Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I know, because if I did, they sure as hell would not be treated as secondary love interests for dimwitted assholes.
Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit. Complete and utter panic, that was all Emma felt right now. She had failed; once again had she somehow managed to forget everything she had desperately tried to hammer into her head for the test. But this wasn't just some stupid test, this was the test. And with failing it, she had basically failed… everything.
Well, at least she didn't have to worry about picking a college she did not want to go to anyway anymore, and could just spend the rest of her life behind a cash register in some shitty grocery store. Math had never been her strongest suit. She wasn't exactly stupid, not at all, actually. The problem was that she just didn't give a flying fuck; about math, about school in general, about her life altogether.
"A pathetic waste of ability." Her teacher had called her that one day. Her extremely hot teacher, mind you. From the first day the brunette woman had set foot into the classroom, introducing herself as the new math teacher, all Emma could think about was ass. More specifically Miss Mills' ass, always clad in formfitting skirts or fancy slacks.
And there was also what Emma liked to call the 'evil cleavage,' in her mind at least. In all the tight shirts and semi-unbuttoned blouses the brunette teacher liked to wear, her two telling arguments were hard not to notice; they looked best when she was leaning over the table of the student in front of her, Emma had learned pretty quickly.
When the bell rang, signaling the end off class, Emma was quick to grab her bag and the test with the big, red F in the upper right corner, to get out of the room as fast as possible.
"Miss Swan!" Emma froze right on the spot. "Would you be so kind to give me a minute of your time?" Though she sighed internally, she was also thrilled to be talking to the teacher she had been crushing on ever since the first lesson.
"You failed." She said flatly, facing the board, her back to Emma. Her voice was dangerous and if she had looked at Emma while talking, she probably would have had a heart attack, dying right there in the classroom. "Yeah, well…" It was a weak attempt at defending herself.
"Would you have the decency to speak in complete sentences, please? Or does that exceed your conversation skills?" Finally she faced her blonde student. Emma's mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. She could have sworn that there was at least one more open button on Miss Mills' blouse than a minute ago.
"How do you think you can make it up to me?" Once again her jaw went slack. "W-what," she stuttered, eloquent as ever. Her mind was racing a mile a minute. This whole conversation didn't make a lick of sense. "Whole sentences, please," her teacher chastised, looking her up and down. A smirk formed on her lips.
"Go lock the door, dear." Emma just stared at her blankly. This could not actually be happening. It had to be a dream; maybe she had knocked her head on the doorframe while running from the room, and was now bleeding out on the floor, unconscious and hallucinating. "Pretty sure I wasn't speaking Spanish," the brunette cut through her student's thoughts and effectively made her jump.
Without looking at her teacher, Emma slowly headed for to the door. Her hand was already on the lock. Trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, she took a few deep breaths. For a second she thought about leaving to avoid what she figured would happen if she stayed. But she couldn't leave anymore, this had gone too far already; and truth to be told, she didn't want to leave, anyway.
Before she could even turn around again she felt a hand tug at her wrist and spin her back to face the brunette teacher now standing before her. Miss Mills took her hand away from where it was holding on to Emma's arm and lifted it up to her face instead, brushing a strand of unruly blond hair back behind her ear.
Not sure if she was actually allowed to touch her teacher, not actually daring to, she just stared at the woman in front of her. The breasts straining against her shirt, the soft olive skin glowing in the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the toned arms holding on to her. She was beautiful. But Emma had been acutely aware of that ever since she had first laid eyes on her.
"I don't bite," Miss Mills all but purred and Emma almost came on the spot. Searching for a sign of permission in those beautiful brown eyes before her, she looked at her teacher for another few seconds, before carefully lifting her hands and shakily unbuttoning the uppermost of the few buttons on her teacher's blouse.
As if a switch had been flipped, it all happened in light speed from there. The brunette latched her lips onto her student's, while helping her with opening the blouse, which Emma soon ripped from her shoulders and dropped beside them. While the blonde was busy pushing her teacher's bra out of the way to gently cup her breasts, the teacher herself trailed a hot line of kisses along the other woman's jaw, and, upon reaching it, bit down on her earlobe.
Emma groaned, enjoying the feeling of Miss Mills' firm breasts in her hands, along with the ghost of her lips now on her neck, sucking on her pulse point. "Touch me," the teacher breathed into her ear, while grabbing one of Emma's wrists to guide her downwards and into her slacks.
At the first contact with the brunette's hot, wet center, Emma took a sharp breath, and involuntarily whimpered a little. The older woman was so slick, so ready, it made Emma dizzy. "Wow," the student breathed, while her teacher tried to push her arm into her pants even further, so that Emma was able to easily slide two fingers inside her entrance.
Their lips found each other again, tongues battling for dominance. It was rushed and somewhat sloppy, but also extremely hot, and everything Emma had never even dared to dream about. Eventually, Miss Mills thrust her forward, which the student took as an invitation to actually enter the older woman. It was an overwhelming sensation, all hot, wet flesh and tight walls. So overwhelming that the blonde's mind completely blacked out at some point, letting her fingers work on pure instinct.
It wasn't as rough as Emma had imagined it to be in her numerous daydreams, but the older woman was no saint either. All the sucking on her neck would probably leave a hickey behind, some scratch marks on her back, a bruise from bumping into one of the tables; she couldn't care less, though.
The brunette didn't say a word when she put her bra back into place, and picked her blouse up from where Emma had unceremoniously dropped it onto the floor a few minutes earlier. Buttoning it halfway up, she sat back into the chair behind her desk. Emma just stood there, fully clothed, since Miss Mills had never actually touched touched her, gaping like an idiot.
"You're free to go, dear," Miss Mills said without even bothering to look up from the papers scattered across her desk. Of course, Emma thought, and wanted to seriously slap herself in the face for believing for a second that there could be an actual human being hidden underneath Miss Mills' icy demeanor.
"Oh, and Emma..." The blonde whirled around and almost had a heart attack when her teacher was standing only mere inches from her. The brown eyes starring right at her carried a little post-orgasm glaze; it was intense. An involuntary shiver ran down Emma's spine when her teacher leaned in, grazing her lips against the blonde's jaw towards her ear, and whispered "B… Plus," before she gave her student a predatory smirk and stalked back to her desk, hips swaying a little more than strictly necessary.