FPE x reader

the office

"Come to my office after class," Miss Circle's voice echoed in your ears, a siren call that do not thrill but terrified you. You stood there, a marionette with strings pulled taut, nodding as if your life depended on it. Perhaps it did.
You couldn't breathe. The air thickened, suffocating you. Your lungs rebelled, but you maintained that brittle smile. What had you done? Was it the last exam? The one where you'd scribbled answers like a mad artist, hoping coherence would emerge from chaos? Or was it Oliver and Zip—the dynamic duo who'd turned your life into a sitcom? Miss Circle's wrath could be capricious, like a cat deciding whether to pounce or nap.
Your mind raced through scenarios:
The Exam Debacle: You'd imagined her wielding a compass, stabbing your paper with precision. "This is for your lack of quadratic equations mastery!" she'd declare, eyes ablaze.
Oliver and Zip: Had they whispered secrets about you? Did they reveal your penchant for doodling fractals during lectures?
And that look. Oh, that one look. It defied geometry. Not acute, not obtuse—just... ambiguous. Was it disdain? Or a clandestine invitation to unravel the mysteries of the universe together? You'd never know. But your heart fluttered like a moth near a flame. Dangerous.
Miss Circle glided away, her heels clicking a Morse code of doom. You contemplated smashing your head against the wall. Why not? Life was a series of collisions anyway—skull, wall, skull, wall. But you refrained. Early death, late death—what did it matter?
She resumed teaching, oblivious to your emotional typhoon. Yet, her gaze wandered. A lighthouse beam seeking a ship lost at sea. Was it your imagination, or did her smile widen? Was this a math problem?
Equation: Miss Circle + Office Visit = ?
probably death

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Your eyes devoid of light, an instinct propelled you toward Miss Circle's office. You felt like you were stepping into an abyss—surely it couldn't be that bad... but your confidence wavered. Hesitating for seconds, you finally summoned the courage to knock on her door. It swung open almost instantly, as if anticipating your arrival. Before you stood a swath of black fabric. She was tall—really tall. The pressure hit you like a sheep encountering a cheetah.
"Miss Circle..." you began, your voice a fragile thread. "Come in," she replied, eyes narrowing, a smile playing on her lips. Her dark-clad fingers gripped your shoulder, pulling you inside. Too close. For teacher and student, her body nearly brushed against yours. The scent invaded your nostrils. Alarm bells screamed in your mind. Instinct whispered escape, but you felt trapped, like prey about to be devoured. You wanted to cry.
Would she actually eat you? The thought clawed at your sanity. Her sharp fingers prodded your woolen sweater, grazing your skin. You shivered, seconds stretching into eons. Finally, her reluctant claws released you. You weren't about to be torn apart. But the fear lingered—terrifying.