a/n: Hi hello I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything. I have several, several huge projects under works and about 40 hours of work a week and my writing has been massively broken, hence more porn, but hopefully things will go back to a relatively regular posting schedule soon! Thank you to everyone who continues to read, review, favorite and alert things every day!

Being a new teacher was stressful, exhausting and most of all, depressing.

This wasn't how her life was supposed to turn out, she knew. There was supposed to be Broadway and bright lights and shining stars; nights out on the town in Manhattan and Tony Awards littering her shelves. Instead she had found herself back in Ohio, teaching English and being hired as the first faculty advisor for the Warbler's a cappella choir in over twenty years after a specific incident involving rock salt in a slushie to an opposing team-her old team, ironically, back when she was 17 and a wide eyed dreamer.

But dreams come crashing down at the drop of a hat, she realized when she was 19, a divorcee and too depressed to drag herself to her classes with the loss of the first boy she ever really loved. Gone, for a blonde in a shorter skirt, for his own inability to decide what he wanted from his life. He took himself, her love and her dreams with him, leaving Rachel to pack up back to Ohio, a place she never wanted in the first place, to find her studying teaching instead of musical theater.

To find herself teaching a group of bratty, snotty, over hormonal teenagers stuck in a school with no sexual relief, who leered after her day in and day out.

She's the youngest teacher Dalton had ever hired, the only one under the age of 28, and she understands, to a point. She even manages to ignore it, most of the time, the way 20 pairs of eyes stare at her legs as she walks around the room, passing out tests and papers, and most at least have the decency to act ashamed if she catches their eyes when they're objectifying her.

Except, of course, for Sebastian Smythe. But she had learned within her first two days of teaching that Sebastian hits on everything, watching as he leaned over to whisper something in one of the other students ears as his fingers pressed against the poor boys thighs, his eyes widening before he raised his hand and asked to use the bathroom. So when he came up to her after class, his fingers lingering on her wrist and his gaze almost too intense for a 17 year old boy, she thought nothing of it and told him to get to his next class before he was late.

That didn't stop his flirtation.

It was an ego boost, at the very least, to feel wanted on a physical level after feeling rejected for so long. She had had her share of flings, of course, had tried to have relationships since Finn had left her, but nothing ever stuck except the sting of loneliness and the feeling that she wasn't good enough for anyone, for anything more than what she was subjecting herself too.

Her feelings of discontent, of pain and longing for more-they were all brought on by herself, she knew, but that didn't make them any easier to work around.

-:-

"You have a new student," was the only preface she received before meeting him, dark hair and eyes and a scowl across his features as he was thrust in front of her, rolling his eyes.

She glanced down at the file the Headmaster had handed her before disappearing, noting his name before glancing up at the boy who looked completely uncomfortable in the uniform blazer, tugging at the sleeves of it as he looked around the grand hall. "Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes," he replied tersely, Rachel chewing on her lip as his eyes-hazel and light and carrying some sort of heaviness behind them, something she wasn't sure she was capable of turning around-met her own.

"I'm Ms. Berry. I teach history for the senior class as well as direct the Warblers," she introduced, reaching out a hand to shake and he took it after a moment, Rachel shaking off the jolt she felt and claiming it as static electricity in her mind. "Welcome to Dalton."

He didn't say anything in response, simply slid his hands into his pockets and Rachel hummed quietly before heading through the main doors that led into the corridors towards classrooms, Blaine following quietly behind her as she reviewed his file. Transfer students that came in through the middle of the year were supposed to have an advisor of sorts, someone to walk them through the basics. Rachel had questioned why there weren't just guidance counselors, when she was first hired and the process was explained to her, trying to hide the roll of her eyes as they informed her that they wanted the students to feel more connected to the staff, to the school, that most were already seeing therapists and guidance counselors were too much alike.

"We have a pretty strict set of rules around here," she carried on as they walked through the halls, Blaine not seeming to pay any attention to her, though she was used to that from her classes. "There's obviously the uniform, the anti-bullying policies as well as normal rules and guidelines that I'm sure you're accustomed to from previous schools. You've been given your schedule from the Headmaster, and it says here in your file that you're interested in theater-are you looking into joining the Warblers?"

"I don't know," Blaine answered, shrugging his shoulders and continuing to fiddle with the buttons on his blazer before Rachel reached out and grasped his wrist to stop him, not thinking about the potential consequences of her actions as his eyebrow raised and he met her glance.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, turning a bright fuchsia, "that was probably inappropriate, I'm still relatively new myself, just graduated college in the spring, teaching wasn't-"

She shook her head, a forced laugh puffed out as she led him further down to her office. "Regardless, the point is, I'm almost in the same boat you are. I'm still trying to figure out Dalton myself," she offered, opening the door to her office and he slipped in past her, looking around at the small but still somehow elegant room. "So I guess we can navigate it here together."

He continued to not say anything, fingers trailing over the edge of the chair in front of her desk while he examined her admittedly bare walls, looking at book titles and reading her diploma from a school far less prestigious than what she had originally hoped for. She felt almost nervous, scrutinized, and she sat down behind her desk to finish reading about whatever they could fit into a manila folder to stop herself from staring at him.

Because while she knew that the boys in school often found her attractive, she had never felt the sentiment returned.

But Blaine-Blaine Anderson, 17 and a senior transferring from a school about a half hour away due to an incident with bullying-he was exactly the type of boy Rachel had lost herself to after Finn left. Dark hair, eyes that seemed to draw her in continuously, a slim but firm build that Rachel wanted to run her hands over-

"So," he said, snapping her to attention and out of the depths of her mind, her only hope that her smile wasn't nearly as panicked as she felt it was. His own smirk in return let her know that she was failing. "They said that you're my…advisor. That I'm supposed to come see you twice a week to…talk, and see how Dalton is working for me."

"Exactly," she supplied, waving her hand in the direction of the chair he was leaning against. "If you'll just have a seat, we can draw up a schedule that coordinates both of our schedules to meet up."

He did so almost reluctantly, keeping his eyes locked on hers while they came up with a schedule for them to meet, Rachel fighting the urge to squirm under his unwavering gaze. It reminded her vaguely of Sebastian, who seemed to pinpoint her almost daily, even as his fingers trailed up another boys thighs or his mouth whispered in some innocent boys ear. He did it for the fun of getting a rise out of someone, for the attention-Rachel knew, because she'd watched people around her do it for years. She'd even been known to do it every once in awhile, which was why Sebastian was never a question, why he was never anything more than a slight annoyance.

Blaine was different.

She learned that quickly enough, after a couple weeks of having him in her class and meeting up with him twice a week to discuss his transition, of watching him sing and move in with the Warblers. How whenever she was around, he kept his eyes on her at all times, a smirk toying at his lips occasionally but he never flushed pink, never backed down. It sent fire down Rachel's veins, she found herself wondering about the possibilities, how things could develop, what she could let happen. She'd found herself quietly gasping his name on more than one occasion, her fingers between her legs as she pictured Blaine's instead, his hands or his tongue, the perfect mouth that sang harmonies to back up Sebastian and his gang with three afternoons a week.

But she couldn't act on it.

She wouldn't.

She was young and naive by any teachers standards, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew how badly these things happened; even when consensual, it always leaked, lives were ruined, and Rachel's life had been ruined more than enough to throw what little she could throw together for an orgasm by a young boy.

That didn't seem to stop his leering, however, or his touches that started after a few weeks. At first she thought maybe she had just imagined it, the brush of his fingers against her wrist as he thanked her for her time one afternoon, the sensation tingling and terrifying all at once before she snapped into herself and realized what she was thinking about. But then it happened increasingly often, and the only way she was able to brush it aside was who he had chosen to become friends with.

Because while Blaine's advances picked up, and rapidly so-his eyes constantly on her at all times, lingering over her chest, her legs, her ass; his fingers brushing arms and thighs as she passed by him in the hallways, Sebastian's stopped entirely. It would have been disconcerting if it didn't establish what Rachel had come to the conclusion of already-

Blaine wanted her, and he wasn't going to stop until he won.

It was what he did, she realized as he raised through the ranks of Warblers who had been there for years, solidifying himself as lead soloist with a few charming statements in the right place. He was smooth, competitive, and driven and it drove Rachel crazy that he was her student, that she couldn't yank on the tie around his neck and pull him into one of the study rooms of the library and make him her own. Because he was exactly what she was looking for to shake up her life, to change her and help her go back to who she was when it was her who was 17; and his natural charisma and dashing good looks only seemed to make her want him more.

She had to stop him, before she snapped and lost control of herself, something she came closer and closer to doing every time he ran his tongue over his lips while staring in her direction, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of his desk as she taught about wars long past, trying to quell the one raging inside of her.

Which was her excuse she was using, at least, when he came into her office a month and a half after his transfer to Dalton, smiling almost too innocently as if he knew he had finally pressed her to her breaking point, that she had to lay down the law and he was going to act as if he hadn't been doing anything, but it had to be said.

She needed to take control of the situation before it got out of hand.

"As you know," she started calmly, averting her eyes from his own as she folded her hands across her desk, "normally we'd go about small talk, discuss any changes you may still need here at Dalton or seeing if you're ready to speak to someone about the problems that caused you to arrive here in the first place." She took a deep breath, running her thumb over the back of her wrist, steadying herself internally before meeting his gaze. "Today I think we need to have a discussion about something a little more important."

"What could be more important than my safety and wellbeing here at Dalton?" he asked, an eyebrow quirked and the slightest lilt to his voice as if he was amocking her, something she feared he might have been doing from spending so much time around Sebastian.

"You know exactly what I'm referring to," she said quietly, narrowing her eyes, "and you also know that it needs to stop. Immediately."

Blaine opened his mouth to deny it, but Rachel stopped him in his tracks before he could. "The looks, the touches-they're subtle, Blaine, but I'm not blind. I know what you're trying to do, and it can't-I can't. You need to stop it."

"I'm not doing anything," he responded, and Rachel laughed at the sheer audacity of the response, because she knew that he would say that, knew he'd deny it, but she wasn't making it up in her mind. She was lonely, sure, but she wasn't imagining everything.

"Really," she countered, standing up abruptly as something inside of her snapped, refusing to take his word at face value as she trailed her fingers across the hardwood of her desk, gliding around it only to stop right in front of him, sliding herself carefully on top of the desk and noting exactly when his eyes fell from her face to her legs if only for a second. "So, if I were to, say, lean forward just a tad," she said, her voice low as she did exactly as she narrated, a hand resting on the back of his chair and her shirt falling just enough to show him a small amount of cleavage, something she tried her hardest to keep hidden to avoid leering, her skirt riding higher on her thighs as she did so, "you'd be 100% focused on whatever it is I'm telling you?"

To his credit, his eyes stayed on her face, not once glancing downward as she tested him, and she almost panicked. Maybe she had been wrong, maybe she would get fired for practically sexually harassing a student, but there was a darker burn in his hazel eyes than she was used to, his hands curling into fists at his sides before he unclenched them, appearing completely composed once more.

"Of course I would," he replied, relaxing backwards in his chair as if this was a typical meeting between the two of them. "You're my teacher, Ms. Berry. I would never dream of trying to cross any lines between our relationship."

She hummed, pursing her lips a little as she sat up straight once more, focusing on the wall next to her. This was what she had wanted, of course, what she had been trying to tell him in the first place-she was his teacher and nothing could transpire despite how much she may have wanted it, and was about to push herself off her desk and return to business as usual and move past the moment until his hand landed on her bare knee, his smile and eyes dark with something less innocent. "Though, it is your job to help me adjust to Dalton, isn't it?"

A squeak of surprise left her mouth, even as her legs uncrossed to let his fingers trail higher on her skin, her instincts yelling at her to let him in, to let him fix whatever was broken inside of her, even as her mouth argued the sentiment. "Yes, it is, because I'm your teacher, Blaine."

He stood up, seeming to grow bolder by her denial, until his hand wrapped around her upper thigh, pulling her lightly towards the edge of her desk as his mouth found her ear, nipping at it before placing the most chaste kiss against the skin underneath it. "You're also my advisor, so maybe you can give me some advice," he whispered, and she tried not to react to the way his breath was hot against the crook of her neck as his fingers swept away her straight hair, exposing more of her skin to his mouth. "What should I do about my teacher, Ms. Berry, the one every guy in this school is busy fisting himself over, who seems to return my attraction to her? Because she's young, so young," he murmured, teeth dragging down the column of her throat and she couldn't stop the small sigh that fell from between her lips, how her tongue tried to wet her dry lips, her eyes focused on the ceiling above them as she tried desperately not to react to him in any way, "and it wouldn't be breaking that many rules. Especially if no one found out."

She wanted to argue that someone would find out, someone always found out and careers were ruined and that's how she'd end up in jail, and how badly she'd do in jail, but he was kissing her, seeming not to take 'no' for an answer, and it was so much easier to give in and say 'yes' anyways. To kiss him back, just as hungrily, letting his hand shift from her thigh to her hair once he was sure she wasn't moving away from him, pulling her face closer to his own as she angled her head to the side, trying to inhale his tongue as it caressed her own, running over the roof of her mouth and the back of her teeth as if he would permanently etch the taste of her mouth in his own forever.

"We can't," she tried to protest when his lips finally left her own, but he only chuckled before lifting himself on the desk with her, Rachel grateful for the cleanliness of her office for once and the vast emptiness of her desk as he laid her on top of it, teeth catching at the skin on her neck as she let her fingers slip under the blazer she still saw him fidgeting with all the time, unbuttoning it even as she tried to tell him that she couldn't. "Blaine, this has to stop."

He raised an eyebrow, watching her fingers unhook the last button on his blazer as it fell open, and while he still had on a white button up on underneath of it, it was still more of him than she'd been allowed, and she could see now for certain the way his hips curved slightly inwards, how small his waist was and Rachel couldn't help the small whine that escaped her as she pictured wrapping her legs around it, pulling him deeper inside of her, and he seemed to understand that she was giving in when she looked up at him, his eyes almost black as he grinned at her.

"Sure you want to stop?" he asked, fingers dipping beneath the hem of her skirt and pushing it higher above her waist, exposing the crimson lace covering her while his thumb pressed right against her clit, her head thrown back against the desk as she let out a small moan.

"No," she finally whispered, shaking her head and tearing at the buckle of his belt, "no stopping."

All qualms about how it was wrong, illegal, how much trouble she'd be in if they found out she was sleeping with a student seemed to disappear along with his fingers dragging down her slit through the fabric of her panties, her throat bared as she chewed on her lip to keep herself quiet. She didn't know how he could have possibly made her like this, all she knew was that she didn't want him to stop either. And while she wasn't quite at the level of begging, yet, her hips rolled forward for more friction, something he supplied her with quickly.

Her underwear was tugged down her thighs, his tongue and teeth scratching against them before his fingers crawled inside of her, pushing two in at once and causing her fingers to wind in his loosely gelled hair, her back arching off the wooden desk as his lips moved across her hips, pulling at her shirt and leaving open mouthed kisses along the fabric, causing her skin to squirm underneath of it and leaving her wanting more.

She didn't even get a chance to plead for what she wanted before he was shimmying the slacks off his hips, pushing them away and her hand immediately reached to hook fingers in his boxer briefs, pushing them down and her mouth almost watered at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking precum for her, his breath catching in his throat as her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, moving in small strokes just to feel the weight of him, heavy and warm, while he parted her thighs wider for himself.

There was no questioning if they really wanted this, no 'are you sure' or 'go slow', just her hand directing him to where she needed him most and the simple slam of his hips inside of her, until he was balls deep inside of her and she was sure her body wanted to scream in protest at how fast the intrusion had been, her walls squeezing tightly to force him out or keep him in, Rachel unsure of which she wanted. Until he did start to pull out, of course, and her hips followed, trying to latch onto him as much as she could, her hands unable to keep from wandering underneath his shirt to trace the skin that lay hidden away from her.

Her breath came in small pants, a moan pushed out of her whenever he hit that delicious spot that had laid quietly for so long inside of her, and his hands would move from her hips, to groping at her breast while his tongue traced the cleavage he exposed teeth nipping lightly at the skin before her hands dug into his skin, nails dragging up his back and taking his shirt with them. He grabbed her arm with one hand, kissing her wrist almost tenderly while his hips slammed into her once more, her eyes closing as she choked back a groan, before her hands were somehow taken in one of his and pinned above her head. Rachel didn't question it, she was beyond noticing anything beyond the curl of her toes and how her thighs were shaking, clinging tighter around him as her knees locked his hips inside of her, her fingers wrapping into fists above her head as her back arched.

Because it was good, so good and she didn't want to deny herself this again, not when Blaine had her nipple in his mouth and was rolling it between his teeth and his tongue, when his cock was pounding into her with fierce abandon, pushing her over the edge without so much as a warning while he toppled with her, her name panted against her breast in short gasps.

"You know this can't-"

"Ms. Berry," Blaine interrupted with a smirk, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck, "no offense, but I don't think you can honestly say you don't want it to happen again."

For the first time in as long as Rachel could remember, she didn't bother to correct her student.