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Motivation ~ Claude Faustus IV

Claude Faustus x Teacher!Demon!Reader

Your thin rimmed glasses pushed up by your long, manicured (Darker Shade of Favorite Color) nails, which seemed very out of place for a high class demon like yourself. Your fuchsia eyes closed, a sigh of disappointment leaving your lips. You shook your head, hands resting below your breasts, in fact pushing them up a bit with your arms. "Wrong, wrong, wrong!" You repeated for the upteenth time as Claude's routine hadn't met your demanding standards.

Claude grit his teeth, eye twitching in pure irritation. Working on this for three days straight, the self proclaimed "Master of the many Dances", could not meet the standards of a Samba-Dancing demon. Though they don't need the luxury of sleep, Claude felt the aching want for a long nap. Forcing himself to bow in apology, Claude spoke to your through grit teeth. "I apologize. Will you give me the pleasure of showing me again?"

You opened your eyes and took off your glasses, staring at the contracted demon with a smug smirk. "Of course," You began twirling a lock of hair between your fingers, as if deciding whether or not to actually to show him once again. "However you seem very unmotivated. I don't believe you have the want to actually learn from me. Ah, how pitiful. And you claim to be a great dancer." You sighed out in exaggeration, turning on your heel to face the grand dining table he prepared for his young master. "Find your motivation, then come find me, Mister Spider."

Claude watched your slow strides with frustration, it seems. You were walking so painfully slow. To give him enough time to think about his motivation? What was his motivation for taking up such a daring claim to dancing? He did not know. As your footsteps was the only thing heard, resonating throughout the room like a grandfather clock, Claude reeled through his mind, before suddenly coming to the conclusion under his nose.

You stopped in your tracks, gazing up at the golden irises of the demon whom had just teleported in front of you. "That quick?" You asked with surprise, wondering how such a cold heart could find aspiration in mere minutes. "Well then. Hit me with your best shot, my dear pupil."

Claude took your wrist, pulling you towards him, other arm wrapping around your waist. Your eyebrows rose, but you played along, sliding your hand onto his shoulder, and intertwining fingers. His breath fanned your lips as he finally answered your question. "My dear teacher," Claude mimicked. "You are my motivation." He began the very complex dance that you should surely know. "I aim to crush you from that throne of yours, and take that crown as mine."

"Oh!" You laughed heartedly, watching his golden hues turn their original fuchsia color. You spun quickly, following the movements of the silent rhythm leading you two. "Then I suppose you have too much of a way to go," You replied, tilting your head and challenging the confident male. You removed your interlocked hands, putting it behind his neck with the other as you leaned him in to whisper in his ear. "I'll take you every step of the way, so don't make me waste my time.

Claude's hands placed firmly on your waist, he found amusement in your cooperation. "I don't intent to."

E x t r a :

Bringing Claude under your knee, you repeatedly abused him for his mistake. "No!" You shouted, like a beast tamer shouting to it's rouge tiger. "It's right then left!" (In the background, both Alois and Ciel (for some reason) were whooping, cheering you on while you had lectured the stoic man.)

Claude grit his teeth, the pain hardly enough to make him bleed, but enough to leave bruises. He glared up at you, finally taking an iron grip on both your wrists. Claude dragged you down and pinned you to the polished floor, ready for sweet revenge.