean "everyone"?

She gestures around the room. Everyone. It's in the fancams too.

The..what?

F-A-N-C-A-M-S. She repeats the sign.

Thanks but I have no clue what that is.

She laughs and Mr. Ben walks over.

"Everything ok? Any questions?" He's talking directly to Chelsea and not addressing me, which is exactly what I told him to do on day one.

"No, I'm good Mr. Ben. I was just telling my interpreter about fancams." I voice for her, trying to keep my cool.

His face goes blank. "The what?"

She laughs. "You don't know?"

Before he can answer the bell rings and we head off to next period.

At the end of the day, Chelsea takes my phone and pulls up one of these fancams and wow. It's basically a Mashup of hidden video and photos taken of Mr. Ben that have been heavily edited and music added, making him look hot. How is this appro-

Oh shit I'm in this one. Apparently Chelsea is not the only one to try and push us together.

Shit.

The next day, I make it to his class early as usual. He walks from around his desk to lean sit in front of it.

"Hey Mr. Ben."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ben?"

I smile. "Sorry. Habit."

"Hey…so what was that fancam business from yesterday?"

Oh.

"I uh.."

"Please tell me. These kids all talk about them and I have no clue what they are."

"I don't-"

"Please?"

Oh God his eyes are all big and brown and just like a damn puppy.

I sigh, shaking my head when I realize that was audible and I'm staring too long into his eyes. I could get lost in those eyes.

I pull my phone out and walk over to him, leaning my butt against the desk next to him.

"Ok, so please remember that I was shown these and am in no way affiliated with the creation of the fancams."

He chuckles, leaning in closer to me. He smells good, like fresh parchment and aftershave.

"Are you ok?" He asks me.

"What? Oh yeah. Uh the fan cams."

I scroll through and pull one up, handing him my phone as it plays. His face becomes redder as it plays on.

"I uh..who…who made these?"

"I'm not sure. Chelsea said a bunch of the students did-"

"There's more than one??"

"Y-yeah. Look." I swipe through a few more until it settles on the one that puts us together. I try to swipe past it but he catches sight of it before I can.

"What was that one?"

"Oh nothing. It's nothing."

"But it had my face-"

"Just another fancam."

"And yours."

"Kids these days. They will make any-anything."

"I can't see it?"

"Uh nah you don't want to-"

"Oh I think I need to see it."

He's not pressuring me at all, more like flirting, but…that's not possible. There's no way he holds the same crush for me as I do for him, right?

My boldness coming from some tucked away insanity, I reach over and swipe the video back up, letting him watch it in its entirety.

"The kids…want us to go on a date?"

"Apparently so. C-crazy, right?" I swallow hard, hoping he can't hear the way my heart is pounding though my chest, his scent filling my head and making it very hard to focus.

"I don't think it's crazy."

RIIIIING!

That fucking bell ruins everything.

At the staff meeting the next morning, they ask for chaperones to the homecoming dance. Teachers groan but a few hands automatically go up, volunteering their evening. I raise mine too, Chelsea already telling me she had been asked to go by the person she'd been crushing on since last school year. They had spent the entire summer learning as much ASL as they could in order to talk to her, which was too touching for words and I know it meant the world to Chelsea. I won't have to follow her around but I'll be there in case of emergencies.

To my surprise, Ben raises his hand shortly after watching me raise mine. The admin takes down names and the meeting concludes, Ben catching up with me as I start to head out to homeroom.

"You're volunteering too?" He asks.

"Yeah. Chelsea is already going and while she doesn't necessarily need me, she asked me to come in case she does. I think she's nervous."

"That kid learned asl for her, right?"

I nod. "Yeah. She's super excited although she'll deny it."

"Sounds like her."

"Mmmhmm."

We walk together for a hall or two.

"I gotta go this way to homeroom."

"Oh. Right. Um, see you soon?"

"Yup. See you!"

—----

When I make it to his class at my usual time, I can see he's nervous about something, his eyes extra wide and small beads of sweat accumulating at his hairline.

"HI, Ben."

"H-hi."

Silence as I unpack, but then he's standing near me and all I smell is him.

"Can I ask you something?" He asks.

"Yeah of course."

"I…uh did.. um… would you-"

A student pops their head in, asking for clarification on the homework and he shakes his head, turning to help them.

—----

Homecoming arrives and I pick out a simple dress to wear. Not quite prom dress but definitely nicer than school attire. I head into the dance and get my assigned area and head there, milling about as people and students start to file in. Music blares as the dance starts andI feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning, Ben is standing there, a navy built suit, dark button up shirt and - the whale tie I had given him shortly after we met. His mouth is agape as he takes me in.

"You…you look…"

"Is that the tie I got you?

He picks up the end and looks at it. "Yeah. I thought it would go good with my outfit."

"Brings out your eyes."

"What?'

"What?"

Just then the music stops and switches to a slow dance, the DJ insisting that teachers should join in on this flashback. "True" by Spandau Ballet starts to play and a few staff members laugh and pull each other to the dance floor.

"D-doyouwanttodance?" Ben speaks so quickly that I can't understand him.

"What?"

He sighs, gathering up…courage?

"Do you want to dance?"

Oh.

"With…you?"

"Yes. But you don't have to if you don't want to-"

"No! I want to!" Shit, was that too enthusiastic?

He smiles, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants before offering me his hand. I take it, the warmth from his hand spreading into mine. He guides me to the dance floor and spins me to him, his hand hesitating over my hip. Gently, I place my hand over his and guide it to my hip, encouraging him to grip me with his fingers.

His eyes find mine as he leads, neither of us saying anything, just staring into each other's eyes. My stomach is in my chest and I swear he can feel my heart pumping out of my chest. He's wearing cologne tonight, but underneath it I can smell that familiar smell of him that makes me forget words. A minute passes before he leans in and speaks in my ear.

"You know we're going to be in another fancam because of this, right?"

I laugh. "You're probably right. But it's worth it."

He pulls back and looks at me again, his brown eyes sparkling as he stares deep into my eyes. The song ends but Ben doesn't drop my hand or my hip.

"Will you come with me for a second?" He asks.

"Of course."

Removing his hand from my hip, he winds his fingers through mine and pulls me through the crowd of students and out of the side door, turning down the hallway and moving away from the cafeteria doors.

"Ben, what-"

He spins me around and pulls me tight to his body. His eyes flicker between mine and I can feel the nervous tension bubble between us threatening to pop.

And then it does.

His hands come up and cup my face, bringing his lips to mine as he places the softest kiss to my lips. He pulls back and I follow him, unwilling to let him go.

"Was that ok? I should have asked before-"

I grip the tie around his neck and pull him to me, deepening the kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, better than anything I could imagine. His hands are gentle, one sliding around to the back of my head and the other settling on my hip, pulling me in closer. A slight moan from him goes straight through me and I can feel myself getting warm.

The doors bang open and we fly apart, laughing nervously when the students that had come through the doors disappear down the hall to the bathroom without even spotting us.

"Dinner?"

"Are you asking me on a date, Ben?"

He pushes his body back against mine, having felt my tug on his belt.

"I am." His voice is somehow deeper and it goes straight between my thighs.

"I'd love to."

He kisses me again and starts to put away, but I grip his tie tighter and pull him back down. His eyebrows scrunch together in a question.

"Let's go check if your classroom is empty."

The question drops, lips hitching up in a knowing smile as he slides his fingers between mine, pulling me down the hall to his room.

—----

What the Hell Are Fancams? Part 2>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics

#teacher ben #mr ben #snl #saturday night live #pedro pascal snl #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction

637 notes · View notes

ktwritesstuff · 1 year

Text

The Professor (Pedro Pascal smut inspired by SNL)

Title: The Professor Fandom: RPF: Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Pedro Pascal (professor of Latin American Studies) x Reader (bedraggled PhD candidate) Word Count: ~2000 Summary: As if that SNL skit wasn't going to launch a thousand smut fics... As always, lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes below the cut.

Notes: This is my first "real person fic," may God have mercy on my soul. Additionally, my Spanish is virtually non-existent; I've relied heavily on Google Translate and asking my coworkers questions on the sly, my apologies for any errors! As we all know, this is not a story about actual human Pedro Pascal, but the fictionalized version which lives rent free in our heads. And as proper fan girl culture dictates, we keep this shit locked down. But just in case:

This note is for actual human Pedro Pascal and Pedro Pascal only. I don't know why you would click "Read More" on a post clearly labeled "Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU" but if you have, I beg of you LOOK AWAY, SIR. LOOK AWAY. If you choose to proceed, I will not be responsible for any trauma you may suffer as a result. Thank you.

For everyone else, I give you:

The Professor

Professor Pedro Pascal was the head of the Latin American Studies department at your small college. You had never been in his classes as an undergrad–Latin American Fiction and Poetry, and a special seminar on the Magical Realism of Isabel Allende–but it was well known around campus that his family had fled Pinochet when he was a child, which granted him unsurprising street cred among your communist-leaning circle of friends. He had been appointed the interim director of the campus’s Literary Center–after his predecessor was ousted for exposing himself in a virtual meeting.

As the Center’s Graduate Assistant Director, it meant although he wasn’t technically your boss, you were suddenly spending an annoying amount of time working around the throngs of freshman girls who flocked to his office hours. You couldn’t really blame them. He was, if not an outright heartthrob, a reasonably good-looking college professor. A strong face, with a short, rugged beard, a striking Roman nose, and deep brown eyes with the most charming crow's feet. He had a lean physique, with a hint of softness at the belly, just this side of a “dad bod.”

His modest good looks combined with a cheerful disposition and a penchant for quoting the love poetry of Pablo Neruda were like catnip for liberal arts majors. And although you were a card-carrying bra-burning feminist, you weren’t entirely immune.

“Professor,” his office door was open, but you knocked on the frame.

Pedro looked up from the stack of resumes you had been sent to review before the selection panel for a new director.

“Coffee?”

“Mi angelita,” he sighed, rising from his desk to graciously accept the warm cup from your hands. “What time is the first candidate arriving?”

“Noon,” you said. “You, me, Dr. Monroe, the Provost, and Assistant Dean are sitting on the interview panel.”

Pedro looked at his watch.

“Shit,” he sighed. “I have Intro to Creative Writing at 9:30.”

“I’ll set up the conference room,” you said as he shoved his papers into his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder, still carrying the open mug as he raced down the stairs.

“Thank you, Angel. Thank you!”

It was a six month process to find a new director. Six months of staring across the conference table, chewing on the end of your pen, pretending not to be affected by the way he leaned in when you spoke and stroked his thumb across his lower lip in concentration. Or the obscene way he spread his legs in a comfortable chair while speaking with candidates in front of a panel of students.

And having to do it all over again when your first choice–a student favorite–declined the position, to stay in New Jersey of all things. You knew Pedro was relieved to have reached a conclusion; he didn’t care for the administrative duties or politics. He wanted to teach, to be with his students. You admired that about him, he appreciated your organizational skills (and the fact that when you made coffee it counted as a meal.) You worked well together, but now that was coming to an end.

It was past 9pm and you had already closed up the Literary Center for the night, but Pedro was still in his office, reviewing students’ papers.

“I’m done for the night, Professor,” you said. “Is there anything I can do to help you get out of here?”

“That depends,” he said, with a wry smile that had you convinced he was only half-kidding. “How’s your Spanish?”

“Hmm,” you said, stepping into the light of the desk lamp. “¿Dónde está la biblioteca? ¿Como estas? Bien, gracias. ¡Qué lluvia! And that’s all I’ve got.”

Pedro chuckled. “I’ve heard worse.”

“That and un tequila, por favor.”

“Tequila,” Pedro repeated, intrigued. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of Patron. “That I can help you with.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Professor,” you deadpanned. “I don’t know if you knew this, but alcohol is not permitted in academic buildings.”

"Lucky for me," he said, picking up the bottle. "I have tenure."

You laughed and Pedro laughed; you offered to run downstairs to retrieve a pair of glasses and a salt shaker from the kitchen while he finished grading papers in record speed.

“I worry about these kids,” Pedro said, three shots deep. “I do! The moment they hear something the least bit troubling, they refuse to engage with the material. Our world exists in shades of gray. They want things to be ideologically pure, when what they need is to learn to discern. To question. To decide!”

“I understand what you’re saying, Professor,” you said.

“Pedro, please,” he interrupted you. “Pedro.”

“Pedro,” you repeated. “I agree, but there’s no reason we need to elevate and spotlight the same tired canon of bigots, abusers, and dead white men year after year when there is so much more out there.”

Pedro downed another shot and pointed an accusing finger at you.

“Look who’s talking,” he said. “Your PhD is in Shakespeare Studies!”

“I know,” you laughed, pouring yourself another glass. “I know, I’m a terrible person.”

“You are not,” he said, suddenly serious. “You have an incredible mind and the most beautiful way of looking at the world.”

You felt languid and relaxed and warm. You liked the way Pedro looked at you. There was something undeniably romantic about getting drunk in the richly furnished office, with its leather armchairs and oak bookshelves, debating the merits of Nietzsche and bell hooks.

“Okay,” you broke the silence. “Okay, here’s a fun fact you can pass along to your successor. There are 3 prints signed by Allen Ginsberg in this building, and you can see them all from this desk.”

“There’s the one on the wall,” Pedro said, pointing to the framed portrait hanging above the bookshelf.

“Yes,” you said, rising from your chair and moving to the other side of the desk. “And there in the hallway, on the right, that's an excerpt from "Howl" they set in the printshop downstairs.”

You perched on the arm of his chair to get closer to his eye-level, pointing through the open door. You slipped, nearly falling into his lap and he placed a hand on your back to steady you. He smelled amazing, like old leather and warm spices.

“And there, in the stairwell, you can just make out the top of his head on that linotype,” you explained. “Do you see it?”

“I do.”

When you turned your head, Pedro was looking at you. Perhaps it was the tequila, but you were almost certain he was staring at your lips, his eyes heavily lidded, smiling lazily.

“You look tired,” you warned. You should have gotten up to leave, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want this warm, lovely feeling to ever end.

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?”

“Kissing you,” he said.

You were almost surprised; you had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that your semester-long flirtation was a one-sided puppy crush. You had been so busy with your research and recruiting and planning, you had forgotten somewhere along the way that you were a stone cold fox with tits and ass for days and enough sex appeal to blow the top off Mount St. Helens.

“You can,” you said, turning your body toward him. “I don’t mind.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Fine then,” you turned to stand.

Pedro seized you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and into a long, slow kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft and his mouth tasted like salt and lime as his tongue brushed into yours with careful, confident strokes.

“That was nice,” your eyes fluttered open as Pedro finally pulled away. “You’re a good kisser.”

“You, too,” Pedro said. “Again?”

You tilted your chin, touching the point on your neck, just below your ear. As Pedro leaned in, working the beginnings of a hickey into your neck, you guided his hands from your waist to your breasts. You pressed against him, moving to straddle his thigh.

“More?” Pedro asked.

“Yes,” you panted. You braced yourself on the back of the chair, one hand on either side of his head, grinding against his leg, feeling hot and wet as he kneaded your breasts with reverent appreciation.

“Mi amor,” he breathed.

“Pedro,” you held his face, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Dime, lo qué quieres.”

“Fuck.” His accent went straight to your cunt. You ran one hand up his thigh, groping at the crotch of his chinos.

Pedro let out an obscene moan and hoisted you up onto his desk. He slid his hands up your thighs, fingers slipping into your panties. He ran his fingertips through your folds, tracing circles around the swollen nub of your clit with an absolute shit-eating grin.

“Qué lluvia.”

You howled with laughter. “I know that one! I know that one!”

“A huevo.”

Pedro rose from his chair, bunching your dress up around your waist. You pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his pants, running your hands up the warm skin of his back.

“Want you,” you sighed. “Want you inside me.”

“Whatever you want, Angelita.”

Pedro pulled your underwear down to your ankles, pausing to retrieve a condom from the wallet in his back pocket, like an over-eager undergrad, pulling down his pants to roll it on. He pressed the head of his cock against your clit. You grabbed him by the ass, wrapping your legs around him to guide him into you.

Pedro flicked his hips into you with short, quick strokes, sending jolts of energy through your core.

“More,” you pleaded breathlessly. “Deeper.”

Pedro lifted your ankles onto his shoulders, pressing into you long and slow until you could feel him bumping against your cervix. You gasped, reaching behind you, scrambling for leverage, knocking the computer monitor off the desk.

“Oh no!” You turned, trying to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

“It’s okay!” Pedro said, taking your face in his hands to guide your gaze back to his eyes. “It’s a shitty computer. It’s fine.”

You moaned, letting your head fall back, grabbing for his chest with one hand as he fucked you.

“So soft,” he moaned against your ear. “So fucking good for me, Angel.”

“Give me your hand,” you said, guiding his fingers back to your clit. “Up and down, right there. Oh God.”

You grabbed Pedro’s shoulder to brace yourself.

“I’m close,” he warned.

“Not yet,” you pleaded. “Just a little more.”

You could feel your own climax building inside you. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Oh God!”

Pedro came inside you with a gasp as your inner walls clenched around him. He slowly withdrew, supporting your legs, and easing you onto your back, scattering papers and pens onto the floor. He kissed your neck and your breasts as his hands explored the curves of your body.

You woke the next morning on the couch in Pedro’s office. You were lying on top of him; your head on his chest. He had his arms around you, your head was pounding as you squinted into the daylight.

“We got fucked up last night?” you said.

“Yup.”

“It was nice."

"It was," Pedro agreed, kissing the top of your head as you blinked sleep from your eyes.

"What time is it?”

You grabbed his forearm, turning it so you could look at the face of his watch.

“Oh shit,” you gasped. “I have Freshman Seminar in half an hour.”

“I already missed my morning classes,” Pedro moaned, letting his head fall back against the armrest.

“Do you want to explain to Dr. Monroe why I can’t teach her class?” you said, rising from the couch and searching the office floor for your underpants.

“No,” Pedro said. “She scares me.”

You pulled your underwear back on, finding your bag, you used the satin scarf tied around the handle to cover the love-bites blooming on your throat and chest. You dabbed concealer under your eyes and added a fresh coat of red lipstick.

“Would you like to have lunch together? Not at the Caf. Somewhere nice, like a date.” Pedro asked, sitting up. He looked endearingly child-like with his bedhead and giant brown eyes.

You paused, checking your reflection in your compact mirror.

“Can we do that?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not,” he said. “You were never my student and after this week we won’t even work together any more.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I’ll pack things up here and meet you after class.”

You smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

#rpf: pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hot for teacher AU #mr. ben has us in a chokehold #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal x you

662 notes · View notes

demigoddessqueens · 1 year

Text

secret admirer

A/N — Can’t believe I’m writing for a one-time sketch character but it’s a Pedro character and 🤣😆 I just adored him

Summary: Mr. Ben receives an unlikely gift from a…secret admirer?

Tagging @loveforfandomsstuff

Pairing - Mr Ben x new teacher!reader

Valentine’s Day was always hectic at the school. Students clamoring to pass out their gifts and cards, teasing, and the overflowing heaps of discarded candy wrappers.

But it brought a smile to Ben’s face seeing the students enjoy themselves. Reminded him of back when he was young and in love….

Amidst all the chaos, Ben noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket. Fishing out, he saw a message from a number he didn’t recognize yet along with its following musical fancam attachment.

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Here’s to hopefully talking to you soon

Adoringly,

Your secret admirer

At that, Ben quickly alerted his students about the imposing message.

“Class, what did I say since our last assembly about these…fancams? Who sent this?”

“Not me!” “Who, Mr. Ben??” “Mr Ben has a secret admirer?!?” “Who’s the lucky one??”

As you were rushing by to handle your next class of students, you heard the commotion coming from Mr. Ben’s home room along with a quick glance of his blushing face.

You tried your best to hide the growing smile on your heated cheeks as you walked on. Given that this was your first year as a teacher here, you were quickly smitten with such a man.

He was a kind man, a good listener and always made you laugh in the teacher’s lounge, and sat by you at the assemblies. Granted, you wanted to take things a bit further, and maybe this was the spark you needed.

#my writing #pedro pascal #snl #mr ben #Mr Ben x reader #pedropascaledit #nbc snl #Mr Ben x you #saturday night live #fanfic #writeblr #Mr Ben x y/n #can be read as crack or au 🤣#Valentine’s Day fic #pedro pascal x reader #teacher Ben #teacher Ben x reader

286 notes · View notes

ozarkthedog · 1 year

Note

Could I also request something for Mr. Ben using #89 from the prompt list? 😊💗💗

summary: the repercussions of sending your boyfriend nudes while he's at work.

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING?!”

warnings: 18+ only. Mr. Ben x fem!Reader. spanking. fingering. dirty talk.

word count: 628

author's note: thank you so much for celebrating and putting this obscene thought in my brain. hope you rot in horny jail with me. 💙 FIRST TIME WRITING MR. BEN!

✨10K Birthday Celebration✨

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING?!”

You almost spit your wine all over the dining room table as your boyfriend, Ben, stands before you aghast.

It was harmless fun, really it was. You had some time to kill after lunch and thought he’d enjoy the naughty surprise. It was rather stupid in the long run to send him topless photos while he was at work but you’d barely seen him all week and your hormones got the best of you.

“Thank god I didn’t have my phone connected to the monitor!” His hands perched on his hips as pins you with a hard stare. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You squirm in your seat. His tone is harsh, leaving no room for error. You fucked up big time.

You shake your head and begin to apologize but clicks his tongue and stalks towards you.

“Too late.” He hisses.

With ease, he tugs you from the chair only to take your place as he tosses you over his lap. “Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson.”

In a flash, he yanks your panties and leggings half way down your thighs and locks your legs together. You teeter on his lap, his solid muscly thighs press crudely into your curves as you sweetly beg forgiveness.

“Hush, Baby.” Ben’s chest rumbles as he smooths his hand over your ass. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you bent over like this. Taking your punishment like a good girl. Made me so fuckin’ hard.”

A heavy hand lands on your rump with a thwap. You jolt and grab his calf as the pain radiates across your flesh. Your head hangs between your shoulders as you bite back the whimpers that threaten to fall spank after spank.

“You’ll be my good girl, right?” He grabs the base of your hairline and yanks your head back. His nose grazes your cheek as he nuzzles his lips against your jaw. “Answer me.”

He carelessly rubs the tender, raised skin on your ass forcing a whine to bubble from your lips.

“Yes, please. I’m sorry.” You sniffle and yelp when he tugs on your locks.

“Thatta girl.” He beams before lowering your head to hang once more.

His sinful touch moves lower, nestling thick fingers between your thighs, he finds you slick and wanting. “Lookit’ you getting soaked from a punishment.” He tsks. “What am I gonna do with you?”

You mewl as he spears you open with his fingers. He deviously glides his thick digits across every spot that makes you see stars and leaves you breathless. “You’re making a mess. Can you hear it?” A continuous sticky sound hits your ears with each overwhelming thrust of his wrist.

“You know, this isn’t how a good girl is supposed to behave.” His condescending tone has you lurching in his lap. Suffocating bliss fogs your mind and seeps into your bloodstream. “Good girls don’t drip down their thighs from getting spanked.”

Your grip on his calf gets tighter as the pleasure mounts and races up your spine. He wickedly curls his fingers, zeroing in on the spongy spot behind your clit as your cunt pulses and constricts. “That’s it. Good girl.”

With a shout, you cum around his fingers and he continuously fucks you through your orgasm despite your whimpers of protest.

You hear him groan as he sucks your cream off his fingers. His hard cock pokes into your belly and ignites a searing burst of arousal deep in your belly. He slips you onto your knees between his thighs and you come face to face with his throbbing cock hidden beneath his slacks.

“Now you show me how sorry you really are.”

#mr. ben #mr. ben x reader #mr. ben x you #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal

239 notes · View notes

wyn-n-tonic · 1 year

Text

Well Read

Pairing: Teacher Ben (SNL) x f!reader Word Count: 3.0k+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV. Naughty teacher fantasy talk. Breeding kink. Author's Note: The brainrot settled in fast on this one. The gif is just a gif, there are no descriptions of reader.

Please follow @wyn-writing and turn on updates for notifications. You can sign up for my taglist HERE.

Masterlist

Thunder rattles the old windows in the half rotten frames of the classroom. The glass panes barely hanging on as rain leaks through the small openings around the window air conditioning unit you had to buy with your own money.

It’s been three years and barely hanging on, having been run for eight hours or more every day all school year long.

Ben laughed the first cold day when he walked in and heard the heavy hum, even laughed until you turned it off and let him feel for himself that it’s the only airflow in the otherwise gas range oven that is your classroom.

Everybody has already gone home, it’s well passed three and all the kids who aren’t in electives or detention have left to go live their lives.

Not you, though. Your planning hour was spent breaking up a brawl between hormonal teenage boys fighting over… fucking PokeMon cards because it is apparently still the fucking nineties. No planning hour means now you’re here well after work.

Because that’s the rule this year—work stays at work.

The other half of that is that home stays at home but that doesn’t stop Ben from pushing through the door before knocking.

His own backpack is slung over his shoulder, lunchbox in hand, and he asks if you’re almost finished. “Come on, I want to get dinner started.”

“Then go get dinner started.”

Not cold but not warm either. Flat. Voice pressured down from a day of shit just building higher on shit.

“We drove in together, sweetheart,” he reminds you. “Your car’s in the shop.”

“I'll take a Lyft,” you shrug, only glancing back up at him long enough catch the way his face falls. “I'll see you at home, I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“Hey.” His voice is gentle and you hear the sound of his bags falling on a desktop; hear his footfalls coming closer until his large hand is covering yours. He takes the pen out of your hand and lifts your chin to look up at him with the other. “Let’s call it quits today, it’s been a tough one and I think that you could really use a nice dinner and an even bigger glass of wine.”

“But—“ You gesture to the pile of essays that need to be graded; the blank test template you need to make copies of. There are no more words left in you today, they’re defeated out by the storm and the air conditioner and the bells and the fighting and all the talking back.

Ben smirks. “Mark all of them with an A, give the kids a break because you need a break, sweetheart, let’s go home.”

“That's not fair, Benjamin,” you tell him. “That’s not fair to the kids who put the work in on these essays to give everybody the same score.”

He closes my planning book next and takes my hand. “You know what’s not fair? That you don’t give yourself a break—ever. It’s not fair that I had to put a hard rule down on work stuff being brought into our home the moment we moved in together.”

"Please just let me bring this home today, Benny,” you practically plead. “I’ll finish while you’re making dinner and then I’m all yours, I’ll take a break.”

Eyes hardening, he shakes his head. “No, sweetheart, because your idea of a break isn’t what you actually need. What you need”—he bends down, voice lowered—“is a hot bath, a glass of wine and to get every thought absolutely fucked out of your brain.”

While he lets those words settle into your ears, he takes your hand and examines your nails. “I like this color,” he says, the pad of his rough thumb swiping over the polish. “Brianna’s getting better at this every time and if you don’t think you’re a good teacher because you put yourself first for one night, I want you to think of the very huge impact you have on students like her just by letting her do your nails during study hall.”

Laughing, you tell him you doubt that. “You're her favorite teacher, she said you’re the first one to not make her read dumbass shit she’s not interested in.”

“No, you’re her favorite,” he insists, coming around the desk to start packing up my bag for me. “She told me that you let her paint your nails and listen to music even if it has curse words.” He stops, looks down at you. “I also think she’s trying to set us up… should we let her know we’re getting married?”

“Oh, are we getting married, Benjamin?” You ask him, arms crossed. “People who are getting married usually set a date, we’re just engaged.”

“For now.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

Deep breath. “It will be if you don’t get your ass in the car and let me take you home.”

Wine in hand, you watch him work from the doorway, wondering how long it will take him to notice you there. On nights that he cooks, the routine is always similar; he puts you in the bath with a very large glass of wine and a book and he takes to the kitchen with headphones in his ears and two deep lines of concentration between his eyebrows.

No headphones are in tonight, though. Instead, his audiobook plays loudly from the speaker beside the stove. On the way home, he asked if everything was okay other than the school day getting to you. Even with confirmation that you were fine, he squinted his eyes and tried to study you—to read you.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” He asks, not looking up from the task at hand. “Or are you going to come over here and kiss me?”

Taking the glass from your hand, he takes the final drink and sets it to the side. “We'll refill that later. How do you feel?”

“Better.” And you can finally appreciate the way his pants are hugging him today; the soft slope of his belly slight but visibly accentuated by the way the belt cuts into him. “You haven’t untucked your shirt.”

“Was I supposed to?” He laughs.

“I mean… you’re home but”—palming the thick bulge over the black polyester, you push closer—“I’m glad you didn’t, I haven’t gotten to appreciate how handsome you look today.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure there will be another fan cam tomorrow,” he whispers, fingers brushing along the swell of your cheek. “Do you want to eat and then”—lips drawn tight, he rocks his head back and forth in suggestions—“or do you want to do that and then eat?”

“You,” you tell him, fingers hooked into his waistband to pull him further as you stand up on your tiptoes. “My head hurts and I want you and everything else comes second.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He switches the burners off with enthusiasm and follows you through to the living room, large hands crawling up the t-shirt that you stole just to land on your bare hips with wide eyes. “Are you not wearing panties?”

“Wanted to make your job easier for you.”

All his soothing words make the days and the nights and everything that is hard better; they make everything that is good great. Three years ago when this idiot wandered into your classroom to introduce himself as your new neighbor, he caught you on a similarly bad day and it annoyed the shit out of you. Especially after he made fun of all your maps.

Now, he’s pulling his sweater over his head and tossing it to the side after throwing you into the never made ocean of sheets and blankets that is your bed. Your shared bed in your shared home.

He starts to pull at the button up, untucking it slowly and struggling with the buttons out of nerves. That bulge of his is already so much larger than when you groped him in the kitchen and the belt buckle is moving with every shallow, belly breath he takes.

“Come here,” you say, pushing yourself up to your knees and moving forward towards him. “Let me help.”

Even when he’s the one in charge, this confident man with his soft brown eyes, he fumbles under nerves like he’s half expecting you to lash out in impatience. It’s what his ex did and you’re not a fan of her for it—or anything else for that matter—but there’s something about the relief of safety that washes over him in these moments that warm you up to the tips of your ears.

You can trust him with your bad days just as much as your good; he can trust you with his insecurities just as much as his confidences.

“You know,” you start, buttons easily coming undone with the work of your fingers. “Sometimes I think about coming into your classroom on your planning period and having you take me right there on your desk.”

“On my desk?” He asks through a smile. “Baby, you know how much trouble we’d get in.”

“Only if we get caught, Mr. Ben,” you whisper against his lips as you push the fabric off his broad shoulders. “Come on, I’ve always had a hot for teacher fantasy.”

“You are feeling better,” he smiles. “Maybe you don’t need me to fuck your brain empty after all.”

He does it to make you beg and, despite knowing this, you fall for it every time—whine for him every time.

A soft push meets your shoulders and he nods back to the pillows in encouragement.

“Don't take your belt off yet,” you beg him as he follows you up on the mattress but he only laughs, says he has to because he’s been aching after you for hours and needs a little relief now.

Hours but you’ve only been home for one, maybe two. “Are you saying this isn't just about making me feel better?”

He shakes his head, lips pursed, and he throws the belt over to the side as well. “You’re ovulating,” he says, “and the only thing I have thought about since I woke up and checked our fertility calendar is how badly I’ve wanted to get you home and put a baby in you.”

Oh god, that explains so much.

Laying back under his guidance, you spread your legs open for him and watch him take you in. Years now and it doesn’t get old; soft brown eyes studying you in silent awe, mouth open with the occasional smirk pulling up a corner of his lips. It’s like he’s reading how you want it from him and you hope he never stops.

Leaning forward between your legs, he takes a deep breath and then spits on your aching center, eyes up towards you as it falls. He doesn’t wait long after that—doesn’t play with his food as he likes to joke.

Everything is on fire already as he lays an open mouthed kiss to your core, soft moans vibrating into you and up through your own throat as you grab for his hair.

He’s a ravenous kind of lover when he wants to be but tonight he seems more focused on taking you apart slowly with the warm press of his tongue between your legs.

Not long and you’re crying for him, actually crying. Softly sobbing his name out as his nose rubs against your clit with his tongue buried deep into your entrance for more than just a taste.

You can feel him smiling with every shuddering breath as you grasp for purchase on the sheets and pleasure floods your brain.

Then he takes his mouth away, face shining with your slick as your eyes meet with some kind of electric charge between you as your chests rise and fall in time with one another.

“I feel like I should probably take your temperature,” he says finally, large hands held out as if he’s weighing his options. “Make sure your cute body is the right environment for implantation right now but—“

He goes on but you’ve tuned that out, focused in on the deep wells his fingers make as they curve over in a half closed fist. Everything about him is so gentle, including those hands and the way they hold you—the way you know they’d hold your baby.

“You're not a science teacher,” you finally say. “So save the lesson and let me make you a dad.”

It was one of the first things he ever told you—maybe the second or the third date—when you talked about your dreams and does life now look like what you wanted when you were younger. He’d said his biggest dream was to be a dad. Maybe you shouldn’t have fallen in love with him on those words alone but there was something about him that just made sense and fit perfectly into all your big dreams and big plans too.

You could see a future with this man—a family and years of happiness in those soft brown eyes.

Pants off now, he fists himself as he crawls back onto the bed. You just had sex two nights ago and, yet, somehow you feel like you haven’t been full for him in weeks. The thunder hasn’t stopped either and it’s amplifying how intense it all feels with him right now but, then, it always does when he talks about the big, life altering things he wants with you.

Slowly, he pushes in, grip on your hips tightening with every aching inch he gives to you until he’s fully seated. Those hands run up the expanse or your body beneath your shirt as he gathers the fabric and gently pulls it over your head as you lift up towards him. Only then, after a quick look down your body to the place you’re both connected, does he lay himself down on you.

Face still shiny with what you’ve given him already, he smiles into the small, closed lipped kiss he presses into you.

“Your mustache is soaked,” you tell him when he pulls back, trying to ignore the pulsing inside of you.

Those lines of concentration back between his eyebrows, he nods and starts to pull out of you before pushing back in with a groan. “And this needy little pussy is why.”

“Is pussy an appropriate word for a highly educated English teacher to be using?” You ask, goading him into coming back down and pressing that tongue of his into your mouth this time. “Such profanities are unbecoming of such a man—“

“Your cunt,” he interrupts you, one hand coming up to rest around your throat, “is so wet that I can feel it pulling me deeper and all I’m doing is just sitting here, looking at you and trying not to bust early.”

“It's okay if you do," you shrug. “You've already given me an orgasm.”

But he shakes his head and leans back down, tells you to open your mouth and spits there too before pushing his tongue flat down on yours. It catches you off guard just enough that his first real thrust is even more of a surprise and that grip he holds on your throat moves to cradles the back of your head.

The sounds in the bedroom are lewd and only covered by the sound of the rain and thunder that continue to shake the walls of your home.

He’s not rushing, though. Not trying to run through you like just another task. The care he takes with and the concentration he places into you are the reasons you find yourself over the edge in such achingly efficient time. But that doesn’t mean he follows you over and calls it a night.

No, he takes his time until you’re nothing but jelly in his hold. Eyes glazed over, curls wrapped around your fingers and begging for breath and God and him with every thrust that feels like it goes deeper and deeper.

“Are you going to make fun of me if I tell you I love you?” You ask against his lips as his concentration and pace both start to falter. “Because ovulating or not, you would’ve still fucked me like this just for having a bad day and I-I—oh fuck—” Your muscles are seizing up beneath the surface of your skin and it pushes a moan straight into his greedy mouth.

“I would never make fun of you,” he breathes out heavily. “I would fuck you like this even if we couldn’t have kids; I will fuck you like this on every good day or bad day you have for the rest of your life if that’s what you want.”

Languid and slow, the way his tongue moves against yours is confusing your interpretation of his rhythm between your legs even as it picks up again. Every nerve in your body is screaming for him, alive and on fire beneath him and around him with his soft kisses and hard thrusts.

A deep sigh of relief finally leaves his lips as he swells inside of you and warmth rushes through you and out around him to start pooling and cooling beneath your bare body.

Being finished doesn’t mean he leaves though. He stays inside of you, twitching and thrusting occasionally as he continues kissing you with his hands hooked around your shoulders and every ounce of his body weight pressing down into you.

This man treats you with an intimacy you never knew could exist. Not for you, at least. He is hungry and in love and both insatiable for and always satisfied with you. He reads you like he wrote you; knowledge of your body and your brain and your heart encoded so deeply into him and you know—you feel it deep down in the pit of your being—that this will only grow as you do and your family does.

"Did that help get all the thoughts out of your head, sweetheart?” He asks, laying his forehead against yours.

A few deep breaths is all the confirmation he needs until, finally, you say, “I think I forgot to turn off the air conditioner.”

#lol what to tag this as?#teacher ben my beloved #teacher ben (snl)#mr. ben (snl)#teacher ben x reader #teacher ben x you #teacher ben fanfiction #mr. ben x reader #mr. ben x you #lmao wtf #snl #saturday night live #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #o writes

352 notes · View notes

trulybetty · 4 months

Text

11 x dream - mr. ben (snl) x reader

prompt: dream pairing: ben x reader word count: 357 notes: fluff and betty's dated english degree pulling apart poetry to strong arm into this drabble summary: just a little stolen moment

A/N: this is new territory, writing for Ben - we can thank @wildemaven and her stunning moodboard, and @gnpwdrnwhiskey's tags that spurred this. Happy Wednesday all and Happy Valentine's if you celebrate! 💕

x. masterlist

The college hallways were congested with students, and you weaved in and out of their clusters to reach the end of the hall in the limited time you had before your next lessons started. Your bright pink loafers set the pace, on theme for the day at hand, Valentine's Day, for your planned little escape from routine.

Slipping quietly into his office, you found him buried in a mountain of papers, his focus a testament to his dedication. “Guess who?” you whispered, covering his eyes with your hands.

Startled, Ben paused, a smile soon spread across his face as he recognized your touch. “Could it be the art thief here to steal my heart again?” he joked in reference to the department you worked in, turning to pull you into a warm embrace.

“I thought I'd already stolen it for good,” you retorted playfully, presenting him with a handmade Valentine.

He laughed as he took in the crude valentine made from recycled textbook pages and a post-it note, “Quite imaginative,” his fingers ran over the looped cursive of your handwriting and his smile turned soft as he recognized the lines from one of his favourite poems.

What could there be more purely bright In Truth’s day-star?

“You are the brightness that dreams only pale in comparison to,” he kissed your hand he'd taken in his. “But I'm afraid I have nothing for you here. It's home.”

“Well,” you remarked as you turned his office chair to face you, leaning over and placing your hands on either side of him, resting them on the padded armrests. “I think there's a way for you to make up for that,” you assured him, leaning in for a soft kiss that spoke volumes.

The kiss deepened, a silent conversation of love and longing, before you both reluctantly pulled away, mindful of the time.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Ben sighed, his hands lingering at your waist.

“We will have all the time in the world soon enough,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. “Now, let's steal a few more moments before we have to face the world again.”

#x29 valentines #mr. ben (snl)#mr. ben (snl) fanfiction #mr. ben (snl) fanfic #mr. ben (snl) x you #mr. ben (snl) x reader #mr. ben (snl) x gn!reader #mr. ben (snl) x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

48 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 4 months

Text

Mr. Ben (SNL) Masterlist

Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You Have Me In a Chokehold - smut | AO3

Type: one shot Word Count: 2.5k Summary: You’re a teacher at Mr. Ben’s school and you’re sitting in the “No More Fancams” assembly freaking out because he just showed your fancam on screen… Do you think he knows it was you? Tags: no ages implied (all legal obvi), hair pulling, sir kink, very mild degrading language, fingering, unprotected PiV (don’t be silly, wrap your willy) (also y’all are teachers, you should know better), rough-ish sex but no one gets hurt, Mr. Ben is girthy (Big Ben ;) ), brief mention of the picture of dorian gray, which deserves its own warning if you’ve ever tried to teach that book to teenagers, extreme cringe in the first half. Gets weirdly fluffy at the end so if that kills your vibe just stop reading after the uhhhh climax of the story (if you catch my drift). Sorry we support aftercare in this house

#Mr. Ben #Mr. Ben (SNL)#Mr. Ben fanfiction #Mr. Ben (SNL) fanfiction #Mr. Ben x you #Mr. Ben x Reader #Mr. Ben (SNL) x reader #Mr. Ben (SNL) x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #mr. ben masterlist #nav #mr. ben fics #mr. ben (snl) fics

7 notes · View notes

beskarandblasters · 6 months

Text

Under the Mistletoe

Mr. Ben (SNL) x Teacher!Reader

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Mr. Ben Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to @hellishjoel for including me in this cute lil celebration! Be sure to check out the 12 Days Of Pedro masterlist for all of the other fics!

Summary: You've had a crush on your coworker, Mr. Ben, for a long time. Tonight, at the Saint Lawrence staff Christmas party you decide to finally do something about it.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, F!reader, Ben is his first name, Morales is his last name (because he's Frankie's cousin, duh), drinking, dub con (because both Reader and Ben have consumed alcohol), fingering, oral sex (M and F receiving), vaginal sex, semi public sex, pull out method, praising, pet names, no use of y/n

It’s time for the annual Saint Lawrence High School staff Christmas party. Every year the Lawrence Committee (the group in charge of putting on events for the staff throughout the year) rents out a banquet hall the Friday night before Christmas break starts for all of the teachers and staff. You’d had a crush on one of your colleagues, Mr. Morales (really Mr. Ben because he’s one of those “cool” teachers who lets his kids call him by his first name). He’s been in a relationship with Miss Jenny, another teacher at Saint Lawrence, ever since you started but to your delight, they broke up in October. And you’ve just been waiting for the perfect moment to try and get closer to him. It’s hard when you and Ben have opposite free periods from each other and only see each other in passing throughout the day. But tonight you’re both going to be in the same room for once and there will be alcohol involved. You can’t wait.

School gets out at two and the party starts at six. So you take the opportunity to go home and change into something more… festive; an emerald green colored dress, black heels, and a pair of mistletoe earrings. You finish the look with classic red lipstick before heading to the party around six, that way you won’t be the first one there but also not too late.

When you pull into the parking lot you see Ben’s car, a dark blue Prius, and your tummy flutters in excitement. You take a deep breath and park, smoothing your dress down as you get out of the car. The dress you’re wearing reveals just enough cleavage and now you’re feeling a little self-conscious. You don’t show it, though. You hold your head high, confidently walking as you enter the party. Heads turn your way, and rightfully so, because you’re a fucking knockout. And if Ben doesn’t notice you tonight then there’s something wrong with him, not you.

The Lawrence Committee went all out with this party. The place doesn’t even look like a regular banquet hall anymore, it looks like a winter wonderland. It makes you wonder where they got the budget for this stuff… But that’s a problem for another time.

You head to the bar, ordering a vodka cranberry and sipping it as your eyes scan the room. And there he is, tucked away in a corner by himself, nursing a whiskey neat. God, he looks so handsome, wearing a white dress shirt and a green tie with Christmas lights that also lights up. He’s alone for now but he won’t be for long. You know for a fact that there’s a handful of teachers in the history department and the foreign language department that have the hots for him. If you want him, you have to act fast. You also notice that Miss Jenny isn’t here which makes what you’re about to do a lot easier for you.

You order another vodka cranberry from the bar, finishing this one much quicker than the last. You need some liquid confidence if you’re going to make your move tonight. You set your glass down on the bar and head toward his direction, mentally hyping yourself up for the moves you’re about to pull.

You swear his eyes light up when he sees you, so you turn on the charm, cocking your head to the side with a flirty, “Heyyy!”

“Having fun?” he smiles.

“So far so good. You?”

“I’m not one for big parties like this.”

“I get that. Why did you come then?”

Yikes, that question was probably too personal. But Ben doesn’t mind, instead, his smile shifts into a smirk.

“Wanted to see a special someone.”

Oh fuck.

You glance to your left and see Miss Becker and Miss Marin, both history teachers, shooting daggers at you. The unwanted attention is making you anxious but also… fuck them. You deserve this.

Before you can answer he glances up towards the ceiling, your eyes follow his gaze, and right above you so perfectly hung is a bundle of mistletoe. This can’t get any better for you.

“Who might that special someone be?” you ask, both of you still looking at the mistletoe.

He doesn’t answer, instead, one of his hands caresses the side of your face. Your eyes meet and before you know it, your lips collide. His kiss is warm and inviting, everything you dreamed it would be. You hear a disgruntled “ugh” from your right and you can only assume it’s Miss Becker or Miss Marin. You smirk into the kiss, knowing that you have something they can’t attain.

He pulls away and your red lipstick is on his lips. He reads the amused expression on your face and his eyes glance down to your mouth. You can only assume your lipstick is smudged. Before you can even address it he’s kissing you again, this time setting his drink down at the table beside you and holding your face with both of his hands. The kiss grows needier, more passionate. All you can think about is how badly you want him and how badly you wish you were somewhere private right now.

“Ben?” you whisper against his lips.

“Hmm?” he hums, sneaking another kiss again.

“Can we go somewhere-”

“Private?” he asks, finishing your sentence and pulling away to look at you.

“Yeah… I just feel like there’s a lot of eyes on us.”

“Sweetheart, they can stare all they want but of course we can somewhere else if that’ll make you more comfortable,” he smiles, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

He grabs your hand and leads you across the room. He’s so bold, proudly showcasing you as you weave around tables and walk through the dance floor. He stops in front of a single-stall bathroom, not even bothering to peer over his shoulder at who’s looking before opening the door and letting you inside.

He locks the door and wastes no time pushing you up against the tiled wall and gluing his lips to your neck. He nips and sucks at the soft skin while one of his hands slides up your dress, hooking his fingers around your panties and sliding them off. You step out of them and he bends down to pick them up, marveling at the large patch of wetness on the lacy fabric.

“So ready for me,” he teases.

You whine in response, spreading your legs for him. He stands up and brings two fingers to his mouth, moistening them before returning his lips to your neck and one hand under your dress. He teases your entrance with his fingers, sliding your wetness around and teasing your clit.

“Ben, please,” you whine.

“Be a good girl and be patient,” he softly commands, returning to kiss and nip at your neck after.

You whimper in response just as he slides one finger in, going painfully slow as he works your walls. It’s not enough, you need more and he knows that. But instead, he’s taking his time with you, moving his finger painstakingly slow inside you.

Just when you can’t take any more teasing, he pushes another finger in, eliciting a deep moan from you.

“You’ve been so patient, sweet girl,” he says, his two fingers working your walls. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles around it as he fingers you. You writhe against the wall, your knees barely able to hold you upright.

“I bet you wanna cum so bad,” he teases.

“Please?” you whine.

“You’ve earned it. Soak my fingers,” he softly commands.

And you do, your walls fluttering around his fingers and your release soaking his hand down to his wrist. He pulls his hand away once you’re done bringing it in front of your face.

“Look at the mess you made,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” you shoot back.

Before he can reply with another witty remark your hands are on his belt.

“What are you doing?” he asks, sounding flustered.

“You don’t think I thought about this for so long?”

“R-Really?”

“Mhm,” you say, sinking to your knees.

You unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, pulling his cock free from his boxers. You wrap your hand around the base and take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He shudders in reaction to your touch, his hands caressing each side of your face as you suck him off. Your head bobs up and down as you keep your tongue flat on the underside of his cock. Your hand strokes the section you can’t fit in your mouth.

But just as he’s about to cum he pulls himself out of your mouth and says, “Not so fast,” with a smirk.

You rise from the floor and he grabs your waist, spinning you around so you’re facing the sink. And now you’re looking at him in the mirror, reading the devious smirk on his face. He undoes his tie, taking it off and bending you over the sink. He takes the tie and ties it around your wrists, hiking your dress up.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” he says, smirking at you in the reflection.

“Even longer,” you smile back just as he enters you.

He watches your face as it melts from a smile into an expression of pleasure, your mouth forming into a soft “O”. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you, hitting a deeper angle with each thrust. The small bathroom is soon with the obscene noise of skin colliding with skin. Thank God for the music or else the whole party would be able to hear you.

“So wet for me,” he purrs, his eyes glued to your face in the mirror.

“Mmm, all because of you,” you respond.

He’s bashful even when he’s fucking you stupid so you praise him further.

“And you’re so big.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. It feels so fucking good,” you say just as he slams into you on the last word, making your voice jump an octave, “Fuck, Ben. I’m gonna cum.”

“Let me feel it, sweet girl,” he says, his pace never faltering.

With one final slam of his hips, you’re coming around him, your cunt pulsing around his cock. He holds on as long as he can, wanting to feel the entirety of your orgasm before pulling out and coming on your ass. He hurriedly grabs a few paper towels from the dispenser and cleans up his mess.

“Thanks,” you giggle.

“Anytime,” he smirks.

He unties his tie around your wrist, replaces it around his neck, and zips up his pants. You stand upright and smooth down your dress. He pulls you against him, wrapping his arms around you.

“Do you think anyone noticed us gone?”

“Probably,” he chuckles.

“Fuck, should we leave separately?”

“Why?”

“What if they stare?”

“Let ‘em,” he says, kissing your cheek, your red lipstick still all over his mouth.

He opens the door and grabs your hand. So you decide so what? Let ‘em stare.

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

#mr ben fanfiction #mr ben x reader #mr ben snl #mr ben (snl) x reader #mr ben x f!reader #mr ben (snl) x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories

180 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 9 months

Text

A list of all my favourite MISC. PEDRO CHARACTERS Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 1/2

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

MR BEN - SNL:

You Have Me In A Chokehold - @wannab-urs

It's Cuffin' Season - @mellowsaturns

Secret Admirer - @demigoddessqueens

Fancam Worthy - @boliv-jenta GN!Reader

Well Read - @wyn-n-tonic

Rainy Days - @chaoticgeminate

The Speed Of Silence - @popcornforone

What The Hell Are Fancams? & Love At The Top - @musings-of-a-rose

Sending Naked Pics Request - @ozarkthedog

After Swim Practice & Better Than Vanilla - @exquisiteserotonin

Visiting Series - @ladamedusoif OFC!Reader

WING PIT - SNL

First & Ten & Summer Kiss Prompt - @something-tofightfor

Birthday Kiss - Wing Pit - @something-tofightfor

JAY CASTILLO - RED WIDOW:

Nightingale Series - @something-tofightfor

Dreamland - @artemiseamoon

NICO - HOUSE COMES WITH A BIRD:

Kitten Series - @boliv-jenta

A Clumsy Romance - @the-blind-assassin-12

Winktober Nipple Play - @oonajaeadira

Birds Of A Feather Series - @whiskeynwriting

Mystery Of Love - @queridopascal

Let Me Carry You Away Series - @221bshrlocked

ZACH WELLISON - BROTHERS & SISTERS:

Loved & Loaded - @coastielaceispunk

Coming Home - @absurdthirst

Since Forever - @musings-of-a-rose

Lose Control - @supernaturalgirl20

How Did You Know? - @blueeyesatnight

You Found Me Series, All The Things I deserve & Everything - @yespolkadotkitty

You're Classic Series - @chaoticgeminate OFC!F!Reader

Movie Night - @munsonownsmyass

Finding Eden Series - @bluestar22x

DIO MORRISSEY - NYPD BLUE:

My World - @sneetsnootyoit

Insomniac - @scuddisher

I Am A Fucking God - @cowboy-turtle

The Goth & The Jock - @traningdummy M!Reader

A Pill - @odetodilfs Sub!M!Reader

Greedy - @mandoalorian

SANTOS - DRIVE AWAY DOLLS:

Good Boy - @boliv-jenta

OMAR ASSARIAN - LIGHTS OUT:

Tough Love - @supernaturalgirl20

Snuggles - @pintsizemama

When The Lights Go Out Series - @artemiseamoon

THE THIEF - CASILLERO DEL DIABLO WINES:

Said The Spider To The Fly - @blueeyesatnight M x M

My Kiss, Only For You - @ladamedusoif

By Fate Of The Night - @rise-my-angel

The Thief & The Devil In The Details - @boliv-jenta

The Thief - @write-and-buried

An Expected Surprise - @mandosmistress

The Painting - @forever-rogue

Reunions - @ladamedusoif

92 notes · View notes

mellowsaturns · 1 year

Text

now we got a reason

MR. BEN (PEDRO PASCAL SNL CHARACTER) X TEACHER!READER

summary: turns out, hiding your feelings is harder than you thought

warnings: fluff, hidden relationship, workplace romance, kissing, teasing, suggestive content but nothing too explicit, all the feels, pet names, it’s kinda cheesy i’m sorry, fem!reader

wc: 1.1k

part one but can be read as a stand-alone

a/n: it’s mr. ben’s world and we’re just living in it

— — —

It’s during those extra minutes in class where one of your students decides to take one for the team and ask you.

“How come Mr. Ben doesn’t visit you anymore?” one student calls out instead of doing their class work.

Here we go again.

Sighing, you place your pen down. “Is there a reason he should be visiting me?”

“Well… He always does,” another student adds.

“And he hasn’t for a while now,” pipes in another.

God. You loved your homeroom students, you really did, but if only they would focus on their education as much as they do with your love life.

“Whether he visits me or not is none of your business,” you answer with a bit of an edge.

That gets your entire class perked up, and suddenly, everyone’s whispering and murmuring among themselves. And you know exactly what they are talking about with words like ‘Break Up?’ ‘Fight’ and ‘Misunderstanding’ being thrown around.

You just simply look down and ignore them and your feelings.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” a brave soul asks.

“Frankie,” you say sternly. “Focus on your work.”

It’s lunchtime when you’re making your way down the empty hall for a department meeting. You never make it to your destination because someone pulls you into an empty classroom.

You let out a small yelp when your back hits the door, locking you inside. The panic never comes because you know just who it is.

Looking up, you're met with a pair of beautiful brown doe eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says with a charming smile.

Ever since he made that Daddy and Mommy joke and you teasing him that he needed to put a ring on your finger first—he had asked you out on a date.

Then another. And another.

It didn’t take long for him to officially ask you to be his girlfriend—a home cooked meal at his house with a lit candle and everything.

After that, he couldn’t get enough of you.

He’s caging you with one arm propped up onto the door as a way to impress you and you had to stifle your laughter at his enduring shamelessness.

“Hey,” you whisper back.

He grabs one of your hands and rubs gentle circles on the delicate skin. “I missed you,” he murmurs.

“You missed me?”

He hums. “Of course I did.”

You let out a small chuckle. “You saw me this morning.”

“I know,” he says with a small pout, “but I usually see you more than that.”

Ever since the two of you made it official, you had suggested that he stop coming by your classroom so often to reduce the chances of getting caught. And he had consciously agreed because he had no control when it came to you—he would’ve accidentally kissed you in front of the whole class, he had said himself.

It’s not like there were strict forbidden rules about teachers getting together, but just to play it safe, the two of you agreed to keep it on the low for the meantime.

But he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself, it seems. Because while he can’t go to see you in your classroom, he’s always pulling you into empty rooms for a quick stolen kiss.

“It’s hard for me too,” you confess, intertwining your fingers with his. “They ask me about you all the time and I have to act as if we had a fight or something.”

It was the hardest thing in the world because you’re so lovestruck that the mere mention of his name results in an automatic smile.

But you had to keep the act up—just until the two of you figure out how to tell your colleagues and most importantly, your boss.

He brings you into a hug. “I know, baby. I know.”

“You know this is highly inappropriate, right?” you say into his chest.

He smirks. “You never complained before.”

You pull away. “Yeah but this time you led me into a classroom with the lights off,” you chime. “Are you suggesting something?”

He lowers his head, just enough that his lips brush past your ear. “You know better than to tease me, honey,” he says, voice so thick and guttural that you had to shut your eyes to stabilize yourself.

He may look reserved and modest, but he was anything but that, especially when the two of you were alone.

Pulling back, he smirks at your reaction. Then, the next thing you know, his plush lips were on yours.

No matter how many times the two of you do this, the first touch always ignites a spark.

And for Ben, he would never get over this feeling, one that he longed for ever since you transferred to this school.

And because he always loses himself with you, his lips are now on your neck—gentle, yet eager from all those years of pining.

You helplessly let yourself melt into his touches for a minute before gently pushing him away. “Not here,” you whisper.

He nods, always thinking about you and putting you first.

(It didn’t matter anyways, he’s staying over at your place this weekend, there will be plenty of time. It doesn’t need to be said.)

You hum and pull onto his tie. “I see you’re wearing the one I bought you.”

The blue one with little planets on it because it was so him.

He looks down and a grin spreads across his face. “Of course I’m wearing it. It’s all I’ll ever wear from now on.”

He gives you a peck on the tip of your nose. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before the other teachers think you got kidnapped or something,” he says referring to your meeting. One where you’re probably very late for.

Exiting the classroom, he quietly shuts the door while you giggle at him, both of you acting like guilty school children.

When you turn around, the two of you are stunned—like deers caught in headlights.

Because one of your students is in the hallway. And they’re staring at the two of you.

You look back at Ben and your eyes widen even further because when did his hair get that disheveled?

“Uh…” you start, voice in a panic, “This isn't what it looks like. Really.”

But the poor soul just looks at you. Then, something unexpected happens. “Wait. So you two aren’t in your divorced eras?” they say happily.

You and Ben look at each other with confusion. Divorced—What?

“What does that even mea—”

But Ben doesn't even get a chance to finish his question because they’re already off in a rush, pulling out their phone and typing something with a sneaky grin on their face.

The two of you take a deep breath. “Oh god,” you mutter.

This was definitely going to get addressed at the Assembly next week.

#mr ben x reader #teacher ben x reader #pedro pascal snl x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal on snl #mr ben #mr ben snl #professor ben x reader

1K notes · View notes

musings-of-a-rose · 1 year

Text

Love at the Top

Pairing: Teacher Ben x f! Teacher reader

Word Count: 3200+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Notes: This was an ask that was pm to me from @fishingforpike and I couldn't pass! I hope it's what you want (and if you want a smutty part 2 I may be down for writing that)

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Teacher Ben Masterlist

Love at the Top Part 2

Graduating wasn't easy. Interviewing for my first big job was harder. But the hardest so far is this. Teaching high school English fresh out of college - and I know no one at this school.

I moved to a new city right after graduation after accepting the English teaching position so not only was it my first real degree job, but it was in a new city with a whole new culture. And I was teaching high school. Which shouldn't be an issue because I'm 24 which means I can still relate to the youth of today, right?

I hope so.

I completed all of the new hire orientation at the district building. Today I finally get to see my classroom and start setting up while navigating all of the back to school meetings and having everyone point out "the new teacher". I hope there aren't any ice breaker games.

"Welcome back everyone!" The principal starts the all staff meeting with a typical speel of announcements.

"Before we continue, let's do some ice breakers to get us into that back to school spirit!"

Damn.

He starts to pair us up, trying to match people outside of what they teach.

"And Ben, you'll be with the new English teacher." He gestures between me and a man I've not met yet.

Ben turns to face me and my stomach jumps into my throat. He is gorgeous. All dark eyes and graying dark hair, button up shirt tucked into his dress slacks with a tie that says "Science ROCKS!" on it with pictures of rocks all over it. He has black framed glasses which he's taken off his face to fiddle with nervously as he stands, walking to me.

"H-hi. I'm Ben." He holds his hand out and I shake it, noticing that his palms were slightly sweaty.

I tell him my name. "Nice to meet you."

We get through the ice breaker game and I find myself crushing hard on Ben with his shirt tucked into his pants.

The meeting resumes and everyone goes back to their seats. I find myself stealing glances at Ben across the room and I swear I catch his eyes a few times but there's no way he's looking at me, right?

The meeting ends and I gather up my things, trying to remember how to get to my room from here when I feel someone walk up to me. Turning, I see Ben, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He leans in and speaks quietly to me.

"Need help getting back to your room?"

"How did you know?"

He smiles and now I know I'm in trouble. "Happens for all of us. What's your room number?"

"Uh…" I check my paper. "148-B."

"Oh that's not far from me. I'll take you there.. if…if you'd like?"

"I'd love that, thank you."

Ben escorts me to my room and looks around at the bare walls and boxes stacked everywhere.

"You have some work ahead of you."

I sigh. "Oh yeah. I haven't had a moment to unpack anything."

"Do you want some help?"

"Oh. Um.. I don't think so." Really I'd have him stay but this is my first room and I'd like to set that up myself.

He smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Ok. Well if you change your mind, I'm in 140-A. Just at the end of the hall."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

We stand there for several awkward moments before he gives me a little wave and heads out the door. What the fuck was that? I can't have a crush on a coworker already.

I start to unpack, the room slowly coming together. I find myself thinking about Ben and when I can't take it anymore, I decide to set aside some posters that I'll say I need help with.

I head down to his room and take a breath, gently knocking on the door.

"Come in."

I push open the door and have to pause - his room is heavily decorated, earth science posters plaster the walls, stacks of books around the edges, bins and bins of rocks are everywhere. It feels like organized chaos and I love it. Wait, is that a lightsaber in the corner?

"Oh hey. How's the room coming?"

"It's..nowhere near as cool as yours."

Is he blushing? "I - my room's a mess. Especially compared to yours I'm sure."

"I think it's wonderful."

"Th-thanks."

A few moments pass before I work up the courage to ask.

"I- could you help me hang a few things? I just don't want to fall off a chair."

"Y-yeah. Of course!" He walks towards me.

I point to the corner. "Is that a lightsaber?"

Now I know he's blushing. "I uh… yeah." He sounds embarrassed.

"I have Ashoka's. What color is yours?"

His eyes snap to mine, a light igniting behind them. "Green. You have a lightsaber too?"

"2, technically. I'd love to get my own at Disney one day."

He smiles wide. "Oh it's a great experience! That's where I got that one from. So you're a Star Wars fan then?"

I nod. "Absolutely."

"Are you old enough to see them in theaters?"

I laugh. "Well not the original ones, but yeah. I was little and they were re-releases but that's when I fell in love. They were my first movies in theaters."

We chat about Star Wars all the way back to my room and while he puts up the posters I could've easily hung myself. Once he finishes, he turns to me, dropping his voice quieter than normal.

"Ok, want the real low down on the school?"

"Ooo yes!"

He chuckles. "Ok my young Padawan." He launches into a mini Ted talk about the best bathrooms, which stairs cases to avoid, the sticky elevator, which lunch lady will sneak you extra food, although I have a sneaking suspicion that applies to Ben only.

"Thank you so much, Ben! What would I have done without you?"

He waves a hand. "I'm sure you would've been fine."

"Can I buy you lunch tomorrow?"

He starts coughing violently but waves me off when I move to help him. "What?"

"As a thank you. Can I buy you lunch?"

"Oh really you don't have to."

"Of course I don't. But I want to. What are the good spots?"

"You don't want to go to lunch with an old man like me."

I blow a raspberry at him. "Please. You aren't old."

"I'm 47. And you're what, 20?"

"24. And stop acting like you're 120. You're only 47."

"It's a 23 year difference."

"So you've done the math between us?"

What did I just say?

He blushes hard, hands not sure whether they want to settle on his hips or cross his broad chest. "N-no. I mean it's simple math."

I nod, trying to hide my own embarrassment. "It is. But it's not bad. We get along just fine, don't we?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times. "I-yeah but…wouldn't your boyfriend mind?"

Is he fishing?

"It's a thank you lunch so it wouldn't matter even if I had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend."

He says nothing, studying me. "A simple thank you is just fine, Padawan."

"No matter how much I insist, you're going to turn me down aren't you?"

He nods. "Afraid so."

"Suit yourself. I was going to see if we could catch the early bird special."

He puts his hand on his chest in mock shock. "Is that an old person joke?"

"It would be if you were old."

—----

That first week back for teachers flies by, mostly thanks to Ben. He's helped me decorate and setup nearly my entire room, helping me with every vision I had as "It's your first classroom so you decorate it how you want."

Then it's time for students.

Ben comes in early that first day and drops by my room, quietly handing me a cup of coffee he'd brought me from a local coffee shop, telling me I'll be brilliant on my first day after seeing the nerves in my eyes.

"You've learned so much, Padawan. They'll love you. Just don't show them any weakness and you'll be good."

"What?"

He waves, giving me a smirk as he heads back through the door. "You'll be great!"

Somehow I make it to lunch without vomiting. The kids were actually not too bad so far. And I get to see Ben at lunch.

He's saved me a seat, sliding me a peanut butter cup when I sit across from him in the teacher's lounge.

"How did you know I needed this?" I ask him, eagerly peeling back the paper and stuffing the entire cup into my mouth.

He smiles. "I just had a feeling."

—----

We settle into a routine, spending our lunch time chatting about anything and everything, popping into each other's classrooms with some random excuse to just say hi, students or not.

A couple months later, one of my students approaches me, handing me her class work as I take a sip of water.

"Miss, are you dating Mr. Ben?"

I choke on my water, throwing my hands in the air. "I-what?"

She's smiling at me. "You're dating aren't you?"

"Uh… no we aren't. We're just good friends."

"Uh huh."

"Why would you ask that?"

"You're just always with each other. I thought you were together."

I bring this up to Ben when I drop by his room during planning period. He blushes furiously, red creeping up his cheeks as he removes his glasses to wipe at them nervously.

"What, uh what did you tell her?"

"That we weren't dating. Just good friends."

He nods, his eyes looking a little sad. "I can't believe they'd think you'd date an old fart like me."

I laugh. "You're not that old, how many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You're closer to them in age than to me."

He's not wrong.

"That's just numbers. Besides, none of them have those little gray hairs in their hair."

His fingers come up to run at his hair. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Not at all. Trust me, it works."

His eyes meet mine and they shift ever so slightly down to my lips before flicking back up. He opens his mouth to say something bit then the bell rings, extinguishing any sort of spark we felt in that moment.

—-----

The State Fair comes to town and it's all the students can talk about. Apparently it's a big thing here and so, I decide not to give them homework and even push back their planned test, which earns me a class full of whoops and hollers every period.

At lunch, I mention this to Ben who chuckles and says I may have surpassed him as favorite teacher now.

"Oh please, all the kids love you."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I have no clue why."

"Really? You're a fantastic teacher and really take the time to get on their level so they understand the subject."

He stares at me. "You- you think?"

"I love watching you teach. It's obvious you care and the kids can pick up on that."

He blushes, red dusting his cheeks as he turns to his sandwich, mumbling a "thanks".

"So this state fair is a big thing?"

He nods, swallowing the bite of sandwich. "Huge. It's not small either, has concerts and livestock shows, typical fair food and rides, and a bunch of other stuff."

"Sounds fun. I've never been to a fair."

He chokes and I jump, moving around the table to thump him on the back.

"Y-you've never b-been to a fair before?"

I shake my head. "Nope. Parents didn't want to pay for it."

"Well you have to go then!"

"By myself?"

"Fairs aren't fun alone. I'll take you."

Silence stretches between us as his eyes grow wide when he realizes what he said.

"I mean as friends, of course."

I smile, letting it not reach my eyes. "Of course."

"I uh… I'll pick you up Saturday morning?"

"Sounds perfect."

—----

I swear I've tried on everything I own and I can't settle on something to wear. It's not like it's a date, but it feels like something… more. I don't know how to explain it but I know I want to wear non school work clothes.

I finally settle on a sundress, pale green with embroidered flowers and vines running across it and pair it with some short boots, not wanting to walk across dirt in sandals.

The knock at my door comes promptly at 11am, exactly when he said he'd pick me up. I grab my bag and open the door, smiling wide at his choice of black slacks and a light blue top that somehow brings out his eyes. I've never seen this man in a color that he can't pull off.

"HI Ben! Wait…does your bow tie have little Earths on it?"

He smiles nervously, fingers twisting his bow tie. "Yeah it does! Do you like it?"

"I do!"

His smile is brighter, but then his eyes rake down my body and something shifts in him, his eyes becoming darker.

"Y-you look…"

"Oh. Is this not fair appropriate? I can change-"

"No! I mean, no. It's perfect. You're perfect."

"What?"

"I uh said come on let's go."

—----

He wasn't kidding - this fair is huge.

He insists on paying, buying parking and my entrance ticket, helping me decide which fair foods to try as I'd never had any of them. We hit up the petting zoo, a livestock show that one of our mutual students was competing in, and looked at all of the vendors, some selling some really unique things.

Then it was time for rides.

We went on several different ones before I needed a break, noticing the relief on Ben's face when I insisted we rest. The sun was starting to set, so Ben said we should rest on the ferris wheel.

"You have to catch the sunset from the ferris wheel," he insists.

I don't have the heart to tell him I'm not a huge fan of heights.

We get in the cart and pull the bar down and I think I'm doing OK…until we move. The second we start to ascend, my hand flies out and I grip Ben's thigh, trying to basically insert myself into his lap.

"Are you ok?" He asks as we continue to climb, cart stopping every few feet to let someone else in.

"I… I'm g-good."

"You're gripping my thigh."

I try to let go but I can't. "Ok… I'm terrified of heights."

We make it to the top and the wheel starts to move slowly around and I think I'm going to lose it.

Ben hesitantly puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. He squeezes me slightly, adding just enough pressure to calm me. His other hand lays on top of mine, which is still gripping his thigh. He manages to slide his fingers around mine, the warmth from his hand grounding me in the moment. He rubs his thumb along the back of my hand, trying to comfort me. We stay like that through 2 rotations of the wheel before it stops, us at the top.

"Why is it s-stopped?"

"It's to take in the view. But you don't have to."

I nod. "I think I'm doing b-better."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

He chuckles sarcastically. "Ha-ha. But seriously, why did you agree to the ferris wheel if you're not a fan of heights?"

The cart rocks and I squeeze him harder, unable to think clearly. "To be with you."

He stiffens. "To..what?"

The cart sways again and my grip tightens.

"I want to see the sunset."

He rubs his hand up and down my arm. "You don't have to."

"No. I want to."

I take a deep breath and open my eyes, immediately starting to breathe faster as my eyes take in the height.

"Hey, padawan, look at me."

My terror filled eyes find his, soft and warm and comforting, and I find myself relaxing, getting lost in those brown eyes I love so much. His hand comes up to tuck some hair behind my ear and his fingers brush my cheek.

I sigh, the tension leaving my body the longer we stay like that. His eyes flick down to my lips and linger for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again.

I take my hand from his and place it on his chest, gently, hesitantly, gripping his shirt and tugging slightly on it to pull him toward me. He acquiesces, slowly lowering his head to mine, but then he pauses, lips an inch from mine.

"I'm 47."

"I don't care."

I tug him ever so slightly again and a moment later, he pushes his lips to mine, mustache tickling me as he kisses me. It's gentle, restrained, as if he can't believe he's kissing me. He pulls back, dark eyes finding mine, wide and asking if that was ok.

I slide my hand up to his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his patchy stubble before sliding it behind his head, pulling him down to me, deepening the kiss the second our lips meet. I feel his hand come up to cradle the back of my head and he sighs into me, pulling me as close as he can, a slight moan in the back of his throat.

He pulls back, but stays close, eyes meeting mine.

"Are…are you sure? I'm such an old man."

"I really like you, Ben. Like a lot. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

My finger traces a pattern on his cheek and he closes his eyes briefly before finding mine again.

"You could never make me uncomfortable. You're the only person I've ever felt like I could be myself with."

Oh God, his eyes are like a puppies' and I don't know what to do.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Would it be bad of me to make out with you before the first date?"

I mock thinking, finger poking at my chin. "I'll allow it."

"Oh thank God."

His lips pressed to mine and the kiss is more frantic, deeper, more emotion behind it than before. Like he's relaxing and allowing himself this chance at happiness.

I clutch him to me, my leg sliding over his as I try to slide into his lap, forgetting about the lap bar. And the fact we're in public. Ben chuckles, placing his hand hesitantly on my bare thigh.

"Not here, sweet girl. Too many eyes. And I want you all for myself."

-------

Love at the Top Part 2

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena-library @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics

#teacher ben #mr ben #snl #saturday night live #pedro pascal snl pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction

283 notes · View notes

exquisiteserotonin · 11 months

Text

I haven't written fic in such a long time, but Pedro is such a muse. Also I initially thought my writings were going to be on my original tumblr, but I decided to move them here for organization. Enjoy! <3

Better Than Vanilla

Mr. Ben x F! Reader

Word Count: 5.9K

Pairing: Mr. Ben (SNL) x F!Reader (HS English Teacher)

Warnings: 18+,MDNI, Explicit content, SMUT, language, oral sex (male and female receiving), light bondage, PIV sex, praise, Mr. Ben is the consent king.

“So, when you get a steal, you have to conference with your team,” you emphasize, hoping that your exasperation wasn’t obvious.

One of the 6 students in your classroom began crunching on a snack he reached for in his backpack.

“Ugh!” exclaimed one of the female students, snapping a dirty look at him. “He’s not being serious!”

The student raised his hands and shrugged, “What? I’m hungry? Coach, pleeeease?”

The urge to roll your eyes grew as you heard the student whine. Ben, your colleague and academic team co-advisor, snatched up the packet of Voortman vanilla wafers.

“Thanks for the snack, kid!” he quipped as placed the wafers on your desk with a wink before turning back to your group of students. “I think we’re gonna call it a day, don’t you think?”

A sigh of relief floated from your students as they hoisted on their backpacks to leave. You also felt a weight lift off your chest and shoulders as the left. A small smile was all you could muster as the last of them shuffled out of your room. Two students lingered behind giggling as they asked Mr. Ben for extra advice. You sauntered over to your desk and sunk into your chair, organizing the mountain of papers screaming to be graded. Meanwhile the two lingerers continued their giggles as they left your classroom. Their goodbye to you was friendly and quick, the opposite of the one they offered to your counterpart.

“Bye, Mr. Beeeeeeeen.”

It escaped their lips like a squeal. Adding a groan to your eye roll seemed apropos, but you managed to keep your composure. Supervising and sponsoring an extracurricular club full of hormonal teenagers was a small price to pay, especially if it meant more money in your paycheck. You at least had the company of a colleague despite him being the object of infatuation for nearly half the student body of St Lawrence High School. Ben sat at the corner of your desk, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater and button-up shirt.

“Thanks for taking those, by the way,” you commented as he grabbed the confiscated vanilla wafers and popped one in his mouth, savoring it.

“God, I love these!” he declared, devouring another one after the first.

“Ugh, why,” you questioned, “they’re so boring.”

“You’re probably eating them wrong,” he teased. “If you let the wafer sit in your mouth a little bit, you can feel the vanilla cream just kind of melt all over.”

You cleared your throat at his description. It sounded sinful and gave you enough pause to briefly reconsider the wafers as an inferior snack. Lifting your gaze to him, you reaffirmed your resolve, “nope, too vanilla.”

He was interested in you, that much you could sense. A combination of professionalism and apprehension prohibited you from any kind of active pursuit.

A little flirting is harmless, your mind spoke. Right?

He shrugged before finishing the last of the wafers.

“How do you think they’re doing?” He asked, pointing his chin towards the door where your students had exited.

“They’re so smart,” you replied and tapped his forearm with pencil , “but I think they’re easily distracted.”

“By me?” He scoffed, throwing his hands up.

“Yeah, I know, I don’t get it,” you teased, “Must be the way you wear your tie.”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” he said dryly, playfully tossing a white board eraser at you as you opened your laptop. “Are you seriously doing more work right now? It’s Friday.”

“Hey, I’m still considered the new girl in town,” you replied as you set a stack of papers next to you to grade, “I still have to earn my keep.”

Footsteps echoed down the hall, approaching your classroom. In the doorway stood Jenny, a close friend to you and best friend to Ben.

Her arms crossed in front of her, she tutted before speaking, “you’re not seriously working this late on a Friday?!”

“That’s exactly what I told her!”

“You’re coming out with us, right?” Jenny asked. “With me, Ben, and Kate?”

“I’m trying to be good and finish these grades up; I’ve been procrastinating,” was the explanation you offered.

“It’s Friday, we’ve been here all week; do it tomorrow,” Ben suggested, giving Jenny a hug before bouncing out of your classroom. “I’m gonna head home for a minute and I’ll meet you guys there.”

“You got it,” Jenny agreed.

“Make sure this one doesn’t stay here too late,” he commented, directing his eyes to you.

Jenny nodded and you furiously began entering grades in your laptop as he left. Grabbing a student chair, she parked herself in front of your desk. The quick clicks and clacks of your typing echoed over the peaceful silence of your room. Soon she was leaning over your desk with a grin and a raised brow. She knew you well enough to realize that it wouldn’t take too much convincing to close your laptop and join her for some post-work revelries. Instead of continuing to try to convince yourself to be productive, you gave into the invitation, but not before gauging the situation a little further.

“Wait a second, this isn’t a work thing, is it?”

“Oh god, no!” Jenny sneered. “You know they’re not exactly our people.”

Your agreement with Jenny was an understatement. It wasn’t that you disliked working at St. Lawrence. The prestige that came with being a student there was also bound to the excellence of the faculty and staff. The administrators would beam at any good news that followed the people that worked at the school. This also meant being hired at the school was no easy task, especially when parents paid for a certain level of prestige. A sense of entitlement would sometimes extend to their colleagues, sometimes making team building insufferable.

“Kate’s going?” you asked Jenny, speaking of her girlfriend who did not work at the school.

She nodded, helping you pack your things and walking you out of the building and towards her silver Honda Civic.

“Do you need a ride?” Jenny teased, “you know, in case things get a little bit wild.”

“Sure, we can carpool,” you agreed. “And please, things aren’t going to get that wild.”

You took off your too-formal blazer that you had worn for most of the school day and straightened your pencil skirt before you sat in the passenger seat. You looked over with suspicion at Jenny and noticed her making an extra effort to maintain a reserved silence. As she started to drive, she glanced at you, tightening her lips.

“Are you going to give Ben a chance this time?”

You rolled your head and eyes towards her and an exasperated, but involuntary laugh escaped you.

“So, there it is.” You sighed, now fully aware of her intentions. “Why do you always try to set me up with him?”

“Because you are attractive, he is attractive, you’re both intelligent and single,” Jenny stated matter-of-factly. “And I love you both dearly and you two would make the cutest couple.”

You smiled in appreciation of your friend’s efforts. With it only being your second year of teaching at St. Lawrence, navigating friendships was still difficult as many of the teachers had been working there for a decade or more. You latched onto Jenny quickly, first as a department colleague and next as a kindred spirit in personality and interests. She urged you to sponsor the academic team this school year, knowing that her best friend in the math department, Ben, would be co-sponsor. Trusting her judgment, you knew that he was at the very least safe and respectful.

“What are you thinking?” Jenny's eyes twinkled. “You know he thinks you’re pretty hot.”

“Jenny, shut up!”

You shifted in your seat, trying to suppress your increasing intrigue. Aside from his math expertise and help in planning the academic team, “Mr. Ben’s” good-natured reputation among staff preceded him. He had always been friendly and managed to bring entertainment to even the most mundane faculty meeting. And of course, you also were most recently inundated with the way students giggled, blushed, and ogled him as he walked through the halls. As much as you hated to admit it, especially to yourself, he was pretty cute. The TikTok incident at the school assembly was to blame, you convinced yourself.

“I mean,” you paused, an image of him eating vanilla wafers at your desk flashed in your brain, “I guess he‘s cute, he’s just—he just seems so…vanilla.”

“VANILLA?!” Jenny’s voice squeaked incredulously, and it caught you by surprise. “Are you serious?”

“He wears pullover cashmere sweaters!” You cried with laughter.

“We can’t all be perfect!” she laughed with you.

Before you realized it, you had arrived at a restaurant far enough from campus, decreasing the likelihood that you’d run into any teachers or parents from your school. Jenny studied you as you got out of the car. She undid the top two buttons of your dusty pink blouse, revealing a slinky, tan, lace bodysuit you had beneath.

“Ooh, you hussy,” she teased, adding with a wink, “by the way, Ben is probably about as vanilla as you.”

The last few words silenced you. You felt your eyes get wide and felt heat growing on the apples of your cheeks.

Trying to recompose yourself, you followed Jenny inside. Ahead of you, Jenny spotted her girlfriend, Kate, who gave her a bright smile and a sweet peck to her lips.

They then lead you to a u-shaped booth with plush, rich, teal fabric peaking at the edge. And then him. Ben. You stole a glance at Jenny before she pushed you in front of her and into the booth.

“Hey Mr. Ben,” you greeted.

“Just Ben,” he replied with a boyish grin, “we’re not at work, we don’t need to use the formalities.”

You nodded and slid closer to him, as Jenny followed you into the booth. The proximity provided a different window for you to look at him. His brown wavy hair was perfectly mussed; his shoulders were loose, relaxed, and he had even discarded the confines of his tie and cashmere sweater. Amplifying his breeziness was how he had not one, not two, but three buttons undone on his pale, terracotta colored shirt. They whispered to you to peek at his neck and chest which always remained hidden during the school day. It was as though you were bearing witness to something you weren’t supposed to see. The thought warmed your cheeks.

Maybe Jenny was right. Maybe he wasn’t as vanilla as you presumed.

“You didn’t take my advice from earlier,” he stated plainly, “you stayed at work late!”

“Hey, it wasn’t that late,” you retorted, teasingly pushing into him with your shoulder and hip.

“Jenny texted me that you almost didn’t come out with us,” he murmured, a trace of disappointment soaked in his words as he took another sip of his beer. “I’m really glad you didn’t.”

He pressed into your side so your shoulders touched.

“Hmm,” you mused, wondering what more you could pull from him, “really glad, huh?”

“Well,” his lips appeared poutier in thought, “I had to see if you were more than just an amazing…brain with a good work ethic.”

His tone had you thinking sinfully again, just as when he described the vanilla wafers.

“I guess you’re about to find out,” you replied, the words coming out with ease and your tone like honey trapping a fly with sticky sweetness.

Ben looked at you with surprise, giving you a smirk and a wink. That wink was dangerous.

“What are you drinking?”

“I should ask you that,” you stated, grazing his thumb that rested on his beer mug, “is that a bock, pils, a lager?”

Ben looked at you with a raised brow, impressed. He tipped his beer towards you in acknowledgement and beckoned for a waiter to come to their booth. The response was quick, a young woman rushing to your table.

“My friend right here will have a Yuengling, like me,” he touched the small of your back and then leaned over you to get Jenny’s attention.

A tingle climbed up your spine, like electricity climbing up your back, and down again igniting every nerve ending. You fidgeted in your seat and fixed your gaze at him. You tapped your foot, counted inside your head, and observed to see if the electricity would leave. It didn’t.

Fuck, you thought. This is new.

Your attention found its way back to you. It was possible that Ben had asked Jenny what she wanted to drink, since you heard her request for an Old Fashioned. A different kind of clarity took over you as you kept your eyes on him, like seeing something in high definition. His nose was prominent and strong. His facial hair grew in endearing patches. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, revealing a dimple on his right cheek.

“What convinced you to finally come out with us?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” you replied thoughtfully, “the promise that there would be no unwanted co-workers here.”

Ben scratched at the patchy facial hair on his chin and turned to you. His chocolatey brown eyes were big, expectant, and you swore you noticed a not-so-innocent twinkle in them.

“How’s that working out for you?”

Before you could answer, the server returned with your drinks. She handed Jenny her Old Fashioned but before you could reach your hand to take your beer, Ben took hold of it and handed it to you. It was an authentic attempt at being charming. A self-study of the consistent butterflies fluttering in your abdomen floating up to your chest, neck and shoulders declared to you that his attempt was working.

“I guess the kids were right, Ben,” you admitted, “you are in your assembly era.”

He guffawed, his voice rich and throaty. He shook his head and ran his right hand through his hair.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

With an up and down nod of your head you confirmed his answer and turned towards Jenny, “and neither are you, mommy.”

Jenny nearly choked on her old fashioned as you reminded her of her role in the fancam debacle.

“First of all, yes, I am mommy,” she affirmed and looked intently at Ben before shifting her eyes to you to wink, “and second of all, those kids don’t need to be messing in our romantic business anyway.”

Suddenly, Ben became bashful. You swore his cheeks turned the same shade of reddish pink as his shirt. Vanilla or not, you decided that Jenny’s testament of him as a good human being was worth further exploration.

For the rest of the evening, you and Ben traded life stories over intermittent drinks. Things you discovered about each other included siblings, your older brother to his older sister and younger brother. You found he was passionate not just about teaching, but math as well and was too much of a kid to work with adults 24/7. His favorite part of teaching, like yours, was to advocate for students who never had anyone to believe in them. And a shared love of late 90s, early 2000s alternative rock led you two to engage in heavy critique of the cover band playing for the evening.

“What do you think of the band?” he asked at one point during their set.

“If they play Creed, it’s over, I’m peace-ing out,” you replied in a deadpan voice.

He keeled over in laughter, leaning over towards your shoulder.

Fuck, you thought to yourself. He smells so good.

You found yourself staring at his neck and the hint of chest beneath his unbuttoned shirt. It made you feel shallow. You glanced at your watch as a distraction, noting it was nearly midnight. Jenny had been ushered out at Kate’s behest, indicating that the whiskey was making her extra drunk and extra sleepy. You were now without a ride.

“My driver left me,” you sighed to Ben.

“Oh shit,” Ben remarked, “I would offer to take you home, but I might have to Uber it---I’m not sure I can drive.”

An inspired proposition entered your mind. A conflict waged in your mind, contemplating all the ways this evening could end and the one way you wanted it to, “Um…well, we could share an Uber.”

“Well, sure,” he replied earnestly, “if you don’t mind.”

He followed you as you beckoned him outside with a single look. As you stood before each other, you noted the broadness of his shoulders as he reached his hands over his head to stretch, rolling his shoulders up and then down the length of his back. You caught a glimpse of the elastic of his boxer briefs and his belly. The physicality of his movements was enticing and kept the tingling flame you felt earlier in your stomach alight, willing it to travel lower between your legs.

I’m fucked. You thought to yourself.

Ben opened the car door for you. You slid in and he followed, his knee brushing against your leg where your pencil skirt had slid up a few inches. Ben slid in, reaching over, grazing the exposed skin of your thigh with his hand. He looked up at you holding your gaze captive for what seemed like minutes.

“Sorry,” his voice came out in a gravelly hush.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you countered, biting your lip involuntarily.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you spoke softly, keeping your eyes on him.

A grin grew on Ben’s face. “Same.”

Emboldened with desire, your hand caressed the mapwork of veins on his forearm, gently tracing the curve of his knuckles, and the lines on his fingers until he opened his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. You watched, transfixed, as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths. He turned to face you, your noses just a few inches apart. You tilted your head and perused the shape of his pouty lips, soft, and inviting. Nuzzling your nose to his, your lips nearly touched his sweet pout.

“I’m going to ask you in,” the confession melted off your tongue.

He took another deep breath, and you swear that once again, for the third time that evening, his cheeks were quickly painted red. The car began to slow as you noticed it approaching your neighborhood, until it stopped in front of your modest, but adorable mid-century home. You slid out of the car, leaving your door open for him to follow. When he did, your exhalation threatened to consume you. A hot-blooded thumping coursing through your body. He closed the car door gently behind him, thanking the driver with a wave before he turned to follow up on the walkway to your door.

Fumbling for your keys, you felt him close in behind you, feeling the heat escaping from your body and his. A tiny gasp escaped as you felt his hand behind you, touching you first at the small of your back and then circling around to land at your hip. He stepped forward and pulled your body close. Instantly, you felt a tenting build in his pants, pressing himself against you while you unlocked the door. Reverberating tingles vibrating over every inch of your skin. His other hand caressed up your triceps, to your shoulders, gently brushing the hair away from your neck leaving goose bumps behind in their wake. Replacing his hand, his nose caressed your neck, breathing you until you felt his lips taste you with gentle kisses.

“Fuck me,” he panted, warms breaths leaving him as your touch pulsated through every cell in his body.

“That’s the plan,” you smirked and growled at him

You rushed into the house, shoving the door closed behind you. Your lips caressed his Adam’s apple, breathing him in as you licked, kissed, and nibbled on his neck and ear. A growl rattled from him to your ears, his heat rising from his body with each touch. You pressed your lips hungry meeting his soft pout. Instinctively your hands weaved through the soft waves of his hair, until you tugged at it. Not too hard, not too soft but just enough for him to open his mouth with a gasp, allowing you to savor the taste of his bottom lip with your tongue until you met his tongue with fervor.

You pulled from him to take a breath of frenzied desire as you simultaneously attacked each other’s buttons. You marveled at his broad chest and shoulders as you pulled back his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. A wanton dizziness took over you as his large hands pulled you effortlessly towards him. His bulge throbbed against you as you pressed your pelvis into his, gasping and heady with desire. Electric desire moved through you, your skin on fire as a primal lust darkened his eyes while he studied your tits and how your nipples stood at attention, beneath the tan, lacy fabric of your bodysuit.

“Fuck, baby,” the way he growled at you was decidedly not vanilla, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

Lips hot and swollen you grabbed him by the belt loops of his slacks, pulling him towards your bedroom. A giddy gasp escaped you when the jingle of his loose belt buckle reached your ears, sliding it free from its confines tossing and onto your bed.

Ben caressed your shoulders and began to play with the thin straps of your body suit pulling them slowly down your arms, down the fabric covering your breasts, ruching the fabric as he slid it down to your waist. A moan escaped lips as he pulled you with one hand at your waist and the other found a home at your neck with the perfect amount of pressure. A yelp left you as he pushed back against you until you felt the edge of the bed behind your knees, where you fell together.

His mouth found your right nipple licking the numb in tight circles before taking a small bite. The fire on your skin grew hotter from the wet heat of his tongue and it left you panting for more. His deep laugh rumbled from his chest to yours. In his dark eyes he reveled at how he was slowly making you come undone. That pout of his traveled the valley of your chest and gave your other nipple the same attention.

You felt his hardening cock against your thigh and your core began to pound and cry for him. Reaching your hand to his boxer briefs you pull at his cock, eliciting a low moan as your hands slid off the barrier keeping you from his thick hard member. You looked down and your eyes widened at his size. An astonished gulp left your lips as you wrapped your hand around his cock. Your grip barely closed around its girth as you stroked up and down his entire length. A tear of precum escaped the tip. You look up at him deviously and bring your tongue down to taste the saltiness of him. You then wrap your lips around him, taking as much of him in as you possibly can, causing your cheeks to hollow. The taste of him was a perfect combination of sweet and musky and sometimes salty as a hint of more precum coated your tongue.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he moaned through gritted teeth. “Stop, wait.”

You released him with an audible pop, pouting a little bit.

“I just want to make you feel good.”

“Fuck, are you real?” He sighed, brushing his hands through wavy locks.

You nodded and then gasped as he grabbed you and tossed you on the bed like a rag doll. An excited moan leapt from you through heaving breaths as you savored the feeling of his naked body as he crawled over you. A different expression took over his gentle face as he caressed you and kissed your inner biceps as he raised both of your hands above your head. His hot breath branded you as he began to whisper into your ear.

“Can I cuff you with my belt,” he growled.

A whimper escaped you. You were no stranger to being cuffed, but the offer from Ben was…unexpected. The wetness at your core grew when he asked and all you could do was nod.

“Good thing you picked the correct answer,” he sighed, satisfying his hunger with a taste of your lips.

“I like this,” you keened, “this side of you.”

“Good, because you’re going to do exactly as I say,” the demand made you breathless. “You’re going to move when I say you move. You’re going to cum when I let you cum and I’m going to fuck you, when I’m ready.”

“Ben--,” you called out his name like a mantra.

He grabbed his belt from where you had tossed it on the bed. His hands moved with the quick competence of a man who had definitely done this before. The deftness in the way looped the leather as he cuffed your wrists with the perfect amount of pressure left you panting.

“You sure this is OK?” he asked, his fingers gingerly stroking your face and lips.

You opened your mouth taking one digit, swirling your tongue around it, and sucking the tip.

You nod and replied, “Consent is so fucking sexy.”

He smiled and kissed your lips, neck, and breasts. He pulled your pencil skirt from your body, but tortuously left you in your bodysuit, damp with heat of your desire. Your breaths were heavy with anticipation as he traveled to your ankle, up your calf, to your knee, to your inner thigh, until he floated closer to your center. His nose breathed in the scent of your wet core and his broad shoulders pushed your legs apart, licking at the fabric that separated her from his tongue.

“God, you’re so wet for me already,” he moaned, kissing, and licking the fabric again causing shivers to erupt all over your body.

“Ben!” You cried and you writhed beneath him. “Please.”

Your wrists strained against the thick leather of his belt, desperate to touch and grip his body with your hands. our back when you heard him chuckle as he pulled the thin fabric of the bottom of your bodysuit to the side. He flattened his tongue, pressing it through your folds and up to your clit. Like a man starved, he devoured you licking up and down, up, and down and then circling and sucking at your clit. Then he took sanctuary there, making it his place of worship, circling you, sucking you and then licking you again, between maddeningly slow and unbearably fast. A jolt twisted through your body when he slowed down to a stop.

“Oh fuck, Ben, please,” you begged, “I need to cum, please, let me cum.”

“You sure?” his voice full of wanton lust.

You bucked your hips towards him, and you felt his soft pouty lips smirk into your core. His large hands ripped the thin, cheap fabric of your bodysuit, tossing it to the floor. A lascivious chuckle rumbled from his chest as his hands seized your hips before putting his mouth back to work on you. You were devoured, as if you were the last and best meal he would ever have. You trembled slowly at first, your core beginning to quiver and quake. The quaking moved outwards from your core, ready to erupt within your body, as he teased, licked, and sucked, slowing down, or speeding up until you cried out his name begging for mercy.

“Oh god, Ben; you’re so good,” you wailed, the leather becoming tauter around your wrists. Tears formed at the corner of your eyes while your breaths became more and more ragged.

“Yes, sweetheart, cum for me, cum for me then I’ll fuck you.”

An order, not a request.

A tightness began resonating outward from your core, as Ben latched his mouth to your clit and suddenly you felt him push not one, but two fingers deep inside you, finger fucking you relentlessly until you could do nothing but cry out and scream his name. Your own personal mantra. A merciless spark took over your body until every inch of you trembled, as a wetness spread onto your sheets beneath you.

“Wow, baby, you are amazing,” he sighed, granting you a moment to regain your composure.

It felt as though you had run a marathon, you were breathing so hard.

“Was that?” You asked in shock through breaths, “did I?”

“Yes, and it was amazing,” he confirmed, releasing your hands from his thick leather belt. “Don’t tell me you’ve never squirted before.”

You shook your head vigorously, the freedom of your hands allowing you to pull his face towards you in a passionate kiss. He growled over you, capturing you by the waist, allowing your bodies to savor the heat and sweat from one another.

“You taste so good,” he praised. “Sorry about your bodysuit, I guess I’ll have to buy you a new one.”

It didn’t matter. Clothes just seemed like an annoying inconvenience. You needed to be naked with him. You felt how rock hard his member was, upright and ready for you.

“Ben, please, I need you inside me.”

“Condom?”

You held his gaze before speaking, “I’m clean and protected, you?”

The excitement rose within you again at his confirmation. He leaned over you, his eyes almost black with lust. He pushed your legs apart with his muscular thighs before kneeling upright, his large, capable hands dragging your hips towards him. He wrapped your legs around his hips as he grabbed the base of his throbbing cock, slapping it to your clit, nearly making you scream. Your heart pounded into your ears as he lined up his tip to your glistening entrance. He pushed through your slickness, inch by inch, agonizingly slow, rewarding you with his pulsating girth . You threw your head back, nearly sobbing as he stretched you. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as he rolled his hips into yours, moving his length in and out.

“You’re so big, you feel so good,” you praised as you felt him increase his pace.

“I’m never leaving this pretty little cunt,” he groaned as he rolled and thrust into you.

“Faster, baby, fuck me harder, faster,” you implored.

His thick fingers pressed into your hips, and he began to drive into you exactly as you asked, pounding into your tight, wet cunt. Your name left his lips in repeated growls through gritted teeth. It was like he fucking owned you. A gravelly hiss leaves his throat as your walls rippled and squeezed his thick cock. He thrusted deep into you, hitting your g-spot and you gifted him with a loud moan of his name, your voice unable to form any other words.

His left hand pressed down hard at the base of your neck, and you felt his thrusts begin to roll into you at a slower pace. With his right hand, he lifted your knee towards your chest, hooking it over his shoulder. A pleading whimper escaped your lips when it felt like he was almost completely out of you. But as quickly as the thought drifted in, he pounded into you even harder than before. The pleasure was amplified one-hundred times with the newfound angle. The way his cock pounded your g-spot was somehow better this way and just as you thought it couldn’t get more perfect, Ben took his hand from your neck and began circling your clit with his thumb.

You let out a long, loud moan, crying out his name in a never-ending chant. “Ben! I can’t, my pussy can’t, I’m gonna cum!”

“Fuck, me too, baby,” he moaned with each thrust. “Wh—where, can I?”

“Cum inside me!” you demanded.

His cock throbbed and reverberated in you, until you found it impossible to contain everything you felt. Your orgasm washed all over you, your core quivering and every part of your body shaking as he thrust in with every bit of strength he had. Not once, not twice, but three more times, he chased your high with his own until you felt him fill you with ropes of his sweet, hot cum. Your voice cried out with him as he hissed and moaned through his own orgasm. His cock stayed sheathed within you, savoring how your core pulsated around him. He released his hands from your hips and slowly he pulled out of you. You let out a luxurious gasp, feeling a twinge of sadness from not feeling him inside you anymore.

A breath of satisfied exhaustion left him as he rolled next to you, but he also deftly found a way to wrap you in his arms, pulling you close into him. You came down from your high together and you listened intently to his heartbeat as you caressed his chest gently with your fingers. He brought his left hand to yours and began to mirror your gentle touches, bringing your palm to his lips kissing the inside of it. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you even closer, your legs tangled together, your bodies still glowing. You closed your eyes, breathing him in as you felt the velvety soft touch of his fingers caressing your hair and your shoulders. He pressed his soft lips to your forehead, a kiss so gentle it stood in direct contrast to how relentlessly he had fucked you. And it all felt right.

You looked up at him and he held his gaze to yours. A serene smile grew on your face, your cheeks flushing with a rosy warmth.

“Wow,” was the only thing that could leave your lips as you caught your breath.

The balmy air of sex hovered over you. A feeling of surprise and giddiness mixed in with the afterglow as you thought of the pale pink impressions the leather of his belt left on your wrists. Just thinking of the way he controlled your body with his tongue, hands, and cock was almost enough to make your arousal reawaken.

“Mmmm, that was not…vanilla,” you exhaled, chuckling at the thought of him eating those snack wafers, “you are an enigma, sweet Ben.”

“Thank you, I think?” He laughed.

Your hand traced up his Adam’s apple, snuggling against him and caressing your fingers along his endearingly patchy facial hair. You propped yourself up and brought your face close to his, nuzzling your nose against his, inviting him in for a sensual kiss.

“I promise you, it’s a good thing,” a giggle escaped your lips. “Even just laying here with you is…it’s something.”

“Something you want to try again?” he asked, his breath hitching as he waited for your answer.

“Fuck yeah,” you replied without hesitation. “But…”

“Uh oh, there’s a…butt!” He laughed, as he smacked your behind, tingling your core again with desire.

“Ben,” you laughed with him, gently caressing the soft skin of his pelvis, “what I was going to say is, ‘yes, there is a 100 percent chance of this happening again,’ as long as you take me out on a real date.”

He nodded in agreement, giving you the most attractive and radiant smile.

“How does breakfast sound?”

“Mmmm,” you whispered, pulling your soft bed sheets over the two of you, “I would love that.”

Thank you to my darling friends @legendary-pink-dot & @blueheat1-blog for beta-ing this for me! <3

#mr. ben x reader #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal fic #juice bar collective #juice collective

88 notes · View notes

chaoticgeminate · 1 year

Text

Rainy Days

Pairing: Mr. Ben (SNL Skit) x f!Reader Rating: E (Thar be smut ahead) Word Count: 7.2k

Potential Warnings/Notes: Reader is coded to be between below average to average height and plus size, no other descriptors were used.

Summary: Your soul mark was a rain cloud shaped tattoo on your inner left wrist, hollow with little stars and mushrooms inside the cloud and small raindrops dotted down your arm turned into a little pool right before the bend of your elbow. By now there were plenty of self-proclaimed ‘experts’ who said you would meet your soulmate on a rainy night, that each raindrop was a day you would be near them but never actually talk to them.

Your soul mark was a rain cloud shaped tattoo on your inner left wrist, hollow with little stars and mushrooms inside the cloud and small raindrops dotted down your arm turned into a little pool right before the bend of your elbow. By now there were plenty of self-proclaimed ‘experts’ who said you would meet your soulmate on a rainy night, that each raindrop was a day you would be near them but never actually talk to them.

Those ‘experts’ basically told you what you already knew and tried to charge you money for it, the mushrooms were a bit of a throw -you did have to give one guy creative credit when he said there’d be a fungi fueled apocalypse and that you’d meet your soulmate after it happened- but ultimately it wasn’t actual help.

All your friends around your home town had been quick to drag you out on nights it rained because of your mark, to bars or the movies or whatever public space they could think of, places where you would see or encounter people. They would try to get you to wear short sleeve and sleeveless shirts under your jacket for the chance that your match would notice, and while you were happy they were so invested in your happiness it was exhausting.

Moving away from your home city had been a bid for freedom in more ways than one, no longer under pressure to meet your person and no longer the only unmatched person in the group, the new acquaintances you had made through your new office were very much more your speed in regards to your marks and soulmate meetings in general. Escaping the corporate rat race for a private tech firm had been the best move you made, even if you’d end up fulfilling your duties on site at whatever contract location you had been assigned to and not around your other tech associates.

The general philosophy was: When you met them was when you met them, rushing to find them was only going to lead to unnecessary disappointment.

Which was why you were currently spending today’s rainy evening in a secluded bookshop with a lovely ambiance, the smell of paper and the soft sound of pages turning paired with the soft lighting gave it a magical feel. It was one of the only 24/7 bookstores you ever heard of, the owner Kathleen and her partner Louise were one of the cutest soulmate pairs you had met. You felt safe and warm, cozy as the pavement outside shimmered from the glow of the streetlights, and more importantly alone.

You were finally given an assignment at work so you’d promised to keep in touch with Bryn and the others at the office despite your assignment and then decided you needed some time alone.

Currently hidden in the corner of the shelves well out of sight, scouring the spines to track down the book on a research topic -the key differences between bacteria, fungi, and viruses- which you knew they had, you realized belatedly it was on the shelves above you and exhaled before grabbing one of the stools that were kept folded between the wooden bookshelves for people that were gravitationally challenged like you were.

Anyone that called you short could get stuffed.

Plus, the book wasn’t exactly on like a higher shelf near the middle, it was up there, and your exhale of irritation was soft as you scaled the stool to peruse the upper shelves. Humming in victory when you managed to find it, pulling the stout volume from between its neighbors and placing it into the tote style shopping bag over your shoulder, and when you tucked the stool away you began to meander to look for something to read for fun too.

There was someone at the register, all you could see was their broad back, the blue dress shirt was pulled pretty tightly and tapered into a fairly narrow waist; a cute little butt in black slacks and the brown belt to match his leather shoes, but you averted your eyes quickly when Louise caught you looking. Hurrying to hide behind the shelves because there was no way in hell you could come out of hiding until he was gone now, no doubt Louise had tattled since he loved to meddle.

Finding two fiction novels, one high fantasy and the other sci-fi, you decided that you had spent enough time and that he should be gone after what felt like ages. The door had opened and closed a few times, all you needed to do was get your books and go home. Rounding the corner with far more confidence than you felt you very nearly stopped dead in your tracks, the man was sitting in the reading area with his book open, and now you could see the cute patchy beard peppered with grays just like his dark curls.

He was fucking hot.

You hated that his eyes shot up to the sound of your books falling out of your hands, thankfully he hadn’t caught you staring because the second you fumbled the books you’d already diverted your attention -mostly- to try and catch them. Overwhelmed by the humiliation risk, since you were used to being surrounded by people on nights like this not easy to be singled out, your eyes began to water slightly.

“Hey are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

Those massive hands of his held all of your chosen books so easily in one of them, his brown eyes were soulful and soft, and his lower lip had the cutest little divot that you wanted to kiss.

“Oh, uh, ‘m just awkward and clumsy. Kind of, a uh, volatile combination for things like this.” Your awkward laugh tacked onto the end faded, taking your books from him as you both stood up, and you imagined that this was when he excused himself to get away from you. Instead of walking away from you he steadied your elbows and smiled, it made the hair on your arms stand up and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“I think you just need to get lost in a good book, let me buy you a tea since it’s still raining out there. I’m Benjamin Morales, but everyone just calls me Ben.”

You relented and sat with him at his table after introducing yourself and giving him your drink order, staring at the book he had open on the table with a soft smile. Constellations and Cosmos was a book you had a copy of on your shelf at home, a sort of ‘dummy’s guide to the universe’ style book, and you realized he had tests sitting on the table.

“You’re a teacher?”

“Yeah, I work at St. Lawrence High School, it’s hard sometimes but the kids are good even if they use a lot of lingo that I don’t always understand.”

He laughed when you nodded, your nieces and nephews did that and it was a struggle to keep up, you at least could ask them to translate it into “Millennial” for you though.

“I told my nieces and nephews to make an official translation guide, that they’d get rich really quickly off of it.”

“They would! That’s a genius idea, I’d buy the first copy.”

Both of you shared a laugh and you couldn’t help but glance at his arms, the long sleeve shirt hid what you were looking for unfortunately and there was no way you were going to ask him to roll his sleeves up. But you felt a very… intense feeling about him; like he was magnetic to a degree that was almost distracting.

“So, St. Lawrence? I, uh, start there in two days. Not as a teacher but, like, I’ll be a part of the tech team. PR, internet security, that sort of thing.”

“That’s excellent, they want me to do a seminar on appropriate use of devices and I could use someone to help me figure it out.”

You couldn’t stop the way your brows furrowed at his clear discomfort.

“You mean like not using the school wi-fi or computers to try and access porn or download potential viruses and malware?”

He hummed and grabbed his phone, pulling something up, and you blinked at the sudden shiny video of him on TikTok. You hated that you memorized the creator’s name, it wasn’t fair to him, but the video was honestly pretty decent for it being mashed up clips of moments when he was in class.

“Yes, but also these. They’ve been making thousands of these fancam videos, they’re everywhere! So, basically, the school wants to blanket ban all of it, they’re making a rule not to film the staff since they’ve just added more camera coverage to the entire building.”

“You can report the existing fancams to TikTok, that you’re in them without your consent, they’ll get taken down.”

He looked at you like you’d hung the moon.

“That doesn’t mean they’ll all just stop making them but I can help you at least try and clean up how many there are.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

“Of course, Ben, let me help you.”

Spending time over tea reporting fancams of a cute teacher you’d be working with soon wasn’t what you imagined happening tonight but you wouldn’t complain, not when you had great company and a guy that you thought was genuinely sweet. Someone who, even if he wasn’t your soulmate, you could be happy with if he was single too.

“Did you hear?! Everyone saw Mr. Ben and Ms. Jenny out together at the mall, there’s no way they aren’t soulmates.”

It was inescapable, inevitable even, hearing it day in and day out.

“I heard Mr. Ben and Ms. Jenny are planning on getting married and having a honeymoon in Columbia.”

Rumors in a high school were very normal but recently these had been getting on your nerves, it wasn’t even the students’ fault or anyone’s really, just your own brain being dumb and making up things that clearly weren’t there. Ben had greeted you happily when you’d reported for your first day, going around and introducing yourself to the rest of the staff since your first order of business was to match faces to names as best you could.

Ben had given up reorganizing his classroom to follow you around and help you feel welcome with the other teachers, including the aforementioned Ms. Jenny, and you’d been forced to watch him tease the other woman about the posters on her walls that she’d been forced to put up over the fancam thing. As you’d expected the student body had been a mess after the first day seminar where the new rule against recording staff was announced, which meant that instead of making fancams they were now just doing what kids always did and playing the year-long telephone game.

Two weeks into the year and already you’d heard that the two were secretly married, getting married, or dating along with where they planned to go for their honeymoon. Honestly you wanted to ask them if they were paying for some of these events because traveling to all of these places on a teacher’s salary? In this economy? Absolutely not.

Kieran snorted softly beside you, the pair of you were walking around getting photos to put up on the school website for the “welcome back” article, his eyes on the pack of girls that had just disappeared into the girls room and delivered the latest rumor for the rumor mill of Mr. Ben and Ms. Jenny.

“What?” His eyes rolled skyward before he stopped to snap a photo of the main office, the bullet proof glass windows that still allowed the secretaries to look out were new along with the mechanical locks, but you understood the reasoning. All of the classrooms had tighter security features in this day and age, it was… depressing.

“I can’t believe we used to act this way too, kids are definitely creative.” He snapped a photo of the closed door of the Earth Sciences classroom, angling his body enough to get Luis and his students in the frame.

“What the rumors? I mean, Ben and Jenny do flirt a lot.” As you lifted your own camera, crouching just a bit to get a better shot of Jiho pulling her whisk out of the bowl and just the top of the student’s heads, you could hear Kieran stifle another soft laugh.

“You and I flirt a lot too, don’t mean we’re a thing.” He had a point and you rolled your shoulders in a shrug, snapping your photo right as Jiho turned her whisk to showcase the shine of the glossy batter as it ribboned off the utensil. Kieran went to go upstairs next, pointing to Ben’s open door, and you felt your face warm as the man walked right past it so you’d have to get the picture inside. Ben was animated as ever with his lectures and you crouched lower and snapped a few photos to get a good angle of the students taking notes.

Most of them were staring at him dreamily so you had tried to hide as much of that as you could, all it would take was one parent not liking the way the image looked and trying to report him for something stupid, it was why you went out of your way to keep faces out of your shots.

When your shoe squeaked loudly while you were getting up you were greeted by a surprised Ben who sheepishly closed his classroom door, it was a rule that some of the teachers struggled with still, and Kieran puckered his lips and made kissy faces at you when you rejoined him. Your nose wrinkled and you shoved him lightly, earning another laugh, before the two of you got back to work.

The cameras were always on and always being monitored now, after all, and while you were both on the cyber side of the security team the trained security officers hired to monitor the cameras weren’t afraid to be pricks whenever they felt like it.

“That’s why you don’t like it, you have a crush. You should tell him, the actual chances of meeting your soulmate are really low odds.”

Kieran glanced at your arm again, he’d seen your soul mark already, and you knew that he had a point; his soulmate was passed already, his tattoo nothing more than scar tissue now, and he’d spent a long-time turning people down because he’d wanted to meet the one.

“Well, I would need to know if he at least likes me back enough to give me a chance, it doesn’t help that he flirts with Jenny all the time.” You took pictures of the banners and posters about the school’s updated security measures, and hated that you were so twisted up over this. You should just do the adult thing, you knew, and invite him out somewhere. You were a modern woman and more than capable of asking a man out on a date, but something told you that Ben was… he’d be all encompassing.

The magnetic feeling you got when you were around him told you enough, that he’d be impossible to let go of, you were afraid of when affection would become love; that it would change you into someone possessive and toxic because you would never want to have a reason to walk away. You saw it in your family plenty of times, aunts and uncles turning aggressively jealous, your own parents were a brand of toxic that left a sour note in your life and you were terrified you’d inherited that behavior.

Dating and marrying outside of your soulmate was difficult, because what were you supposed to do if your someone met The One other than be happy for them?

Kieran patted your back gently and followed you down the next hall, changing the conversation for your sake.

“You going to the football game tonight?”

Ben’s voice interrupted your quiet, the school webpage backend code currently up on your monitor as you worked to change up a few of the links for the newsletter page, everyone else was already gone since the first football game of the season was a big deal here. Ben was leaning on the door way with his coat on already, signifying he was headed out, and you shrugged in response. You had almost gone to invite him yourself when you’d spotted him and Jenny talking about saving each other a seat on the bleachers, choosing to just walk away instead of look like an idiot when it was obvious that was a date plan.

“I don’t really know, probably not, reliving my own marching band days isn’t really something I’m keen on doing.” You hadn’t meant to confess that much but just outright saying no felt like a coward move, a chair was pulled out beside yours and Ben sat down with an amused look on his face that made your own face warm up.

“Marching band? You? Wait let me guess, you played… tuba?”

“Nope.”

Your keys clacked away as you modified the first of five links, pasting in the paragraph of text you’d written to go with the new link.

“Trumpet?”

“Nah-uh.”

He hummed loudly, contemplating, and you nearly choked when he took your right hand to look at it carefully. Running his fingertips over your skin softly, inspecting your palm like it told all your secrets.

“Saxophone?”

“Strike three, Ben, you’re out.”

If he caught the airiness in your tone he didn’t make a notice of it, you were almost breathless from the way he was still just gliding his fingertips along your skin. When he brushed the sleeve of your cardigan, near your soul mark, you flinched slightly and it was enough for him to let go. He must’ve seen the very top curve of the cloud on your skin, his lips parting to ask, and you pulled your arm away to finish up what you were doing.

“I played clarinet, saxophone wasn’t so far off.”

Ben huffed softly at your very obvious intent to avoid talking about what he’d gotten a peek of but he indulged this time.

“That means you’re good with your hands, huh?” He smirked and you knew he meant that double entendre, making your entire body ignite under the way his dark eyes met yours. It was intense and you felt like the oxygen in the room had thinned out or something, but as you finished and saved the new data for the website you glanced at him again.

You got up and smirked, grabbing you jacket and bag, before reaching out and ruffling his curls gently.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Ben’s face erupted into a flush and he didn’t follow you out, too busy gaping at your back, a thrill of victory rippled through you for being the one to fluster him this time. Especially with his date with Jenny soon, the fact that he even flirted with you while planning a date actually made you wonder if she knew that he was doing this behind her back. As you got into your car you made a snap decision to show up to the game, if only to tell Jenny that Ben was flirting behind her back.

It wasn’t actually cheating, you hadn’t kissed him or anything, but you didn’t know if you were the first or if she might consider flirting as cheating. You tossed together a quick light meal, it was nostalgic as hell but you kind of wanted a concession stand dinner, and picked a warmer outfit for the weather. September wasn’t too chilly at night but you didn’t want to wear a heavy jacket, it would be more comfortable to just layer up.

The bleachers were packed with parents and teachers already, the football team was stretching and getting ready as the other school’s marching band got ready for the opening field show, and you spotted Kieran and Jackie waving at you. Striding up to where they were sitting, plopping down beside Jackie, you ignored the way she leaned into her soulmate Anna’s side and pointed out two of the players as students that had tried to buy their way onto the front of the school newsletter.

“Surprised you came out, didn’t think you liked high school football.”

“I was a marching band kid, lots of memories.”

As the other team started playing, a marching band adaptation of movie soundtrack hits with their choreography being something relating to the corresponding movie, you couldn’t help but feel wistful for a minute. A smile settled on your face, just being out here in the crisp September air again, smelling concession stand hot chocolate and hot dogs, brought you back to your teen years.

“Oh? Any good memories?”

Kieran looked genuinely curious and you hummed lightly.

“Well, we did competition marching band, so I got to attend statewide contests; I hated trying to get changed on the bus, we had to wear long johns under our clothes so that we could stay warm and not end up showing too much. But I think the best memory was getting a first kiss under the bleachers from my crush, a cheerleader, but it didn’t work out obviously; she found her soulmate during Festival Disney in our Junior year. I avoided dating, after that, because I just… I got scared of the idea that I’d fall hard and then they’d meet their person.”

“Trust me, I know exactly how you feel. I was that person who found my soulmate while I was with someone else. We’re sort of friends, it’s a hard situation.” Anna offered a pained smile at their confession, making you nod, and you could tell Jackie felt guilty and imagined it was because the ex was either in the area or worked at the school as a teacher.

“That why you’re afraid to fess up to Ben?” Jackie leaned on her hand and you huffed softly.

“Yea, that and I’m pretty sure Jenny wouldn’t like me poaching her boyfriend.”

Anna’s eyes widened but before she could say anything you heard your name, spotting Ben and Jenny waving along with a few other teachers following them up.

“You made it, excellent, feels good to be back right?” Ben’s sunny smile looked somehow more vibrant under the intense lighting, this early in the year it wasn’t too dark yet but it would be soon, and you hated that Kieran had to nudge you to snap you out of your little trance. Nodding frantically, to avoid looking like an idiot, it was all you could do to not leave when Jenny sat down and Ben claimed the seat beside her.

Larry, Micah, Luis, and Jiho sat somewhere around you so that the staff was mostly together; parents began piling in as the school marching band walked under the bleachers to get to their seats on the other side, and the announcers began to get things rolling. One of Anna’s senior sopranos performed the National Anthem, leading to thunderous applause, and you let yourself sink into the game rather than focusing on the fact that Ben could turn his head to look at you at any time.

Passing out praise to the band members for their halftime show, while heading to the stand to get yourself a hot chocolate and something to eat, you felt the hand slide into yours and blinked as Ben stepped up beside you.

“Sorry, didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.” His hand was warm in yours, your heartbeat starting to thunder slightly, and you noticed the way several students whipped their heads around to look at the two of you.

“How’re you going to do this when our hands are full?”

“Actually, before we go back I was hoping I could talk to you, privately?” When you nodded he led you away from the stand, just off the side but mostly out of sight by anyone since there was freezer truck for the extra food. You felt that stirring in your heart, being alone like this, and hoped you didn’t look like you were going to pass out.

“So, uh, what’s up Ben?”

He squared his shoulders and squeezed your hand, looking a little lost, before finally he seemed to just work up all the nerves he had.

“I really, really, like you and was hoping that maybe since this can’t be a first date you’d let me take you out? The bookshop café is pretty nice?”

He was asking you out, on a date, while he was… on a date? You weren’t used to getting things about people like him wrong, he’d seemed so genuinely kind, it was almost a slap in the face if you had to be honest with yourself.

“Your girlfriend won’t mind? I’m not a unicorn that’s willing to do a three way.”

That had to be it, he and Jenny wanted a third so they’d decided to try and convince you to be that person, you’d been baited on dating apps hundreds of times by a possible night out with someone only to find out there was a partner involved. Ben’s shocked face, entirely confused, was almost believable.

“Girlfriend? What are you talking about, I’m single.”

“So you didn’t invite Jenny to the game on a date, promising to save her a seat like the dutiful boyfriend you are? I hear the kids talk, Ben, you’re always with her even though you flirt with me and it’s really not cool. I don’t want to be the butt of a joke, okay? I won’t tell anyone about this I just-“

“Jenny isn’t my girlfriend.” His voice dropped into a low pitch, there was frustration on his face but not aimed at you -how you could tell you didn’t know, you just could- and Ben sighed so loudly that you almost expected students to show up with cameras any second. The fancams hadn’t stopped but they had slowed down, especially with you and Ben reporting them whenever you came across any, you’d been in a couple of them too.

Feeling vulnerable, defensive, you crossed your arms and waited for his explanation.

“I’m serious, her soulmate Breanna couldn’t make it tonight since she works til midnight, Jenny is my best friend but there’s nothing romantic between us. I’ve been with her asking advice to try and ask you out, actually, because you never- sometimes you flirt back but then you’ll ice me out.”

He looked just as vulnerable as you felt, grabbing his phone and showing you Jenny’s social media with Breanna and even letting you see their text history, it was literally him asking about advice on flowers and if he should get a restaurant reservation or just wing it.

“Ben-“

“I know it’s hard to date someone that isn’t your soulmate but can we try? Please?”

Before you could chicken out you were ripping off your flannel, ignoring his ‘hey woah’ as you rolled up the sleeve of your undershirt, and showed him the very obvious mark.

“Can’t you see, Ben? This isn’t a cute little soul mark that I can throw make up on and hide, this will always be here staring at me and you, other people couldn’t do it before and I’m so tired of being hurt. This mark always reminded people that someone else was out there-“

“Me. I’m right here.”

His four words stopped your tirade entirely as he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, his matching mark staring back at you, making your entire body ignite like fireworks were going off under your skin. You felt the tears forming in your eyes, disbelief and relief and excitement, and Ben reached up to wipe them away; you couldn’t help but touch his mark, skating your fingers along the black lines, and his breath caught slightly at the contact. He tipped his head down toward yours and you closed the gap, gripping the jersey he’d worn tightly to hold him still as his arms wound around your body and pulled you closer.

You would have continued, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you, if it weren’t for the throat clearing of a senior staff member who had come out to get more stuff from the cold truck. Ramon, the librarian, rolled his eyes and pointed to the parking lot.

“Hurry up, nobody noticed yet, before you two end up with even more fancams showing up on TokTok or whatever it is.”

Hiding your face in Ben’s chest, his own giggles above you making you laugh too, it was easy to grab your flannel and head for the parking lot. Now that the fuse had been lit you couldn’t stop it, wanting his hands on you this very second. Ben pressed you against your car, shamelessly caging you against the driver’s side door and you let him, one leg hiking up to pull him closer and his hands grabbing your ass to make you grind against him.

“Gonna- gonna have to stop before I fuck you against your car, sweetheart.”

“Yours or mine?”

His groan as you began mouthing at the long line of his neck made you double your efforts to find all his soft spots and Ben’s hand kneaded your ass in retaliation.

“My apartment isn’t soundproofed but I don’t care-“

“Mine, not ready to give your neighbors an audio show just yet. My house is pretty set back from the road and I have distance from the neighbors.”

Ben captured your mouth again and you felt the tears on his cheeks when you moved your hands to hold his face.

“I’m so happy that we found each other, sweetheart.”

“Me too, Ben, me too.”

He pulled away to get his car, entirely reluctant on both of your parts, but you knew the rumors would start if you had to bring him back on a Saturday to pick the vehicle up. Call it selfish but you wanted a little more time without the entire student body knowing about you and Ben, even if the truth would eventually get out. The drive to your place felt long, with you constantly checking the rearview to make sure Ben was still there, and as you pulled into your driveway the garage door opened and you parked on the left side like always.

Ben hesitated but pulled into the right when you pointed, the door closing behind his car, and he whistled when he shut and locked the car door.

“Fancy.”

“Former fortune five-hundred IT slave, more like, this was bought with my severance pay.” It had been a relief to get out and move to the smaller tech company, being contracted to work at the school was a bonus, and you had played it smart with your check to make sure you could cover yourself when needed. House bought out in full, car bought in cash, and a good chunk still left for home emergencies if they popped up.

Ben’s smile was fond, even with the heat burning in his eyes, and he cupped your cheeks to kiss you again.

“Should I apologize that my teacher’s salary is shit?”

“No, I know you teach because you’re passionate about it. That is far sexier to me than you making a lot of money.”

Ben chuckled and you led him out of the garage, giving him a tour of your place first, and you had to bite your lip because he recognized every art print on your walls and had given details about them that you didn’t know. It was so damn attractive how passionate he was about things and by the time you made it to your bedroom the stolen chaste kisses, the light touches, and the way he whispered facts about your art in your ear had you ready to get on your knees for this man.

“I didn’t know you knew that much about classic art, Ben.”

“Thought about being an art teacher, took classes about Art History in college, but I changed my mind and went for science instead.”

He hesitated in the doorway to your bedroom and cleared his throat gently.

“If you want me to stop, at any time, tell me. I mean it, if you aren’t enthusiastic or you just don’t feel it that won’t chase me off. I just want to learn more about you and be with you.” If you’d had any reservations before they were gone, you sat down on your bed and dropped the flannel to the floor without a care for where it landed.

“I am enthusiastically consenting to you getting naked and fucking me into this mattress, Ben.”

His eyes raked across your form, he’d left his leather jacket downstairs on the coat stand so he pulled his jersey over his head and tossed it aside leaving him in the white undershirt and his jeans. Stilling your grab for your placket and kissing you before getting down on his knees between your spread legs, pulling your socks off first and nuzzling the denim hugging your legs as his hands caressed the outside of your thighs and moved inward.

“Take your shirt off for me, sweetheart, slowly.”

Ben’s voice was liquid honey and you grabbed the back of your shirt collar, tugging at the back of the fabric and moving a little slower than usual so that your skin and bra were the show he wanted. The sound of his throaty groan made you feel sexy, even with the extra rolls you had that you often poked at in the mirror on your bad days, Ben surged up so fast that his knees cracked but neither of you paid it any mind as his legs pushed your thighs open so he could kiss you and his hand fumbled with the shirt trapping your arms.

The fabric hit the floor after a moment of struggling, his mouth never leaving yours, and he cupped the curve of your breasts in his hands before his thumbs swirled over your nipples and you arched into him. Ben let out a soft sound as your hands went right to his hair, sliding back to grab at his shirt, and he let you pull the white fabric off him fully. You were distracted by the sight of your shared soul mark on his skin, capturing his arm to kiss the mark, and his eyes fluttered closed before he let himself just press you into the mattress.

The weight of him over you, the feeling of the slight swell to his soft tummy, the way the curve of his nose felt against yours and his lips skating along your skin made gooseflesh erupt along your skin. You were leaking with how bad you wanted him, you could feel how wet you were, and every nerve ending felt like it was alive with sensation as he breathed you in.

“I want to do this slow; I really do, sweetheart.”

“You can have me any way you want me, Ben.”

He whimpered, whimpered, at your reply before dragging his mouth down your body; down your neck and across your collar bones, cataloguing every single spot that made you writhe for him, and when he mouthed at your nipples under the fabric of your bra your back arched into his mouth and your hips pressed into his body as his hands held your waist.

“Ben- fuck!”

Having his teeth pinch lightly through the fabric, the sharp sensation soothed by the wet of his tongue as he dampened the fabric, you couldn’t control the way your hips jumped or your mouth. You weren’t above begging for what you wanted, the fact that this was your soulmate only compounded the sensations, the desire to just be as close to him as physically possible was overwhelming to a near painful degree.

“Please- please Ben I need-“

“Tell me, sweetheart, tell me what you need.”

“I’m- I’m so wet, Ben, please I need you to make me come.”

His groan was musical and his hands tugged your jeans down your legs, spotting the way the fabric of your underwear was so messy that the crease of your thighs and the insides of your thighs were slick with your desire.

“Sweetheart.” Incredulous and awestruck, the word was a throaty rasp as he dragged his finger along the fabric covering you, and when you whimpered his name Ben pulled the fabric down your legs and pressed one finger against your entrance.

“I’ve got two condoms in my wallet, I’m clean though and I have my physical from last week on my phone, it’s been a while since I’ve dated.”

“Clean too, it’s been a while for me, I’m on birth control so you don’t have to use the condoms if you don’t want to.”

He stared at you, as if he were debating, and you had to admit you were surprised that he did in fact grab one of his condoms. When he caught your eyes following his hands as he emptied his pockets onto your night table, phone and keys joining his wallet, Ben winked and waved the condom with a hum.

“Statistically speaking the percentage is an almost guarantee that I won’t get you pregnant, but I’m not going to risk it. If you want, we can discuss a vasectomy for me sometime until we know for sure what the future looks like, if you wanted to go off birth control I mean.”

Him standing there, offering to get a vasectomy, holding a condom in his hand with your soul mark branded on his skin was probably the hottest thing you’d ever had happen in your life.

“Put that condom on and fuck me, Ben.”

Watching the way his eyes widened before he nodded, not looking away as you took your bra off, Ben grabbed a towel from your master bathroom when you went to get settled on the bed fully before he was stripping off his pants and boxer briefs in one go. You both had wanted to go slow but the sight of him, hard and leaking, made you practically gush; he had even grabbed you a damn towel and that consideration had you reaching for him as soon as the condom was on.

Ben smiled fondly but it melted to a look of bliss when he leaned down to kiss you and you grabbed a handful of his cute little butt to grind against him, dragging the length of him through your wetness, his mouth parting against yours before he shifted his knees just slightly and rocked against you with the intent for friction. You moaned when he brushed your clit, his body pressing tighter to drag along that spot, and Ben angled your face into the kiss while you lifted your legs to angle your hips.

“Feel so fucking good like this, sweetheart I’m not going to last-“

“Me either, please Ben don’t make me wait.”

It was slow, the way he pressed into you, the thickness of him was a burning stretch but you wanted it.

“Next time I’m going to make you come on my fingers, on my tongue, at least twice before I fill you up; gotta- gotta make sure it feels good for you.”

“It does- Ben it does feel good.”

He pressed his forehead against your shoulder as his hips slotted to yours, bending his knees and pushing your legs wider, and you stared up at him as he pulled himself upright to watch where he filled you with each thrust. Holding your arms in a backward hold so both of you could see your matched soul mark on the other’s skin.

The drag of him, the heft of him gliding against you with each in and out motion was drawing small gasps and sharp whines out of you as he whispered your name like a damn prayer; like he couldn’t get enough, like he couldn’t believe you were real. Ben dropped down to get closer to you, thrusts becoming a harsh grind of his hips as he kissed you deep, and the way his body was rubbing against your clit with each motion had you beginning to feel yourself fall.

“Ben-Ben~”

Your cry of his name was cut off into a loud moan as you came, hard, around him; the velvet clutch of your body trying to keep him inside of you as he worked you through your orgasm, his motions become a sharp humping motion.

“Fill me up Ben.”

He cried out your name loudly, it was so sexy to hear him the raspy call of your name as his hips stuttered, and you both just laid there for a moment breathing; the weight of him was comforting, the feel of his mouth against your neck made you turn your head, and he captured you mouth in a lazy kiss. You let him roll you over, so you were on top of him, and he nuzzled your forearm where your soul mark pulsed like a heartbeat.

The hooded eyes and natural pout of his lips made you lean down to kiss him, earning a soft smile, and you nuzzled your nose to his gently.

“Now will you say yes to a date?”

“I’ll say yes to all of the dates, Ben, if it’s you.”

His smile was soft, shy, and tender as he cupped your cheek and hummed.

“Even if its dorky science dates or museum days?”

“Absolutely. As long as you don’t mind botanical gardens and nature walks, or classes on things like pottery and cooking.”

“Sweetheart, I promise you that I’m a teacher but I’m a very attentive student.”

The tone absolutely implied his mind went elsewhere but you didn’t care, smirking fondly at his own raunchy smile, and you traced the shell of his ear with one of your fingers.

“I’ll have to make sure I help you study, got some things you don’t know yet that’ll be on the quiz.”

He laughed, and you laughed too, at the cheesy remarks.

“I think we should not do that, at least not until I retire, I cannot pop a boner in class because someone says quiz.”

He was still inside of you, still holding you close after just making you have an earth shattering orgasm, and now you two were cracking jokes. He was perfect for you.

“Well, we can’t have that at all. Just means we’ll have to come up with other sexy innuendos.”

“Or I can just tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve met and that I’ve had a crush since the bookshop.”

“I too started crushing on you at the bookshop.”

“I know, Louise told me you were staring at my butt.”

“It’s a cute butt.”

He rolled you to your side, on the towel still, so he could pull out to get cleaned up and you watched his back with a smile. Wolf whistling and earning a fondly exasperated look over his shoulder, your arm held in a way that let him see the mark so clearly on your skin, and Ben returned after cleaning himself and you up to pull you against him under the covers.

“Can I stay the weekend?”

“Not going to grab clothes?”

“Will I need them?”

“No, not really.”

All Fics Taglist: @haylzcyon @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @tauralmie @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @aynsleywalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80 @emiemiemiii

#ben morales x f!reader #mr. ben snl x f!reader #snl sketch fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #chaoticwrites #cw smut #minors dni

159 notes · View notes