Chapter Text
Professor Crewel glanced at the clock, the minutes ticking down until the end of his office hours. He doubted anyone else would show up so late, as most students in need of tutoring were desperate enough to come in early on. He idly sipped his tea, sighing as he dispassionately ruffled through a stack of papers to grade.
Someone pounded on the door.
Crewel raised his eyebrows. “Come in.”
Riddle— the last person Crewel expected to make such a fuss— slipped inside, face pale, hands trembling. “Professor.”
“Rosehearts.” Crewel set his teacup down, frowning. “Are you ill?”
Riddle closed the door behind him, breathing deeply. He made eye contact with Crewel but looked away, wincing. “I… suppose you could say that. I have a complicated favor to ask.”
Crewel rose, approaching Riddle cautiously. Riddle stepped back, uncharacteristically wide-eyed, fright flashing in his eyes. “Woah, easy,” soothed Crewel. He slid into his voice usually reserved for calming down a scared dog, but Riddle didn’t seem to care. “What’s wrong?”
Riddle bit his lip.
“I assume you could tell by now.”
Crewel narrowed his eyes. He mentally rifled through typical conditions his students might rush to him for, and on an inhale—
Sweet, fresh, and
“Omega.”
Riddle nodded.
Crewel relaxed, guiding Riddle to sit down in the chair across from his desk. He let out a short laugh, clapping Riddle on the shoulder. “You had me going there, pup. It’s nothing to worry about. I have pamphlets, care kits, don’t ask me for suppressants yet because you have to wait for a first heat, but after that…”
Riddle curled up with his knees to his chest, looking tiny and scared. “I’m well aware of all of that, professor. My situation is worse.”
It wasn’t uncommon for presenting to take a serious toll on students. However, there wasn’t anything wrong with being an omega. A challenge to get used to for sure, but Riddle shouldn’t expect any significant change to his lifestyle. The boy ought to know it too, with his mastery of every rule and law written. Crewel rubbed his temples. “I’m rather taken aback, Rosehearts. There’s nothing about your secondary gender that affects your position here or magic. I’m sorry if you made very specific plans to take another omega as your partner, but even then—”
“It affects everything!” Riddle blurted out. He sniffled. “If my mother finds out…” He dragged his sleeve across his face.
Crewel leaned against the front of his desk, observing Riddle. Riddle, who was normally so fiery and composed, passionate and dauntless. Now, he seemed to be a flickering ember on the verge of dying out. “You’re not the first crashout I’ve seen about presenting, though I understand that this late in your teens, you expected to be a beta. What’s your main concern?”
Riddle raised his head, meeting Crewel’s gaze with teary eyes. “She could pull me out of school.”
What century was this?
“I see little reason to worry about such a thing,” assured Crewel.
Riddle still shook his head.
“I was always going to have an arranged marriage. I’m sure she’ll be furious when she finds out I’ve presented as an omega after all of her and father’s efforts. Once she knows, I’ll be traded to whoever will give them the greatest social benefit.”
Crewel said his prior thought out loud. “What century is this?”
“It isn’t a theoretical! She’s said as such!” insisted Riddle. He took a shaky breath. “Do you know why I overblotted, professor? She’s the type who had my life scheduled down to the minute and forbade me from going outside after I was caught, and that was when we thought I’d be a beta or an alpha.” Crewel stared in shock, though Riddle seemed to interpret it as disbelief. “Just ask Trey, he could confirm it. She also measured out my meals down to the gram. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful—” it twisted Crewel’s stomach to hear Riddle force himself to feel appreciation for such a harsh life, “...but I know if I go back, my life isn’t my own anymore.”
Crewel frowned, drumming his fingertips against the desk. If Riddle was telling the truth, which he had every inclination to trust, he was in serious trouble. His tone was soft and serious, reserved for students going through a true crisis. “What do you need me to do?”
Riddle took a deep breath.
“Be my alpha, so your claim outweighs hers.”
Crewel choked on air. “Pardon?”
“I can’t be emancipated due to my status as an unclaimed omega.” Riddle rattled off his reasons with such determination that Crewel was certain they’d been rehearsed beforehand. “If I want someone to have a true claim to me, they have to be both an alpha and adult, which you are. It’s an archaic law, but I can’t risk there being any chance that she could force me to go back home, so I’ll need to be taken at least once by you, which would also decrease my value in being married off.”
Crewel’s balance slipped and he knocked his teacup off of his desk, coughing. The cup chattered against the floor, and he was too preoccupied to even care. “Goodness gracious, you’ve gotten ahead of yourself—”
“...and with the options I have to choose from, I came to you.” Riddle folded his hands in his lap. His face was beet red despite how steady he’d kept his tone. “The process of elimination was rather simple, but aside from that, you know me as a student. Even though I’m offering much of my own personal agency to you, surely… you’ll let me continue to be a student, right?” His question ended in a whisper, shoulders slumped as though he was worried Crewel would treat him as disposable as well.
Crewel took Riddle in with a new light. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard said in the calmest way possible. Do you hear yourself?”
“Yes. I—”
“Would you seriously do this?” pressed Crewel, kneeling down in front of Riddle, tilting Riddle’s chin up to hold his gaze. Riddle flinched, and Crewel smiled with satisfaction. “Come in here and offer an alpha twice your age total agency over your body, just to avoid your mother?”
Riddle swallowed hard. His expression was pained, but his voice was as level as he could force it to be. “Yes. I’d do anything to not go back.”
Crewel grimaced.
“I mean it,” insisted Riddle. “Anything you say, as long as I can finish at NRC. Please.”
“I didn’t ask that because I’m into the idea of sleeping with a student, Rosehearts.” Crewel groaned. “I said it because you sound insane. Frankly, you’re making me worried about you.”
“Then you understand how dire my situation is.”
Crewel sat back down in his desk chair with another deep sigh. He put his face in his hands, mulling it all over. “You’ve never been a liar, nor have you been prone to hysterics. I’m inclined to believe you, but I find it difficult to believe this is your best option. Surely there are students of age to assist you.”
“Have you met them?” asked Riddle, wrinkling his nose.
Crewel huffed, almost chuckling. “Point taken.”
“I need someone I can trust.” Riddle still spoke to his knees, eyes round and bloodshot. “No one here would do this out of selflessness. It’s why I’m prepared to compensate any way I can. Don’t try to say there will be a conflict of interest; Headmaster Crowley won’t care, and I get 100% in every class regardless. You could give me extra work if you like. I’ll do it.”
“I’m sure you will,” muttered Crewel.
“As an omega, I’m at my age of consent anyway,” pressed Riddle. “So… it’s fine.”
Their eyes met again and Riddle blushed, looking away. His posture still radiated fear.
“You’re not fine at all.” Crewel waved his wand, sweeping up the broken teacup and depositing it in the trash with ease. Another wave, and a teapot and two new cups and saucers floated over to him, the teapot already steaming before it rested on his desk. “I have half a mind to give you a cup of tea, send you to bed, and forget this conversation ever happened.”
Riddle sniffled again. “Please don’t! Please, I… I’ll find someone else.”
That’s what Crewel was afraid of.
“Stubborn, aren’t you?” Crewel eyed Riddle again, this time with a more appreciative purpose. He’d always been beautiful, though his true beauty shone the brightest in his brilliance and intellect. He much preferred Riddle as his confident, enthusiastic self, rather than the frightened shell trying to sell his own body for a modicum of freedom, but it would take some trust to get him back there again.
Damn it. Crewel was already considering Riddle’s situation.
“What you need, for the time being, is for an alpha to scent you regularly so you seem either claimed or like an alpha yourself to your classmates so no one starts prying or spreading rumors. I can provide that.”
Riddle sagged with relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t get too excited. You don’t know if we’re compatible at all yet.”
Riddle frowned. “That doesn’t matter.”
Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d always imagined that Riddle was overly demanding in interpersonal relationships. Either he was wrong, or the sheer stress of presenting had rewritten Riddle’s entire personality. “You poor rescue pup. It does matter that you have an alpha whose scent you like cloaking yours. The alternative is unbearable enough you might as well not bother.”
“I don’t care how I feel. I just need to be here.”
My life isn’t my own anymore. Riddle sounded like he’d already given a chunk of it up.
Crewel managed to pour Riddle a cup of the herbal tea, adding in a sugar cube and bringing it to him with short, determined strides. “I care, is that good enough? You may see me as a classic domineering alpha, which isn’t entirely wrong, but I’ve never taken someone to bed who was terrified of me. I’m not going to start now.”
Riddle took the teacup, blinking away tears. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
More and more, it was becoming apparent that Riddle expected to be hurt at every turn, as though that was simply the rules of life.
Even though he’d never met her, Crewel’s opinion of Riddle’s mother was plummeting by the second. His father too, for good measure.
Crewel sipped his own tea back in his main chair without really tasting it. Riddle seemed to not pay attention to his own either, automatically taking a drink every now and then without comment. Crewel hoped it would at least soothe Riddle’s throat from the crying he'd obviously done even before rushing in.
“Alright. There's one way to see how our scents blend.” Crewel peeled off the patch on the back of his neck, exposing his alpha glands to the air. Even as a new omega, he was certain Riddle would pick up on it. Riddle indeed froze for a moment, breath hitching in his throat. Crewel smirked, patting his thigh. “Get closer then, pup. Be honest with me.”
Riddle squirmed, as though the full implications of his words were finally sinking in. “Now?” he asked.
“You barged in here asking me for an intimate, sexual relationship.” Crewel stared Riddle down, daring him to approach. “If you can't get on my lap fully clothed, then you weren't serious after all.”
Alarm flashed across Riddle’s face. “No, I can do it. I apologize.”
Crewel would have to work with him about the startling amount of apologies he made. They had a lot to work on if Riddle was going to be his, even temporarily.
The poor thing had to learn how to want anything, for one.
He also needed Riddle to not expect the worst from every moment they were together.
Riddle hesitantly approached him, trembling as he leaned down to politely sniff near Crewel’s neck. As a greeting, it wasn't bad, but they were going to be much more than that. Crewel laid his hands on Riddle’s waist, guiding him closer, easing him down so he sat sideways on top of Crewel with a squeak.
“Good boy,” praised Crewel, stroking Riddle’s sides. Riddle's face and ears went bright pink. Ah, his pup did well with positive reinforcement. “How do you feel?”
“Nervous.”
At least he was honest.
“That’s okay.” Crewel leaned his head to the side, allowing Riddle to get close. “And when you scent me?”
Riddle moved in close, tip of his nose pressed to Crewel’s neck.
Riddle’s body instantly relaxed.
A soft puff of breath blew against Crewel’s scent glands, sending a thrill down his spine. Riddle seemed oblivious to it, sighing and nuzzling closer. “Safe,” he mumbled, talking into Crewel’s fur coat more than anything.
The main emotion an omega felt when sensing their alpha was often the one they needed most.
It didn’t surprise Crewel that Riddle needed reassured that he was safe.
It just made his chest ache, protectiveness flaring inside of him.
Crewel absentmindedly rubbed Riddle’s back. He already knew from past partners what notes his aroma gave off, but he was curious to know how Riddle would describe it. “Can you put a name to anything else?”
Riddle laid his cheek on Crewel’s shoulder, which already felt like good progress. “Tea, like Earl Grey. Perhaps, something else familiar, like your cologne?”
“I believe there's more.”
Riddle shifted his position. “I didn't want to possibly be rude… and a hint of smoke.”
“What a good nose my little hound has.” Riddle made a soft sound in response. Crewel pet Riddle’s hair. Now that he was closer, Riddle’s scent was mellowing out into its natural state. “Hmmm. What else would you smell like but strawberries? It's quite nice.”
Crewel meant it as a compliment, but Riddle went rigid.
“She'll hate it,” he mumbled, his new dose of shame souring his scent.
Crewel barely bit back a growl. He'd expected his pup to be fiesty, not this.
“You like rules, don't you?”
Riddle’s head bolted up, at attention. “Rules ensure things run smoothly. They're for the best regarding a relationship like this, or any relationship.”
What a take. Crewel wasn't exactly surprised, though. That made some of it easy. What he wanted to say was, I don't give a damn what your mother thinks, but he settled for:
“Rule number one: as your alpha, my opinion is the only one that matters regarding your appearance, body, and behavior.”
Riddle opened his mouth wordlessly, shocked, closing it again with a nod.
“Which means,” pressed Crewel. “That if I give you a compliment, I expect it to be accepted wholeheartedly.”
“I apologize.” Riddle already looked close to crying again. Crewel soothingly rubbed his back, growing more protective by the moment. That anyone had been so strict, far beyond his measures, to turn his student into this was unacceptable.
“Rule number two: I’m never going to punish you out of nowhere. I don't want you to be scared of me.”
Riddle nodded mutely. Crewel wondered if he actually believed him.
“Rule number three: come to me any time you need something, even if it seems small. You're going through a lot, and frankly, I'm still worried. Let me help however you need.”
Riddle wanted patiently. He frowned, tilting his head. “And?”
“That covers the basics.” Crewel pressed his nose to Riddle’s temple, wanting another whiff of strawberry. “As long as you come by every couple of days, you'll retain my scent. I'm sending you home with a care kit anyway, since it has more herbal tea and patches for your neck.”
Riddle’s fingertips dug into Crewel’s shoulders, face going pale again. “What else?”
“What else what?” retorted Crewel. “Keep on top of your academics and other responsibilities, of course.”
Riddle shook his head, frantic. “What other rules? I need specifics so I know what to do. I don't know. I don't already know!” His voice grew higher in pitch, body trembling. “You need to tell me, I'll follow them all, I promise!”
“Calm down.” Crewel raised his palm to gently pet Riddle’s face, noting that Riddle flinched at first. “I'm not tricking you, and I already said I don't want you to be frightened of me.” Riddle’s cheek was soft and warm under his touches. After a moment, Riddle leaned into it, letting out a quiet whimper. “When I bring a new puppy home, I set my expectations from the start, which is all I just did. You don’t need to do anything else differently. Do you have specific questions?”
Riddle looked troubled. “What am I allowed to do when it’s just the two of us?”
It was like he expected to walk into a 24/7 D/S relationship from the start. Crewel suddenly got a wave of sympathy for Heartslabyul students who'd all been under Riddle’s rule at his worst. Crewel was getting a sense of where it had come from.
“To be honest? Let's leave it at where we're at. Anything above the belt is fine, and where I'll stay too.” Physical contact was inevitable for proper scent marking, and Crewel could already tell Riddle needed comfort and touch on a regular basis, even if he pretended otherwise.
Riddle gnawed his lip. “And… the crying. I'm sorry.”
Crewel scoffed before he could rethink it. “Do you honestly think I'm such a monster that I'd lash out at you for crying?”
Riddle winced, eyes down. “I guess you wouldn't.”
Implying someone else did.
“Riddle, I'm sorry.” Crewel stroked Riddle’s tearstained face again. It was just like dealing with a traumatized rescue. “I should've realized that you were reacting a certain way for a reason. You never need to apologize for crying or being overwhelmed, okay?”
Riddle nodded, but he was shaking again.
Crewel fully embraced him in a hug, holding his smaller body close with ease. Riddle made a soft, confused sound into his shoulder. “Let it out,” said Crewel, patient as he rubbed Riddle’s upper back. “This is what I'm here for as your alpha. Between tears and blot, I'd rather deal with the tears, wouldn't you?”
Riddle seemed to accept it when framed like that. His chest heaved and he sobbed, breaking down from overwhelm as Crewel held him. His tears and snot undoubtedly made the fur coat due for a dry cleaning, but Crewel pushed that thought aside, the crown jewel of all of NRC falling to pieces in his arms.
It was just for the legal protection, right?