Romi Vane (vanegirl) wrote in vrrpg, @ 2017-04-12 18:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, char: blaise zabini, char: romilda vane, location: network, time: 2009 04 |
Network: Blaise's spirits still might need some lifting...
Who: Romilda & Blaise
When: 4/12/09; evening
What: Romi wrote something for Blaise's spirits...
Warnings: Adult
Public/Private: Private
Blaise,
I've been writing little scenes lately - things that will never make it into the show - and I thought you might like to see this one. I hope it makes you smile. Callie mentioned your... situation... today and I thought it never hurts to have some lovely words to daydream about. Anderson Ollivander is a fun character to write, old school pureblood poncy bastard who gets himself into all sorts of interesting liaisons...
xoxo,
Romi
The Wizard Anderson Ollivander sat in his tiny, cluttered office and flipped through the pages of a paper he was supposed to be reviewing for one of his summer students. Merlin, he hated summer students - they were either the complete dolts or the ones willing to do anything to get ahead. Of course, it was the latter that really got to him... Why hadn't he just gone into the family business, again? But then he smiled as he thought of some of the stunts he'd seen pulled in the last two years. He'd had students try to bribe him, trick him, and even get him fired. They were the rich kids, the cool kids. Anderson couldn't be bothered less - he allowed his dormant Slytherin to run rampant with the little children - teen-aged and wide-eyed, they thought they ruled the world, oh, if only they knew. Of course, it wasn't just their youth and their arrogance that got him. Anderson was a pureblood wizard after all, a member of the Sacred 28, and there was only so much one could do with Muggles. He was fascinated by their ability to get on without magic, and had gotten rather good at it himself since coming to teach poetry at the Muggle university, but wasn't it just dull? Of course, beyond being Muggles, there was the task of having to read their often plagiarized and even more often badly written papers. The one he read now was neither, thankfully, though its author had become - in only the two weeks that the class had been meeting - his worst offender yet. The Muggle girl - Becka - had tried more than once to get him alone with her innuendo and obvious flirting. Anderson rolled his eyes at the thought and as if he had summoned her with the wand hidden in his desk, she appeared at his doorway wearing something that Anderson would hardly call a dress at all - more like a nightie that had been pulled tight at the waist.
She removed a lolly from her mouth - her lips painted perfectly in a saturated red that Anderson couldn't help but watch - and asked, "Professor?"
He smiled, going into teacher-student autopilot, "Becka, how are you? And how many times have I told you and your classmates to call me Anderson?"
"You tell me that almost daily in class, but it just seems strange..." She stuck the red lolly (cherry flavored? he wondered) back in her mouth and looked around his office as if she had never seen it before and it was quite a strange little cube. He had the shelves lined with old books from his family manor, books written in runes and about topics such as herbology and the history of magick.
He saw her eyes linger on his books and rather than wait for her to ask - as everyone did - he said, "Old folklore is a hobby of mine, I've been studying and collecting it since I was a child. Some of these books go back to the 18th century." Of course, he didn't mention that some of them had been in his family for roughly 1,500 years. "What can I do for you, Becka?" His tone was one of the tired professor, too much to do during the day and students banging down his door - understanding, willing to help, but tired nonetheless.
With a slight popping noise she removed the lolly again and shrugged her shoulders, "I was bored and thought maybe you'd covered our papers all ready?" She smiled at him, sticking out her tongue the slightest bit when she put the candy back in her mouth, her lips rounding it perfectly - they were full-looking and he could tell that they were sticky.
He smiled, he'd heard of students like her, of course somehow he doubted the older professors had ever dealt with someone like Becka. Her body - complete with tiny waist that any man would love to wrap his arms around, legs that you could feel wrapped around you even when you didn't bother to look down at them, and breasts that you could just tell would fit perfectly in your cupped hand - her long brown curls and lips that'd make a man groan to watch them speak, let alone do anything else she might want to use them for. He figured, though he wouldn't ever say so, that if the older professors had been offered any of flirtation she'd offered Anderson, they would have given a girl like her the keys to the school and probably a Nimbus 2001 to go with it, not to even talk about grades.
"Becka, I've just gotten them yesterday afternoon. I'm working on them now, and I'm sure that yours will be perfect as is all your other work." She still stood in the door and he still sat at his crowded and overflowing desk, glad for the opportunity to stay exactly where he was. Of course, the dynamic didn't steady. She came further into the office, shutting the door behind her with a deafening click and then she had the courage to even deadbolt the thing. Her ass looked pert and tight in the skirt when she was turned around and he couldn't help but sneak a look - he was a good man, a wizard with the best of intentions always, but a man first and it had been too long since a tight little thing had so willingly shown off her ass to him. When she turned back around he'd turned his chair to be facing his desk again and looked back over his shoulder to see what it was that she was after. She came toward him, still sucking - loudly, obviously - on her cherry lolly (by now he was convinced it had to be cherry) and she leaned back on his desk, her ass hitting a stack of papers that spilled over to the floor from her jostling.
"Was there anything else you needed?" He plastered a helpful, clueless look on his face and looked up at her, now at his side and so close he could stand, turn her around, fuck that tight little ass without hardly even having to undress her, and send her on her way without another a word. She could even keep her lolly. The thought made Anderson close his eyes quickly, a blink really, and he'd hoped she hadn't caught it. The last thing he needed was some 21-year-old muggle girl realizing that the professor she wanted to sleep with for A's was dreaming of all the things he could do with her for more than grades.
She shrugged again, apparently content to stand there so close he could practically feel the warmth of her skin - the very exposed skin of her cream colored thigh - where he was sitting. She took the lolly out again and played with it a bit, looking around the room some more, "Professor? Why don't you wear a wedding band? All the others do, even the single ones."
The question took him off guard and he sighed, looking at the door in a sort of plea, "I don't believe that's part of our curriculum, Becka. Now please, I do have to get back to these papers, if you ever want yours graded."
"So you haven't done mine yet." Not a question, her faux interest in the room lost and her gaze suddenly sharper, more focused on why she was really here. She was brilliant, it's true, but not much of an actress.
"No, I was just getting to it when you got here." Anderson said matter-of-factly, he was getting tired of her game. It had been two weeks like this, wearing the tiniest skirts in class and dropping things next to her desk just as he passed, hoping he'd pick them and notice her legs, hovering outside the classroom after to get in another word and a quick giggle about most of the girls having crushes on him. He found it tiring. He didn't need another woman to tire him out. The idea brought to mind the exhaustion of... No, he'd stop those thoughts right there.
"Were you?" She asked, the lolly tossed in the trash as she did - Anderson tried not to but his gaze followed it like one might mourn the last piece of cake being carried off by another party-goer. Just because he couldn't touch, didn't mean he couldn't watch, and there was something about her sucking on that damned stick of candy that had him feeling as if the room had gotten very warm since she'd shut the door.
"Professor?" She asked again, "I have a slight confession to make." She let her hair fall down past her face so all he could see where her red lips through the curtain of curls, "I didn't quite just come here about my paper." And she was acting again - better this time, true, but still acting nonetheless. "I thought I might catch you alone." Anderson felt his mouth dry - how do other men do this? He tried to think of anything at all that didn't involve very naked bodies, and nothing came. "I was hoping I might have a chat with you."
She pushed herself up from her desk, arching her back as she did and while he averted his eyes slightly he felt a heat spread up his neck at the thought of her back arched under his touch. She bent down over his couch - he wasn't looking though, he swears - and moved some papers and books onto the floor before sitting - the office was very small, the sofa nothing more than tiny love seat crammed in next to his desk - and she took his chair and turned it around so that he was facing her. They were almost eye to eye, he was taller for sure and higher up in his chair, too, but her legs were spread just a bit and he could imagine the panties she might have on, mere inches from his fingers.
"A chat? About what? Your papers have all been in line." He knew it wasn't about her papers and she leaned forward and put a hand on his chest, leaning in closer to him, he could smell the cherry candy on her breath and feel its warmth.
"I'm fascinated by your subject, of course, but I wanted to speak with you about a different one, actually. Evolutionary Psychology, have you ever studied it?" She leaned back again, the warmth from where her hand had lay turning to a burn. His breathing was controlled with every inch of him and the way that he sat, sadly enough for him, made it very certain that he was not thinking about this academic subject or any other. Besides maybe anatomy.
"Evolutionary Psychology? 'Fraid not, been a lit student most of my life, not much room for the sciences."
"Oh, mmm." She moaned low in reply, nodding her head slowly. "See, it's this topic coming out of America, they're studying all these interesting little things about the sexual habits of people - people like you and me, even - and finding some brilliant stuff about behavior." She moved forward on the couch, her barely-there dress riding even further up her thigh as she did so. "Stuff like how a man will react to touch, or to certain visuals, or to certain behaviors." She moved further, her legs moving in to thread with his, one of her knees between his legs and moving up even more - her dress was covering hardly any of her thighs at all now, and he could see the smallest sliver of red fabric. Red panties, of course.
"Sounds fascinating, truly." Adrian tried to move his chair back but somehow she'd managed to position him perfectly between herself and the desk and now he was pinned unless he stood and knocked her back. She stood instead and leaned into him even more, standing straddling one of his legs and the dress now falling back to where it started.
Looking down at him she cocked her head curiously, "Professor, do you want me?" The question surprised him and before he had a chance to think with his full motor functions he was nodding.
She leaned down, her hands on his shoulders, "Good," she said, "Because I won't always be your student, and when I'm not I plan to come back here and use you like that damned cherry lolly. Does that sound like something you could come out of your books for?" She breathed up his neck and nipped his ear, hard, before standing and leaving the room without another word or a glance behind.
She shut the door behind her and he had to take a moment to catch his breath. Without bothering with the normal precautions, he closed his eyes, apparated home, and without hesitation went straight for a long, hot shower. He had some serious daydreaming to do.