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Sights Set on You

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The night is sweltering. The weather during the Blue Sea Moon hasn't let up, even hours after the sun has gone down. Claude has been staring at the ceiling for hours, most of his clothes and sheets are strewn across the floor of his room. He picks up his blanket and dabs the sweat away from his brow.

The excitement of his comrades celebrating his 18th name day makes everything repeat in his head. Raphael had teamed up with Lorenz to orchestrate a grand surprise feast in the dining hall. Lorenz, for as much animosity as he has, did a spectacular job with the trappings and delegating other members of the Golden Deer to run interceptions on Claude if he got too close. Raph put together an amazing feast. The roasted pheasant was delectable and made him think of home. Leonie pooled funds for Ignatz to paint a beautiful rendering of the golden deer that both fascinates and imposes upon him. It leans near the desk, waiting to adorn his walls. Lysithia and Marianne got him a beautiful new bow and quiver set with deer engraved upon their surfaces and golden thread stitched into the tanned leather. And, as if it couldn't get any better, Hilda and Byleth put on a performance for him. He never knew that they had ears for music, or that Teach could learn the Leicester Alliance's customary ballads in such a short time. She was almost perfect, save for one or two fumbled notes, but that just made it all the more amusing.

He closes his green eyes and revels in the memory of the way Byleth looked as she sang. The slight curl of her lips, breaking her usual icy facade. The way her blue eyes were beaming at him. The rise and fall of her chest as she took breath for her next note.

Claude's cheeks flush at that thought. His eyes snap open. Gods, what is he even doing thinking about Teach like that? She is attractive, but he just can't, not right now. There are other plans that need to happen. He needs to keep seeing Byleth as his teacher, his mentor, if he's going to make this happen. There is always later for feelings like this. That is presumptuous to think that she could feel the same, but he could always hope. Her calm demeanor would make those round table conferences more peaceful than they've been as of late. He has a strong feeling that she'd know what to do during these times when things in the Alliance feel like they're on the brink of civil unrest.

He sits up, and wipes the sweat away from his face and chest. There's no way he's going to sleep with his mind racing and the damn heat chasing away any restful feelings he could have. He pulls on a pair of boots and an untucked poet blouse, sneaking out into the night. He moves among the shadows, down to the first floor of the dorms. He waits for the curfew patrol to pass by before slipping out of the dorms and into the open.

The light of the moon illuminates the grounds. He's always enjoyed walking the grounds of the Reigen estate at night. It's when he's done his best thinking and scheming. Not tonight though. It seems that a small light still shines from between someone's curtains. Another person is awake with him. His curiosity urges him to investigate this mystery person. What other wretched soul is awake and restless on this blistering summer night?

Claude approaches the window and beholds a sight he never thought to encounter, at least not this way. Teach...Byleth is there, splayed upon her bed, sweat glistening against her skin, cotton blanket pushed aside, flushed, hand between her thighs. He shouldn't be watching this, but the look of her was too much. Perhaps he'll use this moment to tease her later. Each passing moment diminishes those thoughts though. The longer he looks, the more his mind goes blank. He feels the heat growing in the pit of his stomach. His right hand moves down on its own as he presses closer to the shadows on the wall, still keeping that slit of window in his vision.

Claude's green eyes dilate and his tongue passes over his dry lips as he watches her move. He loosens the ties on his britches and slides his hand in, feeling for the right rhythm to match hers. His mind drifts, placing himself in that room with her. Imagining the feeling of running his hands over her skin. He imagines his hands instead of her own, massaging those sizable breasts, playing with her erect nipples. His strokes become more vigorous. He presses himself tighter to the wall, straining to savor those soft moans that are barely audible through the stone. He wishes that she'd be just a bit louder, but he revels in his greed. Those moans are only between them right now. He hikes up his shirt and clenches it tightly in his mouth, muffling the groans that threaten to leave him.

His eyes widen as she shifts more blanket away and he sees a clear view of her womanhood. Her fingers dance over her labia and rub at her clit in a swift rhythm, slicking her fingers with her juices. As he strokes himself faster, his mind shifts back to his imaginary scenario. Of his face between those muscular thighs, his tongue running over her slit and dipping into her heat. What would she taste like? He imagines she tastes like wild game. He wants to grip her legs and drape them over his shoulders just to feel her weight on him.

She squeezes her thighs against her arm. His mind shifts, wanting those legs wrapped around his waist. Wanting those blue eyes fixed only on him. Sweat drips down his brow as he lets out shallow gasps. As her noises become more wet, he thinks about how amazing it'd feel to be inside of her. How he'd tease her entrance with the head of his cock. How he'd love to hear her whine and urge him to take her. He would gladly give her everything she wants, if she'd only ask him to her bed. He imagines that first thrust into her warm, moist body being like ecstasy. His shirt falls from his lips and he softly moans with her. He's at his limit when he hears something that astounds him. He's sure of it, even as muffled as it is.

Byleth is whimpering his name. Oh, Gods...His eyes refuse to leave her face as he strokes his throbbing erection faster and faster. She wants him. His composed, mysterious, perfect teacher wants him and that idea drives him over the edge. His eyes shut tight as he clenches his jaw, biting the inside of his own cheek. The corners of his vision go white as he releases onto the ground. As he slowly regains his composure, he notices that she has reached her climax as well. Her creamy juices flow from her. Her delicate fingers are covered as they rest against her inner thigh. Her breathing comes in shuddering gasps.

Claude rearranges himself and scuffs away his cum with the heel of his boot. When he looks back to that slit in the curtains, he thinks they've locked eyes. She's known, perhaps the entire time, that he was there. The look in her eyes is almost mischievous. He retreats to the shadows for now. She wins this time, but this dangerous woman is now set in his sights. His schemes won't be brushed aside, she'll just become part of them.

Chapter Text

After the previous night, Claude can't look his teacher in the face. The lecture today could be interesting, but he can't focus. It's as if Teach's words are being spoken through water. Her smiles seem coy, or perhaps more knowing. She caught him watching her, now he can't get it out of his head. Could it have been a clever trap set for him all along? But how would she know that he'd be awake, or that he'd wander by her room? No...that can't be it. But still, the gears in his head turn as he plots to turn this situation in his favor. She, the brilliant mercenary tactician, will be out maneuvered.

"Claude? Would you mind not daydreaming during my lecture?"

He breaks out of his reverie. He's surprised, but won't let himself show it, instead opting for a sly smile.

"Why would you say such a thing?" he says sweetly, almost too much.

She cocks an eyebrow at him. Eyes assess, trying to see into him. No matter how much she looks, she'll never see what he's scheming. She leans against an empty space on the desk in front of his own. She lifts her foot and rests it on an empty chair. A relaxed looking gesture to the other students, but not to Claude. This is a challenge. Her shorts slide up just the slightest bit, revealing the dip of her inner thigh. His emerald eyes dilate, but he still tries to focus his attention to Byleth's face.

"You haven't answered my question yet. Are you even paying attention?"

"Your lecture is riveting, Teach. It hurts that you'd imply that I'm not hanging on your every word." He feigns a distressed look.

"Indeed...then what is the weakness for known cursed beasts?" She crosses her arms over her chest as she waits for an answer.

His lips curl into a wry smile. "Teamwork."

She looks him over and gives him a nod, indicating that she wants him to explain.

"The only way to bring a monster to its knees is for those that know each other on a personal level to perform gambits. Those that know their team's "rhythms", so to speak, are more capable of finding and ravaging those sensitive weaknesses until they submit."

"Well, that was certainly one way of putting it." Byleth cocks her eyebrow at him. Part of the class looks flushed in the face.

Claude is completely disappointed at such a tame reaction. No matter, there's still at least another hour or so worth of dubious wordplay he can put her through. It's the least he can do for that little show she put on last night.

The lecture continues with Claude's new verbal sparring with the professor that grows more provocative with every new tit-for-tat. She, however, shows no sign of cracking from the onslaught. While she takes it all in stride, all of the girls, along with Lorenz, Ignatz, and even Sylvain, the newest playboy recruit, seem visibly uncomfortable. Dimitri passes by the door during one of the more openly crass comments and instantly his jaw is to the floor. He makes a move to come in to do something very unbecoming of a prince, but Dedue and Felix intercept and drag him away before he even crosses the threshold. She gives a grateful nod to them.

After the final tactics lecture, the students filter out of the room. Leonie makes a point of punching Claude in the side, doubling him over.

"I may not be her biggest fan, but I swear you're such an ass!" she hisses through her teeth.

He just grunts in response as Hilda, Lysithea, and Marianne all shake their heads in disapproval.

Byleth motions at the last student leaving to close the door. She needs to have a word or two with the young duke. They oblige as Claude gathers himself up and casually leans himself against one of the bookcases. Byleth lifts herself onto one of the bench desks and slowly kicks her legs. Her neutral face forms a small frown that someone could only catch if they knew her. It seems that he's in for it now.



"Would you care to explain whatever that was?"

Claude pushes off from the bookcase and slaps his hands down on either side of her hips, positioning himself between her legs and right in her face. No reaction. He pulls back a little.

"Nothing ever gets to you, does it?" he scoffs. "You get a raise out of me with that little performance of yours last night. Well, let me be clear, my dear Teach..."

He leans in close to her ear, his hot breath raises goose flesh on the back of her neck. His irritation and their closeness make that familiar heat boil in the pit of his stomach. Her hands clench, ready to fight back should the need arise.

"I intend to figure out what you're playing at. And mark my words, I'll get you back." his soft, breathy whisper makes her gasp out.

As he pulls back to assess her face, she grits her teeth and shoves him back to the bookshelf. He hits with a thud and sinks to the ground, stunned. She walks to the door before he can regain his senses.

"I'm keeping my eye on you. Try that again, Duke Von Riegan, and you'll get more than a little push."

Claude catches a passing glimpse of her face. It's beet red. She's flustered now, and flustered people get tricked far more easily. Now, just to bait her into his trap.

Over the course of the next couple of days, she's been keeping her distance. Whenever he comes around the dining hall, she slips away, even if she isn't finished eating. She does the same in the training grounds and library. She also refuses to engage him in class, but he keeps her eyes trained on him. While he is out at one of the laundry founts, he spots her reading a spell tome in the open. The thing is, his subtle glances catch her. She's watching him too. He smiles to himself as he finishes washing his bedding and hangs it out to dry. When a gust of wind blows his sheets, he sees that she's gone again. Not very subtle, Teach.

The night is blasted hot again. Most people have taken to bribing magic students into weaving low level gale spells into their beds, so they can be cool enough to fall asleep. For some reason, though, no matter what, Byleth's spells weren't sticking. The breeze would blow for a few minutes then suddenly stop. She's taken to wearing the smallest slip she owns to bed. Since Claude caught her that night, she's been vigilant at trying to keep the blinds shut and herself covered. She wouldn't want a repeat. As much as he thought she was being a tease, she wasn't. And that entire day of innuendo in the classroom served to reinforce her own shame at being caught fantasizing over a student. Even if he's actually a little older than her, it's still confusing in her head how appropriate such a relationship would be. He may be a duke, but she's still his teacher.

She finds a light mage robe that Manuella lent to her and pulls it on. She needs some air. She steps out into the night air. It still feels horrible, but it's something. Before she leaves, she cracks her window open in hopes that it'd cool her room down even a little.

She moves beneath the moonlight, letting the grass cool her feet. Her mind drifts back to that afternoon when Claude got close enough that she could smell the spice and floral cologne that still lingered on his skin. The memory of of his breath in her ear makes her squirm in her own skin. She moves down to the fish pond and sits at the fishing dock, letting her feet graze the surface of the water.

Oh, Gods, what in the world is happening? She feels her face flushing, she grasps at her cloak just to keep her hands from drifting somewhere else. She has to clear this up. She can't just keep avoiding and spying on Claude like this, it makes her feel like a creep. What are his intentions any way? It can't be that he's seeking a relationship from this? It can't happen. He's expected to marry someone with power and a name. She's a mercenary and his professor. Still, though, the thought keeps coming back. It's not all that unappealing.

Byleth's eyes catch a glint of another light besides the moon. She sits up and sees that it's from the upper levels of the dorms. She's never really felt the need to go up there before. It's where the noble students reside and they have a particular sense of place in the world. She doesn't belong there, but she is curious to see who is awake at this late hour.

She gets up and decides to return to her own room. She notices her pillow is missing. By the Goddess's tits, who in the world would take her pillow...actually. She thinks she knows exactly who. Fine, if he wants to play games, she'll play. She closes her door again and makes her way to the second level.

The door is cracked open, inviting her to intrude. He's flaunting it in her face that he wants her to barge in. Well, she's not going to bite. She approaches quietly and hears strange noises coming from inside. She looks into the crack and instantly covers her mouth with both hands. Her face is hot. Her knees feel weak.

There's Claude, in all his glory, clutching her pillow to his face and grinding his bare erection against one of his own pillows in a rhythmic motion. His muscles flex with each movement. His dark skin is slick with sweat. She has to leave, but she feels like she's under a freeze curse. Her feet won't move, she can't look away.

He gently pushes her pillow against his footboard and grinds down into it, making breathy grunts and sighs. His green eyes focus on her pillow intently.

"Teach...ngh, Byleth, how does it feel? Please, I want to hear you say it."

She bites her middle and index fingers lightly. She lets herself slide down the wall as her legs and inhibitions give way. This is too much. She knows that he wanted her to catch him, but this specticle still makes her lose her senses. She feels herself getting wet. She squeezes her thighs together and clutches her free hand. She has to resist touching herself. Someone could catch her at any time.

Claude continues to grind into his pillow at a slow, luxurious pace. He makes a show of grabbing onto it and sitting up a little more. Byleth now has a perfect view of how endowed he is. How his arms tighten as he pulls the pillow to meet his thrusts. She wishes that it was her that he was making love to. She wonders how experienced he is with women, or if he had just spyed on a few too many people making public displays of their carnal pleasures. Suddenly he changes the pillow's position, bending it over the edge of the headboard, as if taking it from behind.

"You feel amazing, Byleth...if you keep squeezing me like that I'll become undone."

A moan escapes her. Screw it, she lets her free hand find its way under her slip and to her dripping cunt. She massages her clit and teases her entrance in time with his thrusts. She rolls her hips against her fingers as she watches him thrust more insistently. Gods, he would be such a greedy lover. She revels in his flushed face and his moans. She feels for the stroke and rhythm to bring her to climax. She closes her eyes and imagines his thick cock moving inside of her. Thinking of a better world where he would take her to his marital bed, instead of just a passing night of passion. Her breathing becomes more erratic as she feels herself approaching climax. She feels his emerald eyes on her, but she doesn't care this time, he wants a show of it, she'll give him a show. She unties the cloak and hikes her slip and takes the hem in her mouth, giving him a full view of her riding on her fingers.

He darts up from his bed, quickly drags her to her feet, and into his room. He closes the door and locks it as he presses her hands over her head. Both are hot, sweaty, and far too exposed.

"Gods, dammit, Teach...doing that to me again. You'll make me think that you actually want it.

"Well, what if I do!" she hisses through her sexual frustration.

It's like a bow string just snapped in his head. He can't believe what he just heard.

"Say it again."

She swallows. "It wasn't a show. I want you and that scares me."

"What do you mean?" His eyes focus into her blue ones. She looks away, but he gently tilts her head back to him with his fingers. "Tell me, Byleth. We're past the point of keeping this secret now."

" You're the grandson of a duke and I'm just your professor-"

He presses into her, still hard. "If you think station matters to me, it doesn't." He thrusts against her thigh, causing her to gasp. "I didn't grow up noble." He thrusts again, she moans his name. "I don't give a toss about their rules." He buries his face into her neck. "And if you want me, you don't have to make some elaborate scheme to get me."

She still looks apprehensive. He smiles, genuine and true.

"I'll do as you say, either way, Tech. I won't push my station, or myself on you. Just say the wo-"

She stops him with a kiss. "You talk too much, Claude."

He smiles and hoists her over his shoulder. He tosses her onto his bed.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Please take me."

That's all he needed. He drapes her legs over his shoulders and dives down to her womanhood. He laps at her clit while his hand makes his way down to her entrance. He eases two fingers in, thrusting in time with his mouth, coating them with her creamy juices. He uses that to lube himself while he continues to lick and suck at her. Her smell is intoxicating. Her moans are even more so. He won't take her tonight. This will just be a taste. He wants this to be more than a passing fuck. As he continues to pleasure her, his mind still schemes on how to make her his. When he takes over as duke, no one will be able to tell him anything. He strokes himself faster. He revels in the burning feeling of her nails digging into his curly hair. Her thighs squeeze. Their pulses quicken as they approach climax. One day, he swears, he will win more than her lust. He'll win his place at her side. That thought pushes him onward as he feels her convulsions coming on from her orgasm. He lets himself release onto his hand and sheets. His body quakes and collapses onto her.

As he calms down, he drags himself up her body to plant a wet kiss to her lips. She winces a little, her own taste on his mouth. He smirks at her.

"Seems that you've won." she whispers.

He shakes his head. "No, not even close."

She cocks her eyebrow at him.

"I want to know all of your secrets, one by one. And, if you have your sights set on me, perhaps you'll know all of mine too."

He pulls off his sheet and cleans her off. She smiles up at him and rights herself.

"I should return to my room." She gets up, he looks surprised and a little confused. "We don't want anyone talking. Not yet. "

He helps her to the door and whispers to her, "See you in class, lover..."

She blushes, shoves him to his bed, and slips out the door quietly into the night.

He wraps the used bedsheet around his waist and takes one of his pillows into the hall. He takes careful aim and drops it down to her from one of the windows. Knowing her, she just realized she left her precious cotton filled pillow with him. He'll be keeping it for a while, just to have the smell of her during these long summer nights. She looks up just in time to catch the falling feather pillow. He winks and returns to his room. Tonight, they will both finally sleep well.