Intimate (Oneshot book)

XXX |Extra Credit (Markiplier x Reader)

(Every chapter that begins with an XXX has smut in it.)

You were walking down the hallways, listening to music as you were on your way to English class. You knew the way by heart at this point, not even needing to think about where to go. Today's class would be interesting though, and you were excited, but also somewhat dreading it. You would be meeting your new English teacher today, and you had no idea what to expect. Your old teacher, a middle aged man named Mr. Barnett, had gone into retirement, leaving behind all his wonderful students. You all would surely miss him. He assured you all, however, that you would be left in good hands, having known the new teacher personally. He even mentioned teaching them for a time.
Upon entering the classroom, you only saw a couple of students in their seats. The teacher was nowhere in sight.
You walk over to the desk you usually sat in, and sigh softly. Taking out your earbuds, you turn your music off and put your phone on the corner of your desk. You take another glance around the room as you see more students file in, but still no teacher. You look towards the front of the room and no longer see a mess of papers on the teacher's desk. It looks significantly neater, everything in a specific place. You see a black blazer draped across the chair behind it as well.
Picking up your phone to scroll though Tumblr, you sigh, hoping this teacher would be nice. You didn't need your year ruined by some greying, decrepit, old lady.
Not to long later, the teacher angrily stalks into the room. He's clutching the attendance folder in his right hand, his left in a fist. He's scowling something fierce, eyes narrowed behind a pair of black rimmed glasses. He was somewhat short, had dark, nearly jet black hair, tan skin, and scruff on his face. He seemed to stomp to his desk, standing behind it and slamming his hands down onto the surface.
Nearly all the students jumped in surprise and he seemed to radiate hate off of his body. The veins in his arms bulged menacingly, looking as if he could completely shatter the desk before him with only one mere tap. His eyes are narrowed, sweeping over the crowd of unsuspecting victims. Everyone held their breath as he fixed his jaw to, you assumed, talk.
He suddenly bursted into laughter, though, and the whole class made noises of confusion, looking around at one another confusedly.
"Come on, guys! I was just kidding; lighten up!" He said, a bright smile on his face, his perfect pearly whites nearly obstructing your vision. "I'm not some strict, bitter hardass." He waves a hand.
The tension in the room immediately dissipated as the teacher stepped in front of the desk and leant his back against it. He flashed a warm smile.
"Hello everybody, my name is Mr. Mark Fischbach. I know that's kind of a mouthful, so you can call me Mr. F if you'd like." He shrugged. "I am going to be your English teacher this fine year. He clasped his hands together, beginning to pace along the front row. "Now I know it'll take some time to get used to the sudden change, I know you all have gotten used to Mr. Barnett over the course of time you've been here. But just know, that there's no need to be afraid of me. I'm only, like, slightly older than you all." He gestured out to the class, still pacing and observing everyone's faces. "But still, treat me with respect because I'm your teacher and all that jazz," He said with a goofy tone, rolling his eyes.
Some students smiled and laughed, warming up to this new face.
He laughed a little. "So, since I'm painfully new, I really would like to get to know you guys!" He finally got to your seat, the last one in the front row. "Starting with this lovely looking young lady." He gave a smile, looking down at you, gesturing for you to stand. You internally gasped at the way he said his last sentence, the tambour of his voice making you shudder with pure bliss. You'd always been a sucker for deep voices.
You nervously stand, looking uneasily at the teacher. He stared right back at you, hands tucked into his pockets. He made a gesture for you to go on.
"Oh.. Uh.. My name is Y/N."
"Please tell me something about yourself, Y/N."
You temporarily pause, trying to think of something interesting. You could feel a twinge of a panic attack trying to spark in your mind, and you try to tamp it out. You speak timidly.
"I really like music,"
"Do you? So do I. Do you play an instrument?" He asked in return.
"Yeah.. Many, actually." You sheepishly return, rubbing at your arm.
"Nice. I like that." He smiles, looking you in the eyes. "Thank you for sharing." He nods, watching as you sit down.
He moves along. "You!" He points to the person above you. "Tell me your name and something about yourself."