#ACADEMIC TAILORS

[fitzgabriels]

RYDER & AMIES: THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY OUTFITTERS

Ryder & Amies is an historic tailoring house in the heart of Cambridge that has shared an association with the University of Cambridge since its foundation in 1864. The firm has been a go-to supplier of Oxbridge academic wear (sub fusc) and was the preferred tailor, shirtmaker and robemaker to the discerning Cantabrigian student or don for much of their history.

fitzgabriels.com

#ACADEMIC CLOTHIERS #ACADEMIC GOWNS #ACADEMIC OUTFITTERS #ACADEMIC TAILORS #ACCESSORIES #BRAND #BRITISH #CAMBRIDGE #CLOTHIERS #CUSTOM #ENGLISH #HERITAGE #LUXURY #MADE-TO-MEASURE #MERCHANDISE #NECKTIES #OUTFITTERS #ROBEMKAERS #SHIRTMAKERS #SOUVENIRS #SUB FUSC #TAILORING #TAILORS #UNIVERSITY CLOTHIERS #RYDER & AMIES #CANTABRIGIAN #UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE #OXBRIDGE #CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY

[waywardstation]

I like that yall have a healthy relationship with media. By that I just mean that the lack of a personal connection between you and any set of characters does not automatically make you think a thing is bad. Rather that you just haven't connected to it.

I've spoken to sooo many people on tumblr who seem to legit think that making a connection and developing a hyperfixation on a character or piece of media is how you know its "good" rather than understanding that just means your not into it.

Thank you Anon!! Yes, I had a friend once say something like “not everything is made exactly for the same audience; just because you might not click with it, doesn’t mean it’s bad.” In regards to media consumption and how the internet seems to treat things, and that’s stuck with me since.

Connecting with characters or media can help you look for the good in them, and personally appreciate them more, I think! But yes, it does not mean the media in its entirety is objectively good or bad - there are many more aspects to the media that should be considered besides that to discern it, I think!

#I’ve also learned how important this is with my academic major #it’s important to discern what is good objectively #not subjectively #or else you can not appreciate someone’s work as their actual work #instead of viewing it like something specifically tailored to you #I’ve had to study so much media with narratives and characters I didn’t care about at all #but I try to recognize why they’re so highly-appreciated #of course that doesn’t mean every single thing is good #you just have to discern without personal preferences #it’s important!!

[suetbysuet]

suetbysuet.com

IG: @suetbysuet

Edwardian inspired lace skirt and petticoat Proudly handmade by myself🪡

Check out lace skirt and petticoat for more behind the scene and making of🤍

#edwardian fashion #edwardian #historic fashion #lace skirt #petticoats #cottagecore #balletcore #cottage vibes #dark academia #academic aesthetic #lace trim #handmade #hand sewing #memade #memadewardrobe #tailoring

[nammikisulora]

I fucking love when academics allow themselves to be funny. Gerard Genette's Narrative Discourse Revisited is basically ~150 pages of him going "So my book got a bunch of criticism and here's why they are wrong and I am in fact correct", and in a few cases "This is why [other academic] is an absolute idiot, wtf" in a hilariously snarky fashion. (There are also a few "Yeah okay maybe I could have phrased this better and other people might sometimes have a point to. I GUESS!")

Like I am literally laughing out loud reading foundational narratological theory. Good job Monsieur Snark <3

#finally theory i actually really enjoy reading #(not only him but narratology in general) #woohoo extra kudos to my university for having the Secret Option of getting tailor made reading courses #academics trashing other academics will never be not funny #nammi's ramblings

[warlordfelwinter]

making better progress with pages this time. which is all that matters.

#sada did accidentally piss it off somehow #but then they kissed #and now its status is 'lovable sweetheart; companion' #which seems promising #now maybe i should try to solve the mystery #fel's fl #mask of the rose lb #oc: sada #i chose academic as a background this time #it's going to be sada every time but with different outfits and attitudes #i'm not sure if i like academic better than tailor but it is interesting how much things change #just from something so small #also the description of kissing pages is exactly as haunting as you'd expect #some sort of eldritch mouth under that hood but sada figured some way to make out with it

[stepseduworldblog]

Unlocking Opportunities: How a Trusted Education & Career Coach Facilitates Study in the UK

In the vibrant city of Dubai, where innovation meets tradition, the journey of Trusted Education & Career Coaches and consultants unfolds with promising opportunities and transformative innovations. As Dubai continues to position itself as a global hub for education and business, students in the region are witnessing a dynamic evolution in the way they learn, explore career paths, and prepare for the future. In this blog post, we delve into the multifaceted aspects of education and career opportunities for Dubai students, from emerging trends in learning to the diverse pathways in the professional realm.

Virtual Reality Classrooms: Stepping into Tomorrow

Imagine students donning VR headsets, transported to ancient civilizations or exploring molecular structures up close. Virtual reality classrooms are revolutionizing learning, turning textbooks into immersive experiences. In Dubai, where innovation is a way of life, VR classrooms are poised to reshape traditional learning paradigms.

One of the defining characteristics of modern education in Dubai is the integration of cutting-edge technologies that enhance learning experiences. Virtual reality (VR) classrooms have emerged as a game-changer, offering students immersive and interactive environments that transcend traditional teaching methods. Imagine a history lesson where students can virtually visit ancient civilizations or a science class where they explore complex molecular structures up close. VR classrooms not only make learning engaging but also foster deeper understanding and retention of concepts.

#AI-Driven Learning Platforms: Personalized Pathways to Success #Meet your digital mentor: AI-driven platforms that adapt to your learning style. From personalized lesson plans to instant feedback #AI enhances the educational journey for Dubai students studying in the UK. Imagine an AI coach guiding you through challenges or recommendi #Alongside VR #artificial intelligence (AI) is revolutionizing education through personalized learning platforms tailored for students studying in the UK. #adaptive assessments #and real-time feedback. Dubai students benefit from AI-powered tools that cater to their unique strengths and areas of improvement #paving the way for personalized learning journeys that optimize academic success. #Global Networking Opportunities: Connecting Dubai to the World #Networking is key in a globally connected world. Dubai students access a vast network through virtual conferences #collaborative projects #and cross-cultural exchanges. The world is at their fingertips #broadening horizons from their classrooms. #Dubai's cosmopolitan environment opens doors to a rich tapestry of global networking opportunities for students. Through virtual conference #and cross-cultural exchanges #students in Dubai connect with peers #experts #and mentors from around the world. This global network not only expands their academic horizons but also nurtures valuable relationships an #Blended Learning: Bridging the Physical and Digital Divide #Welcome to blended learning #where traditional meets digital. Dubai embraces hybrid models #combining in-person interactions with online resources. This approach caters to diverse needs #customizing the learning experience. #Moreover #blended learning equips Dubai students with essential digital literacy skills #critical thinking abilities #and adaptability to thrive in the digital age. As technology continues to evolve #the integration of digital learning tools and resources enhances Dubai's education ecosystem #preparing students for success in an increasingly digital and interconnected world. #Skills of Tomorrow: Nurturing Creativity and Critical Thinking

[doyors]

#Maintaining good health is a fundamental aspect of leading a fulfilling life. As our understanding of health continues to evolve #it is crucial to explore and adopt the most effective strategies for promoting overall well-being. This academic text aims to present three #it is important to note that the information provided here is subject to potential inaccuracies. Therefore #it is strongly advised to verify and cite proper sources before implementing any of the presented suggestions. #1. Balanced Nutrition and Regular Exercise: #One of the most widely recognized and scientifically supported methods for attaining good health is through a combination of balanced nutri #consisting of essential nutrients such as proteins #carbohydrates #healthy fats #vitamins #and minerals #is crucial for supporting bodily functions and maintaining optimal health. Similarly #engaging in regular physical activity #tailored to individual capabilities and preferences #can improve cardiovascular health #enhance muscle strength #boost metabolism #and elevate overall well-being. #2. Adequate Sleep and Stress Management: #In today's fast-paced world #the importance of sufficient sleep and effective stress management cannot be overstated. Adequate sleep plays a vital role in supporting ph #strengthens the immune system #aids in weight management #and contributes to emotional well-being. Additionally #managing stress is crucial for maintaining good health. Chronic stress can lead to various physical and psychological ailments #including cardiovascular diseases #weakened immune response #anxiety #and depression. Engaging in stress-reducing activities #such as meditation

[calico-kiwi]

*stares at the holloween-esque fic i started a year ago but never really worked on that holds world building so deep i could drown in it*

what if i return to this

#kiwi shares their thoughts #it’s actually so good #for me #its good for me #idk if it’s good for y’all but it’s good for me #did i mention it’s daminette #and it’s academic rivals #and it’s a very big au in the sense the concepts i’m using are just *chefs kiss* #at least to me it’s *chef’s kiss* #it’s so tailor made for me it’s crazy

[kidsinnowadays]

Homework Hassles? 5 Effective Strategies to Help Your Child Excel in School

Explore practical methods to support your child's academic journey, ensuring homework becomes an opportunity for growth and achievement. #HomeworkHelp #SchoolSuccess #ParentingTips #AcademicExcellence

Homework is a significant aspect of a child’s academic journey, offering opportunities to reinforce classroom learning, develop time-management skills, and cultivate a sense of responsibility. However, it’s not uncommon for homework to become a source of stress and frustration for both children and parents. This article delves into the common challenges associated with homework and provides five…

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#Balancing Homework and Extracurriculars #Boosting Confidence in Homework #Building a Positive Homework Environment #Communicating with Teachers #Creating a Homework Routine #Effective Homework Habits #Encouraging Independent Learning #Enhancing Study Skills #Helping Your Child Excel in School #Homework and Child Success #Homework Organization Tips #Homework Success Strategies #Homework Support for Parents #Motivating for Homework Completion #Overcoming Homework Challenges #Parental Homework Involvement #Parenting for Academic Achievement #Providing Homework Guidance #Setting Realistic Goals #Tailoring Homework Strategies #Time Management for Homework

[tonyspank]

WH0 R U???

Warnings: Professor!Reader, Tara eye-fucking you, and that’s all I believe.

Summary: Tara’s attractive Professor comes to the rescue.

A/N: I’ll be doing a part 2 soon w smut 🥲

part 2

Several years of school, scholarly work, and teaching experience led you here.

To Blackmore University. You were younger than the average professor, but your dedication and passion for education set you apart.

You were professional and not one to be pushed around. That much was clear when you set foot inside your literature classroom for the first time.

English was always your favorite subject, and you excelled in it throughout your academic journey. So, why wouldn't you pursue a career in teaching English at the university level?

However, for the next few months, you won't be teaching literature. Instead, you'll be filling in for your co-worker Laura, who's away on FML, taking on the role of teaching film study.

While you may not have much experience teaching film, Laura was desperate for someone to cover her classes, and you were willing to help out. She's been nothing but sweet to you. Plus, how hard could it be? You've watched movies before.

When you walked into the classroom on your first day, late in the afternoon, you were greeted by a bunch of drama kids who were honestly confused; you could see it in their faces.

They were expecting Laura, their experienced film study teacher, but instead they got you, someone with little to no teaching experience in film.

"Professor Y/LN?" Jason Carvey, a student from your previous class, asked with a puzzled expression.

"What happened to Laura? We were really looking forward to her class."

You took a deep breath, placing your belongings on the desk at the front of the classroom.

"Unfortunately, Laura had an unexpected personal matter to attend to and won't be able to teach this semester. But don't worry, I may not have much teaching experience in film, but I'll try my best."

You reassured the students, hoping to alleviate their disappointment. "Professor Crane provided me with some materials and resources to help guide us through the semester. Additionally, I've been doing my own research to ensure that we have a fulfilling learning experience in this class."

You give the class a tight-lipped smile before opening your briefcase.

"Well, shall we get started?"

Tara didn't know exactly what it was about you that made her eyes widen and her heart begin racing. Sure, anyone could see you were attractive, young, and obviously confident, but there was something more captivating about your presence.

Was it your voice? Was it how you commanded the room with your words? Or perhaps it was the way you'd lean back against the desk, crossing your built arms as your eyes scanned the room, exuding an air of authority.

Tara found herself drawn to you like a magnet, unable to tear her gaze away. She was intrigued by the air of mystery that surrounded you, wondering what secrets lay behind your confident façade.

As class went on, Tara's dark brown eyes scanned over you like a predator assessing its prey. From your perfectly styled hair to your amazingly kept eyebrows, your enchanting y/e/c eyes, to your sultry lips—don't get her started on your sculpted jawline.

You were a sight to take in, captivating and commanding attention without even trying. You presented yourself with an effortless grace that made it impossible for anyone to look away.

Your white button-up shirt was crisp and tailored, hugging your form in all the right places, and your black slacks were perfectly pressed, accentuating the length and strength of your legs.

Tara's stare flew back up, staring at the bulge in your pants, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and desire—

"—Tara, is it? What do you think?" Tara quickly snapped out of her momentary distraction, her cheeks still flushed.

She cleared her throat and tried to regain her composure before responding, "Oh, I'm sorry. Could you please repeat the question?"

You smile, showcasing your charming dimples and perfect smile. While Tara was in her trance, you found yourself relaxing into the class's discussion, feeling like you no longer needed to put on your strict professor persona.

You leaned back, crossing your legs. "How do you think directors like Quentin Tarantino push the boundaries of traditional storytelling in their films? Do you believe their unique approaches have a lasting impact on the film industry?"

Tara nods, playing with the pencil that sits in front of her. "Yeah, I think directors like Tarantino definitely push the boundaries of traditional storytelling, especially with their unique approaches that challenge the audience's expectations and keep them engaged. Like Kill Bill and Pulp Fiction, for example, and how he used non-linear narrative structure and unconventional use of violence to create a distinct cinematic experience that stands out from the mainstream. Peak cinema at its finest."

You raise an eyebrow, impressed. "You surely know your film." The freckled-faced girl giggles in response, dropping her gaze to her hands.

At the end of the lecture, Tara approaches you with a small smile on her face. You look up from your notes, which Laura had given you, and it also confuses the fuck out of you. With a quirked eyebrow, you meet Tara's gaze, your face softening.

"Oh, Tara. Need something?" Tara hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd accept my late work. Professor Crane gave me extra time to complete it, but I still couldn't finish on time. I understand if you can't, but I thought it was worth asking."

You bite on your lower lip, not noticing how quickly Tara's eyes drop to the action. "Uh, sure." You rip out a piece of paper from your notebook and write down a quick note.

"Here's my number. I lost the login to my email, so this will have to do. Send me your late work, and I'll make sure it gets to Professor Crane. Just make sure to include your name and the assignment details in the text so there's no confusion. I'll do my best to help you out."

Tara's eyes light up with relief as she thanks you profusely. "I really appreciate it, thank you so much." You nod, giving her a tight-lipped smile before focusing back on your notes.

A few days later, you're home alone, eating a bowl of ice cream while you watch the movie Stab. Suddenly, your phone buzzes with a new message. Your eyes fight to tear away from the screen, and you reluctantly pick up your phone to check the message.

[phone]: wh0 r u???

You squint at the unfamiliar number, puzzled by the message. After a moment of hesitation, you reply.

You: I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong number. Who are you trying to reach?

[phone]: profdsser y/ln

You furrow your brow, trying to decipher the cryptic message. It doesn't make any sense to you. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decide to respond one more time. You: I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're saying. Can you please clarify?

[phone]: rolling eyes emoji

[phone]: three ht poreffesor whofilling for ms crane?

Was this Tara? You put down your bowl of ice cream; this had to be Tara. And she had to be drunk. You take a deep breath before responding again.

You: Tara, is that you? Are you okay? It seems like you're drunk.

[phone]: ummmmmmmmm

[phone]: busted

You: Tara, I'm really concerned about you. Is everything alright? Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help.

Tara: iamat the frt house

Tara: canyoucum pik me up, pleas?

You twist your lips, concerned about Tara's well-being and the fact that she is asking for a ride. Surely she had friends with her. You didn't want to leave her stranded, but you also didn't want to be the professor driving their students home from a wild party. However, you take a moment to gather yourself before responding.

You: Of course, Tara. I'll be there to pick you up. Just send me the address, and I'll be on my way.

Tara has started sharing their location with you.

You see the location pop up on your phone, quickly checking the estimated time of arrival, and mentally prepare yourself to pick up your drunk student.

#tonyspank #wattpad #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x gn!reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter fluff #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x male reader #tara carpenter x g!p reader #professor!reader x tara carpenter #professor!reader

[aniharas]

𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: on your first day back at spider society hq, your male colleagues are inexplicably drawn to you. your boss, miguel, seems to be affected more than anybody. surely there's an explanation and solution, but who were you to resist?

warnings: explicit language, sexual tension/content, use of pheromones (please let me know if i need to add more!)

wc: 9.6k+ oneshot

a/n: apparently there was a rumor that a body butter named Delícia Drench (hence name of the fic) attracted wolf spiders! somebody on reddit said it's because there might be two ingredients that imitate the pheromones of a female spider and it'll bring all the thirsty boy spiders to your yard. and with miguel being 50% spider, how could i resist writing? (shoutout to scarlet for the wonderful prompt!) however DISCLAIMER! these claims are unfounded, i just thought it was a fun prompt to write off of. anything i say in the fic referring to the butter is purely fictional and im just talking out of my ass. with that being said, enjoy!

Just before the sun began to rise over the city line of Earth-766’s New York, your hand shot out to slam the snooze button of your annoying alarm clock before it could even go off. The silky sheets you were laid in were far too comfortable, reluctant to release you from its dreamlike embrace, but alas, duty was calling. The holidays had come to a close, and your peaceful vacation back in your home dimension was a bliss escape away from your tiring job.

You didn’t hate your job; in fact, it was just the opposite. Since you were in middle school, you always had an unrivaled passion for chemistry, as many Spiders were. Your life before getting bitten by that spider was mainly winning science fairs, calibration rooms, and working towards your Ph.D. Even after becoming your New York’s one and only Spiderwoman, your academic pursuit never ceased, eventually landing yourself at the prestigious Alchemax. However, it was because you had secured such a high-profile job that you caught the attention of the Spider Society, in the form of its leader, Miguel. He somehow knew that you were on the path to creating a more stable version of Rapture, and because of this, he was persistent in roping you into his ranks.

At first, you had declined profusely, briskly walking away from where he had approached you in Central Park. The brisk walk eventually turned into a full-on Spider chase, although the uniqueness of his abilities seemed to distract you. The talons that protruded from his fingers that tore through metal like paper, the neon-red nature of his webs, and his fangs. His fangs were what intrigued you the most. Eventually, you were pincered by him and another Spiderwoman named Jessica, who would later become one of your best friends.

Alas, you accepted, although not until being lured in by the offer of all the technology and scientific advancements you could imagine in Nueva York. The first time you had entered the HQ’s lab, you were like a kid in the candy store. You loved your job, which involved tailoring different types of chemical equipment, unique for each Spider that came by, as well as equally unique medicines and antidotes for the medical ward. 

Your main job, however, was developing the Rapture injection, the one you were recruited for, almost daily. And for who other than your broody boss? Even though he hadn’t left the best impression after chasing you like a madman in your hometown, you were required to work with him. And in the beginning, it would be an understatement to say it was challenging. Miguel was a whirlwind of sarcastic remarks and impatience who constantly nagged you for any updates. And to make it worse, each morning, you would make your way to Miguel’s office and inject him with your experimental Rapture of the day. Then in the evening, you would return to observe the effects. The days consisted of constant complaints that you were late, that the injection didn’t have the intended effect, and that Rapture was your top priority, all of which were grating on your soul. 

Since your daily routine started and ended with Miguel, your relations grew slightly amicable over time. It started with silent gestures of gratitude: a cup of steaming coffee left in your office in the lab, bringing extra dinner for him during the end-of-the-day check-ups. After 3 months of your stay at the Society, you both started communicating with your watches (He was insistent that you call the watches gizmos, to which you adamantly refused). At first, it was only about work and your Rapture progress. The conversations then slowly changed into more casual ones, topics ranging from your pets back home to him venting his frustrations about the shenanigans of whatever Hobie was up to that day. Sure, he was slightly more friendly (which wasn’t a feat considering who he was), but his irritable nature was still a turn-off for you, and the sarcasm leaping into every evaluation didn’t help either. You considered him lucky that he was quite the eye candy. He was actually pretty attractive whenever he shut his mouth.

This particular morning was your official return to Nueva York after two weeks, so you decided you would put a bit more effort into your routine. Reluctantly, you rose from your bed and stumbled towards your bathroom, wincing at the harsh cold of its floor underneath your feet. You allowed yourself a moment of bliss under your hot shower, trying your best to wash away any stress you were anticipating that day. Once you had finally stepped out of the shower, you quickly dried yourself off and wrapped a plush towel securely around your body, trying your best not to slip as you trudged over to the bathroom counter. Admittedly, you weren’t the most graceful Spider; you were on the smarter side.

Then it was the usual sequence of your routine. Brushing and blow-drying your hair, skincare, and makeup. Just as you were about to make your way to your closet, you realized that you had forgotten your lotion, which you would’ve considered disastrous. Nothing bothered you more than your own dry skin. By habit, you were about to reach for the usual bottle until an unopened box tempted you from the corner of your eye. As you turned it around in your hands and delicately unpackaged it, you silently chastised yourself for almost forgetting. It was a body butter, given to you by Jessica during a surprise visit on Christmas day.

“This is from Lyla. She says to thank her later,” Jessica had said on that day vaguely before giving a brief hug.

Unscrewing the lid from the jar, you smiled to yourself. If there was anyone other than Jessica that you truly missed over your break, it was Lyla. The hologram assistant never failed to make you smile with the many ways she’d tease Miguel, but she also never failed in constantly bringing up asking him out. “I don’t care if he’s your boss,” Lyla would say. “I’d know more than anyone if he has the hots for you, and he guess what? He does!” Which was hard to believe, considering his persistent stubbornness in your day-to-day interactions.

Once the lid was finally off, a waft of vanilla with a hint of sandalwood drifted into the air. Inhaling the scent of the butter deeply, you felt oddly touched. This was undeniably a scent that was up your alley, and it was very thoughtful. As you worked it into your skin, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. It was when you were just about finished that you noticed something peculiar. You had caught a subtle whiff of another note, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was elusive, teasing your senses as you racked your brain for what it could possibly be. Figuring it was just an ester you smelled in your various experiments, you left the bathroom to get dressed, with a more confident aura around yourself.

–

Your first day back couldn’t have started any more peculiar.

You had barely gotten the chance to take in the surroundings of your beloved HQ before you were instantly greeted with Hobie swinging in as he called your name, landing just in front of you.

“Evil genius. Heard you’d be back today,” Hobie greeted with his signature half-smile, his lanky arms immediately opening to embrace you. Which was weird, considering he was more of a handshake-y/shadowboxing type of greeter. But he was a joy to have around in your lab (despite him not particularly having too much interest in your work), so you didn’t refuse.

“You’ve gotten taller,” you replied with a grin on your face, happily accepting his embrace. While it was comforting, you noticed that it was taking a while for him to pull away. Passing it off as mere affection, you pulled away and looked up at Hobie’s face. He seemed almost bewildered as he stared down at you, almost in some sort of trance. Was he looking at your lips? Was he looking further down?

“Uh, Earth-928 to Hobie? Helloo?” you called out, snapping your fingers in front of him repeatedly in an attempt to wake him up. It wasn’t until the 5th or 6th snap that he finally seemed to jolt awake, although still fixated on you.

“Oh. My bad, fam,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You raised a brow at his mannerisms; it was extremely unlike him to act so nervous. You then gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder, and you swore you saw him slightly tense at the feeling.

“So, you got a new cologne or somethin’ like that? Hold on, not cologne…what’s it called? Perfume? Toilettes?” Hobie began rambling, seemingly in a desperate attempt to cover up his uncharacteristic awkwardness.

“Oh, Lyla got me-”

You were cut off by another voice shouting your name to your left. It was one of the many Peters. “How’s my favorite scientist been? How was your vacay?”

“Just stayed at home,” you answered, a bit startled as you tried to split your attention between Peter and Hobie. “Anyways, Lyla-”

Another voice chimed in behind you. “I heard your universe is one of the most beautiful. You were definitely up to something.” Then another. “It’s been forever since I last saw you!” Another. “Wanna come eat with us at the caf?”  You even heard Ben’s voice, to which you were surprised he had taken a break from his usual moping to join the ever-growing commotion around you. “You smell nice!” Soon, all the greetings and compliments became a garbled mess in your ears, your view obscured by a wall of Spiders.

You tried your best to force on a polite smile as you tried to weave your way through the oncoming traffic of people. To you, this was completely unexpected and foreign. Sure, you had made lots of friends in your time at HQ, but people weren’t exactly buzzed to see you. At most, you’d get a friendly wave as you passed by each other in the twisty pathways. Now, they acted like you were an oasis in a desert.  As you whipped your head around, you noticed something in the ever-growing crowd around you: it was all Spidermen. That irked you slightly; you had made many Spiderwomen friends as well. Where were they? Becoming slightly dizzy with the growing clamor around you, you were just about ready to web yourself up to the ceiling and swing your way to your lab.

As if your prayers were miraculously answered, the familiar rev of an engine overpowered the clamor of the Spidermen, and they immediately parted ways down the middle to reveal Jessica, staring at you with an amused grin as she sat on her motorcycle.

"I’ll take you to HQ if you tell me what the hell’s going on!” Jessica offered, her voice raised so that you could hear.

Instant relief flooded through your body as you nearly sprinted your way to Jessica, planting a grateful kiss on her cheek before hopping on the back of the motorcycle. As you both sped away, you still waved goodbye to the Spidermen, despite how weird you had felt mere seconds prior. As if things couldn’t get any weirder, you noticed that the crowd you had left behind had almost immediately dispersed, with only some lingering around to chat.

“God, Jess. I’ve been here for two minutes, and I think I’ve already had the weirdest day out of everyone here!” you remarked loudly with a heavy sigh. You linked your arms around Jessica’s waist to remain stable on the motorcycle, eyes squinted from traveling at such a high speed.

Jessica only seemed to chuckle in response as she steered through the complicated structure, towards your lab. “Yeah? Try being pregnant!” she called out over the wind, her curls tossing about in the wind.

Your eyes widened immediately upon the revelation. “You’re lying, shut up,” you scolded, immediately feeling over Jessica’s stomach to verify it. Lo and behold, your hands smoothed over the beginnings of a bump, which caused you to squeal out in excitement. “Oh my god, Jess! When is it due?!”

“6 months! So don’t hold on so tight!” Jessica chided playfully as she effortlessly navigated her way through the building, shouting at countless Spiders to move out of her way. You held on for dear life, but of course, not too tight.

Eventually, you reached your beloved lab, to which you both entered. The door hissed closed behind you, and after you had set your bag down, you immediately sprung into action. This was simultaneously your sanctuary and your training, where you were at your best. Jessica watched from a nearby stool, gently holding her stomach.

“So this is where you cook up the good stuff, hm?” Jessica quipped, her eyes glued to the liquid that was poured into an instant syringe.

“Somebody’s gotta keep the boss alive,” you chuckled, your meticulous hands carefully measuring out just the right amount of Rapture before sealing it closed. This was the new batch that you had been working on at home, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager to show Miguel. “Speaking of which, I’ll need a lift there.” Packing the syringe into a box, you motioned for Jessica to come with you as you began to walk toward the sealed doors. That was until you were stopped by your pregnant friend’s hand in your face.

“Hold up, hon. You still never explained what was going on out there,” Jessica reminded you in a stern tone with an equally stern look.

“Jess, I wanna know as much as you do.” You paused, taking a deep breath as you recounted the event. “Maybe it's just a…welcome committee thingy.”

Jessica gave you a pointed look as a scoff left her lips. “Welcome committee, my ass. Those guys were like pirates, and you were a siren. It was more like a…’Welcome Back, I Would Die For Your Attention’ committee.”

As much as you wanted to bite back, it was unfortunate that she was right. While most of the Spider-folk were kind, as they tended to be, they were never that eager to see you before. People you thought you could never shake were in the crowd. Did it feel nice? You were ashamed that it did, just slightly, but perhaps for a different reason than you thought.

Perhaps Miguel would be the same.

Noting your silence and your brows creased in thought, Jessica gave you a reassuring smile as she stood to pat you on the back. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop messing with you,” she chuckled, giving you a gentle push toward the door. “But something’s up, and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, let me know when you figure it out. I’d like to know too,” you said as you narrowed your eyes at her, although you could never keep a serious face with your best friend as you broke out into a smile.

With that, you both stepped out of the lab, only to be immediately greeted by another crowd of Spidermen that had gathered outside the entrance. Your face twisted into annoyance as you looked to Jessica for help.

“Move, people!” she shouted out above the onslaught of chattering Spidermen. “Unless you want to work with Miguel for a week!” With that, the crowd easily dispersed, scattering like…well, spiders. Despite the situation you were in, you were glad that many of them felt the same way about working with Miguel. Outside of work, he was bearable, but his free time was rare.

After another short ride on Jessica’s motorcycle through the complex, you reached Miguel’s office. You took a deep breath, giving your friend a firm nod as you prepared to walk through the automatic doors. As soon as you were about to take a step, Lyla apparated in front of you, sliding down her heart-shaped shades to get a good look at you.

“It’s been forever! Just know I’d hug you if I could,” the assistant exclaimed with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on her. Her playful antics were infectious, and her cheery tone seemed to wipe away the stress the day had accumulated so far. “Sooo, how’d you like your gift?”

“Oh! Right, uh, I’m wearing it right now,” you stammered out, feeling terrible. The morning had been so hectic that you forgot to seek out Lyla and thank her properly. Your response made Jessica raise a brow and lean over toward you, taking a whiff. You looked at her. “What do you think?”

“You smell sweet,” Jessica remarked, then paused, as if analyzing your scent a bit more. “And…womanly.”

Lyla seemed to nod eagerly at this statement, her virtual eyes glinting with curiosity as she prodded at you further. “And what’s it like?”

Perplexed by the wording of the question, you hesitated to answer. What on earth did either of them mean? Everyone was acting strange today. “Um, the vanilla is really nice, I had no idea you knew that I liked that sort of stuff. It was very thoughtful, Lyla.”

Lyla continued to stare at you a bit more intently, seeming to wait for another answer from you until she seemed to give up. “That’s good, I’m glad you love it,” she replied, though there was a hint of something enigmatic in her response. As if she were physically standing in front of the door to the office, Lyla stepped to the side, gesturing for them to go in as the doors slid open. “You can come in, but consider yourself warned. Miguel’s cranky at the moment.”

“When is he not?” You muttered, mostly to yourself, but you could hear Jessica snicker at your side as you both strolled in. The familiar hum of Miguel’s futuristic machinery filled your ears, the metallic interior of his office coldly greeting her eyes. When you first spotted your boss up on his platform (which was redundant, in your opinion), he was already wearing his suit. You swore he always wore it to show off his physique. He had his back turned to the both of you, seeming to intently stare at the screens and holograms in front of him blankly.

“Does he ever not do that?” Jessica muttered under her breath to you as you both stared ahead. It was so simple for her to break your resolve, pressing your lips together in a tight line to prevent yourself from letting out even the smallest sound.

“Are you ever not late?”

Miguel’s sharp voice immediately cut through the playful nature that surrounded the two of you. The smile immediately dropped from your face, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. How could somebody already be so irritated? The day hadn’t even started.

You glanced toward Jessica briefly before answering, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was just stuck in the lobby-”

“Yeah, I saw,” Miguel interjected coldly as he turned his head toward the hologram-screen that displayed the security feed. With a simple flick of his hand, the screen swiped out of view as he turned to face you, his face twisted into an unfamiliar emotion, albeit clearly not a pleasant one. “Really glad you had the time to mingle. Not like we’re on a schedule or anything.”

If Miguel hadn’t been 6’9” of almost entirely pure muscle, you swore you would’ve swung up and lunged at him like a rabid animal. Would it have killed him to be just a bit understanding? He was watching you through the feed, how was any of that your fault? His mockery and grumpy attitude were things you’d grown used to, but today, it was particularly biting. It seemed…personal.

Jessica seemed to feel the same way as you heard her snort audibly in response. This directed his attention towards her, his glare unwavering. “And you,” he began, pointing a finger directly at her. “What did I tell you about riding that thing through my building?”

“ Our building,” she bit back, her posture nonchalant as she lazily examined her nails. “How about you yell at the people who got in her way, smart guy?”

Miguel rolled his eyes at her remark, seemingly ready to go back and forth until he glanced down at her stomach. He then shook his head, gesturing to shoo her away. “I…I don’t even wanna get into it with you. Just…get out.”

Elbowing you lightly, Jessica leaned closer to you with a smirk. “See? Pregnancy perks,” she joked. “But I would’ve preferred a vacation.” You clamped a hand over your mouth to stop the fit of laughter you felt rising.

“¡Oye! Are you even listening?!” Miguel hissed at Jessica, pointing towards the doors. Genuinely, you admired her patience, as she didn’t even flinch. Giving you a look that clearly meant “good luck”, your best friend gently patted you on the back before taking her leave. You stared until her figure disappeared behind the automatic doors, and then you became all too aware that you and Miguel were alone. The air in the room grew tense as you attempted to quell the irritation rising within you.

Once you turned back to look up at Miguel, he was running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in somewhat of a stressed manner as he was fixated on another screen. Without sparing you another glance, he spoke up again, the words barely even louder than the quiet buzz of the hologram projectors. “The Rapture. Get up here,” he muttered, slowly pacing back and forth on his levitated platform.

Tucking the box securely in your (thankfully) deep pockets, you made sure to secure it tightly, the contents too delicate to leave dangling so carelessly. Mentally preparing yourself for the incoming 5 minutes you had to spend with Miguel, you flung your wrist towards the edge of his platform, a silky web instantly connecting the two. Pulling on the tensile web, you gave yourself enough momentum to fling yourself up onto it, landing opposite to where he was standing—one of your more graceful landings.

His back was still turned to you as you pulled the box out of your pocket, carefully extracting the syringe with your latest creation. Staring down at it proudly, you stood on your feet and cautiously approached Miguel. “Worked on this one during vacation,” you said, not necessarily caring if he had anything to say about it. “Think it’s my best one yet.”

Miguel’s shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep exhale, intent on reading the details of his upcoming mission. “It better be,” was all he muttered, holographic nature of his suit fading away in a patch on his left shoulder, his usual injection site. Placing your right hand tentatively against his shoulder blade, you held the syringe up to his skin, ready to administer until you noticed something. You gently pressed a finger against his skin, and it was almost as if the muscle was made of rocks.

“You need to relax your shoulder, boss,” you remarked, your focus beginning to trail across the expanse of his back. It almost seemed to ripple constantly from how tense they were. Usually, this process was the easy part, and you both had done this dozens of times. 

“Yep. Got it.” A muscle in his neck flexed slightly.

“Is something bothering you?” you asked cautiously, observing his odd behavior. Seriously, him too? What was up with everyone today?

“ Mierda , just get on with it,” he grumbled, an obvious strain in his tone.

“If you say so,” you whispered, injecting the green liquid into his system. Once again, it was different. A sharp inhale escaped his lips as he winced; you caught a glimpse of his eyes flashing a bright red in the reflection of his monitors. The eyes were normal, it happened every time. But it never caused him discomfort before. Concern was etched across your features as you took a step back, your eyes scanning over his body. 

“Seriously, Miguel. Is there something I should know?” you asked with a huff, placing a hand on his other shoulder to turn him around. However, when you were finally able to his expression for the first time, it was nothing like you had ever expected. His eyes were clouded over as they locked onto yours, a rawness in his gaze that made you shudder. His jaw was clenched, muscles taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed deeply. You even noticed the cadence of his exhales, each one sounding as if he was barely in control. Was this an adverse reaction to the Rapture? Uneasiness began to settle into your skin. Was this your fault? You worriedly placed a hand against his forehead to feel his temperature, now noticing the sweat that had begun to dot across his forehead. 

He wasn’t even stopping you or making any snide remarks. Something was definitely wrong.

“Lyla?” you called out into the void of his office as you retracted your hand. “Show me his vitals.”

“No, Lyla, don’t even think about it,” Miguel objected through gritted teeth. You both were only greeted by Lyla’s familiar giggle as a hologram screen materialized behind Miguel, displaying his various vitals.

“You’re supposed to work for me ,” he grunted.

“Misclick! Oops, gotta go-” Lyla taunted, the sound of her program shutting off following. You swore you heard him mutter “chinga tu madre” under his breath.

As you read through the different stats, you only seemed to confuse yourself more. His body temperature was slightly elevated, but nowhere close to a fever. No production of histamines, so no allergies. Nothing from the injection seemed to affect any aspect of his body. His heart rate, however, was through the roof. Surely Spider-people don’t get heart attacks, right? You were about to instruct Lyla until a certain statement in his vital report caught your eye.

Elevated levels of oxytocin present.

Those words seemed to knock the wind right out of your stomach, struggling to find the words to say as you froze in place. Was there something you missed when you were gone? Miguel just suddenly had a thing for you? Racking your brain, you tried to think of any way this could have developed. Maybe distance does make the heart grow fonder. Would you be disrespecting yourself if this was fine with you? 

Suddenly, images of your time with him began to pop up in your mind, but they were now corrupted. You thought of the way his quadriceps flexed as he carried boxes into your new office, the hitch of his breath every time you gave him a new injection, and simply how large he was in comparison to you. Your free hand began to fidget with the hem of your shirt, letting your gaze fall anywhere but him. You were certain your cheeks looked like they had been pinched. The both of you stood there, unsure of what to do, an awkward silence engulfing the room.

As if unable to endure this situation any longer, Miguel muttered a curse under his breath before he moved swiftly, hopping down from the platform. He seemed eager to escape his office, which was strange; this was where he usually holed up before and after missions. The sound of his footsteps rang in your ears, finalizing the fact that you were now standing alone, your mind a whirlwind of chaos. But with each step he took, the more you felt your heartbeat in your ears, the steady rhythm urging you to follow him. To demand one ounce of clarity from him. He couldn’t just leave you here.

“Miguel, wait,” you called out, shooting a web to the floor and flinging yourself after him. Once you had landed, you kept pursuing him, but he quickened his pace. Your mind flashed back to when he had chased you through Central Park, and a smile snuck its way onto your lips. It only made you even more relentless, your gait quickening.

Once you were close enough to him, you reached out, your hand gently tapping the broadness that was his back, a silent plea for him to acknowledge what had just been uncovered between the both of you. After receiving no response, you sighed in exasperation. “Miguel, please,” you implored. “Could you tell me-”

Miguel pivoted abruptly, the intensity in his gaze disorienting as you felt him tightly grip your wrist. Despite not having done much, his breaths were almost ragged. His eyes were glazed over, dropping down from yours just for a moment, stealing a glance at your body before returning it to a respectable place. 

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he grunted through his teeth, his voice low as it wavered with a hint of vulnerability. Despite his efforts to keep it down, the question echoed throughout the confines of his empty office.

As you tried to wiggle your wrist away, you realized it would be a waste of effort to try, so you let him. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with wide eyes. You knew for a fact that he could feel your heartbeat with the way he was gripping it, and you were certain it beat like a rabbit’s. Hopelessly caught off guard, you stammered, “I…I don’t know. It isn’t the Rapture, I promise, I did every-”

“Don’t you give me that,” he cut you off, his words seeming to slice through whatever resolve you had left. “I know it’s not the damn Rapture. It’s you. I know it’s you. You’re in my head.”

The admission hung in the air between you two, another thing that only seemed to confuse you further that day. Miguel’s eyes bore into yours, its murky depths desperately searching yours for any answers. But he was only greeted by ones who were as clueless as he was. As he stared down at your wrist that was so easily enveloped by his hand, it seemed to spur him on. Impulsively, Miguel gripped you by your frame and whirled you around, pushing you against the metallic wall, his arms forming a cage around you.

You felt like you were caught in the eye of the storm of emotions that were building up inside him. You were utterly dwarfed by his figure. Sure, you always knew that he was tall, but you never had been this up close and personal before. As you glanced over at the arms that had caged you in like an animal, you fought the urge to run your hand over the ripple of his biceps that were almost staring at you right in the face. Realizing you were definitely focusing on the wrong thing, your eyes met his once again, each time becoming more difficult than the last. Whatever he had to say, you had no choice but to hear it.

“I can’t control it,” he continued, the words escaping like a reluctant exhale. That part was obvious enough. “The moment you stepped into HQ, every damn thought is you. Coño , I can’t even read one sentence of the mission brief with you right behind me. I’m doing things before I even think. I want to hate it.”

The weight of his words settled over you, sinking deep into your skin as you felt yourself burn up again. His sudden infatuation made you realize all the flirty comments and gentlemanly gestures that had been following you all morning. Sure, it was similar, but none of them seemed to be affected more than Miguel. What was it? Swallowing thickly, you mustered the courage to speak, to test the waters. “But you…don’t hate it?” you breathed, your chest seizing with regret as soon as the words left your lips.

Miguel’s brows furrowed, and you had trouble discerning what emotion was causing it. “I don’t,” he choked out, his voice dropping to a whisper. “So fix it.” “What?” His demand hung in the air, a fervent and pleading demand. “I said, fix it,” he insisted, his words taking on a rougher tone. One of his hands slid down from the wall, and he poked accusingly at your chest, just at the top of your sternum. “Whatever you’re doing, fix it,” he persisted, his voice akin to a low growl that sent pleasurable tingles down your spine. “Or I will.” “I don’t know how,” you shamefully admitted, your words laced with sincerity. Your eyes were blown wide upon seeing how intense he was up close, you could hear his labored breaths. The silence that followed your answer lingered between the both of you, both searching each other’s expressions just for one hint, a clue as to how to proceed from that moment. Miguel had always made the decisions, not you, and seeing him at a total loss for words had also stumped you. “I– um, you said that it was when I arrived, right?” you sputtered out, desperate to say anything to ease the heavy tension that was beginning to crush the both of you. Your eyes tried to lock on anywhere that wasn’t Miguel, but it proved difficult when his figure loomed over you. “I can just, uh…go home? Yeah! I can go back home for the day, and I–” And then, with a suddenness that left you without your words, Miguel’s hands retracted from the walls at your sides, cupping your face. Without letting another beat of your heart pass, he surged forward, all too quickly, then his lips were on yours. 

At first, your mind tried to make sense of what was happening. This was Miguel O’Hara, your boss, and a rude one at that. The same guy who always scolded you for the smallest of reasons. Not only would it be inappropriate to continue, but a blow to your self-respect. Yet, in the moment that followed, you felt his tongue gently graze against your bottom lip, and all logic seemed to dissolve and wash away, surrendering to his kiss. You should have been embarrassed that you had to reach up so far to wrap your arms around his neck, but he hunched over to make it easier on you.

He seemed to have been waiting for any sort of response from you. His hands moved with purpose, falling from your face to claw at your body, exploring the curves of your back as if he wanted to burn every detail to his memory. The fevered kiss he gave you ceased for a moment, a curse just barely able to escape from his lips before he began to bury his head into your shoulder. He began to leave openmouthed kisses to the smooth, delicate skin of your neck, his canines gently prodding at the skin. The sting seemed to tease you, to ask you how far you were willing to let him go.

“So you are a vampire,” you remarked breathlessly, whining softly at each slow, tantalizing kiss.

You aren’t able to see it, but you feel the way his lips curve up into a smirk against you. The laugh that followed was mind-bogglingly euphoric, the vibrations rippling against the expanse of your neck so deliciously that the heat building between your legs became nearly impossible to ignore. Your hands trail down from his shoulders and smooth over his chest, an action that you found to elicit the prettiest sounds from your boss. You didn’t even know he was capable of such a thing. You wanted to know what else he was capable of.

“You want it here?” you asked, your hands gently pushing against his chest in an attempt to make him pay attention to your words. But it was like he couldn’t pry himself from you. You were given a mere grunt in response, and you felt his calloused hand hold the back of your neck, stroking your nape tenderly. With his face still buried against your skin, he inhaled the scent of you deeply. That alone seemed to make his yearning nature worse, his words barely escaping past the low whine that resonated in his throat.

“Wherever I can fucking have you,” Miguel said as he grasped you, hands cupping just beneath your jaw as his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks. The way he looked at you, half-lidded, pleading, and absolutely drunk off of your body, sent your mind reeling and melted your limbs as you pushed yourself into him. Your eyes darted around for a suitable place, but Miguel’s office wasn’t necessarily 5 stars when it came to comfort. Raising your head, your gaze locked onto the platform you both were just on. Meekly, you point up towards it, unsure if he would satisfy your request. His head followed as you reached out, and he vaguely scoffed.

You were about to suggest another place until his strong arm secured its way around your waist, and suddenly, you were being hoisted into the air alongside your boss. A yelp escaped your throat out of shock, desperately gripping onto Miguel’s body despite knowing you wouldn’t fall. The gesture made him chuckle in a way you had never heard before, the sound hearty and resounding deeply in his chest. And it seemed to drug you and fill your veins with such an unyielding desire; it made you wonder how something so simple as a laugh further fueled this indecorous addiction to him.

Before you even knew it, you were seated in the middle of the platform with him kneeling beside you. As you stared up at him, you were unsure of what to do. But it was like he had read your mind, resulting in a roll of his eyes and his sarcastic nature making a brief return. 

“You planning to just sit there?” Miguel huffed as he dragged you closer to him. “Lay down.” His tone is so enticingly irrefutable, so you comply, your back hitting the platform, the cold metal making you shudder. You stared up at him, curious as to how he was going to do this.

Slotting himself in between your legs, his fingers desperately tugged at the waistband of your pants before doing away with them entirely, barely noticing that he had taken your underwear with it. He marveled at what he had revealed, carefully tugging your legs apart as if he wanted to worship it further. His eyes flicked up to your face for just a painstaking moment, and it was hot from anticipation, worsening as he hovered between your legs, pressing kisses along your inner thighs.

“You want this?” he murmurs, his words deep and gravelly. You eagerly nod, fighting the urge to shiver from the coldness that overtook your lower half.

Suddenly, you didn’t have to worry much about the cold the moment you felt his warm breath graze you in just the right way. He pressed a wet, languid kiss to your heat, the saliva his tongue was slathering you with mingling with the arousal that began to pool. You were amazed at how effortlessly his ministrations manipulated your body, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each pleasured exhale. When did he have the time to be so good at this sort of thing?

Soon, you were introduced to his fingers, so lengthy and thick that they had your eyes rolling into the back of your head as they plunged inside you. Each call of his name seemed to spur him on, increasing his tempo and the lewd, obscene noises that echoed across his office. Before you even knew it, all of it was too much; the subtle curling and pumping of his girthy fingers, the flick of his tongue; it was like a wave had crashed over you, sending your thighs into convulsions. He slowed his movements as each thrust of his fingers grew more wet, easing you down from your high. The delicate touches lasted for a mere second before you were flipped over, your hips being dragged back as you felt your behind press against the outline of the stiff, rock-hard muscle at his crotch, a testament to how much he had been craving you.

What followed was a sweetly painful, visceral blur. You had heard the sound of his holographic suit retracting itself, and you turned your head, curious as to what you’d see. He smiled smugly at your doe-eyed expression upon seeing his goods, and the only thing occupying your mind was if he could fit at all. It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting it, he was a behemoth of a man after all. But seeing it up close, anticipating its entry was an entirely different beast.

But Miguel was experienced, having dutifully prepared you to take him, making it a more easy experience as his tip prodded your entrance gently, slowly easing himself in. The stretch was undeniably painful, your fingers clutching at the floor, desperately looking for something to hold onto. But as he pushed in further, the feeling transformed into a euphoric ache. He had been trying his best to remain silent to not attract any attention from the outside, but your name managed to fall from his mouth in a hoarse groan, harmonizing with the pathetic whines that you had been letting out. His hands pinned your wrists against the floor, the freezing nature of the floor beneath you contrasting with the heat that bounced between your bodies.

His vigorous pace slightly rocked the platform beneath you, threatening to tip over if Miguel had a mind to get rougher. However, he seemed to know his limits, effortlessly filling you up in a way that could satisfy you for lifetimes. Crude phrases left your swollen lips, each one a way to praise the man that was fucking you like his next mission was his last. The sound of your skin colliding with him was growing filthier with each second, more carnal. For a fleeting second, your mind filled with worry, anxious about anybody that could have been waiting outside his office. Anyone who stood within a 5-yard radius from the entrance could hear just about anything that was going on inside. But his fingers then came up to slither their way into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back far enough so he could whisper in your ear. “Keep talking, say you want me. Say it.”

And soon enough, you were begging for him, arms shaking as you struggled to hold yourself up as ripples of your orgasm traveled throughout your body, your slick absolutely drenching the both of you. Your pleas were what had done him in, his rhythm stuttering and his length pulsing inside you, unsheathing himself as he emptied himself all over your ass, the viscous liquid dripping slowly down its curve. For a moment, the both of you stayed where you were, worn-out breaths being the only thing you both could exchange as you tried to wrap your head around what you had done.

Surprisingly, Miguel had a thought for aftercare. He had retrieved a gym towel and cleaned you up, wiping away his release and your sweat as best as he could. “Still think you have to shower, though,” he commented, the smug undertone in his voice not going unnoticed.

“Back at you,” you quipped, though the smile never left your face as you redressed yourself.

You never thought you would have to try to sneak your way out of Miguel’s office, but considering how disheveled you were after your tryst with him, it was the only way to keep your dignity intact. The air outside was cooler, freezing against your skin that still burned with the residual warmth of his hands all over you. You shuddered. You definitely needed a cold shower.

After grabbing your spare clothes from your office, you found yourself in the ladies’ room. Stripping off your sweat-ridden clothes (you had a mind to scold him for not taking them off), you hopped into one of the showers and slid the privacy curtain shut behind you. The warm water was comforting, easily washing away the feeling of sex away from your body, but what remained emotionally was unexpected. The thought of seeing him again.

A nervous energy gnawed at your heart as you mindlessly lathered soap all over your body. The both of you just had a steamy hookup, but what would happen now? Your insides seemed to twist as you remembered the fact that seeing him at the end of the day was inevitable. The water from your showerhead seemed to pelt down at your skin now, creating an atmosphere perfect for overthinking. Was it a one time thing? Did he want more? Did he like you? Would he fire you? Thankfully, Miguel was due for a mission today, so you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him before your scheduled time. That would give you enough space to cool your head. 

“Relax,” you told yourself, barely able to hear your thoughts over the pitter-patter of water droplets around you. “You just screwed your boss. Tough it out. Forget about it. Act like it didn’t happen.”

However, the memory of his hands tracing the contours of your back seemed to follow you like a ghost, sending shivers down your spine no matter how much you cranked up the heat of your shower.

–

Enclosed in the white, sterile walled haven that was your lab, you buried yourself in work, hoping that the hum of calibration machines and the countless lab tests were enough to get your mind off of your tumultuous morning. You decided that it wasn’t enough, sliding your headphones over your ears and blasting your favorite playlist on repeat just so you wouldn’t have to hear your inner turmoil.

And it worked, the hours effortlessly passing by in a blur. Holographic displays and paperwork filled your visions, the very tasks you used to complain about becoming a solace on your first day back at your lab. You didn’t expect to get much done considering the crowd you had easily amassed earlier that morning, but strangely, that stopped, and you were thankful. Your usual visitors came in: Gwen, a few Peters, and even Hobie, who apologized profusely for how much of a “halfwit” he was being earlier, all while simultaneously swearing that you would never tell another soul. You agreed, stifling a laugh, knowing you could never be upset with him. Despite feeling confused for what had seemed like the millionth time that day, things seemed to be falling back into place, and it would have been comforting if it hadn’t been for one thing. You couldn’t exactly unfuck your boss. You chastised yourself quietly for thinking about it again; you were doing so well.

Once again, he was consuming your mind to the point where you couldn’t set your mind straight as you tried to come up with a new substance for one of your Spiderwoman clients. She had asked for a chemical that could help her easily attract and control actual spiders in her vicinity. You had a vague idea of how to bring her idea to life, with cetyl acetate sitting in one of your beakers, but you couldn’t quite remember the other component no matter how hard you racked your brain.

You retraced your steps, checking and double-checking the labels of the countless chemicals that sat preciously in your lab. You felt frustration coil up within you as you consulted your reference binder, embarrassed that you even had to look such a simple thing up. By the time you had located the constituent, many a Spider had begun to leave, the chatter outside of your lab winding to a hush. After squeezing a few drops of farnesyl acetate into your beaker, you gave the substances a quick mix, noting how nice it smelt. And how familiar.

Everything building up in you had left you seeking refuge in your dainty office that sat in the corner of the lab. As you closed the door behind you, temporary relief washed over you, and it was then that you decided it would be best if you went home for the day. Retrieving your bag, you sighed as you sank into your chair, weariness finally settling in after hours of constant work. Fishing around your bag for your office key, your fingers brushed against a jar-shaped object. You brought along Lyla’s gift for retouching throughout the day, but it slipped your mind amidst the chaos of the day. Hoping the vanilla scent would ease your thoughts, you unscrewed the cap with purpose, hoping it would ease the tension in your skin.

Just as you were about to apply, the sound of the entrance doors hissing open disrupted your serenity. Ready to tell off whoever was disturbing your peace, you set down the jar, twisted the doorknob open, and stormed out of your office, only to be frozen in place as you were greeted by the one and only Miguel, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. A new cut adorned his face, already in the process of regeneration as it had already scarred over. Different parts of his holosuit were damaged, leaving behind a glitch-like static; were those claw marks? He definitely had a rougher day than you.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “You alright? That looks like it hurt,” you remarked, tentative as you were unsure what the conversation would lead to.

Miguel simply shrugged, his eyes unable to find yours. “I, uh…the anomaly was more intense than I thought. Was a bit distracted, got roughed up,” he said, his voice a rare mix of honesty and humility.

Your brows furrowed together in sympathy despite the unspoken words between the two of you. “Did you need me to whip something up for you?” you offered, moving towards your box of plastic gloves.

It was only then that he looked up at you, his hand coming up, gesturing for you to stop in protest. “No! No, it’s okay. I’ll live.” He met your eyes, and you immediately knew that he was just as unsure as you were, the uncertainty giving way to a hint of vulnerability.

After a hesitant pause, Miguel finally spoke, the moment you were waiting for finally happening. “Look, about earlier…I’m sorry,” his words stumbling out. “It was unexpected.”

Although you had anticipated this answer, you couldn’t help but deflate upon actually hearing it. You weren’t expecting him to fall on his knees and ask for your hand, but you would’ve at least liked to hear him say that he enjoyed it. “You’re sorry? Would you rather have not done it all?” you accused, much to his chagrin.

“I– no, carajo , that’s not what I meant at all,” he sighed in irritation, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s just…it caught us off guard. I’m not sorry it happened, I’m sorry that it was just…sudden, that’s all,” he huffed, not wanting to get into it with you.

For a moment, you pondered over his words. So he wasn’t opposed to sleeping with you. With impulsive thoughts bubbling up inside you, you were prodded to take the leap again. “Would you do it again?” you asked genuinely, an offer to him.

Miguel’s eyes widened in surprise, an exhale of relief shortly following, a chuckle mingled with his words. “Yeah, I’d do it again,” he answered, moving to step closer to you, and you didn’t mind. Just as it seemed as if he was about to sweep you into his arms again, he stopped in his tracks, his head turning to your lab bench as he fixated on the beaker, the one that was carrying your latest project.

Initially, you thought that Miguel was some sort of a stickler for cleanliness, so you felt embarrassed, reaching for your disposable gloves once again. “Oops, I’ll just put that away–”

“No,” he ordered with a familiar intensity in your voice, making you retract back to your original spot. He inched closer to the workbench, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the mixture in the fragile glass. “What is that? Tell me,” he demanded, the urgency in his voice increasing tenfold.

Although you were weirded out by how much this seemed to matter to him, you answered earnestly. “Some…strange project one of the Spiderwomen wanted me to work on. Something to attract spiders, but just the males to prevent them from fighting. Synthetic pheromones, essentially.”

“Huh. Smells like how you did this morning,” he remarked almost immediately, raising a brow in confusion.

You stood there, utterly winded by his words, unsure of what to say. Was he saying this figuratively to flirt with you? But judging from the look in his eyes, he was deadly serious. As your eyes locked onto the concoction that you had made that morning, your mind went to the jar that was sitting on your desk, opened. Without another word, you rushed to your office, taking the jar of body butter and inhaling its aroma deeply. You felt your heart drop to your stomach in terror, the scents were strikingly similar. Turning the jar around in your hands with haste, your eyes scanned for the list of ingredients, silently praying you weren’t rubbing what you thought you were rubbing into your skin.

As you searched, you felt Miguel’s presence right behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he examined the jar with you, inexplicably drawn to it. “What’s that?” he inquired, the strain in his voice from before making a return.

“The lotion I put on this morning,” you said dreadfully, turning your head to look up at him sheepishly. Still confused, he met your gaze only for a moment before he searched through the neverending list of ingredients.

“What did you put in that beaker?”

“Farnesyl acetate and hexadecyl acetate. If it doesn’t say hexadecyl, try cetyl.”

After a minute of searching, Miguel hunched over you to point at a specific spot on the jar. Following his finger, you sighed, laying your eyes on the very thing you didn’t want to see.

“So…” you began awkwardly, unable to wrap your mind around the information bouncing around in your brain. It started to connect like dots: how you attracted the Spidermen in the morning by the dozen, Jessica’s remark about you smelling like a “woman”, Miguel’s sudden lust for you. Then the notable absence of your eager Spider-crowd after your shower. “As your head chemist, I can conclude that spider pheromones can work on…us.”

“Evidently,” Miguel responded, visibly dumbfounded. Seeming eager to prevent more chaos from occurring, he took the jar and its lid from your hands, screwing the lid tightly shut before placing it on your desk carefully. “Where’d you even get something like that?”

“I didn’t. Lyla got it for me,” you confessed. Your mind went to that mischievous hologram. Did she know? Was this a clever attempt to kickstart something between you and Miguel?

“Lyla, that minx...” Miguel trailed off, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling before he squeezed them shut, pinching his nose bridge in an attempt to quell what presumably was a string of curses toward his assistant. Immediately, he swiftly turned around, muttering quietly to himself as he made his way towards his exit. “I ought to give her a piece of my mind…”

You stared after him, about to leave him to his own devices before a thought crossed your mind. You remembered Miguel’s biology, the very thing that made him Spiderman in the first place: his DNA was spliced with one of a spider, effectively making him 50% arachnid. The pheromones you had been unknowingly emitting would affect him more than anyone else, and it proved to be true. An uneasiness settled into your stomach, was that the only reason why he wanted you?

“Wait,” you called after him, your voice betraying your attempted nonchalance. Miguel paused at the doorway, leaning against it as he turned to look at you with an arched brow. His eyes silently asked you to proceed.

“Is it… just the pheromones?” you asked, feeling your stomach twist and turn into knots as you awaited his reply. “You know, about everything, uh, earlier.”

Miguel pushed himself off of the door. “Well, it definitely gave me the push I needed,” he admitted, sauntering over to you with a grin so smug you wanted to smack it off his face. “But, if we’re being honest, I would’ve done it eventually.”

You blinked, processing his words.”You mean that? But you’re kinda mean.”

He sighed loudly, stopping just in front of you. “Idiot. Yes, I mean it,” he muttered, leaning down to cup your cheeks in his hands, his face levelling with yours. “You drive me crazy.”

And the kiss that Miguel left on your lips afterward was more gentle than the hungry, needy one he gave you before, dispelling any doubts you had about the true nature of his feelings. His lips were like heaven, slightly chapped from the labor of his mission from earlier, but you didn’t care. When he pulled away, there was a soft playfulness in his eyes you had never seen before.

“You got it?” he teased, his thumb smoothing over your cheek.

You managed a nod, resulting in Miguel gently patting your cheek before releasing you and turning to leave, still insistent that he give Lyla a piece of his mind. Giggling at his antics, you were about to grab your things to leave until you saw his head pop in the entrance once more. “Yes?” you called out.

“Bottle that thing up and label it as a hazard,” he ordered in response, pointing toward the open beaker on the bench. “It’s damn near chemical warfare,” he mumbled before disappearing again.

“Yes, boss,” you complied, unable to fight the grin that was now plastered to your face. As you bottled up your concoction, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. Again.

originally posted on ao3! first fic i'm ever posting on tumblr and i'm so excited! feedback and suggestions for more stories are more than welcome!

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #spiderman 2099 #oneshot #miguel o'hara oneshot #spiderman oneshot

[beforeimdeceased]

academic rival abby anderson 🎧📓🖊️

𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘣 @munsonsfairy

academic rival!abby who comes over before a big exam insisting that you both need to help each other relieve some stress.

academic rival!abby who praises you to the higher connections she has and has to hide her joy when you get emails enlisting you for opportunities you’d been dreaming about.

academic rival!abby who notices you making a very minor and sleepy mistake and annoyingly whispers “and i thought you were smarter than me?” in your ear. chuckling to herself as you scramble to fix it.

academic rival!abby who insists that she cannot stand you even though she’ll purposely hover near you in the dining hall and sit next to you in the library when her ex is there. “it was either you or her, and i hate to say this but, i’d rather sit with you.”

academic rival!abby who finds it so endearing that you’d forgotten your umbrella on a day where one of the worst storms would be hitting your town. her black jeep wrangler pulling up to you, insisting you get in because now that she’s seen you you’re her responsibility.

academic rival!abby who caught your girlfriend cheating on you and sent you the proof through a burner account. it’s not like she paid her childhood friend to seduce her and take as many pictures and screenshot as she could. promising an extra $100 if she could swiftly complete the task in one week.

academic rival!abby who is rich. not flashy designer rich, but pretentious tailored suit can afford to spend $2,000 a day rich. always sending you gifts under the guise of your out of state grandmother who she visited on a private plane. you still have no idea because she lied about her name and grandma is too old to be straining herself for memories.

academic rival!abby in a suit, pulling you off to the side at a banquet where she refuses to let you meet her heartbreaking hell of a cousin ellie williams. she jumps at the chance to be touchy with you, which shocks you immensely. you make a mental note of it to tease her about later.

academic rival!abby who is so obsessed with the idea of you settling your quips and being together that she waves the white flag first. drunk with confidence she finds herself leading you into an enclosed classroom on campus. a sweet and simple love confession spilling from her lips. one that you catch with a very passionate and long overdue kiss.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby the last of us

[kipper-face-penny-bottle]

Gorgug’s subplot with multiclassing shines a light on something that not a lot of stories discuss: students who are viewed as less academically gifted also frequently receive less academic freedom. Gifted kid burnout is awful. But many teachers are also willing to give students who have been established as gifted more leeway. Efforts to expand their horizons are usually supported and accomadated. Students like Gorgug who struggle with school are generally kept on a strict academic schedule, and other creative pursuits are viewed as a distraction. This means that kids who aren’t the best students have to create extra time for passions while struggling through coursework in an environment that might not feel intuitive. Gorgug has more work because he’s struggling, not in spite of it.

Obviously I can’t speak for every school or every experience, so I apologize if this misrepresents how things went for you. I’m just very tired of seeing schools only tailor ideal, sometimes unconventional academic experiences for brainy kids without extending that flexibility to others.

#gorgug thistlespring #d20 spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 fh spoilers #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy spoilers #fantasy high junior year spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #d20 #dimension 20 #d20 fh #fhjy #d20 fhjy #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high

[bellaveux]

okay but wht if instead of a cheerful reader, theyre serious, strict, and quiet. AND WANDA WOULD BE GOLDEN RETRIEVER TYPE

but oh boy, behind the walls wanda's making reader making noises.

imagine if this is professor! wanda x college student reader too :>

AFTER CLASS | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: your professor, wanda, asks you to stay behind after class.

content warnings: minors dni! professor!wanda maximoff x student!reader, college au, unspecified age gap, smut!; semi public sex, oral and fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms (?), wanda being horny

word count: 3.3k

note: golden retriever gf wanda x black cat!reader im gonna cry (it would also fit the other way around but thinking about wanda being a golden retriever gf is so cute !! )

“Please, meet me after class. I have something important to discuss.”

It was a simple statement — one that you have heard millions of times from this specific professor, who also happened to be your lover. Wanda had developed a somewhat customary routine of asking you, her diligent student and girlfriend, to remain behind after class. The gesture had become so familiar that it had almost taken on an air of expected routine. Wanda's expressive eyes, frequently framed by her glasses, would glint with a mixture of affection and anticipation, while her lips, adorned with a subtle smile, conveyed a tender invitation.

And while you loved being with her, you, ever the dedicated student, found yourself caught in a tug-of-war between your commitment to her academic responsibilities and the allure of being in the presence of your girlfriend. It had become a delicate balancing act, a hesitant dance between your desire to excel in your studies and the yearning to cherish the moments spent with Wanda. Not to mention, she’d often keep you from going to your next class just because her desires for you often left your legs wobbly and your body tired and sleepy, so you’d spend the rest of the day with her, nap in her office for a bit, then she’d let you go to go to your dorm or take you home with her which was what would usually happen.

Sitting in the classroom, you found yourself caught in a tantalizing dichotomy. As your eyes flickered between the pages of your notebook and Wanda, your alluring professor, frustration simmered within you. Another problem. The struggle to concentrate on the subject matter intensified as Wanda commanded the room's attention with effortless grace. Dressed in a form-fitting suit that accentuated her curves and exuded confidence, Wanda possessed an undeniable magnetism that made it near impossible for you to focus on anything else. She always teased you, knowing very well how much you liked it when she left her shirt unbuttoned at the top, only just a hint of her cleavage showing just for you to see. The way Wanda's tailored blazer hugged her slender frame, subtly revealing her silhouette, was both a distraction and a temptation. Your gaze would inadvertently drift from your notes, drawn to the way Wanda's perfectly pressed trousers elongated her legs, highlighting their elegant contours.

With each captivating gesture and poised movement, Wanda effortlessly commanded the attention of the room, her voice carrying an air of intellectual allure. Your heart raced as you observed the subtle nuances of Wanda's expressions, your mind entangled in a constant battle between admiration and yearning.

And it was just as entertaining to Wanda. She loved the way your eyes looked when you stared at her. In every lecture, every discussion, Wanda could feel your eyes, a gaze filled with a mixture of love and curiosity. It delighted her to no end, a secret amusement that sparked joy within her heart. The way your gaze lingered on her, studying her every movement and expression, whispered secrets that words could not convey. It was an intoxicating sensation, the feeling of being the center of someone's world.

And you were quiet; always sitting poised at your desk, diligently taking notes as she spoke, your demeanor radiating an air of reserved seriousness. Your eyes either scanned the pages of your textbook or listened intently with unwavering focus, your every movement exuding a quiet you. You existed as a paradoxical enigma—a reserved, strict, and quiet student whose essence exuded an understated magnetism.

Yet, behind closed doors, Wanda, your passionate and daring lover, held the key to unlocking the dormant passions within you. She was quite the expert in breaking that calm facade of yours. With an intimate understanding of your hidden depths, Wanda possessed the power to awaken the dormant embers, igniting a fiery passion that raged between the two of you. It was in these moments of seclusion that your reserved nature was shed, revealing a vulnerability that echoed through every delicious gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

There were times when Wanda would purposely lock eyes with you, a playful challenge passing between the two of you. In those moments, a silent dialogue unfolded, a dance of shared fascination and unspoken desires. It was a dance that brought a sparkle to Wanda's eyes and quite adorable flush to your cheeks, an unspoken connection that bound you together.

While she had you in her class, she always wished for time to go faster, leading up to the moment when she’d have you alone, all to herself, for her to love you without any interruptions. She thought about you every second of class, missing your touch, your skin, your lips. You’d let her, right? You always do. Because it was her asking.

As the final words of Wanda's lecture echoed in the classroom, your gaze would wander towards the clock, mindful of the ticking seconds that drew you closer to your next class. The familiar request to stay behind reverberated in your ears, accompanied by a soft flutter in your heart. A part of you longed to linger, to bask in the warmth of Wanda's company, to have whispered conversations, to kiss and make love.

“(Y/n). My office,” she said firmly, taking some papers off of her desk before walking through the door of her private workroom.

It was a covert demand, a subtle plea to rendezvous away from prying eyes, to indulge in stolen moments of intimacy.

As the room gradually emptied, Wanda's eyes never wavered from your form, tracing the delicate curves of your face, the softness of your lips, and the sparkle in your eyes as packed your books and papers into your bag. Each passing moment intensified the desire that lay hidden between the two of you, adding a subtle thrill to your secret tryst. Finally, the last student departed, leaving the room bathed in an intimate hush. Wanda's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as she beckoned you closer, your gazes locking in a knowing exchange.

A conflicted sigh fell from your lips as you stood from your seat and made your way over to where Wanda held the door to her office open for you, watching the sexy sway of your hips as you walked. She had to fight to stop herself from grabbing you, pushing you against a wall, then having her way with you. With practiced composure, Wanda maintained an outward appearance of professionalism, her gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside. But beneath the facade, her heart quickened with anticipation, knowing that she was finally alone with you.

She shut the door and turned around to face you, leaning against it as she watched you.

“What did you want to discuss, professor?” you asked, glancing up at the clock above her window.

You stood in the intimate sanctuary of Wanda's office, the air thick with anticipation and an undercurrent of shared desire. The room, adorned with shelves of books and mementos of scholarly pursuits, seemed to come alive as your presence filled the space. Time seemed to slow, suspended in the charged moment, as your eyes took in every detail, waiting for your girlfriend to reply to your question.

With a bated breath, you turned around, your heart skipping a beat at the sight that awaited you.

There, leaning against the doorframe, was Wanda, a radiant smile adorning her face. The soft light filtering through the window illuminated her features, casting a warm glow upon her. In that instant, time stood still once again, encapsulating the profound affection that emanated from Wanda's loving gaze.

And at that moment, you realized what was coming next.

“Wanda…”

Wanda pushed herself off of the door and unbuttoned her suit jacket before walking towards you and placing her hands on your hips, “Stay. Please?”

“Wanda, I have to get to my next class.”

“No, no, no. Stay,” she pleaded, leaning forward to litter gentle kisses along your jaw down to the side of your neck. “Please, stay. I want you.”

You kept your hands at her shoulders, not sure whether you wanted to push her away or keep her close as she kissed your skin in a way that made your knees go weak.

“No, Wanda—“

“Look, I’ll send an email or a note, or something. I’ll make up some excuse,” she said quickly, shooting you with those puppy eyes that always seemed to get you to agree to whatever she was saying. “Please, baby. I’ll be quick, promise. I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”

And it worked.

You stood before her, your expression a tapestry of conflicted emotions. A sigh escaped your lips once more, a breath laden with a blend of disbelief and surrender. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment that you were about to relinquish control, bending the rules of convention to fulfill Wanda's desire. As you met Wanda's gaze, your eyes betrayed a flicker of disbelief, an incredulous awe that danced within their depths. It was as if the gravity of the moment, the realization that you were about to give in to Wanda's request, weighed upon you like a beautiful burden.

Wanda, on the other hand, couldn't contain her excitement, a radiant joy that illuminated her entire being. The corners of her lips curled upward, revealing a playful and endearing smile. Her eyes sparkled with childlike enthusiasm, mirroring the delight that bubbled within her. Your decision to stay, to sacrifice another class just to be in Wanda's presence, filled her heart with warmth and tenderness.

You glared at her, mumbling softly enough for her to hear, “Don’t rip anything.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Wanda, her eyes sparkling with delight, couldn't help but break into a warm and affectionate smile as she beheld your commitment to grant her deepest desires. With a tender grace, Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. Her lips met yours, sighing in relief as you moaned into her mouth.

In the delicate space between your lips, Wanda felt an electric surge of desire coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just the touch of your lips that sparked a radiant smile upon Wanda's face; it was the intoxicating sound that escaped from your mouth, blending seamlessly against her tongue.

You, known for your reserved nature and quiet demeanor, were a symphony of contradictions in that moment. The gentle melody of your moans reverberated against Wanda's lips, a harmonious composition that stirred a wellspring of emotions within both of you. Each sweet, muffled sound that escaped your throat spoke volumes, revealing a side of you that had long been kept hidden from the world. As Wanda smiled into the kiss, she marveled at the power she held over your inhibitions. The way your body trembled against hers, the way your moans seamlessly merged with the shared breaths, all spoke of profound trust and surrender. It was an exquisite revelation, an invitation into the depths of your desires.

In that stolen moment, Wanda tasted not only the sweetness of your lips but also the vulnerability and passion that emanated from within her. Your moans, once silenced in the shadows of your reserved nature, now spilled forth with unbridled intensity. The sounds echoed with a mixture of pleasure, longing, and the liberation of self-expression.

But, soon, Wanda remembered she wasn’t in the confines of her home, where you could be as loud as she wanted. The two of you were still in her office, a private room within her lecture hall — a room that was definitely not soundproof.

Wanda sighed, whispering against your lips, “I want to taste you.”

You almost felt lightheaded with the way she began to kiss you behind your ear, down to the curve of your neck, and her hands sneaking their way under your shirt and underneath your skirt, pulling them up roughly. Wanda pushed you with her body until your backside hit the front of her desk, groaning when you clawed at her jacket.

“Try to stay quiet for me, baby,” she said, her hands playing at the hem of your skirt. “Okay?”

You nodded quickly, reaching up to put a hand on her hair, tugging at it lightly just the way she likes it, “Yeah.”

Wanda smiled once again and gave you another searing kiss before she slowly made her way down to her knees. She knelt, her face leveled with your skirt as she pushed your hips against the desk, holding you still. After a moment of enjoying the way you gripped onto her hair lightly even when she hadn’t began doing anything yet, Wanda let her hands run along the back of your soft thighs, trailing them upwards to your ass as she hooked your lace panties on her thumbs. She also remembered her promise, fighting the urge to rip your panties right off of you.

“Did you dress up all pretty for me, baby?” She smiled against the fabric of your skirt, slow hands pulling your underwear off, then stuffing them into her back pocket for safekeeping.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster out as you stared down at Wanda.

“Of course, you did,” she looked up at you with a sly smile. “Makes it so easy for me to fuck you.”

Her fingers slip through your folds softly, coating them with your slick. She made you watch as she brought her fingers up to her lips, letting her mouth wrap around her own digits, groaning at the taste of you on her tongue. And you could see it — how wet you were. It dripped along her rings, down the back of her hand, and to the watch on her wrist.

Before you could even protest, Wanda’s head disappeared under your skirt, eyes finally meeting the gorgeous sight of your beautiful cunt. She didn’t know if it was just because she was in love with you, but she had never seen a prettier pussy. Your scent filled her nostrils each second she came closer, drawing her in like a moth to a flame, up until she pressed a gentle kiss on your clit. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly as she continued to kiss your pussy, before her tongue darted out to lick your slick from your entrance all the way up to your clit.

“Fuck…” Wanda breathed to herself, moaning at your warmth and sweetness. God, you tasted so good.

You trembled against her as she worked her tongue on your pussy, clasping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. Wanda hummed against your clit, vibrations making you stutter slightly as she listened to you struggle to keep quiet. Her hands gripped your thighs open as she continued to delve deeper over your most sensitive parts.

After a moment, Wanda eased a finger into you, mouth moving to work over your sensitive clit as she curled her finger against your walls. You gasped when she did so, hips squirming against her desk.

“W-Wanda,” you breathed out quietly, your hand messing up her hair as you tugged on it. “I-I’m close…”

Your girlfriend couldn’t help but smirk against you, listening to the way you whispered while her fingers and your wet cunt made the loudest squelches that sounded throughout the room. She twisted her finger in and out of you; pumping, and pumping, and pumping… wrapping her mouth around your clit and sucked hard.

Your body went rigid as she fingered you faster, as she sucked on you harder — the licking and sucking paired with the ridiculously lewd wet noises coming from her was driving you closer and closer to the edge. Humming a deep moan, Wanda slid in a second finger, fucking you thoroughly with her digits. You let out a strangled moan, bringing your other hand down to her head, and began slowly bucking yourself into her mouth; orgasm building in the pit of your stomach as she fucked you.

“W-Wandaa…” you whined, still trying your best to stay quiet.

Every breathy moan and whimper that came from your lips shot straight towards Wanda’s own heat, knowing very well that no one else but her could hear you like this.

She pumped her fingers in and out of you, building and building and building up closer to your orgasm until the band that held you together finally snapped, causing you to bring one hand up from Wanda’s hair to clasp it over your mouth. You muffled your loudest moan as best as you could while Wanda helped you ride your orgasm out, pulling away from your clit after giving it a gentle kiss that made your legs stutter. Wanda kept her fingers inside of you as she stood from her knees, kissing up your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your neck, then lastly meeting your lips. You moaned into her mouth, tasting yourself on her tongue.

Before you could even pull away, Wanda slowly began to pump her fingers into you once again. She used her mouth to muffle your moans along with hers as your hands clawed at her back. Wanda didn’t stop, continuing to finger you until you couldn’t take it anymore. Even after riding out your orgasm, you began to squirm underneath her, desperately trying to shut your legs.

Every part of you was so sensitive and Wanda only sought out more.

Your jaw went slack as you tried your best to keep kissing her, but you couldn’t help but keep your mouth open to let out silent moans as she fucked her fingers into you, “W-Wanda, please—I’m gonna cum again—“

Wanda smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and give me another one, baby?”

Your second orgasm hit like a freight train. Wanda used her free hand to clasp her palm over your mouth, muffling the scream that you were about to let out. Your body trembled against hers, arching your back as you continued to shake.

Wanda held you close, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth as you trembled in her arms. With whispered tenderness, Wanda's voice caressed your ear, a soft symphony of soothing words that washed over you like a balm. In the hushed tones of her whispers, she wove a tapestry of affectionate reassurances as you calmed down from your high, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck, catching your breath. Fingertips brushed tenderly against the nape of your neck, soothing the frayed edges of your being.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Wanda whispered, holding you close against her.

“You’re insufferable,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile.

“You love me.”

In the quiet intimacy of the space you shared, Wanda, the professor who held both authority and affection in her gaze, leaned in closer to you. The air between you crackled with anticipation, a delicate dance of playful tenderness. With a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Wanda's eyes locked onto yours, capturing your attention.

Wanda kissed you on the lips tenderly, humming softly against your mouth. It held the delicate balance of tenderness and playfulness, conveying a profound depth of affection. The kiss lingered, even long after she pulled away, the hint of her taste resting on your lips. She smiled down at you, hands carefully caressing your waist, keeping you close.

“Now, about those grades,” she said lightheartedly.

In return, you scoffed and slapped her shoulder playfully, rolling your eyes at the statement, “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m kidding,” Wanda smiled and pecked your lips again. “How about dinner later? After your classes, of course.”

You, with your quiet and reserved nature often concealing the depth of your emotions, met Wanda's gaze with a knowing smile. It was a smile that held a myriad of secrets and unspoken truths, a silent affirmation of the connection that had blossomed between the two of you.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, a delicate dance of vulnerability and understanding. It was a smile that spoke volumes—a gentle acknowledgment of the unspoken desires. In that knowing smile, Wanda found solace, reassured that her invitation had been met with reciprocation.

— navigation!

#bellaveux writes! #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel #elizabeth olsen x reader

[drdemonprince]

Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

[pandorasworkshop]

🐇Welcome to Wonderland- Pick a Card

Who from Alice in wonderland do you embody? And what's something good about you.

Pandorasworkshop

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Pile 1

Cards: the muses, the trout and lilly of the valley, the hare, three of cups and the sun

Character: white rabbit, door mouse, the march hare

Reading: You know how to have fun but I feel as if there is a little bit of social anxiety. May be a bit sleepy and have a pure heart. You genuinely mean well for your friends and are a go with the flow type of person. Creative talents and self expression is important to you. You are a good learner and work hard you should slow down sometimes when you feel stressed. I feel like you may be pretty like a bunny. With the sun card people view you as honest and bright. You may have a bit of a sweet tooth or have a signature drink you always drink. With the hare card I feel like you are a messenger and may warn people about things they need to know. You are smart and know how to get yourself out of a sticky situation. Rewrite any doubts about yourself.

Signs: 113, white rabbits or any rabbits for that matter, the feeling you have been forgetting something, card games, tweed fabric, academic style, vampire movies, peonies and white roses, the chess cookies that are square.

Pile 2

Cards: the storyteller, the sailor, coyote and datura, the moth and eucalyptus, the fool and six of cups

Character: Cheshire cat, the caterpillar, and Alice

Reading: You are a great storyteller and may get into a bit of mischief. You have a lot of wisdom that comes from living life and feel like people don't give you enough credit for that. You may be a little bit of a rebel but you know how to throw a party and get into fun. You may smoke or drink and if you don't you may be an avid tea drinker. You always know something before others do and have keen sixth sense and great observations skills. You may be neurodivergent or think a little differently about life than others. You have a child-like sense of humor and find things to laugh at. Joyous to be around. You are always down for something new and consistency may be a problem for you. You like to experiment in your tastes whether it's style, food and anything in between. You like to go to new places and experience life for all the nice things it has. You are curious about life and like to learn new things. Maybe school wasn't for you.

Signs: 444, blue butterfly, cats, fur coats, swords, beautiful crystals, responsibilities, feeling bored, caviar or any other types of fancy fish, silver jewelry, mushrooms.

Pile 3

Cards: the tailor, the herald, the horse and blue bells, beaver and birch, king of cups, queen of wands, ten of wands

Characters: mad hatter and queen of hearts

Reading: You are a hard worker and leader. Both of these characters lead. You may feel burnt out and need to rest. You are a person of many talents and skills. You are humble about yourself and may be a bit of a queen bee unknowingly. You have great fashion sense and are responsible. You may have struggled with depression. You are a survivor and have a lot of strength in you. Many people would say you feel like home and you are good at comforting your friends. No one knows what your next move is and you keep people on your toes. You'll always land on your feet like a cat. People feel safe around you and you have a lot of advice to share. I feel like you need to rest. You deserve a proper vacation or spa day. Whatever will make you happiest. Remember you come first.

Signs: 1111, red wine, apples, learning to accept help, those warm knitted blankets, satin, the color red, community, dahlias, the game Alice madness returns, violin and piano, spirited away.

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