pt.1 Isadora Capri x Eve Fletcher | Fanfic
Characters: Isadora Capri (Wednesday) x Eve Fletcher (Mrs. Feltcher) x (Female) Reader
Synopsis: Taking a summer class, Eve is your classmate, and Isadora is your teacher.
Tags: Fluff, soft, teacher x student, student x student, older women, all characters of age.
Word count: 833
CHAPTER ONE:
Eve’s first day of class loomed over her; usually not one to be anxious about these things, she swung her purse over her shoulder. Brendan (her son) was off to college now, she had an empty nest, and sitting at home wasn’t helping. Her laptop was her biggest vice; searching websites, she found new things, igniting something in her.
Eve spent afternoons on the kitchen floor, burning cookies without a care. Thoughts of a woman’s touch followed her around like an unshakable scent. Signing up for a writing class seemed the perfect way to get out, be creative, socialize, and do something outside of work.
She wore a nice blouse, a cardigan covering her shoulder, and her hair was somewhat of a hot mess. Scanning the room, she saw students around her son’s age. “Perfect, guess I won’t make any friends,” she mumbled to herself while sitting down. Taking out her notebook, she glanced once again at the other students—an odd bunch. Then there was one student, utterly captivating, who stared at her for a moment before shying away.
Eve's heart felt warm, offering a smile, you were kinda… cute? No, that was absurd. Just as she was about to muster up the courage to maybe say hi, a woman walked in with a commanding grace.
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This experience was meant to ignite a feeling of passion inside you. Passion for writing, creating that you once held so dear. You got to class early, shortly after you noticed a brunette sitting across from you. Entranced almost as if she put a spell on you, but you wouldn’t complain. She looked older, almost recognizable… Wait, she was your bully's mom back in high school? Brendan spent his time making fun of you, calling you odd, and you hated him for it. But maybe you didn’t hate her?
The woman makes eye contact with you, and you avert your eyes quickly after. That’s when the teacher enters, this woman, red curls, big smile, beautiful dress.
“Hello all, I’m Miss. Capri. However, you may just call me Isadora. I’m your teacher for this class. I’m sure we’ll all get along quite well.” She scans the room, almost looking at you for a second longer than the others, but that couldn’t be. Never mind that.
A rush of emotions fluttered through you. She was hot. You lose yourself in watching her motions as she explains the lecture, walking back and forth before sitting against her desk. She had this nervous energy that dissipated when she taught, the passion for the subject almost guiding her with a soft touch.
Isadora had said to write anything, brainstorm, or make something of your own. That’s when it happens again, the brunette's eyes look up at you, before looking away. She takes her cardigan off in the most tantalizing way a woman could. Brushing her hand through her hair. You could have sworn she was doing it on purpose.
Jotting down whatever you could before the exercise was over, a mechanical pencil breaking every few words. “Partner up and share, let the words guide you, sharing is part of creating, part of the process,” Isadora says.
The woman walks over to you, “Hello, I’m Eve.” She offers her hand to shake, “Do you want to be partners, or do you already…” her voice trailed off as if she was scared of the answer.
“No, no, no, I don’t.” You scramble to put a sentence together when you introduce yourself. She sits at the desk next to you as you share what you wrote. Hers reads like a story, while yours reads like a poem.
“So, uhh… did you know my son? I think he went to school with you. I know… I’m a little too old to be here,” Eve says.
“Yeah, I did. Taking a break before college. Brendon was kind of a jerk to me.” You admit, a furrow in her eyes, a sympathy seeps through her words, “I’m sorry, dear, that kid can be a handful. I hope he didn’t make your life too miserable.” You reassure her, and the conversation goes on.
“Looking at the teacher?” She whispers, a smirk dancing on her lips, already noticing your flushed response. “Shush! She’ll hear you!” Eve took that as confirmation; she liked that, the fact that she could tease you without even knowing you.
When you disperse back to your seats, it’s almost as if Eve is performing for you; she looks hot, fingers running through her tangled hair. You, however, are still unclear whether she was just feeling herself or actively trying to flirt with someone of her son’s age.
Class comes to an end, packing your bag, Eve follows you out, cardigan in hand, towards the parking lot. “Hey, this might sound weird. But I loved your writing. Would you like to exchange numbers…you know, just in case one of us misses a class?” She smiles at you in a way where all you can do is comply.
More chapters to come <3
