#Retracting pencil

[virtua]

after years of using 3$ eyeliner ive discovered the loving warmth of 5$ eyeliner

[heathermason]

some eyeliner i bought like last month at the pharmacy broke and i dont know how it happened like this but it broke. tragedy in my stupid gay life

[mangomaking]

I colored over this sketch lol

[axonspro]

How to Get Perfectly Defined Lips and Discover the Different Types of Lip Line

How to Get Perfectly Defined Lips and Discover the Different Types of Lip Liner Discover the secrets to achieving perfectly defined lips with our expert guide. Learn about the different types of lip liners and how to use them to create the perfect pout. Get ready to pucker up and show off your gorgeous lips with confidence! Lip liner is an essential cosmetic product that can enhance the…

[moonlightsolo]

can you write neteyam and human reader you’re exploring in the forest and ends up losing you and when he finds you after searching for a long time you’re actually having so much fun gathering things and running around and it’s all cute and protective! ^.^

i looove nete n human reader it’s my weakness … i hope u like this!!!

“nete! c’mon!” you call out to your boyfriend as you run amongst the trees. you giggle as you leap over a fallen log in one fluid motion, somehow landing on your feet over the other side.

“hey!” your boyfriends accented voice cackles from behind you, but your feet refuse to relent. obviously, if he really wanted to catch up to you, he would. his long legs give him the advantage. your head dodges branches, and vines, and your legs hop over rocks as you sprint through the foliage.

something bright catches your eyes next to your swift feet, stopping you in your tracks. you’re finally able to take a deep breath as you slowly backtrack. right at the base of a tree trunk, three bright pink flowers sit buried in the dirt, rustling slightly in the wind.

a fwäkìwll; a mantis orchid.

the huffing and puffing boy catches up to you, his usual unruly braids are secured behind his head. with two that must’ve escaped that frame his face perfectly, “you’re nuts, you know that?” he laughs breathlessly.

“look!” you bend down to examine the flora, admiring the softness of the petals, “oh my, it’s so beautiful.”

neteyam can’t help but giggle at how you gawk over a simple little plant. something he’ll never understand, but he will always appreciate your fascination.

your hands reach into the small bag slung across your body to pull out a notebook, flipping to an empty page to sketch a rough draft of the flowers.

his large four-fingered hand rests on the top of your head to softly rustle your hair, pressing his fingers into your skin to slightly massage your scalp. your head angles up to look at him, smiling wide at your boy before stuffing your head back into your book.

your pencil scratches satisfyingly against the lined paper; instinctively bringing your lip between your teeth as you focus.

“i’ll be right back, okay? stay here, my love.” neteyam pats your head as you nod, but truly his words went in one ear and out the other. it was something about him leaving, but your attention is taken up by the flower.

once you have a few key points labeled on your little picture, you finally close the book. your eyes dart around to seek out the blue skin of your na’vi boyfriend, but something else catches your eye.

behind a wide tree trunk in the distance, you see the edge of a plant. the loreyu; also known as the helicoradian!! you excitedly spring to your feet, and creep toward the giant plant. ducking under thick vines and swatting at buzzing bugs.

on the way there, you stumble upon a small stream that has glittering rocks and gems under the water. obviously, you can’t help but snag a few and store them in your bag— but you can’t let yourself get too off track, so you continue forward.

the salmon-colored spiraled plant is almost twenty feet high, which is ginormous compared to your tiny human body. as you grow closer, you realize the one loreyu is surrounded by clusters of smaller and even bigger ones.

“oh my god.” you breathe out in shock as you carefully weave between the helicoradia; already having the knowledge that if they’re merely brushed against, they’ll retract into the ground.

you mindfully sink to your knees, folding your legs underneath your body as you lean back on your heels. you unlatch the notebook from being pressed against your chest, flipping through the used pages to find the one you’re looking for.

you’ve already observed this plant elsewhere in the forest, so theres a few notes and drawings written down already. you decide to perfect the previous drawing you have in the middle of your page, even sketching a close-up of the edge of the leaf.

you tuck your pencil into the crease of the book before closing it and sliding it back into the safety of your bag. you glance up into the sky, but you can barely make out the blue color from the plants that tower over you.

it’s so serene and peaceful; you’re hidden amongst these intimidating plants that are five times the size of you. it seems like nothing could ever hurt you, as if you’re shielded from the unforgiving environment of pandora.

you carefully lay down against the grassy soil. once your back hits the warm ground, you suck in a deep breath— mentally wishing you could breathe their air to be able to smell the fresh dirt.

although the oxygen mask is your key to survive, it’s also so suffocating. one of the biggest problems it gives you is that you’re unable to kiss neteyam whenever you want. only able to get inside the privacy of your room in the scientists shack, but even he needs his own mask.

wait, neteyam. where is neteyam?!

you abruptly sit up in your spot, suddenly feeling as if you’re claustrophobic from the menancing plants that surround you in every which way. oh god, you’re gonna throw up. your feet scramble to stand as you panic, causing your shoulder to brush against the tendrils of the plant.

with a pop, it sucks itself into the ground. the movement creates a chain reaction that triggers the entire field to recoil into the dirt. you watch as each plant disappears, waiting until the area clears entirely. everything around you looks the same, and absolutely nothing looks familiar.

something firm grasps your upper body from behind, strongly spinning you around to face them.

your frozen expression is met with wide, worried eyes that belong to neteyam, “what are you doing?!? where were you?” he lectures as arms tug you tightly into his chest. he briefly embraces you before pulling away just as fast to stare back down at you.

“i told you to stay where you were! why did you walk away?” his voice cracks from his raw emotion, his honey-colored eyes dart frantically over your face.

“i’m—i’m sorry, i- i didn’t realize i walked so far away… i was just taking notes and… drawing.” your voice stumbles over itself.

his shoulders drop slightly from your anxious voice, his eyes watch how your quickened breath slightly fogs the glass of your mask.

coldness washes over his body when he realizes just how harsh he sounds and the points of his ears droop from his realization, “you scared me. i thought i lost you.” his sharp voice has softened and his tight grip loosens on your shoulders.

you take a step forward to stand in between his feet to wrap yourself around his body, smooshing yourself into the warm skin just above his navel. “i’m sorry i won’t do it again.” you whimper out, your apology slightly muffled.

his hand soothingly cradles the back of your head as he holds you against him, “don’t be sorry.” he tsks, “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have left you.”

your head angles up to gaze at him, giving him a soft downturned smile, “well, i should’ve listened to what you were saying.”

“s’okay. you’re with me now, that’s all that matters.” his fingers toy with the elastic band of your oxygen mask, itching to rip it off and kiss you; but he knows that he can’t.

“oh! i uh- i found some crystals! i think you can use them for your clothing and your hair beads, ‘n stuff.. do you wanna see?” your hand wiggles your bag persuadingly with an excited grin.

neteyam stares down at you in awe and nods his head, “‘course i wanna see, ma yawntu. show me.” he nudges his nose in the air for you to continue.

your hands rummage through the weaved sack on your hip, pushing past your notebook to the little bag at the bottom filled with the rocks. you pluck it out to dump the contents into your palm, admiring how the multi-colored crystals sparkle under the sunlight.

“those are perfect. i must make you some jewelry out of them.” his eyes brighten from the idea, “what would you like? a necklace or somethin’ else?” one of his fingertips roll the rocks in your palm to examine them, careful not to push them off into the grass.

“really? you‘re gonna make me something?” your voice sounds surprised, which is shocking to him. of course, he is going to make you something; you’re his mate, his muntxate.

when he first courted you, he gifted you a handmade bracelet — which you’re currently still wearing and have no plans to take it off, and the weaved bag that never leaves your side.

“yes, for you, silly. who else would i make jewelry for?” neteyam rolls his eyes at you playfully, a sneaky smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips.

your eyes flit over his face, still surprised, even after all this time, that you’ve bagged yourself a tall, gorgeous, blue alien. something comes over your body, a sudden rush of adrenaline as you suck in a deep breath of your oxygen to hold your breath.

confusion twists over neteyams features as your hand grips the lower part of your mask to push it over the top of your head, “what are you-?” his question is cut off by your hands reaching up to grip the edge of his waist adornment to tug him down to you.

he happily obliges with a pearly grin, ducking his head down to your height to urgently pull you into a kiss. you smile when his lips move against yours and his hand presses into the small of your back to lean your body slightly backwards.

even though kissing him is a rare occasion in itself, it still feels like the first time— every. single. time.

his tail curls around his back to wrap around your upper thigh to hold your body in place, as if his hands aren’t strong enough to do so by themselves.

neteyam reluctantly pulls back, staring down to admire your beauty without something separating him from you. his hand sits heavy on your neck with his fingers curled up under your jaw. his thumb swipes down the bridge of your nose, and over your plump lips before pulling the mask back over your face.

your human features are so soft, and delicate; he can’t help but touch you without your mask whenever he gets the chance.

once the mask is firmly fitted over your face you suck in, a definitely needed, sharp breath. your chest expands as your lungs inhale the air, giving neteyam a small sad smile. “i love you.” you whisper once you’re finally able to talk.

neteyam’s face lights up from those three words, his lanky arms wrap around your tiny frame to lift you into the air to his height. it’s nothing new to express your love to each other, but whenever he hears those words it feels surreal to him.

the sudden change in height makes you squeal, and wrap your arms around his neck for support, “i love you.” he replies and presses his forehead to the glass, which you instantly lean forward into.

“let’s head back to camp. we can get some food, and just hide in your room and do nothing for the rest of the day?” he offers as he lowers you back down to the ground.

when your feet hit the softness of the grass, your hand reaches out to grab his. neteyam’s fingers practically engulf yours, so you decide to hold onto him the best you can.

“sounds like the best idea you’ve had all day.” your voice hums with a content grin.

neteyam gives you a little nod, before looking around to see which way he should go. he begins to walk to lead you back to his ikran, mindful to go slow since his legs are much longer than yours.

but not without his tail wrapping protectively around your leg. this time, he’ll make sure you won’t stray away from his side, not even a little bit...

-

stop this is so cute i’m in love w this 😭

[fhrlclln]

miguel o’hara x assistant!fem! reader pt. 2

hi!! UR GIRLY JUST TOOK THE UPCAT (ISKOLAR NG BAYAN WISHING 🤞🏻✅) anyways here’s part 2 cuz i desperately needed to cool off after taking that very hard exam but anyways.

here’s part 1 of this lil dirty fic!!

nsfw under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

miguel wouldn’t admit it but… it was kinda pathetic on his part he had to go so far to poke you around until you two exploded with each other. not that it wasn’t his thing for snapping at people but he did sometimes take a lot of that behavior of his on you. but he couldn’t help it, you know? do you even know how fucking hard he was controlling himself back the moment you signed up for him? how eager you were to work beside him when the spider-society was created? did you even know the nights he spends jacking off when you came around wearing that same black pencil skirt you were wearing that hugged your ass so perfectly? how the way you practically challenged him on arguments and so? how that look on your face when he towers over you made his dick go hard?

no.

so yeah, your his fault really.

“fuck…” he groans out as you gripped his hair tight between your fingers. nails scratching his scalp as you bucked your hips against his mouth, cunt rubbing on his face as he slurps, taking every juice your sweet pussy leaks out for him. only for him.

“so sweet, cariño. ‘s practically happy to see me.” he sighs out between his kisses and slurps, drowning in, giving you every bit of pleasure like he feels when you tell him or practically whine for him to give you more. he’ll give you everything really.

“miguel. please. need you more.” you huff out, it’s been a good handful of minutes since he started devouring your cunt like a starved man. man practically ripped your underwear with his fangs and hands as he threw it somewhere across the room. but you wanted him so much more, practically missed the way he was towering over you a while ago.

“what’d i say, huh?” he breaks away from your cunt, lips messy and wet as you stared down at him with teary and lustful eyes. “i’m being nice.” he kisses your thigh again, nipping it lightly as he finally stands up. your eyes shoot down to see the evident bulge on his spider suit but you knew that wasn’t the entirety of it knowing that damn suit is so damn tight on his body. not that you didn’t like the

“it’ll be even nicer if you get in me.” you cooed, a little breathless as you opened your legs wider. he lets out a little laugh as he ducks down to kiss you. you sigh happily between his lips, getting to grip his shoulders as he starts removing the buttons on your blouse.

“mhm. can’t even wait for it, huh? that desperate for cock, amor?” he grins between your lips as impatience took over him when he saw your pretty little bra concealing your breasts, he had to cut it off as purposely retract out those claws he’s hiding making you squeal at the sudden movement. the sharp snap of your bra shredded.

“miguel!“

“shut it.” he says, tossing the ruined lacy bra over his shoulder as you pouted, wriggling out of your blouse as he bends down to capture your nipple between his teeth, careful to be gentle knowing his fangs. you sigh out, caressing his tousled hair as miguel turned his attention to the other one while his hand reached to cup his crotch, groaning as he relieved the pressure a bit in the area.

“mierda. open those legs wide again, cariño.” he commands, tapping your thighs. “hurry up.”

impatient fucker. you roll your eyes, even in sex he was still taking the leadership role. “if you weren’t so keen shredding my bra off, we would be doing so much-“

“that mouth ain’t gonna shut up, huh?” he tsks as he grips your hips tight, pulling to him for your crotch to be flushed against his making you shut up.

“‘s rude interrupting me every damn sentence, you know.” you grumbled grinding down, gasping a bit when the warmth of his cock was replaced, expecting his tight suit you were gonna be grinding on. you look down, seeing the suit opened in that area, you look puzzled, knowing how advanced his suit is but you didn’t expect this? you thought the feature was mainly for his upper body, seeing countless times he was injecting himself with that drug he uses. rapture?

“that’s cool.” you tilt your head to the side, grinning seeing how flushed red his cock was. the tip angry and swelling with precum.

“and it’s rude to stare, sweetie.” he retorts from your previous complaint. he grips himself as you place kisses on his neck up to his lips, hugging him close as your feet wrapped around his tiny waist, the tip of his cock nudging between your folds. he sighs out, pushing in as he rests his forehead against yours. breaths mingled, heat tingling, the way your walls welcomed him with that searing wet warmth he dreamed of every night. fuck, he was in heaven. you gripped his shoulders hard, clawing on his muscles, he was big, too big and girthy but you couldn’t stop now.

“‘s so big, miguel.” you whined, naked breasts squishing on his hard chest, nipples hard as ever as you stared at his red beady eyes. “so big…”

“yeah, i know, but you can take it, can you? i know this sweet pussy can take it.” he whispers, kissing you softly. “be a good girl and take my cock.”

“mhmm…” you moaned as he slowly but surely pushed in further, gripping your ass tight as he slapped them both making you whine.

“so good, so fucking tight and wet. ‘s dripping.” he chuckles as you groan out when he bottoms in, crotch flushed against each other, your clit close to his abdomen.

“oh, god…” you tap his shoulders, wanting him to move but he knew you had to adjust first to his length, he didn’t wanna hurt you in anyway.

“be patient.” he whispers harshly, slapping your ass again, making you buck your hips.

“i am!”

“doesn’t look like it, amor.” your heart flutters again at the endearment. miguel smirks as he gives in, liking the way you get all so shy all of the sudden. he thrusts experimentally, feeling your walls slightly unclamp around his cock which makes him groan out when you clamp around him again. you stare down to where his cock is finally moving, it’s all a stupor now in your mushed brain as miguel grinned from above when he stills for a moment, half of his cock out, leaving you writhing for the fullness you crave.

he slams back in almost immediately, you yelp gripping tightly on his big biceps as he starts thrusting, pounding into you relentlessly now. miguel groans as he watches you helplessly gripping on him, he knew you’d tire out as he watches you with smug-ass grin when you lean backward, elbows resting on the desk, head tilting back as you closed your eyes, a chorus of moans and whimpers coming out of your lips as he fucks you good.

“good girl.” he praises as claws on your waist, biting his lip hearing those wet squelches emit inside of his lab along with your breathless voice begging him for more, to go harder. he, of course, listens as he adjusts you to tower over your leaned frame. kissing you with much tongue and teeth. his hearts pounding uncontrollably when you spit out how good he is and when you finally open your eyes and grin at him when you catch him staring at you in daze and quiet admiration.

shit. he’s got it bad.

he groans when he notices you getting a little pitchier in your moans, your legs around his waist constricted and your walls clamped around his cock tight, signaling you’re almost there. he smirks, one hand reaching down to rub that clit a few times, still pounding hard until you finally shoot up and squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck, bucking up ferociously as his cock still drove into you.

“close. ‘m close.” he pants, groaning out as you watch him in awe when fastens his pace, slamming in hard as he cums inside you. you smiled, feeling the warmth shoot inside you as miguel panted and slumped down a bit in front of you with his one hand keeping him leverage from crushing you and ruining the desk with both of your weights. a moment of silence transpires as you caress the back of his neck, kissing him lightly of whatever skin you come in contact with as miguel panted next to your ear.

“that was not supposed to happen.” he says, a little stupefied as you chuckled, rolling your eyes as you cup his cheeks for him to look at you. seeing those red eyes dilate, practically teary and puppy eyed when you peck his lips. he pulls out slowly, you two hissing together at the loss of contact as the cool air of the lab regulated your sweaty bodies.

“maybe it did have to.” you only say, a much more deeper meaning behind it as miguel went quiet, the expression on his face clear as ever, he was thinking about it. you smiled, pulling him down for a kiss in which he happily obliges.

“mierda, woman. you still not tired?” he asks between kisses in which you giggled, shaking your head causing him to growl as you widened your eyes.

“let me rest first, o’hara!”

“you started it-“

“i did not!”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

EYY PART TWO FINISHED AND LEFT IT ON A HAPPY NOTE <3 MORE MIGUEL FICS TO COME GUYS IM NOT DONE 😈

[oatsmeall]

You and I?

Socially awkward!Jk! X f!reader | college AU

Warnings: Socially awkward jk, very awkward jk, suggestive themes, possible smut.

(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+(人*´∀｀)

For as long as you've been coming to this course you've always seen this quiet guy, he always come in 5 minutes exactly before class starts, he brings the same black metal water bottle with one singular sticker, and he's always quiet but always raises his hand to answer questions. You didn't really pay much attention to him untill today specifically though, of course you noticed his usual quirks but today? Man, it's like he became a new man. You never thought the awkward nerdy guy would pull up to class late with new piercings. On his eyebrow and his lip. You were stunned to say the least, he's... Hot? This totally normal thing called being 'tardy' suddenly seamed like a sense of rebellion, especially for this guy, Jeon Jungkook. Wow, such a bad boy.

Throughout the week he'd show up less covered, usually he'd wear sweater vests with a neatly tucked shirt and black or brown slacks or occasionally jeans. Now he's been wearing oversized shirts and baggy sweats and jeans. And not to mention his entirely detailed sleeve on his arm, which has very much been in the works for quite the while you bet. Where was the cute nerdy boy you knew? This was a whole new man. Even the girls that never bat an eye started noticing. You weren't going to lie and say you weren't a little jealous. I mean come on? These girls were ignoring him just 2 weeks ago, now they're fawning over him and his new look.....

"STUDENT SETTLE DOWN PLEASE. today we'll be writing an essay about what we've learned this month. Please be sure to turn the essay in by Friday night." The professor was making y'all write an essay. This is so boring, you were just thinking about that comfortable bed of yours.

While digging in your backpack for your laptop and some paper, you couldn't find any sort of writing utensils. This was so annoying, how is it that Suddenly when you ACTUALLY need a pen or pencil you couldn't find one. Jesus Christ, what a unlucky way to start on homework.

"pssst, hey.. hey, ppsssst" you were trying to whisper call on Jungkook, he was not budging. "Jeon, hey" you were not getting anywhere. Suddenly he side eye looked at you. Okay?...

"what do you want, were supposed to get busy." He said monotoned, he really is still nerdy sounding.

"well I won't get anywhere near busy if you'd just hear me out for a bit. Do you have a pen or pencil I can borrow, please?" You're regretting asking. He's probably gonna decline and say 'you should've brought your own".

"hmm.. I do, but you have to give it back, I always keep 4 pencils exactly." Close to the response you thought.. kinda.

"ugh okay, thanks" ou! Fancy mechanical pencil! And it had a cool retractable eraser!

This essay was gonna kill you. come to think of it what did you even learn this month?....

You and Jungkook had became friends, this past month you slowly would talk to him or try to talk big conversations, you really found him interesting. He was like a new subject you were trying to learn about. You've learned he's quite....odd? He didn't get your jokes sometimes, he was unaware of social cues at times, and he was too straight up. You thought he didn't like you, he was so blunt. on a random day when you guys went to the library he commented on how messy your notes were, how your hair was messy and looked unprofessional for school, and even on how wearing Birkenstocks with socks was strange. He was nitpicking random things, things you wouldn't even pay attention to. This gave you a feeling of self awareness, you felt like he didn't like you, he was making you realize a lot of things you hadn't.

"Jungkook, I really like you but you've got to stop nitpicking things I don't even notice, I'm sure you can keep it to yourself? You don't hear me saying how the way you styled your hair today looks off from yesterday, or how you're wearing two different shades of black and I don't like that."

"why wouldn't you like it? I like it." He said confused and somewhat agitated.

You gave him a knowing look of "do you see now?"

He sat silently before asking

"do you really not like my two different shades of black?" There was a pause before you started giggling. He looked so confused, you couldn't help but giggle.

"alright. Wanna come by my dorm tonight? Study a little and maybe order takeout and watch a movie? Shrek perhaps?" You tried changing the conversation hoping he'd forget the little conflict.

This would be the first time you invite him to your dorm, you were too shy to ask, he was also shy though, more than you probably. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"uhm..sure.. just send me you dorm number." He seemed shy just asking that, you were excited though. He was such a cute and smart guy, he was very helpful when studying. He taught you new things too, the other day he taught you about why pigeons don't know how to build nests.

Around 6:30 he texted you saying he's on his way to your dorm. You were SO nervous for no reason, you tried to tidy up around your room, and by tidy you mean deep cleaned. You've never seen such a clean room, you loved it though.

*Knock, knock, knock*

"Comiingggg" you walked to your door and opened it to Jungkook. In a black tee shirt and grey sweat pants.. you felt your hear beat faster. He looked so.. FINE.

"Hello Y/n, I didn't know what kind of drink you liked so I bought Gatorade, orange juice, and water. I hope you like.. these." He looked so genuine, you appreciate him for trying.

"oh wow! I like all. I wouldn't have minded your pick. Thanks though, come in. Make yourself comfortable." He came in and sat himself on your bed, he was looking around curiously. He was looking attentively, like he was gather information.

"sorry if you might not like the scent in my room, Im trying this mango air freshener out-"

"I like it. It's okay. So where are your notes and stuff, we can get started right now if you'd like, that way we can have more time to hangout..if you want."

This genuinely surprised you? He wanted to spend time with you? Your heart had a sudden rush.

"oh? O-okay, yeah. Uhm let me get my laptop." You hurriedly grabbed your bag, you bent down you're oblivious but your ass caught Jungkook's attention by accident. He stared.. he felt his blood rush down his pants.

"okay I've got my laptop!" You walked to your bed and plopped next to him.

His face was red. Visibly red actually.

"you okay?"

"y-yeah.." he looked away from you in embarrassment. Immediately onto his notes.

After a long hour and a half, you guys were done, you decided to order for delivery instead, Jungkook didn't want to go out anymore, you were tidying around your room, who new studying was messy.

"can't wait for that pasta, I'm hungry. Also hot, this hoodie is too warm" Jungkook look slightly, seeing you take your hoodie off made HIM hot.. his body tensed up. Your black halter top made your boobs look so good, he caught a glimpse of them before you turned to him.

"freeeee!" you said in a giggle.

He was respectful, of course.. but he still IS a man.... with male... tendencies.

"can I use your restroom, please? I need to wash my hands"

"why the restroom? I've got a small sink by the dresser." You pointed to the hidden sink.

"I have to use the restroom too." He said straight faced. He was trying to get away from you as fast as possible or else his print would be visible VERY quickly, maybe he shouldn't have worn grey sweats. Maybe two different shades of black wasn't bad after all like you said.

"okay, yea. It's that door right there." You're not sure why but you have a feeling you made Jungkook uncomfortable, what could you have possibly done.

*knock, knock, knock*

"ouuu pasta must be here. JUNGKOOK! PASTAS' HERE!" you got out of your bed and quickly answered the door. You're excited.

After some very awkward moments of eating and small talk you put on Shrek the movie, you guys were on your bed now. But you felt a sudden rush, you've been avoiding thinking about him but he's so fine. He's hot in this little ensemble he put together, the grey sweats made his print noticable. Your mouth felt dry all of the sudden. You felt and decided to lay down and drape your legs on his thighs. You felt his body tense up. This made you feel butterflies. It's almost like you had an ad advantage.

"uhm.. Y/n.. I- " you cut him off and looked up at him directly into his eyes. Oh those siren eyes of yours.. they're killing him. His eyes began to widen when he realized that you're now turned around facing his lap. More so his crotch.

"Kook.." you start innocently. "Have you ever been... Touched?" You said softly and quietly. You scared him. He can't comprehend how you'd gone from fun from "fun and nice, sweet and understandable" to "horny seduction demon" he's also never had physical Intimacy, only cute kisses and hugs. This was odd, he liked how he felt though. You gave him butterflies.

"N-no" you looked at him straight in his eyes again. This time you say up slightly and palmed his dick through his sweats. He let out an lewd quiet moan. Your pussy was pulsating from excitement.

"mm poor boy. Do you like when I touch you like this?" You say quietly. You began stroking the outline of his dick, then you pulled his sweats down following after, his boxers. His hard Dick sprung up. You were in awe at the largeness before your eyes. You didn't know what you expected.. but surely not this monster. The sayings are true. It's always the quiet and shy ones.

"auh.. fuck" he whispered lewdly. What a turn on.

"mhm? You like that kookie?"

Precum began to slowly ooze from out the tip. Red and sore from the friction being created from your hands. You started pacing faster, stokes becoming gradually faster.

"augh, f-fuck. I don't wanna c-"

You sunk you whole mouth on his cock. Filling your mouth with only half of his cock. You started deep thoating, harder and faster, the lewd noises becoming louder and messier. Chocking on his dick you took him like a champ.

"I'm not done with you babe." You say with saliva and cum dripping from your mouth. You're Cock drunk.

"Y-you're not?!" He seemed genuinely shocked.

You got up and sat on his lap, legs sitting on either side of his thighs. Your booty shorts rode more up your thighs.

You began to ride him. Fully clothed, you began riding, Jungkook instinctively grabbed your ass and pressed you down to create harder friction.

"mm- F-fuck. Oh my, Jungkook augh- you moaned loudly, your pussy was so wet and it was throbbing. Suddenly. Jungkook's switched. He became the lewd one. You never expected to hear something like this come out of his mouth..

"Yeah? You like that you fucking slut? You like seducing quite guys?" He said through his teeth in a hiss. Gripping your ass. Your so turned on at his sudden switch.

"mhm baby" you mewed.

"take the shorts off. Now" yes sir. Anything for Me. Jeon.

You got up off him and you did a little strip tease. It was better that what Jungkook visioned.

You slowly hopped back on him and you grabbed his cock and slowly sat on him. Man was he stretching you out. Nice and good.

"augh fuck Kook. You're so big" you said in a gasp. He just looked at you with a smirk. Man you loved every minute of this.

"that's right baby take me like a fucking champ" you sat on him completely but suddenly.. when you began riding, his speed increased, he began slamming into you.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, augh babe, you're hitting the spot" your moans were something straight out of a porn video.

"yeah? You like that? Look at me when I fuck you Y/n look at me." He said grabbing your face. Who is this man?! This isn't shy little Jungkook with the cute boba eyes?! This was Jeon Jungkook. The fucking man.

After what felt forever, you and Jungkook did some after care. He went and fetched you an after pill at the nearest pharmacy. Yes at 1 am.

You were beat. Inside and out. Literally. You felt numb, could hardly walk. Your pussy was sore. You can't count how many times he made you cum and squirt but he really overstimulated you. You're so ready for a part 2 of this.

The next day you went to class and sat with Jungkook. Suddenly he became shy again?! Two faced much?

Guys... Let me know if you want a part 2 lol, this is my first time writing a fanfic lol🥹

[nburkhardt]

Steve’s actual favorite pastime is coloring.

Buys any sort of coloring book and sits at his desk with crayons or coloring pencils. Sometimes even paint.

Before everything it was to ease stress from the pedestal people keep him on. It was for those weird feeling he gets over phone calls with his parents.

After everything it was to escape his mind, to ease his heart from beating too much. It was there to remind himself of the beauty in life. To see simple things, to try and erase all the ugly memories.

He keeps it to himself, loves that it’s his thing and the peace he gets from it is so calming.

But the only person to find out about this is Robin. She couldn’t sleep after Starcourt and had to be near him, just to make sure he’s still there, that the Russians didn’t take him away. So, she breaks in and finds him sitting in his bedroom at the desk with his stack of coloring books, his pencils and crayons around him.

She watched his face go through all the emotions and before he can even open his mouth, she just asks “Anything with animals? Do you have pastels?”

For a few short seconds, she thought he’d deny it and figure out something to get her to forget. But instead of that he grabs a book, pushes things around and gave a hesitant smile at her.

From then on, Steve’s quiet time is Steve and Robin’s quiet time.

They buy each other books, finds new coloring supplies, argue over which page is better.

They spill secrets on dirty bathroom floors, laugh with tears streaming down their cheeks but during this? They’re listening to music on low, trade stories in hushed tones, humming along as they color in books.

It’s theirs and it’s Steve favorite thing.

~~

Oh this got a little longer then I thought. It was just a silly thing that took a tiny turn. (Still v short I know)

A tag list under the cut 🫡

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz

Oh and btw, i’m a little high and currently coloring and this popped up in my head. Also also I got SCENTED MARKERS today and and RETRACTEABLE ONES!!! I’m v excited ☺️

[rainforest-daisies]

Day 4|Cockwarming

Character: Spencer Reid x AFAB!reader

TW: cockwarming, reader wearing a dress, kinda mean Spencer.

A/n: i honestly kinda rushed this last night, so i hope it isn’t too bad😀

Kinktober masterlist

You had been sat atop Spencer’s lap for over an hour now, his promise of being done with his paperwork in less than, had officially been broken. Your patience was running thin, and the squirms of your body were getting more significant by the minute. Your legs had been straddling his thigh, knee pressing directly onto your core.

His hand landed on your hip in a swift movement, pausing your movements against his knee, “stop moving. I can't write when you're writhing like that.” His voice had a stern tone integrated into his gentle whisper. His hand had rested there for a moment longer, before receding back to his papers with soon regret, as your hips unconsciously began writhing again.

His pencil slammed down onto his case folder, closing it quickly and positioning his hands against his desk chair, ghosting against your silhouette. His white button-up sleeves were rolled to his forearm, muscles flexing by gripping the armrest, making you shudder as the veins in his hand bulged.

“You wanted my attention? You’ve got it now.” His face is unemotive, never been more serious, the sarcasm flowing from his mouth proving his frustration. “Get up.” The chair rolled away from his desk, prompting you to stand as he demanded. His hand lifted the soft dress adorning your figure, spotting the diminutive wet stain on your panties.

“Sweetheart, I have to finish this.” He gently scolded, voice softening when he saw the innocent, pleading look in your eyes. “We can’t, Not right now.”

“What if…what if we didn’t do anything, I just..sat on you.” You were sure he failed to hear your mumbles, yet he contradicted your theory as his legs heeded to a spread state again, inviting you to rest against him. Your fingertips reached for the clasps of his pants, but you hesitatively stopped, retracting quickly. “Can I warm your cock?” Your voice was still hushed, and you were on a mission to make up the squirming to him.

As soon as his almost fully hardened cock was out of its confinements, you were on top of him again, moving your panties out of the way. You had begun to sink onto him, gently grinding once he was fully inside of you, before he stopped the movements, holding your chin in his hand, “Stay still. This work has a deadline, y’know.”

You eagerly nodded, resting against his shoulder as he was buried deep inside you. You heard him hum before the chair rolled close to the desk, and the scratching of pen on paper resumed.

“I told you to stop moving, honey.”

[strawbxrryneptune]

College BKG <3 (enemies to lovers ish)

unedited, lowkey rushed at the end cause im exhausted but at least i posted something after like a year teehee

@miggiisdumb

You walk into the lecture hall a couple minutes early, dragging your sleep deprived friend along with you.

“I genuinely don't understand why we have to get to class so early. The professor isn't even here yet."

You huff at her complaint, pulling her towards the front where you always sit.

"I just want to keep my seat.”

Before she can reply, you cut her off.

“Yes, I know, I’ve been sitting in the same place the whole semester and no one’s taken my seat, but there’s still the risk. Remember when Bakugou fucking took it last week and wouldn’t stop being smug about it?”

Slipping into the second row, she sits on your left, sighing heavily.

"Honestly, the little petty battle you have with him is getting old babe, just fuck him at this point."

You laugh, resting your head in your hands as you stare at your friend.

"Excuse me?"

She scoffs in your face, obviously too tired for your conversation.

"Listen, we all grew up together, anyone who went to UA can agree that you both have hard ons for each other, but you’re too busy arguing to see it.”

You sigh dramatically, flopping back in your seat.

 “He’s an asshole-”

"An asshole you wanna fuck.”

You swipe at her, and she laughs before pushing at your arm.

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want to fuck him.”

“...Okay, he’s kind of hot-”

“So fuck-”

“-no, he’s so annoying!”

She gives you a look then sighs,

“Yes, yes he is.”

You both laugh, your mind wandering elsewhere for a bit before she taps your arm and nods her head behind you, wiggling her eyebrows. You hum, turning to see none other than Bakugo Katsuki himself. He’s walking towards your aisle, plopping down into a seat behind you and putting his bag down next to him. He’s wearing a black sweater draped over black pants, hair fluffy but still somehow spiky looking, and a smoky, almost woodsy scent wafting from him.

Bakugou meets your eyes, and the intensity in his gaze makes your stomach twist. He raises an eyebrow at you, lips curving up to conceal a smirk. You roll your eyes and turn back around, annoyed that he caught you staring. Your friend holds back a laugh next to you and you pointedly ignore her, willing the professor to start the lecture already. 

Before you can get fully lost in thought, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn your head and almost hit your forehead against Bakugou’s. 

“Jesus, have you ever heard of personal space?”

He ignores your question and squints at the small table in front of you.

“You got an extra pencil?”

You stare at him, then look around to the other people in his row.

“Why are you asking me? There's like 5 other people in your sectio-”

“Do you have another fuckin’ pencil or not, Brat?”

You huff and shake your head no. You definitely have another pencil, but you're not giving it to his rude ass. He slides his eyes from your face to the bright pink pencil case on your table, full to the brim with pencils and highlighters. 

“Alright.”

You give him another roll of your eyes and go to turn around, but he stops you by leaning over your shoulder and snatching the pencil you were currently using off of your table, retracting back and sitting in his seat. You're pissed, but you can't even bring yourself to turn around because holy shit were his arms always that muscular? And did they always have those veins running through them all the way to his big hands? And fuck when he bent over you his gold chain came out of his shirt a little and it made you think how it would look dangling over you while he fucked the breath out of you. You take a quick breath and dig through your pencil case, taking a pen out and focusing on the smart board at the front of the class. The professor finally starts talking and you welcome the distraction, taking your notebook out to start taking notes.

Once it hit the end of your class, you closed your notebook and let out a sigh, thankful to be done for the day. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and this time you just give Bakugou a side eye when he slides his face close to yours and plops the pencil back on your desk.

“Thanks.”

“Dunno why you’re acting nice like you didn’t steal from me but you’re welcome.”

His face comes into view, and even though you aren’t looking directly at him, you can see his eyes drilling holes into the side of your face. 

“Don’t give me shit as if you didn’t lie to me.”

You scoff and fully turn, almost nose to nose with him. 

“Why would I want to give you a pencil when you’re such a dick?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and his eyes darken in a way that makes your stomach turn. 

“You wanna repeat that?”

You don't want to repeat it, actually, but you’re not about to back down and pissing him off is too fun, so you get closer.

“I said, why would I want to give you a pencil when you’re. a. dick.”

He gives you a sadistic smile and closes the already small distance between you, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“If you want dick so bad I can give it to you, you don't gotta call me one Sweetheart.”

Your face heats up and your eyes dart around the room, relief flooding your chest when you realize everyone cleared out of the lecture hall except for some girl who was closing her laptop and shoving her things into her bag. 

You turn back to him and step back, grabbing your notebook and pencil case and putting it into your bag.

“Please, I’d get more satisfaction from a metal pipe than your dick. You can’t handle this.”

He grabs your wrist, and when you turn back around he’s in your face again, this time staring at your lips with dark eyes. 

“You wanna bet?”

You look around again, watching that last girl walk out the door. Fuck it, if the dick is bad or you embarass yourself you still have time to drop the class. 

With that in mind, you shake your wrist free from his grip and lean in to kiss him, sighing softly when he kisses back because his lips are so soft. He brings a strong hand to your jaw and tilts your head, kissing you deeper. You make out for a bit before you start to become aware of the awkward position you’re both in, straining to kiss each other over the seats of the hall. He seems to have the same thought, and he brings his hands down to your waist before pausing and pulling away.

“Can I touch you?”

You think it's a bit silly for him to ask you at this point, but you appreciate it nonetheless.

“Yes.”

You say it breathily, and he gives you a crooked smile before grabbing your waist and whispering, “Jump” against your mouth. You do as he says and he effortlessly lifts you up over the seats and into his arms, hands moving to cup your ass. He continues to kiss you and you start to feel yourself getting hot, moving your hips against his stomach to alleviate some of the tension. He squeezes your ass and moves to sit down, placing you on the ground before turning you around and making you sit on his lap with your back to him. He leans forward to kiss your neck while bringing a veiny hand up to lightly choke you, not applying that much pressure but still making your head spin.

“Grind on me.”

“Ask nicely, Bakugou.”

He chuckles and gives you a sharp bite on the side of your neck, making your hips jolt against him.

“There you go, good girl.”

You want to tell him off, but you can feel his dick through his pants and you want to feel more. Biting your lip, you grind against him slowly, picking up the pace gradually and forcing moans out of the both of you. 

“Fuck, Bakugou take your pants off i wanna feel you.”

“Ask nicely, brat.”

You huff and turn to try and undo his pants, but he stops you.

“I said, ask nicely. You're not gettin’ shit actin all prissy.”

“...fine. Please take off your pants so I can sit on your cock, Bakugou.”

He hums and gives you another murmur of “good girl” before tapping your hips to get you up again, shimmying his pants to his knees and taking his dick out. He reaches over and takes your bottoms and panties off, rubbing your hips before reaching around and starting to rub soft circles into your clit, causing you to let out a small moan. He pulls you closer and continues to pleasure you, teasing you and pulling at your clit occasionally while slipping his hand into your shirt and tweaking a nipple. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, and you start to move your hips along with his hand. He groans against you as he feels you getting slick, taking his hand away quickly to slide your wetness along his dick. He uses one hand to pump himself while sliding one, two, three thick fingers into you, curving them and pumping rhythmically. He whispers in your ear about how soft you are, how beautiful and wet and perfect your pussy is, and you just can’t stop gushing on his fingers. You start to feel your orgasm coming up, and you stop his fingers.

”Fuck me, Bakugou, please.”

He moans at the desperate tone of your voice, bringing you further back and sliding his cock along your pussy, rubbing the tip against your clit and making your legs shake. You whine and reach back, wrapping your hand around his and guiding him inside you, gasping at the stretch. He takes it slow, and once you give him a whimper and a nod he starts to thrust into you, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back. He fucks you good, and you start to feel your legs shake and your vision blur as he hits that spot over and over and over again until you feel him consume you and you’re cumming just like that, back arched and eyes shut, moaning loud. He moans along with you, slamming his hips into you through the squeezing of your pussy. He slows down his thrusts to give you time to calm down, and you lean back and moan in his ear, squeezing him some more. He groans and pulls you off of him, cumming onto your ass.

You both take a moment to calm down, getting dressed in slightly awkward silence as you both grab your shit. You check your phone quickly and hold back a laugh when you see a text from your friend telling you she left in hopes of you getting dicked down. Little did she fucking know.

[wndaswife]

teacher's pet

gif is not mine; credit to the creator.

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tags: smut, d/s, cnc mentions, strap-ons, masturbation, dumbification, possessive & jealous behaviour, fingering (r receiving), hair pulling, face slapping, degradation kink, praise kink, breeding kink, mommy kink, mommy!wanda maximoff, dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 13 782

summary: You start a job as a teacher’s assistant under high school teacher Agatha Harkness. All your coworkers take an instant liking to you- everyone but Wanda Maximoff.

“And we come to the end of the tour,” Agatha told you and stopped walking.

You turned to face her and smiled. “Thank you, Agatha. I can’t even begin to express how much this means to me. I’m so excited to work here under you.”

Agatha stepped forward to wrap her arms around you. She was warm and welcoming like that. You liked that about her. You hugged her back and closed your eyes. “Oh, darling. I’m so lucky to have you assigned to assist me,” she admitted, and when she pulled back from the hug, there was a wide smile on her lips. Agatha was so pretty. “The kids are a handful, especially as we begin to near the end of the school year. You’re a godsend.”

Looking down at the ground with a blush and a shy smile, you answered, “Thank you.”

A hand is placed on your upper arm with a squeeze and the two of you continue to head down the hallway. It was early in the morning, a few minutes before school began for the day, and the hallways were nearly empty, so it didn’t take much movement for a woman slipping out of her classroom to catch your eyes. You looked up from your shoes to the woman.

Green eyes looked over the sheets of papers in her hands as she walked down the hallway, heels of her black stilettos clicking. Her eyebrows were furrowed slightly as she looked intensely focused on the content she was reading over. Long, soft-looking dark strawberry blonde hair slipped from behind her ear. Your eyes ran down her body, taking every curve in. She was wearing a sinfully tight black pencil skirt and a wine red blouse. It was a striking contrast against her creamy ivory skin.

You did not know why your heart skipped several beats when Agatha called the woman’s name. A desire to run and hide from the woman’s gaze tightened your chest. You stood by Agatha’s side, hands pressing against the sides of your legs to prevent yourself from fidgeting in front of her. Wanda. That’s what her name was.

“Agatha,” Wanda responded with a polite nod of her head. Her eyes found yours and she stared at you for a moment, her expression still. You could almost swear her gaze flickered down at your lips for a third of a second.

“This is my new assistant, Y/N Y/L/N. She’s going to be working here until the end of the school year,” Agatha introduced you, looking over at you with a proud smile. You wanted to do nothing more than run away at that very moment with the eyes of two women like Wanda and Agatha on no one else but you.

A hand reached out to you. Wanda’s. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she said with an passive smile. You took her hand and shook it, your fingers just barely having enough grip on her hand to ghost her skin.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Wanda,” you responded as simply and professionally as you could. Her grip on your hand was stern but her fingers were soft. You missed her hold when she retracted her hand from you.

“It’s Ms Maximoff,” Wanda corrected promptly. Your blood ran cold. Fuck. Bad first impression.

Agatha cleared her throat. “Ms Maximoff is our foreign language teacher here.” You detected some discomfort in her tone, but you couldn’t be bothered to determine its meaning. Your eyes stole glances of Wanda Maximoff whenever you could under the impression that she didn’t notice every time your eyes flickered over to her face or her hips or the unbuttoned collar of her blouse.

Wiping the palms of your hands against your sides awkwardly, you spoke again, “Sorry. Ms Maximoff,” you corrected yourself. Wanda seemed pleased with your compliance and she nodded. “Um… What languages do you teach?” Your attempt to continue a conversation with her was pathetic, but at least she looked like she was putting together a response. Agatha was barely in your eyeline, but you imagined she looked slightly out of place.

“Anything Slavic,” Wanda replied simply. Her eyes did not leave yours once as she answered you. The brief answers coming from her were directly opposing the undivided attention she gave you as green eyes focused exclusively on you, her body not turning away for a moment either.

It must’ve been a good sign though, wasn’t it? If your impression had been bad enough, you imagined Wanda wouldn’t pay as much attention to you as she was now.

“Oh, wow,” you mused. Wanda must’ve been quite smart, having spent that much time learning that many languages. Your mind wandered to a focused Wanda teaching a different language in her tight pencil skirt, the words rolling off her tongue with a certain rasp and smoothness that was signaturely hers. Her blouse unbuttoned just a tad bit more as she leaned over your desk-

“Do you come from a Slavic-langauge speaking country?” you asked, forcing yourself to be monetarily free from your fantasies in order to look like a functioning human being in front of the prettiest woman alive.

Despite the hesitation that occurred before your second sentence, Wanda looked unphased. Did she notice it at all? She noticed every single quirk of your eyebrows and the upward twitches of the corners of your mouth, every millisecond you took before answering her. “Indeed. I grew up in Moscow,” she responded, her clandestine attentiveness to your behaviour unexpressed.

You could only find yourself nodding in understanding of her response. Your brain was sorted through hastily for a satisfactory response to that, but you found you couldn’t do anything but nod silently.

Speaking up again, Agatha inserted herself into yours and Wanda’s conversation, “We don’t want to keep you, Ms Maximoff. We’ll be off.” She nodded in your direction and you turned to follow behind Agatha. Her sudden stern professionalism towards Wanda went unnoticed by you. You looked over your shoulder to smile at Wanda politely but she was already heading down the hallway.

Later, during lunch in the staff room, you were alone in the empty room after finishing your meal. The day had passed quite quickly, but then, it was only noon. Either way, you imagined it was also partially due to how nice everyone was to you and how much you were enjoying the job. Agatha was entirely too sweet to you, and her students were too.

While heading towards the staff room earlier, Pepper Potts, who taught business and management, spoke with you while she went to print out copies of her worksheet assignment. She was married to Tony Stark, the school’s mechanics teacher. She was wonderfully informative and supportive of your presence at the high school. After the conversation, you found you were eager to meet everyone else.

But Wanda was very different from them. She was withdrawn and elusive, but the depth in her stares while you spoke with her was evident of a rich inner world behind sharp eyes and controlled behaviour. Wanda seemed to like you the least of everyone you worked with, but she intrigued you the most.

The door of the staff room was pushed open and you raised your head from your phone.

Wanda stepped into the staff room, a stack of papers in hand and an empty coffee mug in the other. Her eyes were raking down the content of the papers she was holding. You wondered if she even noticed you were sitting at the table at the side of the room, and with no desire to surprise her, you sunk down in your seat and kept quiet.

Peeking from above the top of your phone, you watched as Wanda set up the Keurig to brew herself a cup of coffee. A desire to see the flavour she chose for her coffee grew within you as you continued to silently watch her.

She spoke suddenly and you jumped in your seat, “You’ve caused quite the stir amongst the staff here.” So, she had known that you were in the room, and she was entirely unconcerned with your presence. Her back was still facing you as she placed her mug under the Keurig’s spout.

You put the realisation behind you to answer her, picking the conversation up from where she had started it. “Really? Why?” you asked, feeling inexplicably proud.

“It’s beyond me.”

And just like that, all the pride deflated from you and you felt dejected.

Wanda stopped the smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips at the thrill that degrading you gave her. But you were a sweet girl, truly. You took her indolence well despite how purposely cold she was being. There was something so alluring about the falling of your shoulders and the responsibility you obviously immediately carried on your back to please her the moment she felt displeased.

“There is one thing you can do for me, Y/N,” she spoke, turning around to look at you. The sight she was greeted with was nothing short of captivating. You were sitting at the furthest seat from the entrance of the staff room, your body shrunken down in your chair, evidence of shy obedience.

“What is it?” you answered, immediately excited to make it up to her. Wanda absolutely adored it.

“The coffee brewer seems to be broken again.”

“I’ll fix it!” you offered quickly and stood up from your chair to walk over to her.

Wanda watched you intently as you headed over to the Keurig behind her. She turned to face you, not wanting to miss a moment. Your tongue peeked out at the corner of your mouth as you began fiddling with the coffee machine, trying to figure out how to fix it. You were so cute and innocent. So good to Wanda despite how indifferent she behaved around you. She watched you the entire time you were fixing the Keurig.

Panic was spread across every one of your nerves, desperate to quickly find an answer to Wanda's issue. If you backed away from the machine without having fixed at least a single part of it, you’d die of embarrassment once you had to sit back down without an answer. A wave of relief washed over you as your eyes trailed up the Keurig's wire. “Oh! It’s not plugged in,” you noted aloud and reached over the counter to plug it in. The wire was inches away from the tips of your fingers.

As if she hadn’t known that, as if she hadn’t been the very one to unplug it to be able to call you over to her, Wanda leaned over the counter instead and plugged the machine into the outlet for you, allowing you to see down her blouse and at her breasts. She was wearing a scarlet red lace bra. You imagined a matching pair of panties and your cheeks immediately turned as red as her lingerie.

“You’re a doll. Thank you,” Wanda said finally, straightening up to walk back around to your side of the counter. She started to brew her coffee again. As she did, you looked away from her, willing yourself to stop blushing and act normal. How long had you been staring? Unbeknownst to you, only Wanda knew. She knew down to the very second how long you had been looking down her blouse, eyes running over the swell of her breasts that were hugged snugly by her bra.

You backed away from Wanda and headed to your seat. You’d have to be back at Agatha’s classroom in a few minutes and needed to start heading there now. There was no further conversation with Wanda as you packed your things back up while she brewed her mug of coffee. What interaction you had with her, if one could even call it that, was when you exited the staff room together.

Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop were passing by the room when you left. They stopped in their tracks at the sight of you and backtracked their steps to face you together.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Kate greeted you with a grin.

“Kate and I are about to go for lunch at the pizza place down the road. Do you wanna join us?” Yelena offered.

You only noticed Wanda was behind you when she abruptly spoke. “Lunch ends in five minutes, girls. I do hope you’ll be back in time for class. Otherwise, I wouldn’t suggest leaving at all,” Wanda told them sternly. Her eyebrows were stitched together. She almost looked angry. You had no idea Wanda was such a strict teacher, but perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised.

Yelena and Kate exchanged a look and you glanced over to Wanda. Her glare was unyielding as she stared the two students down as if she was silently challenging them to argue with her. Her head tipped to the side slightly, menacingly, even, and the two girls finally responded.

“Fine, Ms Maximoff,” Kate huffed out, irritation laced tightly around her response.

“Guess we’ll starve today,” Yelena retorted and the two girls continued heading down the hallway to their classes, but not without Kate flashing you a smile from over her shoulder.

Wanda said nothing more after that, and she passed you without a word after Kate and Yelena turned a corner.

You watched the swaying of Wanda’s hips as she walked ahead of you, then her red lips as they wrapped around the rim of her mug. Forcing yourself to look away, you closed the staff room door and headed down to Agatha’s classroom.

The rest of the day passed as quickly as you imagined it would. Natasha Romanoff, who you learned taught physical education, walked you to your car as the two of you conversed about miscellaneous topics. But mostly about each other.

Natasha was a witty and kindhearted woman. You quite enjoyed talking with her, and by the time you arrived at your car, you wished you had taken more time to walk with her. Against the driver's door of your car, she and you continued your conversation. She had progressively been stepping closer to you as you conversed, and you were glad for the closeness that you were forming between you and your coworkers.

There were only a few cars left around the two of you by the time you and Natasha exchanged numbers, including a red Buick that was parked a few metres behind yours. After giving her phone back from adding your number into her contact list, the Buick’s engine started. It drove past you and Natasha, picking up speed as it pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road as if the driver was in a rage.

“Was that a student here?” you asked Natasha, taking your focus away from the car and back to the redhead in front of you.

Natasha pushed herself from the door of your car, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “I think that was Wanda’s car,” she answered nonchalantly.

The very mention of her name sent chills down your spine. You shifted in your spot and spoke up, “I think it’s time I head home, but I’ve really enjoyed meeting you.” It was true, you did thoroughly love meeting Agatha, Natasha, Pepper, the students, and even Wanda, although you were entirely sure she did not share the same sentiments.

“Of course. So have I. See you tomorrow,” Natasha responded understandingly with a warm smile.

You fell asleep that night thinking about Wanda Maximoff. Her ringless ring finger. The long locks of her dark orange hair. The inviting colour of her green eyes, almost daring you to delve deeper into them every time you caught them with yours. The swell of her breasts as her blouse exposed the entirety of her red lace bra. Her curved hips hugged tightly by her skirt as she walked ahead of you in the hallway at lunch.

Second to wanting to sleep in for another ten minutes, Wanda invaded your thoughts at the moment of your awakening as well.

As you ate your cereal and read a novel absentmindedly, you noticed the notification from an unknown number.

‘Hiya, Y/N. Good morning :)’ it read.

You knew instantly that it was Natasha. After adding her to your contacts, you responded with, ‘Hi, Natasha! Good morning to you too xx’

When you arrived at work an hour later, you were quick to notice the absence of Agatha’s things in the locked classroom. Had she not yet arrived? You hoped she was pulling into the parking lot now, because any other distance would render her late. How would her students get in?

“Y/N. Good morning,” a voice greeted from behind you and you felt yourself tense. One does not spend every hour of their night and morning daydreaming about a woman only to not recognise her voice the next time you saw her.

Turning around to face Wanda with a meek smile, you replied to her, “Good morning, Ms Maximoff.” You did not notice the way Wanda inhaled sharply at the sight of you, her back straightening slightly. You were wearing skinny jeans that hugged your legs a tad too tight for a professional setting, a black lacy tank and a dark brown loose sweater atop of it. Green eyes wandered up your figure for several milliseconds before meeting yours. The action was not lost on you, but the meaning of it was disregarded as chaste.

After clearing her throat, Wanda spoke again, “Unfortunately, Agatha is out sick today. There is a substitute coming in to supply for her absence, but Steve decided you wouldn't be learning all that you could here if you were working under a substitute teacher, even if for a day.”

Steve Rogers was the high school’s principal. From the brief time you spent with him during your interview and several times as you passed him in the hallway, you saw him as a cordial and confident man.

Wanda listed a few teachers, “Pepper is on a field trip today and her husband’s class went with her. Bruce is otherwise preoccupied, as what is typical. And Natasha…”

There was a pause in her sentence as if she was waiting for some type of reaction on your end. When one did not come, Wanda finished her sentence, “She is available today, but Steve approached me first. So, you will be working under me for the day.”

Working under… Wanda? All day? You swallowed and looked away from her, scratching at your cheek lightly in an attempt to hide your flushed face. Nails then dug into your palms as you tried to take hold of the wildly blooming nerves in your stomach. How were you going to spend the entire day within close proximity to Wanda and behave like a normal human being?

“Okay,” you replied.

Wanda was amused by your simplicity, your willingness to follow along with anything she demanded of you. Her lips twitched upwards as she repressed a smirk. She turned to head across the hallway to her classroom, not uttering a single word to you as she imagined you were following behind her. You were.

You were a bit shorter than Wanda, so you spent the time running your eyes up the expanse of her hair, wondering how it would feel if your fingers brushed through it. Would she like the feeling of it? How did she like her lovers to touch her? How did she touch them?

The door to her classroom was unlocked and she stepped through, flicking on the light as you followed behind her. She was wearing a striped dress consisting of reds, yellows, oranges, and blues. It was similar to the style of the seventies, but Wanda pulled it off perfectly. The ivory tone of her skin balanced out the vibrance of her dress. Her long straight hair framed her high cheekbones. Wanda was beautiful.

You wanted to feel her skin against yours, her warm breath blowing down the side of your neck. You wanted to be enveloped in her scent- sweet fig and woodsy earth. Her rough hands roaming your body without a sliver of hesitation, without restraint.

A sigh escaped Wanda as her bag slipped from her shoulder, laying it down on her desk chair. She turned to you. “You can sit wherever you’d like,” she told you, her hand gesturing to the U-shaped table by her desk. You set your bag down at the table closest to the door and furthest from Wanda’s desk.

“Please, darling, closer. No need to be so far away.” Wanda beckoned you over with her hand and, with a blush, you picked your bag up and sat in the middle of the table. “I don’t bite,” she purred out, and your legs turned to jelly. Fortunately, you plopped yourself down in your seat on time.

“That’s better,” she said with a pleased smile and lifted her bag onto her desk to take a seat at her chair. Wanda began unpacking her things and you watched her as you unpacked yours too. It was slightly unsettling how sweet she was being to you so suddenly. She had always been a bit aloof and, frankly, repelled by you. What had changed? The answer was far from realisation and that settled in you uncomfortably.

“I teach four classes a day,” Wanda spoke as she flipped through a large binder she had in her desk drawer that was now sitting on her desk in front of her. You settled your movements and you stayed quiet to listen to her words. “I know you’re used to a maximum of two with Agatha, but I am the only foreign language teacher here, and Agatha is one of the several history teachers. Hence, I teach more in a school day than her.” She had her binder open to today’s date. There was a list of detailed events and scheduled lessons outlined on the page. “I hope this isn’t too much for you. If you can’t keep up, I’d recommend you relegate to Ms Romanoff’s classes for the day instead.”

The last bit sounded demeaning of Natasha, but you tried not to read into it much; you had no clue how your coworkers interacted with each other, and for all you knew, Wanda’s wording meant nothing. “No, it’s not too much for me, Ms Maximoff. I can keep up,” you promised her with a nod.

Wanda’s chin rested in her hand as she looked at you, an impressed hum sounding from her. “That’s good. I knew you were a bright girl, Y/N,” she praised with a smile. The upwards curve of her soft lips was unrestrained and genuine. Wanda looked so natural like this. You didn’t know her much, but even you could figure that the overly-strict and stern high school teacher was not everything she was. She was more. Much more. You hoped this was only the beginning of figuring out just what that ‘more’ involved.

“Thank you, Ms Maximoff,” you responded, proud of having been praised by her.

“You can call me Wanda.” She’d been strict with you because she liked having you submit to her. She liked when you addressed her formally, how simple-minded you were when you followed her orders. But avoiding diving into things right away for some foreplay, whether you knew it was happening or not, was delicious. Now, she’d have you another way.

Pride beamed out of you as you successfully arrived at first-name basis. As if every god in Valhalla stood together to smile down at you, a giggle escaped Wanda at your reaction. You were so adorable. Innocent. Corruptible.

“Okay. Wanda,” you replied with a bright grin. The name slipped smoothly from your tongue, embracing every curve of your mouth and edge of your lips.

Wanda’s head tipped to the side in her hand, staring at you with something alike to admiration. The attention made you squirm and you looked back down to your notebook filled with miscellaneous notes on Agatha’s history lessons and notable methods of teaching.

Several students slipped into the classroom and you watched Wanda’s posture straighten and she hardened back into her previous sternness.

“Good morning, Ms Maximoff,” some students chirped as they headed to their desks. Wanda greeted them politely and she continued with setting up the day’s lessons.

It finally settled in you that Wanda was going to speak another language for most of the day, and you were allowed to listen, help where you could, and take notes. This was the closest thing you’d ever gotten to heaven. You doodled absently and took some notes on Wanda’s methods of preparation, all the while students were filing into the classroom steadily.

Ten minutes later, everyone was settled and Wanda stood from her seat, heading towards the front of the class. “Good morning, everyone. I hope you’re all well-rested, because our Russian lesson will be heavy this morning,” she told them as she reached the front of the room. The students groaned simultaneously. She handed a stack of sheets to the student closest to her to hand out the papers, which they promptly did.

“But first, I’d like to introduce Y/N.” Wanda gestured to the back of the classroom where you sat. Approximately twenty-five heads turned to look at you. You smiled awkwardly and waved. “For today, she’s going to assist my class. Don’t be afraid to go to her for help with any of your academic questions,” she spoke. Her eyes were on you for several moments, and once they left you, they did not return until Carol Danvers stood from her desk during the class’ work period to speak with you.

After Wanda’s lessons, you had learned how to read several letters of the Russian alphabet, and how to say ‘Hello, how are you?’ in Russian too.

“Hi,” Carol said shyly as she invited herself to take a seat in front of you across the table.

You didn’t know much about Carol besides what Natasha had told you the other day. Carol was the top of her class in physical education, continuously excelling in sports team leadership, winning countless trophies for the high school when their teams went out to tournaments. She was a bright young woman with a promising future, but the way Wanda glared at the two of you interacting made you question your first impressions of her.

“Hi,” you answered with a polite smile. You shifted in your seat, positioning yourself to talk to her with undivided attention. “Can I help you with something?” You’ve always loved helping people. You loved having answers to things, to see the enlightened expression on people’s faces once you helped them. You loved pleasing.

Incidentally, Wanda loved being pleased.

Maria Rambeau exchanged a look with Carol and the blonde turned back around to you. The exchange was slightly odd, but Carol’s curious eyes brought your attention back to her. “Actually, yes,” Carol started and played with her fingers atop of the table. “I was wondering…” Her words came out slow but you simply nodded in patient understanding.

If looks could kill, Carol Danvers would’ve been incinerated by Wanda on the spot three times over.

“Are you, um… Do you do after-school tutoring?” Carol asked with an innocent raise of her eyebrows. You took a few seconds to come up with a response as you tried deciphering what she was asking of you. “I just mean, I do a lot of training and tournaments during and after school. So, I was just curious if you offered tutoring. Y’know, after school,” she elaborated with dramatic swishes of her hands.

Wanda knew precisely what Carol was asking- whether or not you had plans after work, whether or not you were seeing someone. Her jaw clenched and she forced herself to wait a few moments longer so she could reprimand Carol with just enough evidence to send her back to her desk. She hadn’t known you long, no, but time meant little to Wanda when you were being flirted with right in front of her.

Wanda also knew that you were too oblivious to know what was going on, and if you were to eventually figure it out on your own, it’d take several more minutes for you to do so.

And Carol was much too young for you. She had just turned eighteen, and Carol’s attraction to you was nothing more than a childish crush. You needed someone mature, someone with experience. Someone to tell you what to do. Sweet girls like you deserved that. Not a half-brained high schooler.

“What do you need tutoring with? I’m not very good with Russian like Ms Maximoff is, if that’s what you’re looking for,” you replied to Carol with a sheepish smile. The mention of her name in your mouth while talking to another girl made Wanda feel all the more territorial over you.

“Uh, anything!” Carol replied with an eager grin. She sat up straight in her seat, hands in her lap as she leaned forward confidently. “I mean, anything. I’m sort of… lacking in everything. Academically. So, whatever you can offer, I’d love to go out with.” Her words stumbled into a Freudian Slip, and not even you could miss that one. Carol’s face turned bright red and she stuttered out helplessly, trying to cover up what she had just said.

Peter Parker giggled with Kate somewhere closer to the front of the classroom. With Carol’s status at school, she had many friends, meaning many people knew her business. Everyone knew that Carol was a lesbian and crushing hard on Ms Harkness’ new assistant. Realising how loud she had been speaking, Carol flushed even redder and she stood up abruptly. “Sorry,” she muttered out into her hands, obviously embarrassed as she excused herself from the classroom without another word.

A grin tugged at Wanda’s lips after all of thirty seconds passed before Carol messed things up for herself without any external intervention. She couldn’t help the throb between her thighs when you remained hers without having to lift a single finger.

Your eyes followed Carol as she disappeared down the hallway. Immense guilt fell over you as you thought over what you could’ve done to support her. You didn’t like her the way she did you, but she was a nice girl. Your fingers tapped against the table anxiously.

About to stand up to follow Carol out to comfort her, Wanda spoke to you, “Y/N.” Her voice was quiet but stern as it cut through the otherwise silent classroom. You turned to her. ‘Leave her,’ Wanda mouthed silently. The demand felt domineering. Possessive. But you couldn’t shake the warmth that it placed in your chest, being commanded by Wanda Maximoff. You sat back down in your seat and continued to go through your course’s sideshow from yesterday that you had missed to have your first day here.

Wanda smiled at your easy compliance and returned back to her own work.

Up until lunch, the day had not only been passing quickly, but enjoyably as well. Wanda was very obviously passionate about teaching languages, and she was more than qualified to do so. Her lessons were etched into your mind with ease as you listened closely to every word Wanda uttered about the history of the Cyrillic language and Russian grammar as her speech was interlaced with an accent that was much stronger while she was speaking English and Russian simultaneously. The rolling of her R’s made your core throb uncomfortably.

“Would you like to go out for coffee with me, sweetheart?” Wanda offered as she put her notes away into her binder after class. You nodded immediately in response and the high school teacher smiled down at you. She took her purse with one hand as she approached you. A finger hooked itself under your chin and Wanda tipped your head up to look at her. Her eyes were solemn as they looked down at your doe eyes and soft lips. A smile formed on her lips again as you let her touch you without restraint, completely at her mercy.

Maybe if it was anyone else, you’d have pulled away from the contact without a second’s notice. But it was Wanda. Wanda had hooked her finger under your chin, making you look up as if you were on your knees for her. And you would’ve actually done so if she asked. Your warm breath exhaled on her ring-clad thumb as its pad ran softly over your bottom lip. Green eyes were dark as they continued to look down at you. You wished you knew what she was thinking. Her gaze was possessive and almost patronising.

“Sweet girl,” she uttered out softly. “Let’s go.”

As Wanda headed towards the classroom’s front door, you quickly packed your things into your bag and followed behind her hastily, nearly tripping on the foot of the U-shaped table. A smirk was flashed at you as Wanda mused at your eagerness to spend your lunchtime with her.

“Your boyfriend must be proud of you and your new position here,” Wanda assumed aloud as she pulled out of the school’s parking lot. She was wearing shades with the car windows down, wind blowing through her strawberry blonde hair. When you slipped into the passenger’s seat, you were certain this was the exact same car that sped past you and Natasha yesterday.

Carol tiptoed around it, but Wanda was not entirely one for subtleties when she knew what she wanted. She’d take you whole.

Your head leaned against the side of the car, allowing the wind to caress every inch of your face as Wanda drove to a cafe she knew. “I’m sure he would be if I had one,” you responded. You were quite the oblivious person sometimes. It didn’t take much to be the most intuitive person your friends knew, but when it came to your own personal life, you couldn’t tell when someone was purposely flirting with you until they outright mentioned it like Carol had earlier.

Wanda’s car smelled good. It smelled like her. Subtly sweet. Honeyed earth. It felt like a warm, indirect hug from her.

The comfort you felt as you were driven down a sunny road by Wanda was not lost on her. She looked over at you warmly, the sight of your eased expression made immeasurable pride blossom in her. Nothing Natasha nor Agatha could do would ever make you feel like this, and Wanda was doing little to nothing to have you wrapped around her finger. If she leaned over to wrap a collar around your pretty neck, she doubted you’d protest at all. ‘Wanda’s dirty whore,’ the collar’s name tag would say, and you’d show it off proudly, wouldn’t you? To every pathetic bitch who wanted to fuck you, letting them know that you were entirely hers.

Wanda ground her hips into her seat slightly, applying pressure to her throbbing centre. A muffled moan came from her as she bit down on her bottom lip, both desperation and the desire to be subtle around you contending.

“Is everything alright?” you asked her as you lifted your head from the window.

“I’m fine, darling. You’re so lovely to me,” Wanda replied with a small sly smile. From behind her shaded sunglasses, you couldn’t see the way green eyes trailed down your body, dangerously unfocused from the road. Her tongue pushed into the inside of her cheek, thighs pressing together as her eyes ran down your legs, hidden away, tightly, by your jeans.

Lunch with Wanda was wonderful. She was so gorgeous and kind despite how cold she had been to you when you first met. She went not more than several minutes before flattering you again. Her hands reached for you at every chance possible, running down your legs, your upper arms, tucking your hair behind your ears. You felt so pampered, so taken care of. She bought your coffee and the croissant you wanted- or more accurately, eyed, to which Wanda promptly bought for you. She brushed off the crumbs from your jeans with her palm and around your mouth with her thumb. Her fingers tightened around your thighs as she brushed the crumbs away from them, and took her time in brushing her thumb over your lips, simultaneously stern and feather-weight.

Halfway through the lunch, Wanda went to the washroom, and you thought nothing of it. While she was gone, your mind raced with the lingering feeling of Wanda’s hands on your body, on your face. Minutes turned into seconds while your fingers traced over the ghosting sensations of Wanda’s hands.

All the while, Wanda’s dress was hanging from around her wrist, head leaning back into the wall of a bathroom stall as she thrusted wet fingers into herself languidly, her panties pulled to the side. She kept her moans and pants soft to hear the sloshing of her own cunt, never mind the possibility of someone walking in. What rational bone she had in her body was nonexistent while her mind was filled with the feeling of the pliability of your skin under her wandering hands, the scent of you filling her every sense, even as you were sitting in the other room.

Wanda panted your name out repeatedly as if it were a prayer, each syllable of it running through her mouth, tasting the way it caressed her tongue. Her fingers picked up speed as she drew closer to her climax. The heel of her palm pressed into her clit and her knees buckled, a desperate whimper escaping her. Her walls clenched around nimble fingers as she reached her hilt. She slid down the stall door, riding through her orgasm with shaky fingers, until she forced her legs to straighten and hold herself back up.

Between shaky breaths, Wanda took her hand out from between her thighs and let her dress fall back to its original place. After taking the next few moments to clean herself up, she headed back out to the cafe. Even if you had suspected that she’d been masturbating in the washroom, the sight of a perfectly kempt Wanda would’ve done away with your suspicions.

Approaching from behind you, Wanda placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing her arm around you gently. “Ready to go, angel?” she asked, looking down at you. You looked up to her and a warm smile formed on Wanda’s lips the moment she saw your curious eyes. So innocent and pretty when you were looking up at her like that.

You responded with a nod and stood up in Wanda’s hold. To avoid overwhelming you with physical contact, Wanda’s arm slipped from around your shoulders and she stepped back to allow you to get ready to leave. You placed the empty coffee mugs beside each other and stacked your sandwich plate atop of Wanda’s before leaving the cafe with her.

Wanda forced herself not to touch you any further to avoid delving into the delusions of her expedition in the washroom earlier. Unbeknownst to her, you were aware of the sudden decline of physical contact, and you missed her warm venturing hands.

You walked closer to her so your shoulder brushed against hers. Wanda did not pull away. If you had urged her just a little bit more, she was likely to climb atop of you in the car and fuck you with her fingers until you came in her mouth whether you wanted it or not. The desire to do so was clawing itself up the frame of her body, and with enough prompting, it’d burst from her every seam. But you parted from her to round to your side of the car and Wanda inhaled sharply as she unlocked the car and entered into the driver’s side.

You’d be the death of her.

Wanda wished she had her strap stowed in her car to bend you over in her backseat and fuck you until you couldn’t take anymore. The car would rock with every pound into your pussy, letting everyone know who you belonged to. Perhaps her students would catch her, and there would undoubtedly be consequences to that, but that was far from the list of Wanda’s primary concerns.

Throughout the ride back to school, Wanda kept stealing glances of your relaxed body language, your expression at ease as you were vulnerable in her presence, entirely trusting of her. She could feel pressure begin to build between her hips again at your innocence. You had no idea how Wanda’s fingers had been knuckle-deep in her cunt earlier, fucking herself until she came to the thought of you. You had no idea how desperate she was to fuck you dumb.

Needless to say, it was a turbulent ride as Wanda’s needs went unsatisfied. She imagined coming right out with it and telling you how wet she was, how badly she needed you to eat her out. Like the good girl you were, you’d do anything for her. Anything she asked you to. She imagined the feeling of your soft hair as it was tightened into her fist while she pushed your face further down between her thighs, her other hand squeezing the wheel.

Wanda pulled into the school’s parking lot and parked her car within the next several moments. She and you had a few minutes left before lunch ended. “I really enjoyed lunch with you,” Wanda told you, taking her keys out of ignition as she looked over to you.

You smiled widely, pride bubbling up inside you. The sight made Wanda all but melt. “I did too. I hope we can spend more time together soon,” you admitted. As kind as Natasha and Agatha were, your admiration of Wanda was dissimilar to how you felt about them. Your admiration for Wanda nestled within you warmly. It opened your eyes to find every opportunity possible to spend with her. It was uplifting and exciting.

Wanda’s hand raised to your cheek, stroking your cheekbone softly with her thumb as one would do with fine porcelain. She cared little about the possibility of anyone catching the two of you. In fact, she almost hoped for someone to. Natasha Romanoff or Carol Danvers, any of those other pitiful broads trying to get into bed with you. They didn’t deserve you. “We should get going, angel.” The tips of her fingers grazed along your jaw as she pulled away to step out of the car.

You sat in the car for a moment more, trying to catch your breath and settle your nerves from the sudden intimate contact. To avoid looking like an idiot, you forced yourself to follow Wanda and step out of the car, taking your bag with you as you rounded the vehicle to join her side.

The Russian smiled over at you and you took a step closer to her side as you both headed into the school. Her pretty girl, stuck to her side without so much as a beckon. Although, you’d likely love it more if Wanda had her hand tightened around your forearm, forcing you forward by her side possessively.

“Y/N!” a voice called from behind you and Wanda. The two of you turned at the doors of the school to see a familiar redhead heading your way with a waving hand.

Wanda’s jaw tensed and without a second thought, she raised her hand to the small of your back. You arched slightly, unknowing of the way you stepped into Wanda’s side. But Wanda had caught onto it. A smirk tugged at her lips at your subconscious desire to be hers. The hesitant expression on Natasha’s face only pulled her smirk further upwards.

Natasha’s eyes flickered between the two of you, but you were entirely oblivious of her curiosity. “Are you two… Were you out? For lunch?” she asked, an awkward smile on her lips as her eyebrows furrowed.

“Wanda and I went out for coffee,” you told her, sounding proud of being in Wanda’s presence. “Did you have lunch already?”

Wanda pushed her tongue into the side of her cheek at your concern for Natasha.

“I… I did. I texted you earlier, actually. I wasn’t sure if you got my texts,” Natasha said with a sheepish chuckle. “Were you busy?”

“She was,” Wanda replied abruptly. Your gaze darted over to her, surprised at the harshness of her tone. Even when you’d first met, Wanda never sounded like that.

Natasha’s gaze hardened momentarily, but she eased her stance and expression quickly in an attempt to play nice around you. “Alright. It’s no problem. Just don’t forget to text me back when you’re free,” she told you with a slight smirk. She passed close by you, shoulders nearly brushing as Natasha entered the school.

The demanding tone of Natasha’s words spiked immeasurable amounts of anger in Wanda. The slyness of Natasha's smirk and the implication in her glare. Without even having meant to, Wanda’s hand formed into a claw and she dug her nails into the small of your back as her eyes followed the redhead into the building. The pain was sharp and you pulled away at the feeling of Wanda’s nails pressing into your skin. Although she noticed the way you flinched from her painful contact, Wanda only rounded her hand to your hip, pulling you flush against her side.

Without another word, Wanda walked you into the building with her, both of your hips joined. Her fingernails were still digging into your skin, albeit into your hip this time, but the warmth radiating from her, the scent of her perfume, numbed the pain entirely. With her other hand, she fished her classroom keys out of her purse. From what you recalled, Wanda didn’t have a class next period, so you weren’t sure why she was so hurried. Her key nearly slipped from her fingers as she shoved it into the doorknob.

“Wand-”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Wanda gritted out. Her jaw was clenched and her fingers trembled slightly. The edge of her tone startled you, but her evident imbalance made you feel more concerned than intimidated.

She pushed the classroom door open and pulled you in by your waist. The lights were off, but the room was basked warmly by the afternoon sun in shades of orange and red. You stepped into the room, placing your bag down on the table you were sitting on earlier while you listened to Wanda closing the classroom door behind you. When you turned around, the high school teacher was only inches in front of you. Within seconds, her hands were on your hips, pulling you against her body.

Her lips were crushed onto yours, teeth knocking together as her tongue darted out to run against your lips. She tasted like coffee. She smelled eternally of what was identifying itself to you not as perfume, but as something uniquely Wanda Maximoff. Your body stumbled back into the table but Wanda’s tight grip on you kept you upright. Her breasts were pressed flush against yours and you breathed out shakily. Wanda’s hands trailed down from your hips to your ass, squeezing roughly. You squealed softly into her mouth. She forced her tongue into your mouth, though she didn't meet very much resistance to begin with. She explored you with her tongue curiously and without equivocation. A low groan came from her and she lifted one hand to tug at the waistband of your jeans, fingers tucking themselves between the fabric and your soft skin.

“You have no idea…” Wanda whispered against your lips, “how terribly I’ve wanted you to myself since I met you yesterday.” With her hand on your ass and the other wrapped around the waistline of your jeans, she pulled you from the table, led you forward, and collided your back with the classroom’s front door. A sharp gasp winded itself out of you but Wanda was quick to cover your lips with hers again. Her body pushed further into you, hips knocking against yours.

Even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to slip out from between Wanda and the door. But you didn’t try. You didn’t even think about it. You kissed her back with attempts at leverage over the kiss, but she easily took control of you. Your world was enveloped in her. Her scent as she was pushed up against you. The wandering of her hands and their perpetual scratching and groping of every inch of your body she passed over. The pressure of her lips against yours, the intrusion of her tongue, and the moans she let out because she was touching you. All because, finally, she had you for herself.

Wanda took hold of your hand and raised it up to her breast, forcing you to grope her. The feeling of holding her like this drove you just as wild as it did Wanda. Her hips bucked against yours, causing a whimper to escape you at her dangerously close proximity to your core.

“Tell mommy she makes your princess parts all wet,” Wanda huffed out against your ear. The term made you shudder. Her words were filthy and spoken without hesitation. The idea that Wanda was always like this while behaving through composed professionalism made your cunt throb harder. You could barely respond to her with the uninhibited pressure between your legs and the feeling of Wanda pressed up against you. Her every contact with your body made your skin’s sensitivity increase tenfold. You buzzed with desire to be touched. Your other arm raised to wrap around her waist tightly.

Wanda chuckled darkly and she kissed your cheek in admiration. “I’m not a patient woman. But since you’ve been so obedient for mommy, I’ll let your unresponsiveness slide just this once. I’ll check your little pussy myself.” She let go of your hand to trail down your stomach, and your hand switched to her other breast, squeezing tightly. Wanda groaned at your harshness and her hand tucked itself into your jeans. Her hand descended further and her fingers pressed against your clothed centre. The fabric of your panties were damp with your juices and the tips of her fingers ventured deeper into your folds.

You melted in her hold and you let out a long moan, high-pitched with need. Your hips bucked down, desperate for more attention. Wanda pressed her fingernail into your clit in forewarning, her upper lip curling as she pulled away from the crook of your neck to look at you. Your hips jerked back up at the small sting of overstimulation that shot up your centre. She tutted at your impatience. “I don’t like that,” she snapped, her voice low and reprimanding. “Be still and pretty for mommy. That’s how I'd like my little girl. Do you reject this?”

Your head shook immediately, aggressively. “No, no. I’ll listen to you, mommy. I want to make you happy.”

A bright smile pulled at Wanda’s lips at your obedience at your willingness to call her mommy. “You make mommy very happy, princess. Now, be sweet and let me touch your pussy,” she told you and leaned forward to kiss you. The kiss was much softer than the first one, her lips moving over yours gently. The placidity of the kiss’ force might’ve been imagined as impossible after the roughness of Wanda’s previous actions, but she could be a gentle lover as much as she was a force required to be sated. Her fingers softened against your core before carefully raising her hand to tuck them into your panties.

The tips of her fingers ghosted over your slit, your heat quickly enveloping her digits. Wanda leaned forward to kiss your neck, then up the column of your throat. She nipped and sucked at your skin, surely marking you for everyone to see, and she did so proudly. The warmth of her kisses were cooled with her trails of saliva she left against your skin as she moved on to pepper kisses and bites elsewhere.

Her fingers dipped into your folds slowly, teasingly. “Tell me you want it. Show mommy how much of a dirty slut you are for her,” she demanded against your jaw. She bit at your skin, causing you to yelp.

“I want it, mommy,” you whined, eyes screwed together tightly. “I want to be yours.” Your hand rounded her hips, tugging at her dress. Her legs were slowly exposed as you pulled her dress upwards, desperate to touch her too.

“So good to me…” Wanda muttered out and kissed your cheek. Her fingers pushed into your hole, but not before brushing over your clit and making you shudder. Slowly, she eased into you, stretching your walls apart. Wanda sighed breathily at the feeling of your cunt wrapped tightly around her fingers. Her warm exhale tickled your neck. “Just a little bit more, princess,” she encouraged as she inched her middle and ring fingers deeper into you.

She could feel the way you were attempting to untense around her to take Wanda’s fingers like the good little whore you were. “You’re so tight,” Wanda grunted out softly. You could hear hints of an accent when she spoke low like that. It made you wet in ways only Wanda could feel. She angled her wrist to position her fingers straight into you. “Has it been a while since my sweet doll’s been fucked?” She laughed sadistically and your head lolled forward to rest on her shoulder. You nuzzled your face into her neck.

You whimpered out, “Mommy.” Her words were all too true. It’d been so long since you’d been properly fucked, and within seconds, she had you like clay in her arms. When you felt Wanda several inches into your hole, fingers slowly parting inside you to stretch you out, your puffy lips reached her knuckles.

Wanda hummed appreciatively. “There we go, good girl. Mommy’s all in now,” she praised with a smile. She kissed your lips, warm and soft. When she pulled away, the tip of her nose brushed against yours intentionally. The soft gesture juxtaposed the way she began pumping into you. You mewled as her fingers pulled in and out of your tight hole. The tightness of your jeans made it so that Wanda’s palm was pressed against your cunt. The heel of her hand rubbed against your clit.

She sighed in vexation. The apathy of the sigh, the idea that fucking you with her fingers was such a simple action for her, made you moan out. You had no shame in having Wanda treating you like a needy hole and nothing else turn you on. “I got so tired of having people try to take you from me. Half of the staff here would bed you without a second thought if they could. And don’t get me fucking started with Danvers. Would you like that, malysh? To be fucked by anyone other than your mommy?”

You had no clue Wanda had felt so possessive over you. You had noticed the way she glared at Carol while she spoke to you, but the thought that she had been this jealous even before was something you’d never would’ve thought of. “No, mommy. I’m only yours. I don’t want anyone else to touch me. Not Carol, or Nat-”

Wanda took your jaw in her other hand with one swift movement. Her fingers pressed into your cheeks painfully. “I didn’t say anything about Natasha. Are you thinking of her right now?” she snarled. She gave you no more than a second to respond, and when you did not, she let go of your jaw and slapped you across the face. A gasp escaped you at the sudden impact but you continued to take Wanda’s fingers, horny even while being slapped around by her.

“You ungrateful whore,” Wanda hissed. “Mommy’s been so good to you.” She sounded as if she was in genuine anguish, but the way her fingers began to pump into you with increasing force told you otherwise. Pain and pleasure shot through you simultaneously. “I bought my little girl lunch, and I’ve been so gentle with her up until now. Are you telling me that I shouldn’t have done that? Are you telling me that you’re thinking about that Romanoff slut while mommy’s fucking you with her fingers?” Her eyebrows furrowed together and there’s a hint of a pout of her lips.

Her palm slapped across your face again. “Yebanaya shlyukha,” she scolded. You had not a single clue what she had said, but you felt degraded anyways. Through your surprised gasp at the second slap, Wanda forced you to look at her again and spat in your mouth. “Swallow or I slap you again,” she demanded with a clenched jaw. You closed your mouth and swallowed. “You get so wet when mommy hits you, baby. It’s cute.” You flushed at the observation. “Now, tell me, what exactly was she talking about earlier? What was that bitch texting you?”

“N-Nothing important, mommy. Promise.” The speed at which you submitted to Wanda had to have broken some kind of world record.

“Good. Because after this, you’re going to give me your phone and I’m going to read your messages. All of them. Mommy will decide whether or not you still get to talk to Natasha, and anyone else after my princess.” Wanda kissed you again and she felt you nod in understanding. Without warning, she slipped her fingers out of your pussy and you groaned at the empty feeling. You hadn’t known how much Wanda was stretching your walls apart until she took her fingers out of you.

Her other hand raised to entangle her fingers in your hair. She lifted your head up and brought her glistening fingers to your mouth. You had only opened your mouth a centimetre at the sight of her fingers’ position before she pushed her fingers forward into your mouth impatiently. The sudden action made you gag as her long slender fingers slid down your throat. Your tongue lifted to press against her fingers, moaning at the taste of yourself.

“Taste good?” Wanda asked with a sly grin. The sounds of your gags as you tried to accommodate her fingers as they penetrated your throat made Wanda buck her hips forward into yours. She imprinted the noises in her mind, saving it for later when she would miss you. Your eyes were screwed together, trying your best to take Wanda like she wanted you to.

She pulled her fingers out of your mouth and replaced them with her tongue, savouring your flavour with a deep kiss. A groan escaped her at the taste, and she pulled you away from the door with a hand on your hip and the other with a handful of your hair in her fist. Wanda flipped your positions, lips still on yours as the back of your knees hit the edge of her desk. She pushed at your hip, forcing your kiss to break as the front of your thighs were pushed against the desk’s edge.

Wanda leaned in to speak against your ear, her warm breath tickling your neck. “Let mommy fuck your princess parts, darling. Do you know what that means?” she husked out. Your hair smelled so good. You smelled so good. You were so soft and warm in her arms. You were so perfect. Her body embraced you from behind, arms tightened around your waist. You could feel the way she ground herself into your ass. She was so desperate to touch you to the point where she was humping herself against you.

You’re almost entirely sure what she meant, but your mind was too fuzzy to think without Wanda’s guidance. You shook your head.

Wanda cupped your sex through your pants. A whimper escaped you as the pressure of her rough fingers. You were still so sensitive from being stretched out. “This is what it means. Will you let mommy fuck your pretty hole with her dick?”

“Please, mommy. I can take it,” you pleaded. Your head fell back onto Wanda’s shoulder, allowing her more room to kiss your neck. She pressed soft kisses to your pulse points, inhaling your scent deeply.

“Good. Because mommy would’ve fucked you stupid whether you wanted it or not,” Wanda told you. She raised one hand from your hip to place it on your upper back. Without warning, she pushed you forward so you were bent over the desk. Several objects clattered to the ground at the sudden action, but Wanda was unconcerned with them. “Oh, don’t play coy with me, kitten.” Her hand was placed on your head, petting your hair softly before she rounded the desk and nudged your head down roughly when she let go of you. Your hair fell into your face.

Heels clicked against the classroom floor as Wanda walked away from you. You raised your head to look at the older woman. She was rummaging in the tall coat closet behind her desk. “Mommy knows how badly you want her. You’re too little to think for yourself, so let me do it. Mommy knows what's best for you,” she spoke out. Her words were partially muffled as her arms were digging into the depths of the closet, but you heard her every word.

A scarlet red object was pulled out of the closet and you squinted, attempting to figure out what it was that was hanging from her hand. Wanda closed the closet and approached you. As she came closer, the object became clearer. A black harness hung from around her hand. She stopped at your side, lowering the faux cock to your face. It was a strap-on. A rather large one. “You had that in your classroom?”

Wanda noticed your bewilderment and she chuckled. “Indeed. Ever since this morning. You like it?” she asked you, waving it in front of your face teasingly. “I brought it here just for you, after meeting you yesterday. Now, open.” You parted your lips at once. She eased her strap forward then slid it down your throat. Your lips wrapped around it and Wanda smiled at your submission. She fucked your mouth with the strap carefully. Tears formed in your eyes as Wanda eased it further down your throat.

“You fucking whore…” she muttered out. Her words were degrading but her tone was indicative of nothing less than admiration. The strap’s tip pressed against the back of your throat, making you gag. You looked up at Wanda, eyes full of tears and your vision blurred. You lifted yourself up onto your elbows, relaxing your throat further for her cock.

“Mm. That’s good,” Wanda hummed out and scratched at your scalp soothingly with her other hand before she sped up the pace, fucking your mouth with her strap rapidly. The two of you kept going just like that for a few minutes until Wanda slowly pulled her strap out of your throat. You sucked at its tip gingerly once it slipped out of your mouth completely. Once your mouth was completely empty, saliva dripped onto Wanda's desk as you panted, trying to catch your breath. With a smug smile, Wanda ran the tip through your lips. She then straightened and laid it on the desk. She leaned down to reach her hand up her dress and you swallowed, finding it difficult to tear your eyes away from the sight.

She slid her panties down her smooth legs and stepped out of them. She balled it up and stuck the lacy black garment into your mouth. It didn’t take long for the sweet, tangy flavour of Wanda’s juices to spread throughout your mouth. You lifted your tongue to run through the fabric, finding the exact spot where her orgasm in the cafe’s washroom spread through her panties. “Of course you’d like having mommy’s panties stuffed in your slutty mouth,” Wanda noted with a proud grin. She kissed your forehead and picked the strap-on up from the desk and lowered it to her ankles to step into it.

Your eyes darted down Wanda’s dress when she leaned down. She was wearing a thin black bra, its lacy pattern matching that of her panties. You could see her erect pink nipples peeking through the black lace and Wanda smirked up at you. Your face flushed at having been caught staring at her like you had been in the staff room the other day.

Wanda straightened again, her dress hanging from around her wrists as she fastened the strap’s harness around her hips. The dark red faux cock stuck out from between her hips and you swallowed at the sight of its size, twinges of panic bubbling up in you at the idea of being fucked by something like that.

“Don’t think too much, moya lyubov,” said Wanda as she rounded you to position herself behind you. Her hands tucked themselves under your sweater and ran up your sides, gripping your torso harshly. You hoped she left bruises. “I’ll have your mind too fucked out to think about anything soon enough. Don’t overwork yourself,” Wanda cooed. She stepped forward so her strap pressed against your ass. Even through your jeans, you could feel her.

Lifting your arms up behind you, Wanda slipped your sweater off, exposing your arms. She threw it to the side somewhere. You heard its zipper clink against the classroom floor. You felt hands round your hips to unbutton your jeans, and with one swift movement, Wanda tugged your jeans from your thighs and let it pool around your ankles.

Wanda leaned down to press kisses to your ass, then lower to kiss your clit through your panties, inhaling the scent of your arousal. She licked a stripe up your clothed cunt, moaning at the way your flavour spread across her tongue even through the soaked garment. You were so wet for her. She pressed another kiss dangerously close to your outer lips and she straightened again. She pulled your panties down so it laid atop of your jeans.

Her lips parted and she leaned back. “Look at this…” Wanda mused and tucked her thumb between your folds, parting them and exposing your heat to the cold air of the classroom. “You have such a pretty pink pussy, baby.” Her thumb pressed into your hole teasingly before placing both hands on your waist. Your position was humiliating. You were bent over the cold desk in Wanda’s classroom, your ass completely exposed to her. You had little to no control over your own body, over your own mind. As Wanda’s cock laid between the valley between your asscheeks, you couldn’t imagine a future for yourself beyond being fucked stupid her.

You closed your eyes, trying to place as much focus as you could to what Wanda was doing behind you because you couldn’t see her. She slowly slid her cock through your folds, then positioned the tip of it against your hole. Without warning, Wanda slid the entirety of her dick into you, causing you to jerk forward and cry out at the sharp pain that shot through you, her panties still stuffed in your mouth. Your arm reached forward to grip the opposite end of the desk, pushing a hand-in basket to the ground. Sheets of student assignments fluttered to the ground.

“Don’t be an ungrateful brat, detka,” Wanda hissed out and leaned forward to take hold of your wrist, removing your grip around the edge of the desk. She pulled both of your arms back and held your wrists down against your lower back. She used the leverage to pull your ass against her hips with every thrust. Wanda removed the gag from your mouth and tossed her panties to the side somewhere. “That would’ve hurt so much more if mommy didn’t stretch your tight little pussy out earlier. Can’t you just be grateful for once? You hurt mommy’s feelings.” You could hear the feigned pout Wanda put on as she spoke.

Her hips snapped into you swiftly with incredible amounts of force. You supposed she was right. As painfully as her thick cock was spreading your hole open, you imagined you wouldn’t be taking her as well as you were if Wanda hadn’t spent the time to stretch you out earlier.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” you panted out, desperate to make it up to her even while you were quickly losing more and more of your own autonomy. As much as you wanted to be good for her, your walls were taking much longer to wrap around her than you anticipated. Wanda's was the biggest cock you'd ever taken. “It hurts…”

“Shut the fuck up and take mommy’s cock like a good girl. Be patient and let me use your pretty hole,” Wanda snapped. She took a bundle of your hair into her fist, pulling you further backwards and arching your back. It gave her a greater advantage to pound into you harder. "You're so fucking dramatic," she husked out into your ear.

“Mommy… Ah! Slo-w, please.”

Wanda raised her hand up to her ear and swung it back down to spank your ass before letting go of your hair. She leaned forward so her front cocooned your back as she pushed your face into the desk, her hand still on the back of your head. She whispered into your ear breathlessly, “Mommy can do whatever she wants. I own this pussy. Don’t you want to make me happy?” Her thrusts into you were ruthless, taking not even a single moment’s break since she first entered you. Wanda grunted into your ear softly with every snap of her hips. She buried her face into the crook of your neck.

Your whines and complaints soon became infrequent, then entirely nonexistent as pain dissipated to sole pleasure. Moans, high-pinched and needy, escaped you without restraint, although Wanda frequently pinched your clit to remind you to be quieter. Even though the classroom door was locked and her desk wasn’t in view from the door’s window, there was always a chance that your sounds would echo down the school’s hallways. The two of you were already taking a great risk with the rapid slapping of your skin.

A voice suddenly called into the classroom, “Ms Maximoff? Are you in there?” Everything in you froze, a dozen weights being dropped into your stomach.

Wanda grunted in annoyance at Carol’s presence. Her hips jerked forward rougher than the steady pattern she had been keeping earlier. “Mm. Miss Danvers has a spare this period. Should I ignore her, sweetheart?” she asked you, sounding condescendingly sweet.

You nodded immediately, your face still pressed into the desk as your hair remained grasped tightly in Wanda’s fist.

Wanda responded instantly as if she had just been waiting for your response in order to purposefully do the exact opposite of what you’d tell her. “I’m in here, darling!” She smirked down at you.

“Have you seen Y/N? I was looking forward to speaking to her about something after lunch, but I can’t seem to find her. Ms Romanoff told me she’d be with you,” Carol responded. Your mind was too fuzzy, your body buzzing pleasantly as you let Wanda fuck you the way she wanted to, to have heard the shy apprehension in Carol’s voice. But Wanda heard it clearly. The teenager truly was crushing hard on you.

Wanda let go of your hair and groped your breast harshly, her every irritation caused by the blonde athlete evident in the way she fucked you. She was fucking into you harder now, her eyes glaring at the classroom door as if she was about to burn holes right through it. Wanda focused back onto you and with her arm wrapped around your torso and the other around your hips, she lifted you up so you were being hugged by Wanda from behind. No matter the positions the two of you took, Wanda’s thrusts never faltered once. She twisted at your nipple painfully and pinched at your clit, and all you could do was lay against her like a good girl, hushed moans and mewls escaping you.

“In other words, she wants to fuck your needy cunt too. Do you want her, detka? I’ll call Carol in for you and take my cock out of your cunt.” Wanda was so possessive over you. The mere thought of anyone else but her wanting you drove her mad. You were hers to fuck, to masturbate to, to adore. Her perfect girl.

“I don’t want that, mommy. I only want you, please,” you begged, pushing your ass into her lap. Wanda grinned at your eagerness. You were such a filthy whore; your mind was almost completely fucked out, yet you still had enough in you to fuck yourself on her cock.

Wanda unwrapped her arms from around you suddenly, pushing you back down onto the desk as if you were a lifeless fuckdoll solely for your mommy to use. You let out a small whine at the impact. “You’re too little to make your own decisions, baby,” she told you, manicured black nails running down your lower back. “I’ll breed your fucking pussy and stuff you full of my cum so you’re mine forever. This is not a one-time thing, malysh. I’m going to force you to have my fucking children and you’ll be my pretty little housewife for the rest of your life. It matters little to me whether or not you want it.”

Her name tumbled from your mouth between breathless moans. You felt yourself nod obediently against the cold expanse of the desk. Images of being Wanda’s housewife flashed in your mind. Falling asleep in her arms, being the only thing Wanda thought about the very moment before deep slumber, and when she awoke in the morning with you cuddled into her chest. Having her come home after a tense day at work to let her stress out on you, slapping your face around as she fucked your tight hole until you were a shaking mess, and perhaps even while you were asleep, stopping only when she was satisfied.

You’d do anything to make that your reality.

“Tell that slut to leave and I’ll let you cum,” said Wanda. Her fingernails dug deeper into your skin and you wondered if she was pricking blood out of you. The thought was brief as your mind quickly zeroed in on one goal, and one goal only- cum on Wanda’s cock.

You tried your best to talk as if you didn’t have Wanda fucking you from behind, “Carol.”

“Oh, you’re in there?” the blonde responded. There was a rattle at the door.

Wanda chuckled at the horror that struck your face when you had forgotten for a moment that the door was locked.

“It’s locked!” Carol called back cluelessly.

You felt guilt clawing at you. She was such a nice girl, and-

“Can’t you do anything on your own? Or does mommy have to do it for you?” Wanda snapped from behind you.

“Sorry, Carol, I’ll have to… Mm!” You winced, pushing your ass further into Wanda’s hips. “Mommy…” you pleaded under your breath. Whether you were begging for her to fuck you harder, or to slow down entirely, you did not know.

Wanda’s hips were pounding into you faster, skin slapping as her hands forced your body down onto the desk. “You’re such a fucking whore, baby,” she whispered. Her fingers run goosebumps up against your back before she leaned forward to lay against you. She kissed your neck. Your hips were being pushed into the edge of the table, making them sting painfully. But you hardly paid any mind to it.

“Y/N? A-Are you okay?” Carol asked from outside.

Wanda pulled you up against her then spun you around. “Y/N has her hands tied, darling. You’ll have to come back later,” she answered for you. Under the door, Carol’s shadow disappeared dejectedly. You smiled gratefully at her and laid your head on her shoulder. Wanda hushed you and kissed the side of your head. “That’s a good girl. You tried your hardest to please mommy,” she cooed.

You nodded into the crook of her neck, arms wrapped around her waist as tight as you could manage. She smelled nice.

Wanda fisted your hair into her hand and pulled you up with her, forcing you to step out of your garments that had still been pooling at your ankles. Her cock slid out of you and she turned you around, kissing you until she pushed you against the closet behind her desk. She lifted your leg up, hooking her arm under your knee to allow her more access to pound into you. Her strap slid into you again with ease and she picked up her pace, fast and unrelenting. You were so full. She slid her hand under your black tank, pulling your bra down to grope harshly at your breast.

“Now, you can cum. My perfect princess. Make mommy happy.” Wanda whispered countless other soft praises into your ear, and your arms tightened around her waist, sole dependency on Wanda forming within you. She twisted your nipple painfully. Her long hair fanned out down your shoulders as she kissed your neck, nipping at every inch of your skin her mouth could reach.

Her thrusts became sloppier as she drew closer to her own high. She panted into your ear, letting you hear how close she was. Your hands tucked themselves under Wanda’s dress and found her ass, squeezing and pulling her into you. Wanda groaned in appreciation and bit at your earlobe with her teeth teasingly. While you pulled her hips into you, Wanda was able to grind her clit into the harness of her strap, bringing herself even closer to her own summit.

“Mommy, I’m going to cum,” you whimpered out, squeezing your eyes together tightly.

“Cum for me, princess,” Wanda said and kissed your cheek before continuing to moan into your ear. She hooked her arm under your knee more firmly, her nails scratching at the side of your thigh. She tucked her hand between your stomachs, then between your hips, where her fingers found your clit. With four fingers, she rubbed against your erect mound swiftly. If Wanda hadn’t tightened her grip around your leg a moment ago, you would’ve long melted to the floor like jelly.

You laid your head against Wanda’s. Your body was completely limp as you got your hole fucked relentlessly. Wanda scratched at you. She took the skin of your neck and collarbone between her teeth, then ran her tongue across each bite before kissing up your marked skin hastily. You could feel the way Wanda was grinding against the leather base of her strap’s harness as she was inching towards an orgasm.

Wanda raised your head from the crook of her shoulder and rested her forehead atop of yours, your eyes meeting viridescent orbs. Her eyes screwed together as she struggled out, “I’m coming! Fu-Fuck! Princess, I’m-”

Her fingers' movement against your clit slowed as did her hips, and her very last thrust before she was pushed over her edge was what you needed to reach your own hilt.

“That’s right, cum on my dick you fucking whore,” Wanda grunted out laboredly against your cheek through her climax. You raised your other hand to her shoulder. Your fingers dug into her, sharp pain shooting through to her skin, your fingernails piercing through the sleeve of her dress.

Wanda leaned forward to capture your lips with hers weakly. The two of you moaned into each other’s open mouths as you rode out your orgasm together, walls tightening around Wanda’s cock that was still shakily thrusting into your cunt. She took your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging at it as she pulled away.

There was a hazy but smug grin on her face. Wanda’s hands found your hips, letting your leg drop to your other. She pulled you from the closet door, leading you back to her desk. “My little baby can’t do anything without mommy, huh?” she said against your forehead before pressing a kiss there. With your face nuzzled in the crook of her neck, your arms were wrapped around her waist, completely dependent on her as your body trembled with the last tremors of your orgasm.

With her hands on your ass, Wanda lifted you up onto her desk. The slick that was sticky against your inner thighs dripped onto the desk’s cold expanse. Wanda pulled back from you and your arms tightened around her.

“No, don’t leave me, mommy,” you blabbered out desperately, burying your face further into her neck. Your mind was so light and fuzzy as you embraced the older woman.

Wanda laughed and kissed the top of your head. Her pretty princess was so needy. It was adorable. “Not gonna leave you, puppy. Just going to take my cock out of you, okay?” she reassured. You nodded and loosened your grip around her so Wanda could release the harness from around her hips. Her strap, glistening with your cum, dropped onto your pile of clothes. She wrapped an arm around your waist and stepped into the space between your thighs and with her fingers, she drew gentle shapes along your spine. With her other hand, she pet your hair soothingly.

“That was wonderful, baby,” Wanda told you and laid her head atop yours. “My little girl took mommy’s cock so well. Mommy’s perfect whore.” Her praises made you feel all warm inside. A satisfied, nonsensical murmur came from you, to which Wanda hushed. “Don’t talk. Just let mommy hold you, baby. Moya dorogaya devochka.”

“But you have a class…” you tried to protest.

There was about fifteen minutes before Wanda's next class started, and realistically, the two of you should’ve been getting ready soon. But Wanda didn’t want to do anything but hold her little girl, even if only for five more minutes. “We’ll think about that later. For now, just do what mommy says, baby.” From then on out, you were Wanda’s. Entirely hers. And she would do well to let everyone know about it. “You’re mine.”

“I know, mommy,” you uttered out happily against her neck before hugging her close to you.

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛᴡᴏ ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

The sun is annoying, and the world can survive without vegetables.

This is the conclusion you’ve drawn after waking up to warm, yellow rays that shine directly onto your closed eyes. You blink groggily, rubbing your tired eyes with a free hand while the other brushes your teeth. 

“Honey, you’re gonna be late!” 

You mumble out an incoherent reply to your mom from the bathroom, quickly tossing on a thin cardigan after rinsing your mouth to rid the intense menthol sting that lingers on your lips. Entering the kitchen once done, however, provides you with a delicious reminder of how amazing of a cook your mom is. 

You grab a fork, devouring the scrambled eggs on toast. Sriracha stains the plate as a result of your messy eating habits, placing the now-empty plate in the basin with a satisfied hum. “Thanks, Mama!” You grab your school bag and rush to the door. You pause at the small alcove before the door, stepping down and slipping on your shoes. 

“Bye, Mama! See you later!” You call out before shutting the door behind you. The walk to school is as usual, with loud car horns being beeped as people rush to work while you stroll past graffiti-filled walls on the side of buildings. The street outside your school is already crowded with various cliques chatting away, and you enthusiastically greet some of them with nods and half-smiles as you enter through the main gate.

You polish off your taco, throwing away your napkin after using it to wipe your lips of any grease stuck on them. You look up at the sound of your name being called, grinning once you see a short brunette walking down the hallway. “Morning,” You greet Nicole cheerfully, opening your locker and pulling out the textbooks and notebooks you need for the day.

“What’s with you today?” 

You hum at her question, glancing at her with a quick shrug as she scrolls through Instagram. Nicole’s the first friend you made here in Brooklyn High School after transferring here four months ago. She had been the first to approach you, asking to borrow a pencil after she forgot to bring hers to class. 

Like any other teenager being forced to move cities to somewhere completely new, you stick to her like glue after that, eventually infiltrating your way into her friend group. 

“You know me, studious and independent’s the vibe I got goin’ on,” You grin at Nicole, draping an arm around her shoulder and giving her an affectionate squeeze. She looks up from her phone with a frown, using her finger to push up her glasses which had slid down slightly from their usual perch on her nose.

“Don’t be so uptight,” You chuckle, nudging her side. She sighs, rolling her eyes in amusement instead. You’re interrupted from your conversation on where to hang out this weekend at your name being yelled out from a distance away. 

“Eyyyy, que pasa!” You laugh at Michael’s greeting as he comes up to you with an outstretched fist, bumping it gently after removing your arm from where it was resting around Nicole’s shoulders. “Have you studied for the quiz today?” He asks, slinging a casual arm around your shoulders while you walk down the hall with Nicole beside you. 

You hum with a quick shrug. “Think so?”

“Man, you gotta get your head down from the clouds, bro.” He chuckles, trying to move sneakily to stand beside Nicole, who simply holds up her hand, stopping him from coming any closer with a glare. He retracts the arm he’s about to sling around her shoulders with a sheepish grin, holding it up in surrender.

“Anyway,” He brushes off her clear rejection, focusing back on you, “I’m planning a hangout with a few friends to celebrate the end of exam season. You in?” You immediately nod with a wide grin, already excited at the thought of goofing around with your friends. 

“Of course, you’re invited too. Maybe we can have our own little hangout-” 

“I’d rather stab my right arm.” Nicole cuts him off with an angelic smile, though her venom-filled words elicit an amused laugh from Michael. “Ah, how I love that icy nature of yours,” He sighs with a shake of his head.

“Who’s coming?’ You ask absentmindedly, adjusting the two notebooks in your arms. 

“Jeremy, Ally, Geoff, Tiff, Miles…”

“Miles? As in, Miles Morales?” Nicole finally speaks, eyes wide in surprise.

“Who’s that?” You don’t recognise the name. The rest you’re familiar with, though. They’re all in Brooklyn High, just in different classes. You’d seen them in passing around the school, and they recognised you in turn as one of Michael’s friends. 

“Right, you don’t know him. He transferred a while before you joined. He’s in Brooklyn Visions now. Here,” Nicole holds up her phone to your face, and you squint at the picture on her screen. Huh. He’s kinda cute, you suppose.

“Cool. Guess we’ll meet during the hangout then.” You sit down at your desk, Michael sitting at the desk beside you while she takes her seat in front of you.

“Wait, how do you know Miles?” Nicole rolls her eyes as she turns around in her chair, placing her elbow on your desk as she leans on her palm. 

“He helped me out a couple of times.” She answers simply. Michael frowns slightly. “Were you two….?”

“Why? Are you going to be devastated if I say yes?” Nicole smirks. “Unfortunately, it’s actually because our moms knew each other.” She sighs, holding up her free hand to observe her nails.

Before Michael can respond, the bell rings to signal the start of classes. They pass by in a flash, and all too soon, you’re outside the door to the art classroom. You’re hesitant to enter, eyeing the doorknob as if it’d burn you as soon as you touch it. 

“Well? Will you stay outside collecting dust, or will you enter?” You flinch at the sudden voice, looking up to see Miss Dawson looking at you with an expectant gaze. Her arms are crossed, waiting for you to go inside. 

“Y-yeah, I was just about to, but then I realised I forgot my…. brushes?” 

“You stored them in my desk drawer last week because they were too heavy to carry home with you.” 

Damn it. You purse your lips, huffing at your forgetfulness. “Fine,” You mutter, grabbing the doorknob and turning it, walking to your usual corner of the room. You pull out your sketchbook and pencil case, leaning back in your chair and waiting for Miss Dawson to start her lesson.

“Today, I’ll be assigning you a task for your end-of-year exams. I know some of you are interested in building up your portfolio to apply for the Brooklyn Academy of Fine Arts or maybe even to other schools in different states.” You perk up slightly at the mention of art school, placing your hands on your sketchbook. Miss Dawson speaks slowly yet surely, looking at each student with pure conviction. When her gaze lands on you, you’re a hundred percent sure she can see every thought that crosses your mind, each doubt that lingers in your heart. 

“Your topic is, Your Favourite Scenery.”

Murmurs spread through the class, everyone looking at each other with worry. You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it in thought as you furrow your brows. Sure, the topic might seem simple enough on the surface, but the fact that it’s so broad is exactly what unnerves you.

Having a chosen topic is good as a guideline, even more so when you know precisely what your favourite scenery is. With the addition of inspiration and motivation, it’d be a breeze to complete.

The problem is, you have none of the above.

You’re not sure what scenery you enjoy, much less have a favourite. Sure, sunsets are pretty, and skyscrapers are cool, but not much really struck you as deeply. You’re made aware of Miss Dawson gesturing for you to come over to her desk, hesitantly standing up and walking there while everyone else is discussing among themselves about the topic given.

You part your lips to greet her, only to be cut off when she holds out her hand expectantly. You huff, handing her your sketchbook. She flips through the pages, frowning slightly when she sees the random doodles and mindless sketches until she stops on a specific one.

She hums, taking in whatever’s on the page. You can’t remember what you’ve drawn, but you’re more than reluctant to admit how much of a slump you’ve been in lately. It’s not like you can come into class, declaring your lack of talent whilst waving your hands in the air.

You focus on Miss Dawson's makeshift jar of pencils on her desk, recalling someone else gifting it to her for Teacher’s Day. The blunt nibs are a testament to how much she uses them, a bedazzled one drawing your attention. You pick it up, observing the tiny sequins firmly glued to the wood with a fascinated gaze. 

You flinch when Miss Dawson suddenly clears her throat, automatically moving your hands behind your back and focusing your attention back on her. “So, I assume you had an encounter with our city’s local hero?”

“How’d you know?” You ask, eyes wide in surprise. 

She simply turns the sketchbook around to face you, the sketch you’d made last night of Spiderman clear as day. Your cheeks warm, the drawing having slipped your mind. “Looking through your sketchbook, it’s obvious that you’ve been in a slump, honey. But this sketch…This is really good, maybe even one of the better ones you’ve done.”

“Thank you?” You’re not sure if she just complimented or insulted you. 

“Seeing him must have helped your inspiration somewhat, didn’t it?”

“I guess so. I dunno, it’s not like a switch I can turn on and off anytime I want.”

“Well, you’ll have to learn how to keep it on. And for this assignment in particular, I want you to focus not just on your favourite scenery. I want you to focus on what exactly makes it your favourite.” Miss Dawson hands the sketchbook back to you with a knowing smile, and you take it from her unsurely.

“Right…” You return to your desk with one dismissive wave from her hand, sitting back down with a defeated groan. You prop your chin onto your hand, staring at the sketch blankly.

An art slump is the worst. Besides, it’s just a drawing of Spiderman; although it is admittedly some of your best work, it’s not like you can just channel that again at the snap of your fingers.

You need inspiration. You need motivation. You need….a muse, which can only mean one thing.

You’re gonna attempt to find Spiderman.

Attempt #1: Have a friendly run-in!

“This is such a bad idea; why am I even trying to find a superhero? I’m literally just going to ask him to be my muse and he’s gonna say no, which is gonna be so embarrassing and I’ll never be able to show my face around here again and what if next time I’m being robbed he turns away because it’s me??”

“Okay, calm down. He’s not going to turn away because he rejected you, or he wouldn’t be a superhero. Also, you’re literally being paranoid because I’m not there with you.” 

You frown, pulling your phone away from your ear to check if it really is Nicole you’re calling. “That’s not true.”

“I know when you’re lying.”

“Okay, maybe I’m being slightly paranoid, but for good reason! Why can’t you just come with me? You’re good at getting people to do what you want.” 

Nicole’s soft chuckle somewhat relieves you, knowing she took it as a compliment. “I’d come over, but I have to help plan the outing with the group, remember? And I’m not the one with a ride to an Art Academy on the line - you are.”

“Wait, outing?”

“Yeah, remember this morning? You’ll meet Miles then; I think you’d get along. Anyway, you’ll do fine. Michael told me Spidey swings by the hotdog cart every Tuesday, so I guess it’s reliable information.” Nicole reassures you, though her last few emotions are filled with a tinge of doubt. She pulls the phone away to mumble something to someone, and you’re sure it’s an insult based on the irritated bite in her voice when she returns to the phone.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow then…” You say reluctantly, unwilling to hang up the phone.

“Yeah, bye.”

The monotonous dial tone greets your ears after Nicole’s curt goodbye. You shut off your phone, flipping your sketchbook to an empty page with a sigh. You rifle through your pencil case, picking up the sequined pencil you’d accidentally taken from Miss Dawson and tapping it against the blank paper.

Draw your favourite scenery.

You look around, taking in the vibrant green trees and serene lake, the joyful laughter of children and parents filling the air. It’s peaceful. Dogs wander around, some leashed and some set loose. One approaches you, but you wave it away, flinching when it gets too close for comfort. It’s no longer peaceful.

“You can go away now…” You mumble, poking its side to hopefully urge it to move away from you. Your legs automatically move up to the bench, drawing your knees close to your chest. “Shoo, bad dog! Where’s your owner?” You glance up to check if their owner is nearby, only for your bedazzled pencil to be snatched out of your hands.

“Hey!” You exclaim angrily, reaching out to grab it from the dog’s mouth. You hesitate when you see the dog drool dripping onto the end of the pencil, eyeing it with a shudder. You take a moment to steel yourself, grabbing the slimy end with as much force as possible, trying to yank it free from its mouth. 

“Let go of my stuff! That’s not yours! I have to return it to Miss Dawson, you stupid dog!” Your grip slips, and you land on the ground with a yelp, wincing when your knee gets scraped by the coarse dirt through your ripped jeans. 

“Give it back!” You demand, lurching yourself forward and grabbing the pencil again. However, the dog growls playfully, thinking of it as nothing more than a game for entertainment. “This is why,” You grunt between shallow breaths, “I prefer cats!”

Your sketchbook had fallen beside you, the beautiful cover now stained with dirt. You narrow your eyes into a glare, scowling at the dog. “Let go!” 

It finally does, maybe because it sensed that you wouldn’t be playing with it. You fall back once more, your back hitting the ground harshly. The breath is instantly knocked out of your chest, and you inhale deeply, trying to force more air back into your lungs with a choked gasp. 

You sit back up, holding the pencil up victoriously until you remember that there’s dog drool all over your hand. You groan in disgust, searching for a tissue to wipe it off. Wait. Your sketchbook is missing. 

You look around frantically, only to see the exact same dog from earlier now burying a half-open sketchbook into the dirt. Your sketchbook. A strangled yell rips itself from your throat, practically throwing yourself at it with a glare that could rival even Karen herself. You push the dog away, scrabbling at the dirt to uncover your almost completely buried sketchbook. 

“Bye, Spiderman!” Your head instantly turns at the sentence, spotting the familiar black silhouette nodding his thanks to the hotdog cart owner, his hotdog securely held in his hand. He flicks his free hand and shoots a web onto the side of a building, beginning to leave.

“Wait! I have a ques-” 

He swings off into the distance, already blocks away in the span of a few seconds without hearing your cry. Your arm falls to your side, collapsing back onto the ground to catch your breath while your sketchbook lies buried in the dirt. 

Damn it.

Attempt #2: Get Mugged!

“God, I hope this works,” You mumble. The streets around you are dimly lit, and you’re armed with nothing more than your bulky pencil case and a whistle, both stored in the deep pockets of your hoodie. The handbag containing your wallet and phone bumps against your waist, the strap loosely slung across your shoulder.

You’re the perfect walking target to be mugged.

Granted, this is probably one of the worst ideas you’ve had in the history of bad ideas. The chilly Brooklyn night breeze tickles your ears with an icy breath, and your body gives an involuntary shiver. You scan the empty streets hopefully. When was Spiderman – or better yet, a robber, going to show up?

Whether it was desperation or pure adrenaline driving you forward at this point, you couldn’t tell.

But you’re here, and you’re determined to see things through.

Minutes pass of you wandering the dark streets like a fool, and you’re just about to head back home when you sense that something’s off. Your steps slow, and you hear someone else’s shoes scuffle a short distance behind you. 

You start to speed up, fingers gripping the heavy pencil case in your pocket. You’d been hit by it before by accident and did not get away unscathed by any means. Your heartbeat quicks its pace in your chest, sensing them get closer with each step. 

There he is.

You finally spot Spiderman chilling on the roof of a nearby apartment building, breaking into a run. The mugger behind you grunts in surprise, and you hear him start to run as well. Your breaths are short and ragged, and you finally reach just below the building. 

“Stop right there, missy!” Looking up from where you’ve bent over to catch your breath, you see the sharp knife blade held up at you. The robber is slouching, just as out of breath as you are. However, he straightens his back and flashes you a yellow-toothed smirk from under his cap, and you shudder at the bits of dirt clearly seen in his beard. 

You hold your arms up in surrender, risking a quick glance up, only for Spiderman to jump down and land smoothly right in front of you. “Hey man, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play around with sharp objects?” He tuts, shaking his head as he uses his web shooter to tug the knife away from the robber.

The knife lands in his hands with ease, the robber immediately turning to flee. “I don’t like doing this bit, but you leave me no choice!” Spiderman does a quick frontflip and lands before the robber, grabbing his shoulder and tilting his head. “You should’ve known better,” You hear him scold, and spot a light blue electric current flowing from his fingers to the robber, knocking him unconscious. 

Spiderman lets go, taking a surprised step back as the robber falls to the floor, unconscious. He winces, dusting off his hands and walking toward you. “You shouldn’t come out here during the night,” He chides playfully, grabbing the knife that had fallen to the floor when he caught the mugger. “You’d be in a lot of trouble if I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah, thank you. Actually, I wanted to ask-”

“Whoop.” He cuts you off, glancing at his watch, “I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls! You’re gonna want to take a right down here, another left, and then one more right and you’ll be at the main street. Stay safe!” He gestures down to a more brightly lit street, patting your back before shooting his web shooter at a nearby building.

“Wait- Ugh,” You groan in defeat, watching him swing off again without hearing your question. Your arm is outstretched, fingers barely brushing against his arm before he leaves. 

DAMN IT.

Attempt #3: If he doesn’t stop and listen to the goddamn question, you’re going to lose it.

“Calm down, pinto.”

“I spilt pinto beans on myself, one time, people. One. Time.” You frown, crossing your arms. Nicole smirks, shrugging nonchalantly in response. 

“Yeah, yeah. Michael told me that he saw your Spidey boy swing around the taco truck down the street a couple times every Thursday, so we should keep a lookout. Don’t want your sketchbook taken away from you again, do we?” 

“How does Michael even know all this?” You mumble. 

“Look, we don’t ask him questions, and he doesn’t ask us any. It’s a two-way street, pinto. Use those brains of yours.” You shove Nicole lightly with a roll of your eyes. Falling back, she leans against a wall, immediately pulling out her phone and scrolling through it. 

God, she has a serious internet addiction. You choose to scan the crowd instead, your gaze sweeping over the kids from the Brooklyn Visions Academy filling the street, having just gotten out of their clubs. You look somewhat out of place with your own uniform, shuffling your feet slightly when they glance over with confused gazes. 

You raise your brows in response to a few of them, and they leave with a haughty scoff. You roll your eyes. Stuck up snobs, the lot of them. Hopefully, the information Michael provided is accurate, though you’re sure you’ll never know where he gets it from. 

“Hey, is the bowling alley chill with you for the hangout? Miles sucks at bowling, so we can team up to obliterate the boys.” 

“Sure,” You reply absentmindedly, only to pause and turn to face her. “Is he not free to meet up before, though? I’d like to get to know him first, so it won’t be as awkward.” 

“Nah,” Nicole frowns at her screen, “He’s busy on all the days I suggested. Something about homework and stuff. Maybe he’s turned into one of the snobs.” She puts her phone away with a snort. “Also, there’s your Spidey-guy.”

“What?” True enough, he’s at the taco truck right now, ordering a taco and waiting patiently. Spiderman has to have lunch breaks too, you suppose. You watch him tap his fingers against the metal table, bobbing his head along to a beat playing in his mind.

You grit your teeth, grab your bag and keep your now clean sketchbook, having wiped off all the dirt with a cloth and the best surface cleaner you own back home. Your eyes shine with a determined glint, practically marching through the crowd to him.

“Hey!” You stumble back, looking down at the bright yellow mustard on your pristine white shirt. “Are you kidding me?” You growl in frustration, looking up to see a girl dressed in the Brooklyn Visions uniform holding up her ruined basket of fries, the small toppled tub now on its side and most of the sauce on you.

“Watch where you’re going!” She huffs, looking at you with pure disdain. 

“Watch where I’m going? Watch where you’re going!” 

Oh God, please let him still be there-

Spiderman is holding his taco now, trying to slip away through the crowd. Your eyes narrow into a glare, pushing past the girl with a muttered apology, running as fast as possible to catch up to the superhero.

You spot him jogging into an alleyway, following suit. You stop, however, when you see that it’s empty. “What?” You mumble, looking around frantically for him. You hear a loud coo, looking up to see the very hero you’re looking for crawling along the wall of the Academy dorms. 

“Wha-?” Now you’re baffled. You watch him reach a specific window, using an arm to open it and enter before sliding it shut behind him. Three floors up and the last one down the hall. Got it. You run to the entrance, only to be stopped by a security guard.

“Woah, woah, woah. Only students of Brooklyn Visions Academy are allowed inside.” He chuckles, holding a hand in front of you to stop you from entering. 

“No, you don’t understand! I need to talk to someone inside.” You try to plead, but he merely raises his brows. 

“Okay, what’s their name?”

“W-well. You see, here’s the thing.” You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Mmhm. Come back when you have their name, and I’ll call them down for you, okay?” He dismisses you, using his hands to turn your shoulders around. He pats your back slightly, sending you on your way.

You frown, brows furrowing in thought for a way to get in. Maybe Nicole would have an idea. She’s eerily good at stuff like this. Your feet pound against the pavement in a steady rhythm as you run back to where you had left her waiting.

“Nic!” You call out, panting heavily once you reach the girl who’s still in the same position as when you left. “I need help; I gotta sneak into the dorms of the snob school.” You say through your gulps for air, your lungs screaming for more oxygen.

“You need to sneak in?” She asks, looking up from her phone with raised brows.

“Yeah. I can’t explain right now, but I really need your help.” You confirm breathlessly.

She mulls over your plea for a moment before shrugging, moving away from the wall and pocketing her phone. She stretches her arm above her head momentarily. “Stay here.” She orders before stepping out of the alleyway and out of your sight. 

You wait, albeit impatiently, tapping your foot as urgency consumes you. Nicole soon returns with the Academy’s blazer in her hands, tossing it at you with a grin. “Got it for free; you can keep it. I gotta go for a study session. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah, thanks, Nic.” She never fails to impress you every time. You thank her quickly before returning to the dorm entrance, wearing the blazer on the way. You halt once you reach it, keeping your head down and fastening the buttons securely, hiding the bright yellow stain on your shirt. 

God, it’s probably going to get onto the blazer too, you wince. Spotting a group of girls walking into the entrance, you jog over and stick close to them, walking past the security guard from earlier. 

Once you’re inside, your tense shoulders sag with relief, a massive weight being lifted off your chest. The atrium is pretty cool, but you don’t have time to admire any architecture right now. You glance at the two winding staircases, signs directing the students to the boys' or girls' side.

You recall the window being on the right side of the building, walking up the respective staircase. Luckily, not many students are around. Most of them have gone out. 

Third floor, last room down the hall.

You take the lift up, exchanging an awkward smile with another girl who’s clearly sneaking in as well. She gets off at the second floor, and you spam the button to close the lift doors. As soon as they close, you practically collapse against the wall with a long, drawn-out sigh of relief.

The lift doors open to the third floor. You peek your head out, looking around. Good, there’s no one.

Stepping out of the lift, you pause. Do you go right, left, or straight? From what you recall of the exterior structure, you’re pretty sure it’s the hall on your left. Steeling your resolve, you walk down the carpeted floor, your footsteps muffled. 

There it is, the room at the end of the hallway. You raise your hand, knocking on the hard wood once, twice, three times.

Silence is all that greets you.

“Is anyone there?” You call out softly. When no one responds, you grip the doorknob just to check. To your surprise, however, the door swings open with a single push, revealing the room inside. 

It wasn’t locked.

“Pardon my intrusion….” 

You step over a pile of clothes on the floor, your nose scrunching at the smell. Deodorant and musk fill the air. A picture frame sits on a desk to your left, with a photo of a short boy.

That can’t be him; his stature is too different.

Another picture sits on a small nightstand, and you pick it up to see a familiar face. The boy in the picture with his family is tall, with chocolate brown eyes and raven-black hair. You frown, tilting your head. Where had you seen him before…?

A soft thud draws your attention. Something had fallen to the floor from where it was squashed between the bedframe of the bunk bed and another piece of furniture. You bend down, picking it up. 

Spiderman’s mask hangs loosely in your grasp.

You look multiple times from the mask and the poorly-hidden suit to the picture, finally connecting the dots. You pull out your phone, hurriedly texting the one person who could confirm your surefire theory.

yo, Nic. send me the picture of the guy - Miles, i think? - Read, 2pm

Sure ig. dont go stalking him tho - Nicole, 2pm.

The strong vibration of your phone alerts you to a new text. You look down, thankful for Nicole’s fast reply. Opening the text, an image of the ever-so-elusive Miles Morales fills your screen. 

Oh my god.

Your eyes widen, your suspicions confirmed.

It can't be.

But it's the only explanation that makes sense. 

Miles Morales is Spiderman. Spiderman is Miles Morales.

You hide the mask back where it's dropped out of its hiding place, swallowing thickly when you hear the lift ding, making your swift exit.

Rushing down the hall, the last thing you expect is to bump against the very boy you’ve been looking for. You don’t dare risk a glance, recognising him just by his shoes alone. Ignoring his apology, you run off, making your exit.

Once you exit the dorm entrance, most of the tension leaves your body. Making your way back home, your mind reels from the discovery.

Miles Morales is Spiderman.

While you slip away from his notice, Miles spots something in his peripheral vision. His suit had fallen slightly out of his hiding place. Thinking nothing of it, he goes to stuff it back in when he sees a small spot of yellow on the side of his mask.

Yellow?

He brings the mask up to his nose and takes a sniff. His brows furrow at the familiar scent.

...Mustard?

He wipes it off with a shrug.

[addicted2wasps]

I suppose you all remember my Eutrichosoma mirabile cartoon from a while ago, but I wanted to challenge myself into drawing a realistic one. UGH, this was a total PAIN to draw! I had to restart many times! All the photos online are of dead specimens with legs retracted, and I had to really study how this wasp would look alive with the legs spread out. It still doesn't look "real" enough for my liking, but as this is probably my 5th attempt at drawing it, I suppose that will do for now. I certainly don't dislike it, but I'm probably just overtired and need a well-deserved break. Also, my new pencils are GREAT! :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 27

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: we can breathe because the workplace sloth is gone.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Right, can’t start the day without something to drink,” Hela struts in with two stemmed glasses of orange juice. “Not that I think we’ll need to work very hard. Darling, you are the perfect canvas.”

You twiddle your fingers as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. Mr. Laufeyson is perched in the armchair, his leg casually swaying side to side as he pinches his thumb to his index finger. You bite the inside of your lip as Hela nears and holds out a glass.

“For you, darling,” she insists, “ahem,” she faces her brother, “I don’t believe we require your presence, brother.”

“Hmm,” he tilts his head, “what do you mean? I have a good eye for colour. Given my line of work–”

“Oh yes, dusty artifacts and tacky antiques, please,” she scoffs, “this is a ladies’ matter. Besides, I didn’t bring enough prosecco for you.”

He squints up at her and retracts his hand to tap his chin. You sniff the orange juice, you smell more than just pulp. You don’t drink, or you never have. You don’t think you’ll like it.

“Always so generous,” he pushes himself to his feet, “I invite you to my home and you cast me out.”

“I won’t be taking manners on hospitality from you,” she retorts, “certainly, your house manager… is that what you call her? Well, she must know how welcoming you truly are.”

“Careful,” Laufeyson warns as their eyes bore into each other.

She cackles and flicks him away with her fingers as she spins on her heel. She smirks at you as she raises her eyebrows and sips from her glass. You peek over at Laufeyson and refrain from tasting your own.

“Don’t make me remove you, Loki,” Hela threatens, “let us not revert to childishness. We’ve enough of that in this family.”

He rolls his eyes and clutches his hands behind his back. He arches a brow at you. A wordless statement. Despite his sister’s orders, you obey him first and foremost. You lower your eyes sheepishly and listen to his soles click out of the room.

Hela startles you as she nudges the bottom of the glass, “go on. Loosen up,” she purrs, “I swear, my brother can be so uptight. This entire place is just as stiff as that rod up his… well, I shouldn’t say that.”

You try to smile and do as she says. You taste the orange juice tenuously. It’s not that bad. A bit sweeter than you expect and bubbly. You always heard alcohol burned. Hm.

“Now, what I would do,” she steps back and holds up a palm, “you could carry a structured shoulder. Oh, or asymmetric. Off-the-shoulder. A cinch here,” she comes closer and touches your waist, “a pencil skirt or cigarette pants.” 

She winks and eyes you up and down. She reaches to place her glass on the round end table near the end of the couch. She puts her hands on your waist and squeezes then drags them down to your hips.

“My, yes, you have a lovely shape under all that,” she praises as you squirm, “what are we looking for? To drive my brother absolutely mad?”

You blink wildly and sip once more, wiggling away to put your glass on the other side of the table lamp. “Just… for work.”

“Work,” she says skeptically, “sure,” she waves you off and goes to the rack of clothes, “come. I don’t mind giving an opinion but this is about you, darling. You choose for yourself. What catches your eye?”

You shyly come forward, rubbing your hands together. You’re not sure what you like better than the next. They’re all so pretty. There are pretty pieces you can only dream of wearing, they just wouldn’t fit you. The tight skirts wouldn’t be practical, how can you walk with your knees bound? And the white. That’s too easy to stain.

After some consideration but not much thought, your hand reaches out to feel a piece of magenta tulle. A sheer layer with polka dots over a satin liner. It’s really cute but maybe too much. You recoil and cross your arms.

“What do you think?” You ask quietly.

She snickers and grabs the magenta skirt, “I think this is gorgeous. A choice. That’ll go in the keep pile.”

“Oh,” you swallow.

“The colour will look marvelous on you, now something to go with it. I think this,” she pulls out a pale pink blouse with white detail on the shoulders, “balances out, but for an evening look,” she turns and retrieves a black camisole, “oh yes, this is lovely.”

You watch her lay each garment over the back of the couch. She pauses and crosses to the end table. She reclaims her drink and hands you yours. She drains hers and bids you finish your own. You do so with tiny sips. You’re still nursing the orange juice as she returns to the wrack.

“How about this?” She pulls out a pair of yellow pleated pants, “very bright but… very you, I’d say.”

“Nice,” you comment, “but… the colour.”

“Oh, I know my brother likes his muted tones but that’s his detriment,” she chides, “I think… oh, there are so many pieces. This,” she takes a strapless bodice with a large bow, “or this,” she chooses a plum satin blouse.

You just nod. You like the clothes, but you just struggle to see yourself wearing them. She turns to the large chest she had Mr. Laufeyson lug in and opens the lid. She presents several pairs of shoes. Flats, heels, booties, everything you could ever need.

“Darling, you must try this,” she holds up a sapphire dress, an off-the-shoulder cut sleeves that drape just off your arms. It’s calf-length and gorgeous. 

“I… that… no, I’d look–”

“Gorgeous,” she insists as she shoves it towards you, “go on, put it on.”

“Um, alright,” you put down your mostly empty glass and take the hanger. 

You feel the material as she picks up the stemmed glasses. “I’ll top us off and you get changed.”

“Oh, okay,” you turn but she stretches her arm out to stop you. 

“Here is fine,” she says, “you needn’t be shy with me.”

“I…” you don’t argue. She’s still Mr. Laufeyson’s sister and that means she’s more important.

You bow your head and turn away. You peer around as she sweeps through to the kitchen. You sling the dress over the couch arm and undress to your underwear. You shimmy up the dress and strain to push the zipper all the way up. 

As you bend your arm back painfully, the gate bell chimes. You flinch. You glance up at the ticking clock and your chest drops. Ronan! You look down at the half-zipped dress.

“Do you require some assistance?” The deep timbre rolls through you.

You squeak and face Mr. Laufeyson. His eyes glimmer as he takes you in. He grins and strides towards you, spinning his finger in the air. You put your back to him, if only to hide your embarrassment. 

He drags his fingertip down the bare skin of your back and sends a shiver along your spine. You press your hands to the fabric as he tugs up the zipper, the fabric drawing taut to your figure. His touch dances along your waist and up to your shoulders.

“Turn, let me see,” he commands.

“The carpenter–”

“Yes, yes, I’ll get to it,” he overrides you. 

You chew on your worries and face him. His eyes scan you head to toe and back again. His lips part slightly as you stand in bated silence. The gate bell buzzes again.

“Ugh, that is a nasty noise,” Hela appears again, “oh, brother, you just can’t help yourself. Go, mind your house, we are not even close to finished.”

“I can look,” he argues.

She scoffs and shoos him, charging at him and kicking out. He backs away, raising his hands defensively. He shakes his head and sneers.

“I’m going,” he sighs, “gods.”

He pivots and strides out. You watch after him, tingling strangely. You can’t tell if you're mortified or something else. You swear, you can still feel his touch along your spine.

“You certainly have your hands full with him,” she tuts, “though I hardly imagined I’d find a creature like you here. Please, don’t mistake my meaning. It is only, you’re not entirely his type. At least, from all I know of him.”

“I… I’m just the house manager,” you utter.

“Certainly,” she drawls and hands you a glass, “because a house manager requires the finest clothing, yes?”

“I…” you look at the glass. You don’t know what to say. You’re a terrible liar. So you won’t talk, you’ll drink and do what you’re told.

✨

You feel wobbly. The world won’t stay still as a giggle tickles in your chest. You don’t know what’s funny. Maybe it’s you. You look at your reflection. You look so silly in the flouncy peach skirt. It’s ridiculous.

“I can’t clean in this,” you hiccup to Hela as she stands behind you, admiring the mirror over your shoulder.

“Clean? Oh, babe, I hope not,” she places her hands on your shoulders, a gesture that reminds you of her brother. She does look and awfully a lot like him. Not Thor though, he’s the odd one out.

“That’s what I do,” you say dumbly, “don’t you know? I’m the maid.”

“Darling,” she hums and brings her hands to the sides of your face, pressing herself to your back, “I don’t think that’s the case anymore.” She caresses your cheeks then your neck, “you’re too pretty to be just the maid.”

“Pretty?” You bat your eyes and tense up.

You pull away from her. You don’t believe that. You can’t. Whatever she’s up to, is just another part of Laufeyson’s tricks. He likes those.

You cross your arms and flop down on the sofa. You stare at the beige heels on your feet. You pout and shake your head. That bubbly feeling bursts and you deflate. 

You bend forward and clutch your head. You feel so heavy, as if you might sink right through the couch and floor. You sense her come near and the cushion beside you dips. You wince as she puts her hand on your back.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I only meant… well, you really are a pretty girl. If anything, I wonder what you’re doing with him,” she says, “you know, he’s so moody. Especially since the divorce, I don’t know how anyone–”

“What was she like?” You whisper, surprised by your own question, though she doesn’t appear to be.

“His wife? Oh, Sif, yes, she was… her own person. That was likely the problem,” he hums, “you shouldn’t worry about her. Trust me when I tell you, he is well and truly past that.”

You nod and sit up, “I’m sorry. I’m…” you blink, “dizzy.”

“Mmm, babe, you are a lightweight,” she reproaches, “you should’ve told me.”

“I’m— I don’t drink. He does. He drinks and he gets all grouchy and he says things. Confusing things,” you ramble without control. She’s right. You’re drunk and stupid, yet you can’t stop yourself.

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” she chuckles. “He sure does know how to make a mess of things, doesn’t he?”

You shrug. You can’t blame him for the mess. It’s your fault. 

“Who doesn’t like some chaos,” she puts her hand on your leg, “I can see what he does. Such a fragile little thing.”

She pets your leg and you watch her fingers as they move in your fuzzy vision. Her nails tickle you through the skirt. She pushes her shoulder against yours and reaches with her other arm to grasp your chin. She turns your head, leaning in.

“A nice little doll to dress up and play with,” she sings before her lips crash into yours.

You let out a squeak. What is she doing? Your eyes round as her tongue pokes at your lips but you keep them sealed, horrified. She’s beautiful but you don’t expect it. What do you do? Why is she doing this?

She parts, staying close, “you’re delicious,” she pushes her hand between your legs, “come on, let’s have a little girl’s time.”

She dives in to kiss you again. You’re too dazed and flustered to fight her. You squeeze your eyes shut, your thighs too as she drags her hand upward. She pushes you down, twisting your body so your back meets the cushion as your legs remain hooked over the edge. You gasp as you free your lips from hers.

“What Loki doesn’t know–”

“Hela!” Her brother snarls as if summoned by his name. 

You exclaim as she hisses and her eyes roll to the ceiling. She pushes herself off and pats her lips with her knuckles. Her dark lipstick is smeared, likely on you too. You stay as you are, paralysed, as she stands to face Mr. Laufeyson.

“We were just getting to know each other,” she says breezily.

“You certainly were,” Laufeyson approaches her staunchly, “you swore–”

“Oh, you know better,” she drawls flippantly.

“And I thought you would, especially–” he stops himself and growls. “Can I not trust anyone in this forsaken family?”

“It’s a bit of fun–”

“For who?” He challenges.

You sit up and touch your forehead. Your lashes flick as you try to see straight. Laufeyson sidesteps his sister and glares at you. You cower. He has to know, you wouldn’t do that.

His eyes search as his forehead furrows. He fixates on the end table then turns on Hela, “how much alcohol did you feed her?”

“She had two mimosas. It’s hardly a lethal dose.”

“Don’t,” he wags his finger at her. “You shouldn’t have given her any.”

“You didn’t say–”

“I shouldn’t have to teach you common sense,” he snaps.

“Now, don’t be vile. I came all the way here–”

Their argument stirs in your chest, roiling hotly. You don’t like fighting or anger. Your hands shake as you wring them and you fight the burning behind your eyes. You stand unsteadily and rock.

“I have to clean,” you say.

The siblings stop and turn to look at you. Hela gives a slanted smirk as Mr. Laufeyson frowns. He sighs and strides forward to grab your wrist.

“No, you need to sober up,” he declares.

“Oh, boo,” Hela sneers.

[nininikki]

some help — c. springer

content warnings: sfw! fluff, suggestive (allusions to sex), math, tired/horny drug dealer!connie

author’s note: save me hazel-eyed drug dealer…hazel-eyed drug dealer save me…😔

“are you gonna come to bed? like, at all?” you droned, letting the silky fabric of your robe droop off your shoulders and down to the crooks of your arms in half-exhaustion. “you’ve been counting that money for, like, two fuckin’ hours.”

your boyfriend, sat on your guys’ couch with a notepad in one hand and a wad of cash lazed haphazardly in the other, looked up from the seemingly trigonometric equations scrawled against the paper. the concentration that once burdened his brow softened at the sight of you, clad in lingerie that had been rendered almost useless by the amount of time he’d kept you waiting. “i know, i know. just a lotta numbers tonight.”

connie was usually an ace with numbers, something you came to realize (and greatly appreciate) when he’d actually completed an unfinished page of your trigonometry homework after you’d fallen asleep amid the eleventh question. “would a fresh set of eyes help?” you asked, heading for a spot on the couch, but connie’s legs immediately parted to make space for you on his lap.

the pretty hazel tone of his eyes fogged with tiredness, and all it took was a, “shittt, i mean, you can try.” before you were plopping onto his lap and retracting his mechanical pencil from behind his ear.

“okay, okay. let me see…” you murmured, “forty percent of ten thousand four hundred and twenty-two…” avoiding a math-induced headache, you skimmed over the calculation he did to find the percentage and skipped right down to the part covered in hastily scrawled question marks: ten thousand four hundred and twenty-two minus four thousand one hundred and sixty-eight.

it didn’t seem to be anything more than simple subtraction, and for a moment you thought he was pulling your leg, but a quick glance over to his visibly stumped face told you the complete opposite. “see, the paper says four thousand one-twenty, but i counted one-forty.”

upon further examination, which only took about five seconds, the root of connie’s issue seemed to be staring right in your face. “babe, you forgot to carry your one.”

his frown deepened, and then relaxed in understanding. “…oh,”

you felt his arm snuggle you closer into his body, and with that, makeshift contentment running through his chest in the form of a low grunt. “you know what you need?”

at the feeling of your acrylic nails gliding down the nape of his neck, his eyes off the notepad and onto you for a refreshing five seconds. “what?”

“some help.”

“help?” your face, contorted with puzzlement, morphed into one of playful realization when connie’s fingertips breached the hem of your robe.

“yeah,” connie softly groaned, punctuating it with a kiss to the corner of your lips. “gettin’ up outta this.”

[vmpiires]

„𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, lil bit of sex, nun too heavy. teasing, some whimpering, dom!reader. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; separuhpuding. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 3.1K

: ̗̀➛ plot aspects inspired by;; @selfishdoll (good ass writer,, i recommend)

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; ngllll i was writing the smut in gym class. i was INTO it. but its nothing heavy…just a lil nasty nasty 🌚 this was my first time writing for choso BUT THIS MAN SO FINE. i hope ya enjoy ittttt

you and choso were roommates. it wasn’t surprising. you both went to the same college, you were good friends. nothing was wrong with that. but you were wondering what went wrong…why the two of you drifted apart.

“morning, choso!” you beamed at the 5’11 male sitting on the couch, his violet irises looking intently at his paper, loosely holding the pencil between his fingers. “Smoke Break-Dance” by JID played quietly on the speaker beside the tv, you noticed. you smiled a bit. choso must’ve been picking up on your music taste…or it was conveniently playing and he didn’t realize.

the male finally glanced up at you, registering your presence and lifted his hand, replacing actual words.

you plopped down beside him, making the side you sat on sink downward underneath him. his violet irises dragged to their left to look at you.

“whatcha doing?” you smile.

choso could never get over your soft voice and playful attitude. it always made him feel like he was doing something wrong. was he too boring? was it the fact that he hardly had any energy to do anything at all and he just laid around majority of the day? he didn’t know himself.

“writing…” he said quietly. “writing a poem…”

a couple months into your junior year of college was when he told you he loved you. he couldn’t explain himself but that’s what he was feeling all that time you stayed with him.

when you came around, he had a weird feeling in his chest when he saw you.

‘this body is betraying me’ he thought. he thought it was odd to be feeling this way about a human. a woman at that.

choso was a bit possessive of you. he enjoyed your company but grimaced at the men that came into your vicinity. the male watched from a distance, swallowing his urge to burst into a fit of rage but it would completely ruin his calm image.

“it’s fine,” yuji shrugged, waving his hand at his big brother, “that’s your girl, of course you’d be upset at another dude talking to her. it’s completely fine. don’t get so aggy.”

choso was happy to have his little brother, yuji there to comfort him when we was too nervous to confront you about the situation. from simple situations like this all the way to why he had an odd feeling between his legs when he kissed you. he didn’t think the rod that hung down in his lower area would be used for more than just using the bathroom….until yuji said so.

your “first time” was pretty interesting. it consisted of choso asking you if you were okay or if he was doing it right, to which you replied “yes” each time followed by a moan. you were wondering if he had done this before but you chose not to get into it.

more time goes by and then that’s when you realized that you were drifting apart.

choso was pursuing a career in art. drawing realistic portraits, using his heaven sent abilities to make drawings that looked like davinci had created them.

you were attempting to be a nurse, so you were off campus a lot, spending time at other hospitals to do “hands on” learning. neither of you had much time to talk to each other, though you sent texts back and forth assuring each other that everything was okay.

choso’s pupils retracted, hearing the sudden news of you wanting to break up with him. it was like he was going into shock.

“don’t you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?” he said, his deep voice breaking. you never heard him sound so broken before. the moment almost made you cry yourself. the male gently took your hands, his sad eyes looking into yours, searching for an answer. but there was nothing.

“Y/N please…” you felt his grip on your hands get a bit tighter. you kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with him to refrain from making yourself cry in front of him.

you were gone and that was the end of it. you left your favorite person with his heart hurting, making him feel like he had to throw up. it was like his whole world had went cold, now that you weren’t in it.

two years passed and you haven’t seen choso. you were starting to forget about him. there were some physical features about him that you forgot too…like the way he looked bored all the time or the fact that he always had his hair in two buns and occasionally letting it all the way down.

you went on about your day while choso was probably in his room crying his eyes out, falling into a depression.

you heard a knock at your apartment door. you were confused at first because you weren’t expecting anyone to come over and a select few people knew where you lived. you put on a pair of joggers after walking around in nothing but an oversized hoodie and a pair of ankle socks.

the moment you opened the door, a set of hands clasped onto your waist like a corset and pulled you closer to the owner of those said hands. you were pulled into a really tight hug.

you melted in this person’s arms. their touch, the way they smelled, their warmth…you missed it. your arms wrapped around them, returning that hug. you could feel your scleras burning as tears began to form in your eyes.

memories of choso flooded back into your mind like a tsunami consuming an entire city. salty lines of tears slid down your cheeks and you held the male a bit tighter than he was holding you.

“i’m so sorry, cho.” you cried. “i didn’t mean to hurt you the way i did. i didn’t know what i was doing and—”

you were immediately cut off by a kiss. you had a storm of emotions swirling through your body, your eyes traveled up to the male after he pulled away from you.

a tired smile was flashed at you before you heard him say something just above a whisper, his deep voice startling you a bit.

you forgot about that.

“don’t apologize.”

“but i left you alone for so long. you aren’t upset? you not feeling some type of way about me?” your voice shaking from your recent crying.

“no, i’m not angry.” choso said, his hand sliding down your arm to hold yours. “it’s been two years…and i waited until you were ready.”

“i was told that i should be patient and i shouldn’t try to hold you back.” he added but his words only made you cry even more. he waited for you? he could’ve found so many other women and he waited two years for you?

“why did you wait? you could’ve found someone else to replace me, you know that?”

the violet eyed male just shrugged. “loyalty. if you needed a century, i’ll wait for you.” choso’s loyalty was that of a dog waiting for its owner to return after being gone for hours on end.

having nine other brothers, choso knew what loyalty was and it was something he valued heavily. but most importantly, he valued you. your safety. everything.

“good job, cho!” yuji grinned as he threw his arm around the taller male’s waist. choso’s head swung around, his hair flowing with him and looked at the other, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“i knew you could do it.” he continued.

“why are you even here…?” choso queried, putting on his awkward smile. you just watched with a smile on your face as the pair of brothers chattered until it faded into playful bickering.

later that day, you and choso were at your apartment, in your bedroom relaxing after yuji convinced the two of you to hang out with him for the day. choso was reading a book called “The Art of War”. you enjoyed when he read aloud to you. even though you were getting a bit bored, you didn’t wanna tell him that.

you were getting impatient. needy even. you missed being so close to him and being touched by his hands that looked two times the size of yours. abruptly, the book closes before choso would kiss you passionately as if something had possessed him. his lips were pressing against yours. he didn't say anything, his breath was heavy. everything was blurry to him.

choso held you tight against him, his hands moving to caress your waist. he was no longer thinking straight. he kept kissing you. he was drunk off of the feeling. but he cared about your lips. they were soft and plushy. he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt something as good as this.

soon, his hands moved to your neck. he caressed your throat, tenderly. his head was swimming, filled only by the feelings he had for you. kissing turned into biting, and biting turned into licking, and licking turned into kissing again. his lips were everywhere on your body. all he wanted was you.

there was no talking anymore. only the sound of the two of you breathing. you were breathing fast, filled with excitement. the way choso was looking at you was driving you crazy. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

he was caressing you from top to bottom, his lips kissing every part of you. it was...perfect. he was yours, you were his. it made sense. what else did you need?

“you're so beautiful..." he whispered. “...so perfect.”

you felt his bare chest against yours. his body was hot. it felt incredible. you were lost in the pleasure, and there was no returning. it was too late to stop. choso wanted you and you wanted him. It was too good to be true. his hands were touching you everywhere, teasing you, making your blood pump faster, making you moan.

he made you moan loudly. his lips and tongue were everywhere. your whole body was shaking. everything felt amazing. every sensation was magnified by a hundred. the smell of his skin, his voice, his moans in your ear...it made you feel like you were going to go insane.

the male was holding both of your wrists. he was looking at you with lust. he didn't care about anything else. you were feeling so good you were unable to think anymore. your heart was pumping like crazy, your legs were shaking.

he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your breasts. his hands were everywhere on your body. he wanted you badly. he couldn't control himself. he was all over you. he didn't care if it was a little dirty. his hands were exploring every inch of your body, making you moan and scream loudly.

he took off your clothes while his eyes kept scanning your body. soon, you were both naked. you looked at each other's body with lust and excitement. you knew how right this was. nothing else mattered. all of your senses were focused on this moment.

the room was flooded with the sound of both your moans and your breathing. your body was hot, your mind was fuzzy. you were not yourself anymore. you were a different being, full of sensuality.

choso was looming over you now, looking down at you with burning passion in his eyes. he was holding your wrists tightly and staring at you, his muscles twitching, as if he was imagining what he'd do to you. you could feel his breath on your neck, your collarbone... you could smell him.

his fingers were kneading your skin, his hands were sliding all over your body. he wanted to possess you. he was devouring you, slowly, passionately, thoroughly. his hands were feeling you, exploring you, learning you. he was learning how your body was shaped all over again, to better pleasure you.

he was slowly moving his tongue against your thighs now, kissing his way up your body. your heart was beating faster and faster. you could hardly breathe. he was taking his time, but he wasn't playing games with you. he wanted you to enjoy this.

he was caressing your inner thighs, kissing them, licking them, making your legs shake. you couldn't remain silent anymore. you were overwhelmed by desire. he was in control, controlling you in the most delicate way possible, making you surrender to his will.

you began reaching down to choso’s lower area, gently caressing the length that he had been hiding from her. you bit your lip as you stared in awe and pure excitement.

he had no words. his lips were quivering as he stared at you. he was feeling you, feeling your desire. he wasn't thinking about anything else in this moment. he was in awe, in total disbelief. he was breathing furiously as he looked at your hand, moving slowly down.

he closed his eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation. a moment later, he opened his eyes, staring at you. his expression was intense. his face was flushed. he wasn't saying anything. all he could do was stare at your hand, moving so slowly up and down...

you moved your hand away for a moment, teasing your partner. choso couldn't help but moan loudly, feeling his heart pound so aggressively. he was addicted to your touch.

he looked at your face, still flushed, wanting to see you enjoying this moment as much as he was. your hand was moving up and down again, so slowly and... so seductively. it was too much for him, but you weren't stopping. you wanted to see him beg.

he could feel it. he was so close to the edge. his whole body was shaking, his breath was rapid. he was holding his breath, unable to control himself. It was taking so long, it was too much for him. he wanted you so badly, and you were making him wait. and you were enjoying it all.

he was so desperate, so hot, so ready to explode any second now. he was looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Y/N... i can't... anymore..." you heard choso mumble.

your eyes narrowed. he was yours, and you were in control. you were loving every second of it. you put your hand back on him and looked at him with a mischievous smile.

“wait a little bit more,” you said, still keeping your hand moving up and down. your free hand went to his mouth to stop him from talking. “be a good boy for me.” you added, with a sultry voice.

he was almost begging you to stop at this point. you were torturing him, playing with him. you had absolute power over him, and you loved it. you didn't want to give in just yet. you were playing with him, enjoying every second of it. it was such a thrilling feeling. you wanted him to suffer a little longer.

he was holding himself, trying to remain calm. the sensation was getting to his head. it was too much. he was starting to feel weak, his legs were trembling, and his hand was shaking.

he was shaking. he tried to move, to get away from your hand, but you were stronger. you held him tight. you were making him wait for your final touch, making him beg for it. he was so vulnerable, so at your mercy.

he was losing control, not able to think, not able to say anything. his breath was racing, his body was shaking, his mind was empty. all he could feel was you. your hand touching him, teasing him, driving him crazy.

choso was breathing heavily, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. he couldn't take it anymore. he turned his head away, hiding his trembling body. his body felt overwhelmed, so close to the edge.

“i can't... please,” he mumbled, his voice barely understandable through the moan. his eyes were closed tight, his face buried in the pillow.

you felt like the goddess of lust, controlling choso’s mind and body, as if he was a puppet in your hands. his voice, his breath, his body were all yours to control. you had broken him, and you were loving it. your whole body was shaking, just a lot less than his, but you still felt incredibly empowered.

you put your hand down again, but you didn't move it anymore. you kept it on him, looking at his face. “not yet,” you whispered.

choso was breathing fast, staring at you. his eyes were so full of lust, desire and love. he could barely move, his body was so tense, so close to the edge, shaking as if he was about to explode.

you were in complete control of his body and of his mind. you were enjoying this. watching him like this, looking at you, wanting you... it was delicious.

you could do anything you wanted with this weak and sensitive boy. literally anything. you could make him beg, you could make him shout. you could do whatever you wanted with him.

your hand was still touching his body. you kept looking at his face, drinking his expressions of love, lust and desire. you were loving watching him like this, enjoying your power over him.

you moved your free hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. you could feel his breath on your skin. he was trying so hard to remain still, but you could see he was shaking, his body so tense.

“don't move,” you whispered to him, with a provocative smile on your face. “stay still for me, boy.”

his heart was beating so fast. he was saying your name like it was the only thing he knew. he was looking at you, but he could hardly keep his eyes open. tears welled up in his eyes from pleasure. he physically couldn’t handle it but he wanted more of it. how could he resist you? you made him feel so weak in this situation. he felt dizzy. his entire body feeling numb.

soon enough, ropes of white substance spewed from his manhood and he was completely out of breath. choso laid down on top of you and you moved your hand away from him, putting your arms around him.

he’d kiss your lips gently before tucking his head into your neck and closing his eyes.

“i missed you so much.” he said quietly.

“i missed you too.” you replied before your eyes closed, falling asleep after your high died down.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚