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You never exactly planned on getting into these kinds of situations. They kinda just...found you. So when you agreed to go on a date with some guy that you found outside the loop to get your mind off of her, it didn't come to mind that you had no idea what you were doing.
But perhaps I should explain how you got into this situation in the first place. You'd found yourself attracted to the pretty headmistress that oversaw the loop you resided in a while ago. But she was her and you were just...you. Figuring you had no chance with the woman, you snuck out of your window and out of the loop one night to try and get your mind off things. You were almost caught when you slipped and fell halfway down, but you managed to get out without any other issues.
Your first thought was to go to the pub; you hoped they wouldn't make you give your ID in order to get a drink. You were over twenty-one, of course, but when one lives in 1943 they don't find the need for a twenty first century identification very often. Still you made your way down to The Priest Hole, entering it swiftly and plopping yourself down at the bar. The nice man, Kev he said his name was you think, served you easily, and you let out a heavy breath once he was gone, drink in hand. You began to drink, not noticing the (objectively) attractive man sitting down beside you. When you finally did notice him, it was because he had rested his hand on your shoulder, offering to buy your next whiskey. You'd already had a few so you had no trouble smiling and saying yes, checking him out once he had looked away.
Again, he was objectively attractive. Not exactly up to your personal standards, but he'd have to do. Slim and fit, with a young face, maybe in his twenties, early thirties at most? He was friendly, got to know you rather easily, and by the time you finally left and stumbled back to the loop you'd agreed to meet him again in a few days.
But here comes the bad news: you'd never been on an official date, which is what this was shaping up to be. Sure, you were just going with him to get your mind off of your actual crush, but still. So as you conversed jovially with Emma a few days later, the thought of this date was lingering in the back of your mind. Eventually, the conversation lulled to a pause and your thoughts began to get the best of you. Emma, being the intelligent individual she is, must have noticed your expression change as it usually did when you were thinking too hard, and gently said "Hey y/n? What're you thinking about?" You snapped out of it with a shake of your head and refocused on the blonde, smiling gently. "Oh, um...well I might as well tell you. You know how I...um...you know the situation with Miss P right."
Emma nodded; she had figured out your feelings within weeks of you discovering them yourself. "Well the other day..." you proceeded to tell her basically everything about your situation (besides the fact that he was technically outside of the loop) until you finally got to the main issue. "But the thing is...I've never really been on a proper date, so I just don't really...know how this works. Yknow?" Emma's first suggestion was to not go. That wasn't gonna work, which you told her. "Emma, I need to get my mind off of her somehow. Or something is gonna go wrong." Emma hummed before shrugging and saying "Well, I've got no ideas. Sorry." You eventually settled for just not getting anywhere and politely excused yourself.
You didn't notice the devious look on Emma's face as you left.
--
In hindsight, you probably should have not said anything to Emma. Because now you're sat in Miss Peregrine's study-slash-office having one of the most awkward conversations you think you've ever had with the woman. Turns out Emma mentioned offhandedly that you were going on a date to her and instead of brushing it off, she had called you into the room and sat you down with an abnormally choked voice. You're doing your best to avoid eye contact, as is she, while trying to speed the conversation along, but apparently you're the only one who's trying to get out as Miss Peregrine seems dead set on making you the most awkward you've ever been.
"So...Emma mentioned that you're going on a date. Do we...know this person?" she asks, trying to be casual, and you shake your head slightly, mumbling "Uh, no. No, I met him at the pub a while ago." The ymbryne nods and hums under her breath. A pause ensues, both of you not sure what to say, until finally Miss Peregrine mutters "She also said something about you having trouble with this date of yours." You hiss quietly under your breath, becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Still, unable to lie to the headmistress, you once again nod and say "Yeah, yeah I guess so. I've never really...been on a date before. Like a real one. A-And I feel bad because I'm really only doing this to get over someone else, because I know sh--they'll never like me back so I figured if I went out with someone else then I could forget about them, yknow? But I'm worried that he'll try to kiss me and I'll have no idea what to do but it's not like I can just-just ask someone to teach me how to kiss because how do you even do that?"
Once you're started you just go at it, all of your thoughts from the previous days spilling past your lips with practically no control. Miss Peregrine sits silently, a bit shocked at all of the words coming from your mouth, but she got it, kind of. Still she let you get everything out without interrupting, casually lighting her pipe and leaning back in her chair. "So I'm just stuck in a rut hoping that I'll get it right but having literally no practice, so I'll probably mess it all up and embarrass myself. And not only that, but if he ditches me then I'll have literally no way to distract me from this--this other person that I--that I like so what's even the point?" You finally took a deep breath and shut up, sagging back in your chair and allowing your hands to drop back into your lap before bringing them to your face to rub at your temples.
Miss Peregrine, figuring you were done talking, finally speaks; "Ah." That's all she says for a long time. And that was fine, because both of you were lost in thought, though you were thinking very different things. While you were thinking about how you managed to embarrass yourself and ruin your chances even further, Alma was thinking over your words, specifically the bit about your worry of inexperience. Clearly it was something that was bothering you, if you were making such a big deal about it. And you were right that it would be a bit...awkward to just ask someone you didn't know well how to go about going on a date.
But Alma wasn't exactly a stranger.
She honestly didn't know exactly what was going through her head when she suggested it, like at all. Because one minute the room was silent and the next she was standing in front of you holding her hand out to you and telling you that she was willing to help. Almost as though possessed by some outside force, you stood, taking the woman's hand tentatively and allowing her to pull you a bit closer. And there, in her office, she began to work her magic (or so she would call it.)
--
"Typically, depending on the situation, a man will place his hands on the woman's waist, like so." Alma's hands land on your waist, a gentle pressure on your hipbones, and your breath catches in your throat. You nod shakily, trying to stop your hands from twitching so much. Alma continues; "From there you can then choose to place yours on his shoulders, or wrap your arms around his neck. It's up to you." When you don't move, she gives you an expectant look, and you stutter "O-Oh. Sorry, sorry." and before you can think too hard about it curl your arms around the woman's neck, lacing your fingers together behind it. They fit comfortably.
At this point your bodies are pressed rather close together and you can feel Alma's breath on your skin as her eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort. There's an expected nervousness, but you don't seem terribly uncomfortable. Good. Clearing her throat, the ravenette assesses her options. Finally she asks, quietly, "Are you sure you're alright with this y/n?" You nod after a moment, doing your best to steel your nerves before you go too deep. With your extra confirmation, Alma finally leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You freeze, not expecting her to do such a thing so early on...or at all. She pulls away after a second, giving you another Look, one brow arched and an unimpressed glint in her eyes.
You, unsure what to say, prepare to apologize again, but she shushes you quietly, effectively shutting you up. "No need to apologize. I didn't expect you to know what to do, I just wanted to see how you'd react. Seems this will take a bit more work than I expected." The last bit is said more to herself than you, but it makes you even more nervous than before and it takes all your self control not to pull away and flee the room. Instead you just tighten your grip on your own hand, which is still connected behind Alma's neck. In the silence, you're able to realize that the headmistress is about six inches shorter than you, even with her heels, and for some reason it eases a bit of your nervousness and makes you giggle to yourself. The near silent sound brings her attention back to you and she smiles, happily noticing some of your nervousness fade.
Yet you're still visibly anxious, so Alma decides to let you take the reigns. Quietly, as to not startle you, she mumbles "Why don't you try it? I don't expect perfection, but perhaps if you're the one to initiate it then this will go smoother," she pauses; "Since I'm a bit shorter than you," (the admittance seems to make Alma upset, not used to being shorter than someone) "you focus on my upper lip, and I focus on your lower lip. That way it's easier, so to speak." The woman seems slightly uncomfortable describing a kiss, and you smile anxiously, giggling as your nerves begin to get the best of you again, so before you can get too deep in your head you quickly push forward, connecting your lips softly again. You do as you're told, making sure to stay gentle, before pulling away a second later, too nervous about messing up to stay there for too long.
Alma seems a bit more satisfied with you, but still she says "That was barely a kiss. Try it again--please?" Still polite as ever. "You're getting there, but if you pull away too fast then he'll think that he did something wrong, or get the wrong idea, which you...don't want." Her eyes dart away from yours at the mention of your date, only returning once the topic has passed. You nod once, mumbling "Alright alright. Just--Just as long as I'm not messing this up too bad." As soon as Alma shakes her head and gives you a reassuring smile, you go back in for a third kiss, this time making it last longer. You're starting to become accustomed to the woman's lips, and in an act of startling boldness, you bring your hands forward to cup her face and tilt it slightly to the side, pressing a bit closer to the woman.
She lets out a little noise from the back of her throat, terribly similar to a pleased moan, and also moves a bit closer, stepping forward so her whole body presses against yours and tightening her grip on your hips. She, the clearly more experienced of the two of you, finally takes the lead, guiding you smoothly and easily, and soon you lose yourself in the feeling, forgetting completely why you're here in the first place. So much so that you barely even notice when Alma begins to, ever so slowly, move the two of you, until you're pressed up against her desk, though you do notice the way her hands seem to twitch against you until they finally urge you to sit on the thing. You obey without thought, still so caught up in the feeling of her lips. When Alma finally pulls away, you try to chase her lips with a distressed whine, but you stop the second her head dips down to mouth at your neck, and let out a shaky breath, hands also trembling at her neck.
Without thinking she begins to get rougher, going so far as to force her body between your legs and graze her sharp canines over your pulse point, forgetting herself for a moment because god Alma hasn't had something this good in so damn long and it's all so much and you're so delicious. At some point Alma's hand grapples at your hair, digging her fingers into it and yanking your head back with a sharp tug in order to drag her lips up your neck and nibble at your jaw. But the sudden pain that the tug causes rips a surprised and terribly loud moan from your lips, and finally Alma realizes what she's doing and jerks back as if she'd been burned, panting and nearly shaking. Your eyes flutter open, and a bright blush flares up in your cheeks the second you lock eyes with her, the woman's pupils blown and lips kiss-swollen. She removes her fingers, not returning her hand to it's previous spot on your hip and instead placing it on your shoulder. She doesn't even seem to notice the new position that she's got you in, instead stating "I'm sorry, I...I forgot myself. Apologies." In that moment, you almost say fuck it, forgo the date and just tilt Alma's head up and connect your lips again. But you know you can't, so you simply wave off her apology silently.
She doesn't speak after that for a prolonged moment, gathering her thoughts, and her breath, before she finally breathes out "Good, that was good. Wonderful, even." It makes your blush burn a bit brighter and you remove your hands from her face, replacing them at her neck. "I guess I'm just a fast learner," you whisper, eyes darting back down to look at her lips, aching to lean forward and connect them again, but you restrain yourself, allowing Alma to decide what to do first. "Depending on--on what happens after that, the other person will sometimes--sometimes kiss your neck, or jawline. As I..." She coughs awkwardly, a flush of her own drawling up her neck. "As I demonstrated." The usually composed woman seems to be at a slight loss for words, but you just nod along and don't comment on it.
She is, however, quick to say "But if I see you coming home with hickeys I will not be happy, you understand?" You huff a little laugh out and nod in agreement, promising to not let anything go too far. She demonstrates one last time, pressing her lips firmly to the junction of your neck and jaw, one of the few places her lips hadn't previously explored. It feels almost like a reluctant goodbye. That's as far as it goes and within a few minutes you feel the familiar coldness of the house creeping in when she pulls away from you to compose herself. You do the same, clearing your throat and hopping off the desk awkwardly, brushing your clothes off and straightening up. You quickly thank Alma for her...assistance, and she quietly asks "So when is this date?" You think back to the conversation you had with Matthew (he had told you his name a few minutes into meeting you), and finally say "Um, I-I think it's tonight, actually."
Alma looks surprised, arching a perfect brow in question, and you chuckle nervously, scratching the back of your neck as she stares at you for a bit longer. Finally she dismisses you, wishing you luck and making you promise to be back before the reset. You agree and quickly exit the study, hurrying up to your room before anyone can corner you and ask why you were alone with Miss Peregrine for an hour.
--
You found something nice to wear and were out the door by nine, saying goodbye to everyone before finally leaving. When you arrive at the designated meeting place, Matt is already there, waiting for you. He smiles, and you smile back, before offering his arm to you. You take it and allow him to lead you inside the restaurant, and with that your date kicks off.
Everything goes well, the food is good and Matthew is nice, but you find your thoughts wandering back to the look in Miss Peregrine's eyes before you left, the way she looked that afternoon whenever Matthew was mentioned. It was almost pained, like she was upset that you were going out with someone else. But that surely couldn't be it, right? Merely your imagination playing tricks on you. So you did your best to enjoy the rest of your date, trying to ignore the fact that once it ended, you'd have to put Miss Peregrine's training to good use and try not to fuck it up.
--
When the date finally comes to a close, you stand and are escorted by Matthew outside, like a gentleman, and he pulls you close once you're outside again. Leaning next to your ear, he murmurs "I really like you, y/n. And I think I'd like to see you again sometime soon. How's that sound, love?" The pet name makes you shiver a bit, but you nod stiffly and reply "Y-Yeah, I would like that too, Matt. Tonight was really nice." He pulls back to look in your eyes, and finally leans in and presses his lips to yours. In an instant you know something's off. His lips are rougher than hers, they move more insistently against yours. Unlike Miss Peregrine, his kiss is hard and borderline aggressive. You do your best to keep up with the rapid pace he sets, but you're finding it to be too much too fast, and finally you can't handle it so you pull back.
But he doesn't take that as a no and instead, just like Miss Peregrine told you he would, begins lining your jaw and neck with kisses of the same pressure and force. You force yourself not to squirm away from his mouth, but when it returns to yours and he shoves his tongue past your lips and into your mouth, you finally have enough and extract yourself from his hold. With the taste of him now in your mouth you give him your best, albeit feeble smile, and spit out "I'll see you around," before spinning on your heel and fleeing. Unbeknownst to you, by the time you reach the loop tears have begun to stream down your face, and as you stumble in your heels, you can't stop thinking about how disappointed Miss Peregrine must be with you.
Why was it so different? Why did his kiss feel so wrong, why was he so forceful and rough? It was terrible, but you can't erase the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, his hands in a vice grip around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin with such force you swore it could bruise. Rapidly you knock on the door, praying someone will open it before you pass out, and luckily someone does. A sharp gasp is heard from whoever the person is when they see the distressed state that you're in, and you're quickly ushered inside. Faintly, you hear the voice of Miss Peregrine instructing Emma and Enoch to do something, but you're too deep in your own head to realize what it is she's asking of them. Your body is pulled into a familiar room and you nearly collapse into the small chaise that sits against one wall, head in your hands as you begin to weep.
Warm arms embrace you and a soft voice begins to whisper quiet, soothing words in your ear, gently bringing you down from your hysteria. When you finally come back to earth, you're trembling and curled up in Miss Peregrine's arms, her hand gently running through your hair and her mouth still positioned by your face, either pressing gentle kisses to your hairline or whispering incoherent phrases. "I-I'm so so-sorry," you say, hiccupping through your tears, but Miss Peregrine shakes her head and mumbles "Don't apologize little bird. No need to apologize." She pauses to let you catch your breath before timidly asking "Can you tell me what happened?" And everything comes rushing out, how nice he was at first but how rough his kiss was, how unprepared you were for his advances, how much they scared you.
"It--he was so rough and hard. His hands were too tight and his lips were too aggressive, and I can't get the taste of him out of my mouth no matter how hard I try." You'd consumed a tall glass of water by this point, but you could still feel his tongue trying to invade your space, feel his hands grip your hips. You look up at Alma, gaze pleading and so desperate even she wouldn't be able to miss it, and whispered "Help me. Please. Get him out of my mouth." Alma swallows roughly, hoping she was interpreting your words right because if she wasn't she would never forgive herself.
When you had agreed to let her teach you that afternoon, she expected to be able to just brush it off as helping one of her children, yet again. But when she couldn't get the feeling of your lips out of her mind, couldn't stop thinking about the way your eyes looked when she stopped you from kissing her again, she knew that it had a much bigger effect on her than she had originally planned. And she knew now that if she was wrong and you didn't mean what she thought then she would never be able to get over it. Not after what the two of you had shared hours prior.
When the woman stands up, gently pushing you off of her, you panic, figuring you'd done something wrong, and quickly stand up with her. She begins walking towards the door, planning on closing it before doing anything further, but you take it as her leaving, and you rush forward, grabbing for her wrist (and missing as you stumbled on your heels, again) as you gasp "Alma!" The doors click shut, or maybe that was the lock, and the ymbryne turns to face you again. She takes in your state, still disheveled and distressed, but not as bad as when you'd first arrived. That's enough for her, and she silently dismisses your use of her first name. Slowly, she walks towards you, backing you up into the chaise once again, and without a word lowers herself onto your lap, clasping your face between her hands.
"Are you sure you want this?"
Unable to speak, all you can do is nod rapidly, eyes begging her to help you. In your mind, there's nothing else you can do to get rid of that man's touch, his mouth, except her. Alma catches her bottom lip between her teeth before finally closing the distance between you and once again connecting your lips. And though it is still ten times softer than Matt's kiss, it is somehow just as intense, and you whimper against the woman's lips. You'll do anything to get the taste of him out of you, and eagerly press back, resting your hands on her waist and dragging her up your lap a little further. Alma permits the action, noting how much better you seem at this than last time, and allows herself to indulge in the feeling of your lips against hers.
It's all-consuming and life changing, you think, the way she kisses you. Like you're the only one who matters in this moment. But it's still not enough, you can still taste him, and you tell her as much, begging her to do something. So when her lips return to yours, Alma softly drags her tongue along them, gently prompting you to part for her. You do so easily, letting the more experienced woman take the lead as her tongue begins to slowly but surely erase the feeling of your date that covers you. Meanwhile, her hands drag up and down your body, across your shoulders and along your waist, nails creating a pleasant stinging wherever they scratch, until all you can feel is Alma. And you don't want to be anywhere else.
With some difficulty, you manage to turn the two of you until Alma is laying on her back on the chaise with you on top of her, one hand resting on her collar at the small patch of exposed skin that her jacket doesn't cover and the other supporting your weight beside her head as her fingers dig into your hair. It seems you really are a fast learner as you've grown comfortable taking the lead in your kisses instead of making Alma do all the work for once. Completely blissed out, the ravenette is hardly willing to part with you for more than a moment, but she knows that eventually she will have to get up. The sound of you letting out another one of those gorgeous moans that she's come to enjoy so much hits her ears and she almost loses it, completely throwing away caution and just permitting you to continue to kiss her senseless, but she does manage to stop you finally, as your mouth trails kisses down her neck and collar, covering the visible skin in little lipstick marks that she's sure is also on her mouth.
"Darling, the children. I must put them to bed." she mutters when you come back up for air, hovering above her body once again with a pout. "Are you sure?" you say, doing your best not to whine as an amused look crosses Alma's face and she nods. With a sad sigh, you nod as well and help her up, with a little difficulty that makes the two of you giggle quietly. Her legs had hooked around your thighs when you had laid her down on the chaise, which poses some challenge, but you figure it out and soon enough the two of you are standing again. Alma ghosts her lips one last time across your neck and mumbles an apology against your skin before disappearing out of the room.
At least now your mouth tastes of Alma and not Matthew, like cinnamon and fine wine instead of cigarette smoke and whiskey. You sit there to try and figure out how you're going to break the news to him.
Or maybe you'll just ghost him. That'll work.