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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 months

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trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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diaryofaprettyprincess · 5 months

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older!simon 'ghost' riley x inexperienced!girly!younger!reader where there's a size difference and u two finally have sex..

(pt 2 to this)

warnings: size difference (simon is 6'10 in this hehe reader is a good amount shorter and smaller than that), fem!reader, afab!reader, nicknames, penetrative sex, cowgirl sex position, p0rn without plot basically, some ddlg usage, reader calls simon 'daddy' a few times, talks of oral sex (fem receiving), age gap (about 10 years but READER IS LEGAL) , fluffy type of smut, dirty things beware >.<

note: this is more of a blurb n less of a full fic but hope u enjoy!! more stuff is comin out with simon n konig !! my requests r open so feel free to send any ideas there ALSO I KINDA HATE THIS BUT whatever<3

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

your brain already was coaxed into a mush after your first orgasm where your boyfriend sucked and rubbed on your engorged button until you were squealing and seeing stars.

now, you sat on ghost's hardened cock, ur wet cunny dripping onto it which made his light pink tip twitch with hunger.

"remember, bunny," he had whispered as he moved your pliable body to your current position. "we'll just go slow, mkay?" his gruff voiced cause ur skin to prickle with goosebumps as you nodded, your mind not all there after your numbing climax.

u absent-mindedly rubbed ur sopping, hot cunt on his erect cock, bitting ur lower lip and closing your eyes. you accidentally tuned simon's words out--hyper fixating on the pulsing that pounded between the apex of your pudgy thighs.

your toes curled in your thigh-highs as you stabeled yourself on your boyfriend's large tattooed, scarred chest.

your hole clenched around nothing as your needy cunt dragged its swollen lips and engorged button on simon's length. you were so, so gone until--

"baby," ghost hissed gently, stilling your movement on him with his large hands. "'m talkin' to ya..did y' hear what i said?"

u whined softly, a quiet protest to him stopping you from pleasure.

he kissed your pouted lips, taking one of his hands off of you to wrap his inked, muscled bicep around your body as you replied back with a shy and squeaky, "..no.."

a deep rumble in his chest from his short chuckle made the blush on your face deepen.

"was just sayin' that if it gets ta be too much for ya we can try again later, mkay?" his voice was so incredibly gentle and soft that you weren't sure if you wanted to cry or cream (lol). instead, you sighed dreamily, chewing on the fat of your swollen lower lip as you admired him. the scar at the corner of his mouth that made his smile more prominant. his blonde hair that was almost a darker brown. the tattoos that inked his body. his plump, pink lips--dark eyes and strong jaw and nose. the stubble on his jaw. you absent-mindedly played with his hair (eyes almost in the shape of cartoon-hearts if it were possible), and you could feel the way he leaned into your hand abit as his fingertips gently ran along your spine, soothing your desperate trembling. you finally nodded to his question, your chest pressing against his tattooed and scarred one. god, he was so strong and warm. "mk daddy.." you whispered, and that was a tell-tale sign for simon that you were already gone. he smiled softly, gently squishing your cheeks to create a pout, inked hand--bringing your lips closer to his.

"gonna be gentle with ya, but you hafta trust me, okay bunny? love y' so much." he murmured against your lips, his own hunger for you growing to a dangerous rate as you kitten-licked inside of his mouth. you nodded, your voice high as you whispered a mushy little, "mk. trust you, si.. lub u too.." against his mouth.

simon made his way from your soft lips down to pepper light kisses on your collar bones as his large palms held your body so nicely.

he leaned back a bit, your lips attached to his as he held your hips; lifting your lower body up a bit as you grinded gently on him like a kitty in heat.

to allow himself to adjust his cock with your sloppy hole, he lifted your hips up a bit more, and in your floaty state you could not help but grind against nothing--desperate whines and mewls escaping your kiss-bruised lips. simon meanly chuckled, his cock throbbing as he instructed you to sit up a bit.

"daddy, 'm achey.." you sniffled, pouting. simon's left hand massaged your side as he stroked his cock three times before bringing you forward briefly to plant a kiss on your lips.

"i know sweet girl, gonna make ya feel better, m'okay?"

you nodded sitting up a bit so he could line his tip up with your messy cunt.

he rubbed his hand over your right nipple, squeezing the fat of your tit as your hands groped from his chest to his hand, to his tattooed forearm.

he could feel the heat coming off of your cunt, and he tried not to lose it and immediately pummel his cock into you.

you were just so delicate.

he would never want to hurt you.

"alrigh' slowly.." his voice sounded so soft and grumbly, it made you want to rub your button against him until you saw stars. but you had to focus.

you began to sink down, simon holding you up as you whined. a bulge already forming in your belly as you whimpered at the ungodly stretch.

your boyfriend sat up, taking your lips in his for sloppy kiss before you interrupted it with a small little squeak, "a-ah!" eyebrows pulled upwards as you cried. he kissed your lips slowly but hungrily--as if trying to eat you whole.

his big hands held your hips and waist, stopping you for a moment so you could take a breath.

"shh, slower, bunny, sink d-down slower," you began to sink down again, slower this time as you took all of him. "good girl, bunny. tight cunny takin' me s-so well.."

#ghost cod #simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #coquette #simon riley x innocent!reader #older!simon riley x reader #older!simon riley #older!ghost #older!ghost x reader #girly!reader #inexperienced!reader #simon riley x inexperienced!reader

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fettuccin-e · 6 months

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Just This Once

Kinktober Day 18: Squirting + Dacryphilia

Tags: Din Djarin x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it before you tap it irl), fingering (r!recieving), squirting, light dacryphilia, Din being feral but also emotionally stunted (w/c: 1.7K)

A/N: Guess who fell behind on Kinktober again, womp womp. I will not give up though!! I am determined to finish, so please enjoy this Din fic that I may or may not have gotten too invested in while writing it and stay tuned for some more filth coming (and cumming hahaha) soon!! (for Kinktober I have been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)

There’s something about the coldness of space, the loneliness of it, that makes you so desperate.

When the Crest is quiet, the baby asleep, all you can feel is the vastness of the universe around you, your body cold and needy for touch. And Maker, the Mandalorian notices immediately, the way you cross and uncross your legs in the seat behind him, curling your fingers into your thighs as the stars fly past the ship. You don’t mean to be obvious, but Din always notices.

He knows how to treat you when you get like this, all needy and desperate for his touch, even when you don’t want to admit it. Din is willing to admit that you are far more than just a friend to him, but you both narrowly avoid the strength of the feelings between you both, the bond that drags you together. But still, Din knows exactly what you need, and he has absolutely no problem giving it to you.

He has you splayed across his lap, your back pressed against his chestplate, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. He’d lost his gloves the moment you’d peeled off your pants, his hands the only skin he’ll allow himself to touch you with. It’s a wonderful loophole for you, but an exercise in torture for him. He wants to feel your back pressed against his bare chest, trace his lips down your neck. Wants to feel your heartbeat against his, quick and warm and alive.

This is the Way, he reminds himself, despite knowing, deep down, that he’s already broken something just by touching you without his gloves. But stars, how can he resist when your pretty, desperate little cunt pulses beneath his fingertips, begging for more, more, more.

He ghosts his fingers up the slick seam of your pussy, and has to hold back his own groan at the way you whine, pressing back against him as your hips twitch uncontrollably.

“Stars, you’re wet,” he grunts, pressing a thick finger into your entrance, already gaping with your need for something, anything to clutch onto. “Needed me this bad, cyar’ika?”

“‘M so- so empty, Din, fuck, it’s like,” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he starts fucking you with that one thick finger, feeling it drag across your walls. “It’s like I can’t fucking breathe without you touching me, Maker, I need it all the time, Din.”

And it’s true. When you’d first started traveling with Din and the baby, you’d barely even noticed the loneliness. You’d been lonely your whole life, eager to escape your desolate little planet and see the stars.

But then Din had done this for the first time, when tensions had run too high, when things had gone just a little too far.

“Just this once,” he’d muttered, “Can I touch you?” he’d asked, and you’d said yes without a thought.

He’d peeled off his glove, touching your face gently, so gently with those calloused fingers. He’d laid you out on his small mattress, pressing the front of his helmet to your forehead as he let his hand roam the expanse of your body, squeezing your skin over your clothes before brushing them over your clit through your pants. When you’d jerked up and moaned, he could only let out a shaky exhale through his visor as he rubbed tight circles into it, enraptured by the way you whimpered and squirmed beneath him.

“Just once,” he kept muttering, even as he worked one, two orgasms out of your body, “just once.”

Except it happened again. And again. And again.

And now you can barely sleep without wanting, needing Din to touch you. He hasn’t fucked you; there’s an unspoken rule that he’s broken enough of the Creed for you, telling you his name, touching you like he does. You don’t question it, not when you’re the one getting fucked on his fingers until you’re in tears, ravenous for his hands on your body.

It’s like it gets worse as time goes on, your need for him. Even now, pressed against his chest as his thick thighs spread you wide for his hands, it’s like the first time. You writhe against him as he works another finger into your hot cunt, your slick covering his hand. You hump forward into them without meaning to, and you turn your head to tuck it into his cowl as he works you over.

Din fucks his fingers furiously into you, using his other arm to brace across your hips, keeping you pinned to him. He’s practically growling as he pumps his hand between your legs, crooking his fingers up to press against the spot that makes you cry so beautiful for him. He keeps his fingers pressed deep for a moment, just grinding the tips of them into that spot relentlessly and relishing in the way you cry his name so prettily.

“Din, please- oh fuck! Stars, it’s too much, it’s too much oh my- ah-” you wine, feeling tears start to build in your eyes as you edge dangerously close to that peak you need so bad.

“C’mon, mesh’la, let go for me, squeeze my fingers with this little cunt,” he growls, and fuck, you can’t even breathe as you let him work you over, making you cum so hard that you can’t do anything but gasp for air.

And Din can’t fucking take it anymore.

“Fuck, I-” you hear him say, and you turn your head to look at him, even as aftershocks wrack your body, even as his fingers stay buried inside.

“What, Din?” you whisper, and Din nearly curses at the sight of you. Your lashes are wet with tears, stars, why do you have to look at him like that? It wears at his carefully honed control, and fuck, he can practically feel it snap at the sight of you, as the feeling of you.

“Can I fuck you?” he rasps, and you hear him suck in a breath, “please let me fuck you.” You can't hold back the keening whine that leaves your mouth, and Din shivers behind you at the sound of it.

“Please,” you breathe, and Din pulls his fingers out of you without missing a beat, reaching behind you, between your bodies to pull his cock out of his pants haphazardly. You feel the hardness of it press against your lower back, and resist the urge to look. You don’t want to cross any more lines than he’s given you.

“Just this once,” he mutters, pulling your hips back over him, notching the thick head of his cock to your entrance. “Just need to feel you, once, fuck, just once,” and he pulls you down, down, letting his cock stretch you so wide, so perfect.

Months in space, just weeks of having Din touch you, stars, it’s nothing compared to this. You eyes roll to the back of your head as he settles deep inside, so fucking deep that it makes your toes curl.

“Dank farrik, that’s fucking tight-” he grunts, the hot, wet heat of your cunt pulsing around him almost making him fill you up right then and there. He bites his tongue, praying to the Maker that the pain stops him from ending this far too fucking soon.

He uses his hard, strong grip on your hips to roll you into him, grinding you down hard onto his cock. You can only take it as he punches his hips up in aborted, desperate little thrusts that grind into your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Din, it’s so big, I can’t-” you whine, but Din only growls beneath his visor, fucking up into you harder, and your head falls back onto his shoulder plate at the feeling of it. It’s so perfect, it’s everything you’ve needed, stars, how will you survive without him filling you up like this?

“Give me another one, cyare,” he mutters, and he uses one of his hands to bring his fingers to your clit, just like he did that first night. Except this time, his cock is inside you, spreading you so wide and pressing up into your g-spot with every fucking thrust in. You gasp for air, little whines punching out of your throat every time Din shoves in all the way.

He’s a violent man, always has been, and fucking you is no exception. He fucks you like he hunts: fast, rough, fucking monstrous. Tears finally start to pour down your cheeks, and you hiccup through your moans.

“Look at you,” he rasps, “sobbing on my cock like the needy whore you are.” He doesn’t know what’s happened to him, he’s never talked like this, let alone to you. But stars, the way you moan for him has his head spinning, has words pouring out of his mouth like they’ve been trapped there all this time. “Mesh’la, squeezing me so perfect, never want to leave this perfect cunt.”

“Din, fuck, Din, I’m gonna- stars, I’m gonna-” you gasp, your hands scrabbling at the one hand he has rubbing at your swollen clit.

“C’mon, c’mon, let me feel it, need to fucking feel it-” he mutters, and oh-

You’re pretty sure you scream as you cum, but it’s hard to hear it over the ringing in your ears as you thrash in Din’s lap. You can feel him still inside you, his horrible fingers still rubbing dexterous circles into your clit as he floods your cunt with his cum. Your orgasm feels fucking endless, your thighs trying to close but still held wide by Din’s between them.

When you finally start to hear again, the blurriness fading from your vision, you can hear Din behind you, muttering, “fuck, so beautiful, didn’t- didn’t know you could do that.”

“Do- do what?” you slur, still groggy, but as you look in front of yourself, you can see the mess you’ve made. You’d fucking squirted, your wetness drenching his thighs and the floor of the hull. The sight makes your head spin, and you hide your face in his cowl as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to him. The coolness of his armor is soothing to your overly-heated body.

“So good, you did so good for me, cyar’ika,” he mumbles beneath the visor. “So pretty, can’t believe- you looked so beautiful.”

You let yourself relax into his hold, and he doesn’t let you go. “Didn’t know I could do that either,” you mumble, sleep already weighing down your eyelids, exhaustion flooding your body. “We’ll have to try again later,” you mumble. “Don’t think once is enough.”

“It will never be enough,” you hear him whisper, “not with you.”

#touch starved and feral din #love of my life #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #star wars smut

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keesdarlin · 4 months

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☆// take care of you (MDNI, 18+)

info! 141 + keegan + könig / fluff, established relationship (?) + gender neutral reader

cw! reader is sick (nothing gross at all, you're just not well)

prompt! you're ill and the boys insist on taking care of you

notes! thought i was dealing with some really gnarly allergies. went to urgent care and it turns out that i have an upper respiratory infection rip. so i'm writing this as copium, enjoy :]

PRICE :

price is all over it the second you say something about not feeling 100%. only really worries about getting sick himself as an afterthought, then scraps the thought as a whole when he thinks about how whatever he's doing is making you feel better. cooks you chicken soup, makes sure you stay in bed, prepares tea for you and gathers stuff for you to do so that you don't get too bored while you're giving your body time to rest. if you're clingy when you're sick (like me), he's cuddling you. again, doesn't really care about getting sick until he has time to think about the risk afterwards.

GAZ :

kyle's mostly clingy, not completely sure of how to handle you being sick. you're a tank! you're not supposed to get sick. so when you say that you're feeling a little under the weather, he's kind of at a loss. he stays by your side the entire time that you're feeling sick, petting your hair and kissing your forehead. the likelihood of him getting sick is ridiculously high and he knows that, if he does, he'll probably get his ass kicked for it, but he figures that he can deal with it if it means that you're feeling even a little bit better. follows you around the house to make sure that you're okay. he'll even sit in the bathroom while you're taking a shower, rambling nonsense at you. if you ask him to go pick up something from the store for you or make you something to eat, he definitely will, it's just not his first thought when he sees you all uncomfortable like that.

SOAP :

this one has a much better idea of what to do when you're not feeling super well. even if it's just a cold or some really gnarly allergies, johnny would be the one to insist on taking you to the doctor just to make sure. he just worries a lot. but once you get out of that appointment, he drops you off at home and ushers you into the shower, making sure you have something nice and cozy to wear once you get out. while you're doing that, he'll run to the store to pick up whatever meds you were prescribed and anything else that might help -- tea, cough drops, soup, snacks. once he gets back, he gets you into bed and queues up all of your favorite movies, tv shows, and/or comfort videos (a little extra incentive to keep you in bed and resting). he'll stay in bed with you, waiting on your every need to try and get you back on your feet as soon as possible.

GHOST :

i feel like he gets a little bit awkward when you get sick. he views you very similarly to the way gaz does. you're indestructible in his eyes and it simply doesn't compute that you would be taken down for a week or so by something as simple as a bad cold. but he's on it once he gets over the what the hell is happening to them phase. it's maximum efficiency with this guy. along with having timers on his phone so that neither of you forget when to take your medicine, he's also making you try every reasonable home remedy to try to get you better as quickly as possible. makes you sit in a hot bath, brings you tea and soup, rubs vicks on the end of your nose to try and clear up your congestion. he almost has you on a schedule with all he's doing to try to get you feeling better. it's honestly really adorable how hard he's trying.

KEEGAN :

keegan doesn't really like giving you special treatment just because you're his partner, but he just can't stand to see how uncomfortable and in pain you are when you're sick. if you're in the same line of work as him and you're feeling a little too foggy to communicate with your superiors properly, he's down to track down your higher-ups and relay any messages for you. he's also pretty good at the soup and the tea and all of the home remedy stuff. kind of tries to take care of it at home, but if it's any worse than a cold he's dragging you straight to the doctor's office. another one that has you basically stuck to his side while he takes care of you. not ridiculously affectionate, but he will definitely let you hang all over him if that gives you any kind of comfort. will stay in bed with you while you lean against his side, hugging him around his middle as he plays with your hair and draws patterns into your skin. super adamant about making sure you rest.

KÖNIG :

like keegan but softer almost. you're usually pretty capable of sucking it up and getting through injuries and allergies and the like, so when some kind of illness gets you down, he worries. doesn't like the idea of forcing you to go to the doctor's so he tries his best to take care of it at home. leans pretty heavily on home remedies -- the good ol' fluids and rest regimen. buys you packs and packs of your favorite gatorade flavor and that chicken noodle soup mix that comes in the little envelope. keeps you in bed and has the wet rag on your forehead if he's worrying about you getting feverish. he doesn't like the idea of making you leave the house, so if it seems that bad he'll make you do one of those virtual urgent care visits. otherwise, your ass is staying in bed. he turns your whole bedroom into a recovery zone with vicks, tissue boxes, a lil snack tray set up on your bedside table, humidifier, all of your favorite movies. literally anything you could possibly need, he has it for you. mans is serious about making sure you get better.

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rimunagenius · 13 days

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Would you be down to do a Kate fic where reader is a new transfer and Kate keeps seeing her all over campus and is quickly crushing on her (like she’s down BAD) Then one day when she’s going to meet Caitlin for lunch/coffee/something lol she sees her walking with r laughing then saying goodbye. Kate immediately starts interrogating CC the second she’s within earshot because she wants to find out everything she can about her mystery girl. CC laughs and says she transferred to play soccer and they’re in x class together. Then she’s like as fun as this is I’m starving so can we go eat now. From there she literally sees her everywhere because her and CC start to hang out outside of class, once she finds out r also played basketball in high school and college (focusing on soccer when she transferred) she invites her to pickup games or practice when she knows they’ll be using the managers to scrimmage and this is where Kate finally meets her and is officially smitten. R thinks she’s absolutely adorable and hopes this is the girl Cait said she wanted to introduce her to.

Everywhere

ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 2.2k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , other than that, none that i can think of other than the use of y/n.

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: okay so anon, i love this idea!!…i loved it and im so sorry it took so long to write it and i may possibly consider writing a part two! I love the idea of Kate being so smitten for reader. she’s a sucker for a pretty lady! also i hope it’s okay that i kinda made the reader a ghost to kate..like kate needed to be actively LOOKING so it’d be better for when she actually saw her and i feel like this could’ve have been better so im sorry if it didn’t meet your expectations 😭

Everywhere. You were literally everywhere. She was definitely not complaining about it though. You were actually so beautiful. You were everywhere but near her. You took over her whole mind since this morning.

She saw you on what she assumed to be your first day. You looked like a lost puppy walking around looking for your class. "Hey, you doing okay?" Kate approached you, sliding one of the sides of her headphones behind her ear. God, you looked even prettier up close.

"Uh, yeah? I don't know where the science building is. I've been looking for about twenty minutes and no luck." You sighed, checking your phone, your friend Caitlin texting you while you pulled your schedule up.

"I can help. If you want?" Kate gave you a warm smile, looking down at your phone. She recognized the professor, having had him her sophomore year. It was a general education requirement for her major. "Oh, I've had him before. I can walk you and show you."

"That'd be great, thanks." The walk was quiet, kind of awkward. Kate was nervous to make small talk. She never thought this far ahead. Hell, she didn't even know she was walking up to you until you responded to her.

Kate thought about it the whole way to her next class. She thought about it the whole way back to her home. She thought about you. The way you smiled at her when she offered her help. She didn't know what was happening.

She's seen many pretty girls before and felt attracted to them but not like this. She's barely known you—talked to you for a total of three minutes...It wasn't possible. It wasn't going to be a thing. She'd probably never see you again. This campus was too big.

Kate had thought about you, and she wouldn’t lie and say that she didn’t try looking for you either. She’d take her time walking to classes throughout that day and to Carver Arena. She’d stop to get coffee and snacks she wasn’t going to finish. She just wanted to see you. You were the most prettiest girl she has ever seen. She tried to find you all the rest of the day. With no luck, and her taking her sweet time to get to practice, she didn’t see you.

When she left for a later class, right after practice, after practice had ended at six pm, she had finally seen you and Caitlin walking together. It was the most shocking yet, anxiety inducing thing she’s seen since she left you earlier that morning.

She was a ways behind you both, recognizing Caitlin first, still in her practice uniform. You were both heading the same way she was, so she just decided to stay behind instead of going to talk to Cait. She wasn’t going to go anywhere near you both, scared of being that close again and having to introduce herself. She’d be an absolute mess. It barely worked this morning, and she was not taking her chances.

It wasn’t until she saw you walking away, meeting up with this other girl, and saying goodbye to Caitlin, that she decided to catch Caitlin before she left. “Caitlin!” Her walk speeding up, looking in your direction making sure you didn’t hear her.

Caitlin looked behind her to see her frantic teammate running up to her. “Yes, Kate?” She smiled nervously, watching the blonde dart her eyes between you and her.

“Who is that?” Kate looked to you, blushing. Pointing subtly towards you to make sure Caitlin knew exactly who she was talking about. That’s when Caitlin smiled. “That’s my friend! She just transferred here. She’s playing soccer now.”

“What do you mean ‘she plays soccer now’? What did she play before?” Kate wanted to know everything about you. She already knew you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. But she wanted to know more.

“She played basketball too. Got a full ride to UC Berkeley with it.” Caitlin nodded her head, continuing on the path she was headed to. “We were on our way to our class, but her soccer teammate needed her for a minute so I said i’d meet her there.”

“Oh, okay. How do you know her? Has she always been that pretty? How many classes do you guys have together? Maybe I can “walk” you to it?” Kate started to ramble any question that came to mind about you. All of which were about anything and everything besides your name.

“Oh, my god. Kate. Slow down. Why so many questions?” Caitlin laughed, already having a small idea as to what was happening. “Just ask her tomorrow.”

Kate’s throat went dry. What did she mean? “I’m sorry, what?” Kate choked out. Caitlin gave Kate a blank stare.

“I invited her to our pickup game tomorrow. Just talk to her then.” Kate was already so excited but dreading tomorrow.

She really really wanted to see you, but she started to think about how you’d see her play and she’d have to possibly guard you. This was a lot. Kate definitely did not let this go. She was starting to get too nervous. She was getting self conscious. She wanted to impress you.

Kate got up the next morning to a text from Caitlin asking to get there earlier than planned for a shoot around before the pickup game. The reason why was very vague but she decided to go early. Caitlin had asked her multiple other times to meet up and practice shots. That’s where Kate had developed better confidence in her far-range shots. Her three game improving significantly.

But the more Kate thought about it, she didn’t even get your name yesterday. Not even from Caitlin.

Her nerves were through the roof as she walked out the house and set on her way to Carver.

Her face grew hot and red, suddenly her relaxed and otherwise friendly demeanor turned shy and antsy as she got closer and closer to you both, standing on the court while she set her stuff down. That’s why she wanted her early…forgetting to mention the why.

“Hey, Cait.” Kate walked up to Caitlin, her eyes darting between you and her. She was so nervous. You were just so pretty and so close she just couldn’t take it.

“Hey! This is my friend, y/n.” Caitlin looked to Kate, and then to you. You shook Kate’s hand. Immediately recognizing the pretty girl who had helped you find your class yesterday.

You smiled. Yesterday after she walked you all the way to your class, before you had walked in you thanked her and watched her go on her way. She looked nervous but so did you. You walked up to the door but stopped to look behind you. What made it more awkward is you both caught eachothers eye at the same time.

Cait💕

“You find your class okay?”

“yeah! some really nice girl helped me find my class.”

“Oh, awesome! The people here are way nicer than the people from California huh?”

Caitlin and you had grown up together. Two girls who loved the game of basketball. You got a full ride to UC Berkeley. Iowa skipping over you for an offer but getting Caitlin. You honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You got to experience life outside of Iowa. It was a fun experience. You loved California but still keeping in touch with back home. You would’ve stayed if your injury your sophomore season didn’t pull you out of the sport completely.

Tearing your meniscus, ACL, PCL, and MCL. You tore them over a span of a couple years. Your ACL and PCL being the first to go in your junior season of highschool. The MCL your freshman year of college. You had been halfway into your sophomore season at Berkeley when you tore your meniscus.

You were told you were able to recover and go back, but your coach didn’t like that you were getting injured and submitted an appeal to have your full ride taken. That’s when the dean advised you to find a different career outside of basketball. So, you entered the transfer portal, losing your full ride, and ended back up in Iowa for senior year. You had played soccer growing up as well with your brother. You kept up with it outside of basketball only small scrimmages, nothing too serious so you weren’t injured for basketball. But Iowa had a great soccer team and you missed home, so you decided to come back and come back to soccer.

“They’re way nicer for sure…and wayyy cuter😉”

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy”

“you laughed at, ‘Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy’ ”

You were excited to meet the friends Caitlin made here in Iowa City after you left. Wanted to meet the women she talked so highly of. So when she texted you last night asking if you wanted to shoot around before doing a pick up game, you immediately said yes. Something about wanted to introduce you to a friend, hence having to get there early.

“Oh, you walked me to my class yesterday!” You stuck your hand out and waited for Kate to shake it.

Kate had been staring at you. She didn’t mean it in a rude or freaky way. She just was in shock. There was no way you knew Caitlin. “Uh, yeah! I’m Kate. I don’t think we formally introduced ourselves yesterday.” Kate giggled.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. There was no way Kate was the cute girl you mentioned to her yesterday. No way. And there’s no way you had Kate Martin giggling at a handshake. This elicited a random giggle and ‘no way’. You and Kate turned your heads and looked at her confused. It finally clicked to Caitlin.

“Oh! Nothing nothing. Just that—Oh! Look! My ball!” She walked away to the ball she left at half court, leaving you two to stand in awkward silence before opting to get started. You guys were going for about an hour before Caitling and Kate walked up to the small team Caitlin put together. You watched them two walk away, shaking your head before walking over to your team.

That’s when Kate turned to look back at you. Watching you immediately make friends with the girls in your team. Which happened to be her friends too. Kate turned back to the team, a huddle being held…Kate’s face grew even more rosy when she saw her best friend caught on to what was happening. Caitlin had been giving her the biggest smirk when they made eye contact. Was it really that obvious that she had a crush on you? Could she even call it that? She just met you formally seconds ago.

The shoot around is where you and Kate really got to know each other. Exchanging stories and experiences, her asking all kinds of questions of what it was like in California.

How you knew Caitlin, which she was shocked to find out that you grew up here. That you and Caitlin were neighbors. She learned more than what Caitlin had been willing to tell her. Something about “you’ll know soon enough,” or “i’ll let her decide.”

It didn’t help that she had to guard you during the whole game, even though her being absolutely smitten from the moment Caitlin told her your name wasn’t already awkward enough.

The small praises you gave her while playing went immediately to Kate’s head. A pretty girl like you complimenting her. She returned them back, feeling less scared of her antics when she saw how you reacted to them too. It was the most nervous and overall mindfucking pick up game she’s ever played in her life. And she grew up with playing with bigger and stronger boys. Hell, she’s made it to national championship games and this by far took the cake for the most absurd and anxious game.

But you, made her immediately nervous. And she knew you knew. The small smiles and giggles you gave her whenever you saw her reaction to your compliments and praises, your touches to her body when you would pivot around her while dribbling, your hands brushing her hips when trying to blow past her and cut to the basket.

Needless to say, you both knew the effect you had on eachother. Which is why it was the longest yet shortest game ever. Because when it ended, and you had work to do and practice to attend, so you started to say your goodbyes to everyone.

You said goodbye to the new girls you made friends with, getting their numbers and then pulling your oldest friend aside. “Please tell me that’s her.” Your face burning up from the exertion and the thought of the tall blonde you could feel was looking at you from behind Caitlin.

“Possibly.” Cait raised her brows, mischevious smile on her face.

“She’s possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen, Cait. Please tell me that’s her.” You glanced behind Caitlin again, catching those oh, so pretty blue eyes. You both looking away immediately, you both blushing.

“I’ll talk to you after your practice.” She hugged you and you started on your way to your practice. Looking back to catch one last longing look to Kate. It was definitely her.

She was already standing and talking to Caitlin, big smile on her face, hair now down. God, she looked good.

“Please invite her to more of these.” Kate pleaded with Caitlin. That immediately earned a loud chuckle from the brunette. This was so entertaining. Her best friends having the hots for eachother was the most interesting thing to happen to her.

“I will.” Caitlin patted her hand on her best friends chest, starting to walk away. “I fucking knew it.” She said while she was a good distance from Kate.

“What?” Kate asked, already wishing another pick up game would happen or that she’d run into you soon.

“Oh, nothing.” Caitlin walked away, knowing she had to do something to keep you guys interacting. This game of trying to get you both together was more fun than, dare she say, the final four tournament??

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blingblong55 · 6 months

Text

The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations:

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

----------------------

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls.

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw.

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms.

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death.

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart.

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future.

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours.

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told.

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left.

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force.

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war.

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs.

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware.

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him.

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem.

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it.

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband.

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear.

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you.

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ]

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun.

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover.

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break.

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them.

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband.

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence.

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy.

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states.

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

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catfern · 6 months

Text

1 MILLION SUBSCRIBERS SPECIAL

pairing: ghost hunter!ellie x afab!reader (feminine pronouns used)

music: eyes without a face - billy idol

word count: 2.3k

summary: ghost hunter!ellie needs a new assistant to help film her 1 million subscribers special in a supposedly 'haunted house'. good thing you'll do anything she says.

warnings: SEXTAPE, oral (r!receiving) fingering (r!receiving), ghosts? spooky business, ellie is a shitty clickbait youtuber

an: heyyy this came to me in a dream. nothing much else to say. get ready to fuck dirty while ghosts watch idk. this is probably gonna be my only halloween fic while we're still in october. got some other ideas tho so get ready for a spooky november

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“come on! come on! it’ll be fun! something memorable on halloween.”

“jesus, ellie, you know I don’t believe in that shit.”

it’s a coy laugh. your fingers dance over your phone, unsure what to do. you didn’t believe her when she jumped and screamed, bolstering about her 1 millionth subscriber.

‘The Ghost Detective.’ her youtube profile was almost as shoddy as her Mr. Beast-esque clickbait video titles.

“then it doesn’t matter!” she had a hold on your forearm, intermittent squeezing begging you to fold, “please? the last girl I had thought her dead mom was talking to her and ran off.”

she had an almost pitiful look in her eyes, her eyebrows screwed together as she pleaded.

fucking hell. you were convinced if you hadn’t met ellie, hadn’t started falling behind her like an obedient dog, you’d actually submit most of your assignments on time.

“fine.”

it wasn’t that your tiny town was particularly superstitious, or religious, or any other ‘-itious’, but it was in unspoken agreement that there was something inexplicable here, on the hill that looked over the lights of the suburbs. a decaying prairie protrusion built god-knows-when, the moon shone high in its fullness through the rotting foundations, casting its shadows over the dead grass, falling at your feet with the cool of the wind.

the whisper in her voice ran up your spine, “gettin’ scared yet?”

ellie seemed all too giddy to be here, a wicked smile and a laugh in her throat. her hair was pulled back from her face, and you could lightly see the ghost of freckles across her cheek in the night.

“what? no, no. i’m just tired.”

“right,” she was poking fun, the words dripping from her lips like electricity. she dumped her arms-full of equipment in your arms with a huff, before digging around in her backpack. “here,” cold metal in your hand as she took back her stuff. redbull, “we’re gonna be here all night.”

you don’t know how she did it. even as a certified non-believer, the engulfing emptiness of the house, the darkness that settled in the cracks and corners caught up with you, something unsettling pricking the hairs on the back of your neck.

but here she was. she brought a lawn chair from home, said it was her dad’s. equipped with the built-in beer holder and everything, she was relaxed. her elbows settled on her knees, her hands fallen limp in the space between her legs. she had something in her eyes, a glint. something determined, charming as she stared you down. well, the camera.

but you were staring at her right back. memorising what little detail echoed through the lens of the shitty 2008 sony camcorder.

she said it was for the ‘found footage look’. you know it’s just because she’s broke.

“now, legend has it, ladies and gentlemen, that the last owners of this iconic hillside property were satan .. worshippers. and that this house, this very house that i’m sitting in right now, is actually an active portal. to. hell.”

you’ve gotta give it to her. she had a talent for drama.

“i’ll just point to you when i need you to do like, i dunno, a little camera pan or something, yeah?”

ellie was explaining it to you like you hadn’t just been at home binge-watching her channel for the past few days, meticulous research, you called it. to make sure you did a good job as her assistant. not like the blur of her messy hair and her face in the ghoulish green light of the night vision camera did anything to you.

you knew her video structure. front room first, then five minutes in a spooky hallway, then some time left to freak out in one of the bedrooms, find an old haunted toy that definitely wasn’t planted, and then a quick exit with a lot of swearing, screaming and camera shaking.

“right, you ready?”

you nod.

the front room was, unsurprisingly, boring, although ellie put on her best shiver-me-timbers face, as she calls it. something for the fans.

but when you got back into the hallway, something in the air had changed. you looked to ellie, and you couldn’t tell if what she felt was real, or fake. she just kept looking at you through the camera, the same dramatised ‘concern’ written all over her face.

everything ellie does is scripted. fake.

if there was something wrong, truly wrong, here, you would leave, right?

the feeling was violently oppressive, pushing down on you. run, run, run. a gush of something ran across the back of your neck.

“fuck! what was that? did you feel that?”

“hey, hey,” the sudden normalness of her voice felt misplaced, “just keep the camera on me, okay? eyes on me.”

you could barely see her fucking eyes. the imposing and suffocating darkness of the house seemed to wrap around you horribly tight, the only thing keeping you tethered to your sense of sanity was the sound of ellie’s breath, so close you could feel it wisp around your cheekbone, warm and inviting. the only comfort fighting the cold in the air.

slowly, your sight adjusts to the dark, and you could barely make out the outline of her face in the dim light of the moon. she was watching you, her eyes lidded, flickering over the shadow of your body. your own breath was quick, adrenaline laced, something sore and deep. you feel a slight graze against your arm and you jump, ellie catching your shoulders in her arms, pushing you upright,

“careful, it’s just me,”

there’s a closeness now, a beat. her grip is strong as it soothes the shaking, the fear, the absolute buzz that you’re convinced is the only thing keeping you alive. you quickly become obsessed with the design of her, you’ve never been this close. suddenly, you recognise the way her hair falls on her face, the look in her eyes, the shine as she looks at you. she clears her throat, and her hands drop, coarsely, from your shoulders,

“come on, you’re alright. let’s keep going.”

yeah, yeah. you fumble your hand back through the strap of the camera, a slight twitch in your hand as you press record,

“fucking hell,” her voice was raspy, deep, a soft but commanding whisper, “the spirits sure are stirred up here… i wonder what happened.”

stay close to me. it’s barely a breath, something not meant to be heard, but her voice is luring, and you nod.

your footsteps were a heavy echo against the aging wood floor, the creaks spreading through the house like a warning. to you, or to others, you don’t know.

the bedroom wasn’t far. you had to hike up a flight of decaying steps, but as ellie talked to the camera, she held a hand firm on your back. she wouldn’t let you fall.

the room obviously belonged to some kids, however long ago. abandoned toys and rotted posters littered the floor, and it almost felt painful to see the life that was once in this house. but why did they leave everything here? kids drawings, toys, a closet full of half-eaten, moth-ridden clothes.

what made them just get up and leave?

wind rattled against the window, it felt like it was rocking the house. something was uneasy here, unnerving. you tried to focus your thoughts on ellie, her dramatic storytelling and perfectly practiced ‘scared’ body language, but there was something here. and it was watching.

one final gust of wind surged against the rocky foundations of the house, and the closet doors flung open, an old wooden puppet flying out to your feet.

you were never a screamer, never. which is why, when you heard a blood-curdling shriek rush through the house, it felt like an out of body experience. something foreign. you fell back and tripped over your own feet, desperate to put as much distance between you and whatever was in this house as possible.

luckily, ellie’s fear is fabricated. she’s quick to respond, stepping in to steady you with kind hands and a charming smile. your heart rate was so intense, it rocked the both of you, chest to back, intertwined something fierce. your breath settles against her chest, and you meet her eye,

“thought you didn’t get scared,” she was being a tease. her hands ghosting over your body gently, carefully, thinly veiled under the guise of simply holding you, caring for you, she was keeping you safe. it was a little self-indulgent.

“i’m not,” you steel yourself, stubborn girl, although a soft laugh bubbles in your throat. there’s something unreal about the steady feeling of ellie’s hands, the roughness of her palms pushing through your clothing. you turn, and she’s smiling, the glint of her teeth in the soft light, mischief an echo on her face. her voice was low as she leaned in, tickles of her hair just brushing the apple of your cheekbone,

“really, baby? i don’t think you would even still be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“you think i’m here for you?” she’s so close you can feel your breath swirl with hers, heat brushing down your jaw and dripping onto your neck. her grip on your waist anchors, and you feel her settle in the crooks of your body, the corners of your skin, like she’s home. she’s looking at you, something jokingly fierce, but unsure, and her gaze falls on your lips,

“mhm,”

you’d think she’d been starved. restless, choked breaths fall between you in gaps as she pulls you in, heavy, her lips on yours in fervour. her hands are everywhere, tracing themselves in your hair, down your neck, feeling their way blindly along the softness of your skin. god.

her lips draw from yours, dragging a mix of spit and lip gloss down your chin, along the ridge of your neck, a trail glistening in the edging darkness.

“fuck, ellie.”

you barely register the weight lifting from your hand, only a visceral whine as she pulls from you, walking a safe distance to gently place the camera down, out of the way.

ellie finds herself back in the crook of her neck, dragging your skin through her teeth, soft groans rumbling from her throat as her hands pull their way down to the waistband of your skirt,

a skirt? really?

had you planned this?

“come on, sweetheart,” she’s barely audible against your skin, vibrations dripping down your torso as her hands dive under your shirt, lifting it to bounce above your tits, “that’s it.”

her palm cups the base of your tit, dragging soft moans from your pretty lips as she squeezes.

under her breath, she’s praying. vulgar, tenacious, she can’t control herself, lost in the dream of your body as she presses you against a wall she hopes won’t collapse.

fuck-god, fuck, jesus, baby.

if you’re who she’s praying to, it falls on deaf ears. you’re no god, you can’t help her, but fuck, she feels like she could worship you. properly, forever, falling to her knees and cupping her palms behind your thighs, it’s like she’s pleading,

“can i?” she’s soft, her cheek resting on the inside of your thigh, you’re her altar, “god, say yes.”

her nose just graces the wetness of your underwear and you flinch, “yes! ellie, f-fuck-please.”

she loops her pointer fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your thighs, almost too rough. she loses herself in the heat, the slick dripping from your pussy.

heat poured over your body like molten gold, the feeling of her tongue inside you, raw, animalistic, sending pulses sliding up the ridges of your skin. she hums against your clit, her hand coming down to pull your velvet slick from the rim of her lips.

you convulse, clenching around the encroaching absence of a feeling, of something you didn’t know you needed.

her.

“fucking hell, sweet girl,” deep, ragged breaths shadow your thighs. she needs air, but its not like she wants it. fuck, she wants you, she needs you. your taste on her tongue is metallic, a memory she’s chasing like a quick withdrawal. her tongue finds your clit and presses, a murmur leaving her drowning lips and echoing through your veins as you moan, desperation clawing through your hands and in ellie’s hair, binding.

“please, el-f-shit, i need you. i need to feel you, fuck!”

you didn’t need to ask twice.

fuck, you wrapped around her like you were made for her, godsent, a gift for her devotion. she stretched you, opening you with her fingers and you nearly melted, ellie’s arm wrapped around your thigh the only stability offered for your spent body. your head threw back, digging into the old, rotting wood of the wall, and if ellie looked up, pulled away from her firm spot between your legs, she would have seen you and completely unravelled.

she wasn’t gentle, the way her fingers moved inside you. desperate and completely unforgiving, she needed everything that you were willing to give her, her pace rough, fast, world-destroying.

and there she was, a lazy grin bearing her teeth against your clit, pussydrunk and delirious, tasting you and content enough to die.

she supposed she wouldn’t mind haunting this house, if you came to visit her.

low warbles against your cunt, you couldn’t hear her, even if you were listening. drowning in the push and pull of her touch, in the warmth of her, your head felt like molasses, your body something soft, mouldable to her design. ellie laughed against your walls, sweet and desiring, and you collapsed.

your vision bleary, you could just feel the tips of ellie’s fingers brushing through your hair, smoothing your slick across your skin. your head fell against hers, and you could just make out something blinking in the foggy distance,

the camera,

“hey, el,”

she sighed, heat in the crook of your neck, “yeah?”

“does the red light mean it’s on?”

A few days later, the thoughts of ghosthunting weighing heavy on your mind, ellie texts you,

thought you might want a copy <3

my subscribers will love you

attachment: hauntedhouse.mov

taglist; @whore4abby

dm me to join my sad lil list <3

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou

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wndaswife · 2 years

Text

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.

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