#I didn't expect him to bounce back like that

[thepitlanepress]

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? –

↳ max verstappen + gf!mom!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: since i have the emotional and mental stamina and strength of a decaying cabbage rn this idea has graciously been given to me by my other half @arqbella so big thanks to her for this <3 this is also a short one bc as stated earlier decaying cabbage

"liefje?" max's calls out from the kitchen.

he usually expects an answer within the range of three to forty seconds. if you're super distracted a minute tops. you've alway had this thing- no matter what, whenever max calls you, you somehow hear him every time.

he thinks you also just like it when he calls you liefje or any nickname in dutch. your favorite is liefje though, as you've told him oh so many times.

because who wouldn't want to be called liefje by max verstappen are the exact words you use.

so when you don't answer him for a solid five minutes, he goes searching. he's hopeless at this recipe and needs your expertise before he blows the kitchen up.

"liefje?" max calls out again, still no answer. you must be upstairs somewhere with the baby then.

when he reaches the second floor he calls out your name again, but still no answer.

what is going on?

and being the dedicated boyfriend that he is, he gives up on his search and starts to return to the kitchen hoping things didn't explode in the kitchen while he was gone. surely he can work out how follow the instructions and have a perfect little surprise for you when you come down stairs.

just when he reaches the top step he hears your voice. its higher pitched and it sounds like you're mumbling nonsense so you must be talking to the baby.

whenever he stumbles in on you with the baby you always seems to be singing, or talking, or even gossiping to your little girl, who stares back at you with wide eyes - and an adorable face.

he decides the kitchen will be safe without him - what a mistake that was - and follows the two of his favorite sounds in the world. your voice and your baby's laugh.

he gently pushes the door open and leans on the door frame as he- what are you singing?

"du du du du max verstappen," you coo to the little bundle in you arms. "du du du du max verstappen!" you bounce about causing a little laugh to erupt out of your daughter.

"what are you doing, liefje?" max asks a mix between a smile and a frown on his face.

"i'm singing our daughter a song that i like," is all you supply.

"really because it sounds awful lot like the song that i don't like."

"i'm educating our child on how her papa is a famous f1 driver."

"i think the excessive amount of f1 things in this room will do- its practically a shrine, liefje."

"i happen to like it," you huff at max and smile at your daughter. "and so does she, look at her face, see? she loves it."

"i think she loves the fact that her mama is singing and dancing with her," he points out he says pushing off the doorframe and coming to stand beside you and look over you shoulder at the little girl in your arms.

you both stand there for a mometn just savouring the little peace and memory that you'll most likely keep for a long while.

well that was until, "du du du du max verstappen."

"really?"

[teradul]

I don't feel like a show on Noxus/Ionia can't go back in the timeline, but I do feel like it will be assumed it does come next unless the show itself makes clear that it isn't.

And those option are kinda weird. The least invasive option would be to bring in either Kino or Ambessa, as they both are dead character that could appear there, but that brings in expectations that they'll be key players here, even if they're just there to establish a timeline. Great if you wanna use them, terrible if you think you already have a lot of plates going on.

The second one is to have characters discuss the rebellion we see on the flashback of Arcane and make sure that you make clear it is the past one, which could be somewhat clunky and it'll definitely be the kind of thing that people will say "I don't get that, I didn't see the other show." and maybe even bounce off of because it can feel like homework, but could be done.

And I don't really think that either of these options are worth the hassle when the payoff is to have a timeline that is crowded by virtue of things that you're no longer bound by (the comic-book-like approach of several artists working on "present day" concurrent storylines)

I just think it is much, much better if they allow themselves to expand the timeline of the events. We see the Black Rose being kinda backed into a corner, so we could see this as the reason they pushed Darkwill into invading in the first place, and that kind of carelessness is what tips off Swain to their existance and makes so they have to make a calculated sacrifice and everything in that plot structure just flows well.

I also think commiting to this longer timeline is good for the people in the know as well. On Noxus alone, working pre-invasion of Ionia means we could explore things that haven't been deeply explored, like Annie's and Rell's mothers and their relationship with the Black Rose, young Talon, Katarina and Cassiopeia. Urgot, before all of the shit happened to him. And that last one can be a way of setting us up to a return to Vi and Cait in Zaun, and all of that just sounds so, so, SO much better to be than to drop us off at the current timeline just because.

Holy fuck Welcome to Noxus is amazing.

And I do mean that. And part of the hype is for how it folds Arcane in, but it also kinda has me worried.

Like, with Arcane and its canon, the best approach to the timeline is to let all of the cuncurrent events that work in a comic-book like environment of connected but mostly self-contained stories (that necessitates that concurrentness given the scope of the stories and the number of artists working on different parts at any given moment) to be spread out into a much larger timeline. Where a strong narrative drive can be better explored.

And with the state of the Noxian invasion of Ionia, especially the Singed of it all, it would be, imo, the best interest of the story to make Arcane as early in this timeline as possible. Before the first invasion of Ionia, AT LEAST. Makes sense, right?

But we see Katarina going against the Black Rose. And we see them talk about the next move while teasing what seems like Riven's Blade. And all of that is very much post-invasion stuff. Like, Katarina has her daggers infused, which also means we're post J3's death and in the middle of the Mage rebellion in Demacia, which is something that with "The Arcane is waking up" from the show, would have fit much more easily into the Sylas is recruited by the mageseekers part of that plotline than being forced to be happening right now.

We're currently 1 step removed from Arcane and shit is already looking wobbly at the seams because it was never intended to work like this, and even though Welcome to Noxus was incredibly hype and might be dethroning RISE to me, it very much needs you not to think too much about the broader universe implications, despite its purpose being trying to sell me on that broader universe.

[natsuminmin]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 500 MILLION HOURS -> ushijima wakatoshi !!!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ alexandra by reality club

synopsis; in which ushijima slowly realizes he's grown fond of the unexpected, as long as it was in the shape of you cw: fluff/slight angst (?), yearning obvi , ushi doesnt what to make of his feelings , pre!timeskip, unproofread + lowercase, can be interpreted as gn! , self-indulgent , ooc grr... (lmk if i forget something!!!)

"on a park bench, under the moon"

ushijima shouldn't have cared that much.

it was just a hug...right? it didn't mean anything?

enough, he wont torture himself with this. human emotions weren't exactly his strongest suit. he should just stick to volleyball.

but why did he feel his heart race when he looked down at you, with your arms wrapped around him? you who he towered over so easily? one look in your eyes and he found it hard to fight his irrational urge to pick you up and cradle you close to his body. excuse me...where did that even come from?

he cleared his throat to clear his mind, his gravelly voice filling the air.

"you're being clingy right now." yep, that was ushijima. blunt and concise as always. he saw you pull away with a huff, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, maybe. he couldn't tell, all he knew was that he might've wanted your embrace around him for a second longer. his thoughts stopped swirling when you cut through it with your voice, something he always compared to the melodic tunes of a windchime, even as you used it to get sarcastic with him. he never did really get your humor.

"well, you should be used to it. we've been friends for forever."

"it's only been 5 years. besides, we'd both die before we become 'friends for forever.'"

you groaned at him with indignation, did he always have to take things so literally? it was only an exaggeration....you resumed your earlier pace, returning into a stride as you remembered why you were out so late at night anyway.

popsicles were far too good...it was a hot midnight and you craved some after being woken up to a dream of it. naturally, you texted him first. and here you were, sneaking out of the dorms as the both of you walked to the convenience store. you don't know how you managed to convince him to go with you. you didn't even notice how quickly his reply had sent, as if he was waiting for hours to hear from you.

just as you began to retort, he suddenly spoke and clashed with your own words:

"well-"

"you've never hugged me this much."

you cut yourself off to let him finish speaking. the both of you walk in the tranquility of night for a second, as if trying to let that awkward moment float away in the soft breeze.

what? why were you looking at him in that way? he was just being honest....you know he's always been blunt. you wouldn't judge him, would you? he was relieved when you broke the silence, letting out a soft breath. why was he so worried if he weirded you out? it's not like he expected you to run back to your dorm and leave him alone with a broken heart. nope, not at all.

"is it a crime to want to hug a friend? brighten up sometimes, ushi."

before he could say that he was not a flashlight therefore he could not brighten up, and that it was never a crime to touch someone unless it was to an extreme, you shushed him; as if you almost knew what he was going to say already. which you probably did...god, why did that make his heart squeeze?

"a-ba-bah-bah, don't say anything. let's just buy the popsicles.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

he found himself sitting at a park bench beside you, who was noisily slurping up the popsicles you had purchased and was obviously annoyed that it had melted that quickly. well, that's what popsicles usually did in the heat, after all

your beauty was simply divine, even when you were making the silliest faces as you tried to catch the juice that dripped down the popsicle stick. he thought you could rival even the goddess' when he saw the moonlight bounce off your eyes, making it sparkle more so than it usually did.

he noticed that you downed both of the popsicles immediately, leaving you with two plain sticks. he watched you stare at them for a while, before tucking it under your lips to create makeshift fangs.

"i'm dracula, bleh bleh blegh"

then you doubled over laughing at the joke (?) you made, he presumed. he was not getting any better at this.

he doesn't understand you.

he hates it. hates not knowing what you'll do next.

strangely enough, it's what draws him to you. he wants to analyze you. he wants to laugh at your jokes. he wants to know how you wanted to be loved. he wants to learn every single nook and cranny that created the outline of you.

he's aware volleyball was all he's ever mastered.

but you....you make him feel emotions that he didn't know he was possible of feeling. like he could dive in choppy waters and remain unscathed. heck, he felt cocky enough to puff up his chest and say those three special words already.

my god, if he can't focus on the only thing he knows, then what was he?

oh no.

he. was. a. fool.

for you, no less.

he so badly wanted to risk your friendship and confess at that very moment, yearned to finally grasp you in his arms the way you did.

no, screw that. he wouldn't know what to do.

so he resolved to wait instead. to wait until you made the first move. to wait until you had shown reassurance that you longed for him as much as he did for you.

if only he knew what was running in your mind as you chewed absent-mindedly on your popsicle stick, then he'd know that his feelings weren't unrequited after all. all you were thinking about was your next move, you had to make it bigger and bolder, because he just wouldn't get it otherwise. the signs were all there, she , ushijima. it's a shame, really.

but whatever, he's decided that he'd spend 500 million hours waiting, dedicate all his minutes to you; in hopes that you would finally find your way to your rightful place:

by his side.

"but in full view of what you are, you’re a goddess, you’re my rock star"

a/n: hahehuhiho i love basing my fics on songs sm. i remember yapping to my friend about creating this fic and said i should go for it...uu have her to thank gyus UGHH I CANT GET OVER HIM I WANNA MAKE MORE FICS WITH THIS KIND OF USHI should i make this into a 3-part fic that ends in total angst

[demigodsanswer]

Could we see modern royals percabeth and their babies 🥺

Here's one baby for now. A look at Percy and Annabeth (Ambritt) as parents from a third party

When Maria started working for the royal family after the death of the queen, she hadn't expected to stay employed by them for this long. Little Ambritt was a sweet girl and easy enough to take care of. It was rare for her to be out of her father's sight if she wasn't in school, meaning that there was little for Maria to do most of the time. After Ambritt had aged out of needing a nanny, Maria was bounced around to cousins, other nobles, and even recommended to a few wealthy people. She enjoyed the work. It took her around the world, kept her housed in lavish spaces, and surrounded by small children.

But being recalled to the royal family to help take care of Ambritt's own baby did make Maria feel as old as dirt.

Sofia was an easy child to care for, much like Ambritt herself. Oh, even at three months, she had her mother's spirit and lungs, without a doubt. And she wasn't exactly sleeping through the night yet. But her parents didn't exactly leave Maria with much work to do.

It was Sofia's first time in an airplane. The three-month-old was handling the noise and pressure changes well, although she hadn't let her father put her down the entire flight. Her parents were flying the family (and Maria) to Paris to celebrate their first wedding anniversary.

Even in the air, Ambritt was taking meetings, already joining her father in important national conversations when she could.

The consort wasn't needed, and so he was sitting and chatting with Maria. The consort had always been warm and kindly interested in hearing about her life. He particularly seemed to relish in stories of his wife's wild childhood years. The little princess was tucked into his arms, her eyes wide open, listening to them speak over the rumble of the engines. She had come into the world with blue eyes, like most little babies, but they had soon shifted to her father's green. For now, her head was covered in sparse blonde curls, but Maria suspected they would go brown or even black in due time just by looking at her father.

Sofia opened her mouth and made an uncomfortable little whining noise that bubbled up then into cries.

Before Percy could begin to assess his daughter's needs, the princess (the older one, that was), turned from her computer, her arms outstretched, and said: "She's hungry," as if the baby had spoken in plain Swedish.

Maria started to stand, but Percy just told her, "Oh, I've got it, stay, please." He passed his child to Ambritt, and then retrieved the nursing blanket, draping it carefully over his wife's shoulder as Ambritt undid her shirt and bra, eyes and ears still on the conversation.

"Should we give you a minute, ma'am?" A voice said over the computer.

"I'm alright," Ambritt confirmed.

A few minutes later, there was a fussy sound from under the blanket. Before Maria could stand, the parents passed the child from one to the other, the consort ready with a cloth over his shoulder.

"Your highness, I can --" Maria started.

"Don't you dare," Percy said with a smile as his daughter spit up onto the cloth.

"She's due for a nap, if she'll sleep on this thing," Ambritt said, removing the blanket now that her blouse was back in place.

"We'll do our best," Percy said, standing and bouncing his knees to rock the child. Maria could tell the we was simply him and his daughter.

Maria sat back in her seat and considered how many minutes were left until landing, while she watched the little princess fall asleep on her father.

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 4

Part 3

Gilbert: What's wrong, little rabbit?

I take Gilbert's hand, which was resting on my cheek, and held it in mine.

Emma: Even so, thank you very much.

Gilbert: ......

Gilbert: You're not listening to me at all, are you?

Emma: This is my thanks after having listened to you.

Gilbert: You're forgiving my evil deeds.

Emma: …… It may be an outrageous thing to say, but……

Emma: The important thing is, "how do I perceive it now", isn't it?

I let go of his cold hand and pick up the report that Gilbert was holding. The detailed contents might be frightening to some people.

(Even I wouldn't have been able to accept this so readily in the past.)

Emma: If Michael hadn't been there at that time, I would have been attacked by bandits.

Emma: At best, I would have only had my books stolen, but at worst, I could have died.

Emma: Whatever the circumstances, Gil saved me.

Emma: Whether that was out of malice or good will …… it's up to me to decide.

Gilbert: .....

Emma: More than anything, I've come to like Gil now.

Emma: It might be difficult for me to see it as malice like I used to.

(Gilbert occasionally warns me like this so that I can keep a normal perspective.)

(…… I think he's a fair person.)

Gilbert: Haha, you poor thing.

Gilbert: But…… I'm glad you don't hate me.

(……!)

Gilbert gently brushed my hand away and stood up.

Gilbert: Let's stop chatting for now.

Gilbert: Emma, you can throw that away.

Emma: Even though it was kept so carefully?

Gilbert: Yeah, I don't need it anymore.

Gilbert: The poor little rabbit is now being directly monitored by the villain.

(That's true, too.)

(...)

(Even if I become his fiancée, I won't be able to understand everything about Gilbert's heart.)

(But…… I feel like I understand what he's thinking at this moment.)

Emma: Gil.

I put the report on the shelf and hug Gilbert with enough force to bump into him.

Gilbert: What is it?

Emma: Just to be clear, I'm not forgiving you for everything.

Emma: I sometimes can't understand Gil's evil deeds…… At those times, I'll properly object to them.

Gilbert: Oh, really?

Emma: Have you forgotten? I'm watching you so that you don't do anything bad to Rhodolite.

Emma: I'm not the only one being watched by Gil.

(I will discern my own good and evil without being swayed by Gilbert.)

(That's…… because I think that's what Gilbert expects of me the most.)

Emma: So, don't worry.

Emma: Even if I love you, I'm not that blind.

His blood-colored eyes wavered slightly––and then gently softened.

Gilbert: …… You're too much.

Gilbert: You see right through everything.

His cold hand caressed my cheek again, and his lips were sealed by the shadow that fell.

Gilbert: I was finally getting in the mood to restart cleaning.

Emma: ……Nn……Gil?

The villain didn't stop pecking at my lips, and he sensually stroked my back from my waist.

Gilbert: I don't care anymore.

Emma: ……!……The cleaning……

Gilbert: You want me to do it properly?

Emma: No……

(If he touches me like this……I don't care anymore either.)

Emma: Can we do it……tomorrow……?

The breath that escaped my lips was hot, and my body was already pleading for the cleaning to end.

Gilbert: Hahaha, you're a bad girl too, aren't you?

Emma: ……But Gil, you were the one who asked for it first.

Gilbert: Yeah, but……

Gilbert: It's your responsibility for responding to it.

-

I catch my breath as it bounces on the jet-black sheets.

Gilbert, who has me pinned down, continues to caress my skin with tantalizingly gentle touches, having taken all my clothes off.

His fingertips, which avoided touching the places I wanted to be touched and only moved around the surrounding areas, had a clear malice to them.

(...It's embarrassing to say it directly...)

Emma: Come to think of it……

Emma: Is Michael still in Rhodolite?

Gilbert: Yeah, he is.

Emma: Why…… Ah

His fingers graze the peaks of my chest, and the ache deep in my stomach intensifies.

Gilbert: Oh no, who said you were the only one I had Michael keep an eye on?

Gilbert: Actually, I asked him to watch someone else too.

(Someone else……)

(……Could it be––)

Gilbert: Haha, little rabbit. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Emma: Eh……?

Gilbert: Thinking about another man while I'm right here in front of you.

Emma: ……The only thing I did on purpose was bring up Michael.

(I thought if I made him jealous, he might touch me more properly.)

Gilbert: Is that so? But it doesn't matter.

Gilbert: Why can you smile so gently while thinking about another man?

(I……was smiling.)

(But that's because––……)

Emma: ...Ah! Ah, nn—

Suddenly, the fingers that had been so gentle strongly stimulated a sensitive spot.

Emma: Haa... Wait... Aaa...Nn...

My body seemed to be more sensitive than usual, and honey immediately flowed between my legs.

Gilbert: That's terrible. I'm hurt.

Overwhelmed by a pleasure beyond imagination––

Just before I lost consciousness, the hand full of malice finally let go.

Gilbert: So, what exactly was that smile of yours about?

Gilbert: Depending on your answer……you understand, right?

He flicked my nipple with his finger, and a gasp escaped my lips.

Emma: Tha—Nn...That's not...true...

I force my ragged breathing to calm down and capture Gilbert's face in my blurred vision.

Emma: ...Gil is...

Emma: I just...thought you were a worrywart...

(He's extremely soft on people he's let his guard down around once.)

(...Though that sweetness can sometimes turn into malice––)

Gilbert: It can't be helped. Because in this world...

Gilbert: There are so many things that need to be cleaned up.

.

.

.

FIN

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[cheriipetal]

ᯓ★ Chap. 3 | Big feelings, Small words

Sypnosis .𖥔 ݁ You were like a ghost that's haunting him. But somehow he couldn't be scared of you, not wanting to exorcise you but wanting for you to stay with him.

── .✦ 4537 words.

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Rin looked at the TV screen, seeing the familiar scenes of his favorite movie brought a thrill to him. His hands clutched his toys, grip tightening whenever an exciting scene came up. It was getting to the good parts of the movie.

He jolted, hearing a rumble of a car stopping on its tracks, distracting him. Did his parents finally arrive?— he peeked outside from the window, but to his disappointment, they didn't.

He then lowered his head, ready to go back to his spot on the couch. That's when he saw you, a girl his age, stepping out of the car talking in English.

For some reason, the younger Itoshi didn’t know why his eyes couldn’t take themselves off of you. There wasn’t anything special about you—it’s not like you were doing a backflip while scoring a goal—yet you seemed to pull his gaze toward you like a magnet for his eyes. It wasn’t your toy or dress, it was just… you, maybe it was because of how you spoke English, were you a foreigner? He didn’t know at all.

“That’s probably the family that bought the lot,” Rin heard his older brother’s voice looming behind him. He looked at Sae, trying to see what he felt about this, but he had that unreadable expression like always.

The younger shook his head, clearing his thoughts away, trying to hide the strange feeling bubbling in his chest. “I… don’t care. They’re just gonna be NPCs to me,” he muttered, feigning indifference and moving away from the window, rushing toward the TV.

He turned curious and looked toward his brother, who was still observing the new neighbors.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Over the course of days, Rin couldn’t help but just peek over the window more often than he’d like to admit. He’d spot you playing on the front porch, sometimes with a stuffed toy in your hands.

“She’s just a neighbor,” Rin told himself firmly, shaking his head. “Nothing special.”

But his eyes still wandered to your front porch with pots of blooming colorful flowers whenever he thought no one was watching. He noticed how you often went out with your dad, your laughter echoing through the air.

“Rin!” Sae yelled during one of their practice drills, pulling him out of his thoughts.

The younger Itoshi panicked and shot the ball straight to the net, which was blocked by the goalie. Rin felt his heart beating as he missed the shot.

His breath heavy and panting, his teal eyes scanning his brother, who had an unreadable expression as usual.

“What’s up with you lately?” Sae suddenly asked, his hand glued to his hip.

“Huh?” Rin asked, trying to play it cool.

“It’s like you’re in la-la land. You’ve been in your head lately,” the older Itoshi said with nonchalance, but there was a tint of concern in it.

Silence was the only answer Rin replied with. He felt even more embarrassed by his older brother’s comment and an immense weight on his shoulders. He hated how Sae could always read him, hated how he wasn’t able to stay focused like his older brother does.

“I’m fine,” Rin mumbled, finally answering.

Sae didn’t press any further, but for the rest of the day, Rin wasn’t feeling himself. He couldn’t shake off the feeling, and it boiled every minute. He felt angry, but at what exactly? Himself? Nii-chan? Or you?

They arrived home, Sae went ahead. Rin remained static, wanting to let out all the frustration that was building up. The ball he was gripping in his hands bounced off of the pavement as he dropped it.

He then mustered all of his strength into the kick. He didn’t know what he was aiming at, but he just wanted to hit something. The ball bounced off the wall as expected, but it curved sharply in the direction behind him.

Rin turned around to follow where it was heading, but then it was going at your house at full speed. His gaze scanned if you were there, and to his disappointment, you were. Normally he felt happy seeing you, but at this moment, he wanted you to go inside.

The ball landed on the cup of milk, splashing it on your toy that you always carried. He felt frozen in place. Rin did what Sae always taught him to do if he got in trouble.

“Run and don’t look back,” and he did just that.

His legs moved as fast as they could and bolted for the ball. Rin’s eyes looked at you almost instinctively. He could see your face—your eyes widened and your jaw dropped like you were witnessing a crime happening. Once he grabbed the ball, he ran like he never did before and went to his home.

The shutting of the door was loud as he closed it, which caused Sae to peek over to see what was happening.

Rin felt his heart beating every moment. It wasn’t a good thrill like he felt when watching horror movies.

“What happened—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rin said, heading to his room. His hands were still gripping the ball that had the stain of the milk.

Today was a disaster.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next few days he stopped peeking over the window, there was a chance they might make eye contact. He felt the whole world was watching him.

Whenever he saw you outside he’d hurriedly hide like you were the killer on the loose. Rin didn’t know what to do— he couldn’t ask Sae for help, he’d just tease him about it and it would make him a loser in front of him.

He arrived at school, making his way over to his classroom and sat on a seat near the window. Rin had his head on his desk, still not getting over that incident— he prayed nothing else would happen.

But, of course, it did.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted you. Rin recognized that unmistakable hair color caught his attention immediately. You were walking in his direction, He tried to hide his face with his arms but that clearly didn’t work since you were still going straight at him.

The younger Itoshi just braced for what you were about to say. His mind went blank as you kept asking him to apologize and then you mentioned someone named Ms. Moe? Oh, it was your stuffed toy.

Rin just kept denying everything, not wanting to take responsibility and being found guilty.

He went home that day feeling even more worse, Rin just gave up and went to his older brother for guidance.

“Mom and Dad are going to be mad at you for messing with the new neighbour,” Sae said without looking up from his book. His tone was flat, but there was an edge of amusement in it.

“It’s not a big deal,” Rin grumbled.

“Not a big deal? You’re gonna get arrested,” Sae said, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

Rin’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah. There’s a law,” Sae continued, barely suppressing a smirk. “If you mess up someone's toy, you have to replace it. If you don’t, the police will come and take you away.”

Rin stared at him, horrified. Sae wasn’t joking. He never joked, Rin thought to himself.

“...Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Sae deadpanned.

To anyone they would’ve thought Sae was a big fat liar and just said that because he wanted to mess with him but to Rin— his brother was telling the truth since Rin always believed him.

And with that Rin rummaged with his toy box searching for anything in value most of it were just action figures and toy cars.

His eyes fell on an owl plushie that he loved, it was his favorite. It was the only stuffed toy that he had and the other toys didn’t seem like you would like them. It was one of his favorites— but he couldn’t risk getting arrested.

He came to the decision and put it in his school bag along with a mini toy house and a toy car for good measure.

Rin ended up apologizing to you the next day, even when it felt ego crushing for him. You had a wide smile on your face after he gifted you the apology gifts. He felt that unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest again, and this time, it wasn’t unpleasant. Rin forgot his embarrassment as you looked at the plushie.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Rin learned your name from the teacher calling it out for checking attendance. L/N Y/N. He didn’t know why it stuck to him. He’d never cared about someone else’s name before this.

You were like a ghost that's haunting him. But somehow he couldn't be scared of you, not wanting to exorcise you. He didn’t want to care, but there you were— always at the edge of his mind.

School was boring as ever, the lessons felt endless, the teachers were obnoxious, and the other kids were nothing but noise. Rin had always thought it was a waste of time.

But lately, school didn’t feel so intolerable. It wasn’t just the subjects or the lunch breaks— it was you. You’d started talking to him and Rin found himself answering back, he didn’t know why.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N always seemed to find him during recess or after school (obviously since they live right across the street from each other), chatting about things that he didn’t even make a thought about.

Sometimes, you’d pull him into games with your other friends, even though he said he didn’t like them. Somehow, you’d always made it fun for him.

Rin would never call you a friend— just a person that he tolerated and would never leave him alone. But he didn’t mind it as much as he would.

“Y/N, watch this!” The dark-green haired boy called out one noon, holding up his two action figures.

You turned your attention towards him, and Rin felt a spark of satisfaction.

He rammed his two action figures together like they were in an epic battle, mimicking the sound effects and dramatic crashes. But it was short lived—

Crack!

The two of you froze, staring at the toys now broken in half at the torso.

He shrugged it off, tossing the pieces on the ground aside. “They always break,” he muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of moving on, you crouched on the floor and began picking up the broken pieces.

“What are you doing? Just leave them,” Rin said flat but in an almost annoyed way.

“But these are your favorite toys, right? You can’t just leave them behind! Have you ever seen Toy Story?”

“No,” he simply replied, “what’s that?”

And that made you silent for a moment, then your face formed into shock, as if he just admitted guilty to a crime. You went closer to him which made him flinch a little by the proximity, “You have to come over to my house to watch it tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright! Don’t get too close,” Rin scolded, pushing you gently, suddenly aware of their closeness.

You grinned at him, that same bright smile you always had. And Rin felt a strange tug on his chest again— he still wasn’t getting used to it, but it was like his heart was telling something, he didn’t want to understand it.

Why did you always have to smile like that?

That weekend, Rin did end up going to your house. You lived right across the street, so it wasn’t much trouble getting here.

Standing outside, Rin glanced at your front door, hesitating before ringing the doorbell. Seconds later, the door opened, and he saw your mother walking out.

“You must be Mrs. Itoshi’s youngest kid!” Your mother warmly said, her voice is kind and soft. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you lately. Sounds like you two are getting along, maybe you should invite your brother to play with her as well,” Mrs. L/N suggested.

“Good morning, Mrs. L/N,” The dark-green haired boy mustered up to say.

He blinked, surprised. You’ve been talking about him? Rin shifted his weight awkwardly, his teal eyes eyeing at the inside of the house at the distance, searching for you.

Your mother notices the way he kept flickering his gaze past her and smiled knowingly.

You were already on the couch playing with Ms. Moe, clutching the stuffed toy in your arms as you patiently waited.

“N/N-chan, your friend is here!” Your mother called out, and your head shot up at the sound of her voice. The moment you saw Rin, you jumped and ran to and held his hand without hesitation.

“Come on, I want to show you something!” you said excitedly, pulling him towards your room upstairs.

The younger Itoshi let himself be led, his eyes darting towards the interior of your room. It was colorful and cozy, a reflection of you. Toys were scattered messily across the floor, he was taken aback by the amount of toys you had.

Then, he saw them— two familiar action figures propped up on your desk.

“I fixed them,” you announced proudly, noticing his gaze on the newly fixed toys. “Dad helped a little… but— I did most of the work!”

Rin took a step further, picking up the toys carefully this time— fearing it would break again. The cracks were faintly visible, but the pieces together almost perfectly.

He didn’t ask for it to be fixed. He didn’t even think you would. Yet, here they were, good as new.

For a moment he didn’t know what to say. But something in his chest made him feel warm.

“...Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, suppressing a smile. Gripping the toys a bit tighter.

“See? It’s like they’re alive again! Like in Toy story!” You said beaming at him, “Speaking of the movie. Let’s watch it now! And if we have time we can watch the sequel,”

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly brushed it off. “Alright,” he said, following you to the living room.

As you ran ahead, setting up and preparing the movie. He thought to himself, that he is starting to like you more and more and wanted to be more than just playmates at school.

He’s considering calling you his friend from now on.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You knew it, you were tearing down his cold walls each time you spent together. Rin was getting softer, though he’d never admit it.

Occasionally, he would try to impress, even if he masked it as something else. He’d invite you to his house, put a horror movie on, and be holding a proud smirking as you clung onto him, frightened— while he on the other hand didn’t seem fazed. For someone who acted so indifferent, he seemed to enjoy your attention more than he lets on.

It really did feel like you were making progress in your mission, much quicker than you anticipated. You loved learning about his dreams, passions, and tiny habits that no one else noticed.

As much as you liked learning about him there was one passion that you tried to avoid talking about— Soccer. You had enough of it, since Auntie Anri would be so busy because of it and you barely saw her anymore. You didn’t want it to be the same with Rin as well.

Unfortunately, Rin had different plans for this weekend. He was inviting you to play soccer in the field with his brother.

You sighed as you made your way into the field that he mentioned, kicking a pebble along the path. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted in the air, and the sight of trees blooming in soft pink hues lightened your mood. You loved spring— everything feels so alive and vibrant.

Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea. If nothing else, you gotta enjoy the scenery instead of briefly passing it with a car.

As you approached the field, two familiar figures were in the distance, they were the only ones who were playing under the bright sky. Peering at them at the entrance. You saw Rin’s older brother noticed you first, then soon Rin noticed as well and made his way over to you.

“What took you so long?” the younger Itoshi said, laced with concern but tried to conceal it.

“Sorry, Rin,” You said in a shrug with a light and unapologetic tone, “I was just admiring the cherry blossoms while walking— they are very pretty this time of year,” you explained.

His brows furrowed and gave you a small frown but there wasn’t any hint of surprise like he expected this of you. “Whatever, let’s just play.”

As you dropped off your bag on a bench, you noticed Rin’s older brother giving you a few side glances, Rim said that he was here to keep an eye on them. You were still wondering what he meant when he said a few weeks ago. Come to think of it, you didn’t know his name, Rin always referred to him as Nii-chan. You made a mental note to just ask later.

“This is your first time playing soccer, right?” Rin asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and you responded with a nod.

“Isn’t your brother going to play with us?’ You said, eyeing at the reddish-brown boy who was sitting at the bench at the distance.

“He says that he’s just gonna watch us play and to keep an eye on us,” Rin explained.

“Alright,”

You stood there awkwardly in the field, staring at the soccer ball like it was a math equation you didn’t intend on solving. You’ve seen a lot of soccer plays in Auntie Anri’s house whenever she watched TV but weren’t really interested in it.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention…

It wasn’t that you didn’t wanna play anymore but it was more that you didn’t know how. “What if I’m bad at this?” you asked worryingly.

“...then I’ll teach you,” Rin said, a bit more softer than usual, but you didn’t notice too focused on the ball at your feet.

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself. “I’m ready,”

“Took you long enough,” Rin spoke out, tossing the ball at your feet. You flinched trying to move away at first then realising you needed to stop it, it even barely stopped at time— your feet stumbling a bit.

“You’re supposed to control it, not run away from it,” he added, suppressing a laugh but it still slipped out.

Maybe you should’ve just stayed at home, but spending time with Rin is gonna make him want to be friends with you so you’re gonna endure it.

“Alright, first thing’s first” Rin said, taking it back and placing the ball in front of you. “Just try to pass it back to me.” he demonstrated, nudging the ball with a clean motion that sent it rolling back to him. “You know, like that,”

What…?

You stood there awkwardly. You needed directions, not just some vague demonstrations from him. Your brows furrowed looking at the ball that he just passed back to you, still trying to figure out what he meant.

“Can you do that again?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion.

“No,” he replied bluntly, “I already gave you clear directions,”

Yeah, clear as mud. You wanted to say out loud but held your tongue

You mimicked his motion, your foot grazing the ball gently. It didn’t go far, but it was clearly not smooth. It rolled a little, stirring off to the side.

“that sucked,” catching it with his foot effortlessly. “Try again, but with more power,” Rin replied.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Rin’s idea of “clear directions” was somehow different from yours, because nothing about this felt like it was making sense.

You should never let Rin teach you or other people things. He is way too fast, too impatient, and never lets you catch up and expects you to do it perfectly.

At first you were struggling to control the ball, your passes were too soft or veering off to the side. But somehow, despite Rin’s disastrous excuse for teaching, you managed to figure it out.

The ball started going where you wanted it to, your kicks were more smoother and more confident— though still far from perfection, but at least you were making progress.

Rim blinked as you sent a sharp pass back to him, “Are you sure you’ve never played before?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“If I had, I wouldn’t be here, being taught by you,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes back at him.

“Then let’s see if you can get the ball past me and score a goal,” Rin said, planting himself firmly in front of the goal. “Just try to kick anywhere but straight at me.”

You frowned, lining up your shot. With an exaggerated swing of your leg, you sent the ball rolling… directly into Rin’s shin. He winced, rubbing the spot.

Your hand was covering your mouth, shocked. You went over to see if he was alright, “—I’m fine, it wasn’t a bullet.” The younger Itoshi pushed your hand away gently. “But I said pass me, not through me,” he grumbled.

“Alright, let’s try again,” Rin spoke out, dusting his shin. Kicking the soccer ball back to you, you stopped it with the bottom of your foot instead of running away this time.

You charged forward, the ball still wobbling. Rin was right in front of you, his intense gaze locked into your movements, planting himself firmly.

You bit your lip, unsure what to do. You faked a kick to the side— though it was unintentional, more like you were off balance— and Rin stepped to block it. In your panic you accidently connected the ball, sending it in the opposite direction. The ball zipped past him and into the net.

There was a long silence between you too as you stared at the ball sitting steadily at the net.

“I scored?” you asked in disbelief, you were contemplating how you were able to do that.

Rin frowned looking at you, his brows furrowed. “That doesn’t count,” he said, though you could see the slightest tint of red in his cheeks.

“Nu-uh, it totally counts!” You retorted, throwing your arms in the air triumphantly.

“You didn’t even mean to do that,” Rin grumbled. He avoided your eyes, muttering in his breath.

You then picked up the ball and tilted your head, a teasing grin displayed on your face, “Aw, is Rin-chan mad I beat him in his own game?”

“We’re going home it’s late anyways,” he said curtly, he wasn’t wrong the sky was getting dark, time really did fly by. You looked at him again, already walking towards the bench where your bag and his brother was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, jogging to catch up with him, “don’t be such a sore loser! I’m a fast learner, you know.”

Rin stopped, glancing over shoulder with a glare that lacked its usual sharpness, “Next time, you’re not gonna get past me,” he said, but there was a small yet unmistakable smirk on his face.

“You’re actually smiling! Does that mean we’re friends now?” you said with a smug grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulder.

“As if,” he said, his tone more softer than usual, and he avoided your gaze.

When you made your way home, you couldn’t help but think about Rin’s older brother. He still hadn’t spoken a word to you, his cool and distant demeanor creating an air of mystery around him.

Despite his aloofness, it was clear how much influence he had over Rin. The younger Itoshi practically lit up when Sae was around, even if Rin would never admit it outright.

Once you arrived at your house, you and Rin went your separate ways. You practically sprinted through the door, eager to collapse on your bed and recover from all the physical activity. Your legs felt like jelly, and you couldn’t wait to unwind after such an eventful day.

But just as you kicked off your shoes and started to relax, a faint tug of memory nagged at you. Something felt off, like you were forgetting something important.

The answer came when your hand brushed against a familiar round object. You froze, staring down at the soccer ball still in your grasp. A groan escaped your lips as realization hit you—you’d accidentally taken their ball home with you.

With a resigned sigh, you slipped your shoes back on and headed to the Itoshi residence. The walk was short, but the weight of the ball in your hands felt like a constant reminder of your blunder.

Once you reached their doorstep, you stood on your tiptoes to reach the doorbell. A soft chime echoed through the house, and moments later, the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a woman with reddish-brown hair, her kind eyes softening as she looked down at you. “Hello, sweetheart,” she greeted warmly.

You straightened up, offering a polite smile. “Good evening, Mrs. Itoshi.”

Her expression brightened further. “Ah, Y/N, aren’t you the one Rin’s been spending so much time with? He’s been in such a good mood lately, and I have you to thank for that. You’re welcome here anytime,” she said, giving your head a gentle pat.

The sudden physical affection caught you off guard, and you froze slightly, unsure how to react. “Thank you, Mrs. Itoshi,” you managed, your voice small.

She smiled at your politeness but quickly added, “You should get along with Sae as well.” Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of encouragement in her words.

You congratulate yourself since you didn’t have to embarrassingly ask Rin what his brother’s name was even though you’ve seen him a bunch of times now.

“He’s been struggling with his English recently, and I heard from your mother that it’s your first language. Would you mind helping him out sometime?”

You hesitated, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden request, but you nodded. “Alright, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll try my best.”

Her relief was almost palpable. “Thank you, sweetie. You’re a lifesaver.”

You handed her the soccer ball, watching as she cradled it with care. “Rin must have forgotten this. I’ll make sure he gets it back.”

With a final pat on your head, she bid you goodnight, leaving you to head home once more.

As you walked back, your thoughts swirled. One Itoshi brother was already a challenge to befriend, but now you had to crack two tough shells? Double trouble was an understatement.

Still, you figured it wouldn’t be so bad. Rin admired Sae a lot, and getting along with him might even earn you some extra points with your stubborn friend.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, all you wanted to do was snuggle with Ms. Moe and enjoy some much-needed rest.

And as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, this day had turned out pretty great.

Taglist .𖥔 ݁ @danhoneyyysblog @nana7nana777 @levihanmyotp

[themoonlitsojourner]

"Yeah, you're a cutie, aren't you?"

Robin folded his arms. He leaned up against the doorway and tilted his head, peering into the next room.

Stretched out on the couch, one bandaged arm folded behind her head, the other stroking a slim, soft little rat resting on her chest. His half-closed eyes squeezed the rest of the way as Terra scritched under his chin. "Yeah, you're a good boy. Juuust like Remy. You even look like him."

Without much thought about it, Robin held his breath as he crept into the room. The floor creaked. Terra looked up.

"What?" She lifted an eyebrow.

Robin grinned back. "Nothing. You, uh..." He nodded to the rat.

"He was at this lab... Look, I couldn't just leave him there."

"No, no, I didn't think you should..." He sank to a seat on the other end of the couch. Terra poked his shoulder with her foot. Robin pushed it away and reached over her to touch the rat's head.

The little guy closed his eyes again.

"Batman let you have pets?"

"What? Oh." Robin tipped his head. "Uhh, not really. I wanted a dog at first. Eventually, I guess I stopped asking..."

Terra made a judgy sound, gingerly tapping the rat's paw.

"Oh, come on... It wasn't all bad. It wasn't bad," Robin corrected.

"Right."

"I'm serious."

"You've got Stockholm, or whatever."

Robin bit his tongue. "Right." The rest of the words slid down his throat, caught in his chest. Boiled there with everything else he'd had to swallow lately. A stew of bitter, nasty sour.

The rat wiggled his head, snuggling deeper into Terra's t-shirt. Her laugh, shattering the gray cloud above Robin's head, sudden and- and bubblegum pink.

...Wow. Huh. Kinda girly, not even close to what he would have expected from black band tees and beige cargo pants, dirty fingernails...

"Earth to Robin."

Robin blinked as the pillow bounced off his face. "What?"

"You, like, spaced out."

"...I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Right." She dropped both her feet into his lap. He moved his hands out of the way because it would be... weird to touch her. Right?

Robin cleared his throat and tilted his chin at the rat. "Can I have a turn?"

"Are you going to tell?"

He could have snorted. Spat on the floor. Rolled his eyes. Anything to show how crazy that idea was. He didn't. "No."

"Fine. Five minutes."

It ocurred to him, heart sinking as Terra placed the tiny rat in his hands with all the gentleness he'd never seen from her, that it didn't really matter if he told or not.

Sleak gray fur. Tiny pink-tipped ears. The rat curled right up against him, whiskers shimmying and nose working intently, even as his eyes closed.

...He wasn't going to make it through the week here. Was he?

...Batman would have let Robin keep him.

[thelittlespanielthatcould]

found a very cool park with a very cool dog

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[gojosprettyprincess]

SATORU'S FAVORITE TYPE OF DAY-STARTER!!

Morning sex, prone bone, creampie, degradation n praise. Not proofread

☼₊˚· ७

The morning ray of warm sunlight slowly filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow—gently filling the room. It was early in the morning but also timely enough for the sweet melodic chirps of the morning birds to be heard outside. You and your boyfriend Satoru had the day off from your sorcerer jobs so everything was so comforting and peaceful...

Except for the nasty, lewd sounds of your rippling ass slapping against his pelvis—indicating just how deep he was diving his cock into your slippery pussy with ease, drenching the white sheets below, where the two of you were connected.

He was straddling your thighs from behind as his passionate thrusts echoed throughout the room.

Each deep, rhythmic stroke caused waves of pleasure to cascade through every inch of your being. His snowy-white huffs of pubic hair brushing tenderly against your sensitive folds and swollen clit in a dance of ecstasy.

His hands gripping your waist firmly as he delved deeper into your warm, inviting core.

“Fuck you're such a horny little slut, Sweetheart. Didn't I already fucked you good last night? But that just wasn't enough, was it? Always desperate for some cock“ he snickers mockingly, as he taunts you with a smirk. Blindfolded eyes infatuated with the cadency of his flushed cock disappearing into your warm, plushy walls every other second, following the rhythm of his thrusts.

You whimpered pathetically to his degrading commentary, the sound of your distress from his bullying blending with the rustling of the sheets beneath you as you gripped it for dear life.

“Mmm, Satoru! soo gooddd, y-you’re soo d-eep fuck!” you cried out, feeling nothing but pleasure consuming you as drool steeps out of your mouth—damping the soft pillow beneath. His angry, mushroom head jabs your g-spot over and over making you arch your back uncontrollably. His thick cock already stretching your pussy open in the mere crack of dawn.

“Yeah? My cock making you feel good sweetheart?” he chuckles, playfully swatting your cheeks, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lets out a toothy grin watching how it bounces back against him when he sinks his swollen cock into you. “Shit—yesyesyes, Sat-toruuu rub my clit, please! Fuckk” you cried out, your urgent plea driving him wild as you grind your hips back into him hastily, your twitching little pussy tainting his cock with your runny slick as you see stars.

He grins, moving his fingers down to pinch and rub teasing circles on the sensitive bud, “Seriously? Your pussy is gonna cream on me already? What a filthy whore” he chuckles, heading falling back lazily as the sunlight illuminates his flawless skin. “Was expecting a little more than that but I know how fucking crazy this hungry pussy gets when I'm balls deep, stuffing it full”, he jests with a hint of satisfaction, his laughter echoing around you.

He pressed a hand firmly against your lower back, pressing it down—restricting all your movements as he readjusts the position. His tall figure now looming over you, both hands on each of your sides of your body, trapping you in as you moaned out like dumb slut. Each forceful thrust pushes his rigid length to the brink, feeling his cock ramming deeper and deeper inside your gushing cunt, to the point where his angry tip is nudging against your cervix—making your eyes roll back, one thing about Satoru was that he’s a literal beast when it comes to fucking you, he does it like his whole life depended on it.

You were on the verge of reaching climax and all it took was to hear your boyfriend’s hot, guttural moan—one that ignited your already frenzied lust, the loudest one since you two began fucking to have your greedy, stretched cunt to pulsate and spasm uncontrollably, releasing all over his pretty, flushed cock. Your moans melded with the fabric of the pillow as your fingers clenched the headboard in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself as you felt your cum dribbling out of your cunt and down your thighs—it was so messy.

“Ohhh fuck yeah, that’s it, baby, thattt’s it” he groans out with a smirk, feeling your sticky cream coating his length. His eyes dancing mischievously as he observed the wet patch forming on the pillow beneath your head from your drooling.

You cried out, eyes peering open as he kept fucking your soppy pussy.

Rings, and rings of glistening cum decorating the base of his cock sinfully. A loud whimper escaped your lips as you felt the relentless stimulation of your pussy used by him even after your orgasm. He laughs at your sudden reaction. “Aww sweetheart, you didn’t think you'll get to cum but I won’t, did you? Such a greedy whore, only thinking about yourself and this greedy, fucking pussy” he’s so amused by you, his bullying cock abusing your poor used cunt, his balls strucking your clit with vigor, making it so much more intense. “Oh, my—fuckk!” You hiccuped, feeling your soul levitating from your body as his eager cock molds your pussy to shape his cock.

“This pussy is so fucking good, God you’re so perfect” he smiles widely from the pure pleasure of your wet pussy, and a warm flutter settled in his stomach as you took his pounding. His rigged breath made you so dizzy as his thick veins dragged along the insides of your cunt. “You like me stuffing this pussy baby?, like getting your brains fucked out by my cock?” He babbles out, on the verge of losing his mind as he chases his release.

“Yes! Yes! Ohmygoddd” you screamed, both of your legs flailing behind you as he was drilling impossibly fucking deep inside of you, he was so loud, moaning just inches from your ears, making your pussy flutter over and over hearing your boyfriend making such lewd unabashed noises. One thing about Satoru was that he was never embarrassed or cared when it came to being vocal in bed—sometimes he’s even louder than you. You could feel the veins of his cock twitching against your walls as he fucks your cervix like a feral beast.

“Fuckohfuck!” his head falls back as he takes a deep breath. “Gon-na cum, fuck! Gonna creampie this little pussy and stuff it for with my seed” he bites his lip, thrusting himself into you relentlessly as his hips stuttered and abs flexed against you.

His jaw fell open in a silent scream while his eyes rolled back as he emptied his essence inside of you, groaning loudly, feeling your pussy sucking the warm cum greedily out of his shaft. His body collapses onto yours, making you mewl in pain as you adjust to his heavyweight. He wrapped both of his arms around your neck to lift your head up as he moved closer to your face—he lazily licked a stripe of your jawline as his eyes fluttered to stay open.

“Good morninggg, Beautiful” his deep voice mumbled to you with a fucked out smile.

[sunni-stuff]

P1 here.

Ghost walks through the door of your home as if he owns the place, tossing his keys onto the coffee table and shrugging off his gear by the door. He remembers your address by heart and recognizes the space he's walking through once again. 

Glancing around, he expected to see you greet him at the foyer only to be met with silence. Ghost passes by your couch, gloved fingers running against the back while his mind replays the sounds of your needy moans from when he fingered you on the cushions just weeks ago.

Ghost has had countless flings and meaningless one night stands, but never did he expect any of the doves he's played with to actively call for more. 

Though he wasn't complaining.

A creaking floorboard causes his head to snap towards the stairs. There, he sees you cautiously descending, the sides of your nightgown clutched anxiously in your palms. “I didn't think you'd actually show.” 

Simon stares at you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in every dip and curve visible through the lacey material. He lets out a heavy breath, fist clenched in deep restraint as he thanked every single god above for what's standing in front of him. “How can I ignore a civilian in need?”

Your laugh makes him still, the mirthful chuckle and the smile on your lips making the tent in his pants ache painfully.

Did you know what you were doing to him? How just your chuckles alone stirred something profound?

“So… upstairs or on the couch?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“You wanted me here, love. Dealers' choice.” Simon watches you fumble, fingers thumbing over the lacing decorating the bottom of your nightgown.

“Upstairs then.”

For Simon, everything seems to happen in blurs. Just moments ago he was standing by the stairs and the next he's in between your legs, one large hand splayed over your stomach having you lay back motioning for you to relax as he eats you out like a man starved.

He doesn't remember how he got here; all that matters now is the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Simon laps at your glossy lips, tongue gliding your sensitive folds to your clit, making sure to give both his undivided attention. He needed no words to know he was doing a good job; your knees attempting to lock behind his head was added confirmation if your whines for more weren't enough.

“Can't you just put it in?” You huff in between moans, attempting to sit up on your elbows despite his efforts to keep you down.

“Shhh…” Simon coos, pressing a fleeting kiss on your pearl before pulling away his chin and lips shining your slick. “Look at that, practically begging for me.” A thick digit runs down your slit, gathering a pool of wetness and licking it off his fingers. 

Simon gazes at your cunt, observing how just his lips hovering near causes your weeping hole to clench around nothing. He could watch this all day. Watch how badly you needed him. How only he had the privilege to hear you beg.

“Alright, fussy bird,” He stands up straight, his shadow completely consuming you, the stark differences between you two are evident. Simon is not a small man in the slightest. Everything about him screams large. His presence commands attention, from his muscular arms down to his sturdy thighs.

Simon grabs ahold of your waist, pulling you against his bulge, slowly grinding his hips up and down, teasing you along the rough fabric of his jeans. He shows a little restraint, purposely holding back in hopes of hearing more pleas. “Come on, love, tell me what you need.”

This is what you dreamed of. His hands, his voice, his lips against your skin, a true dream come true. The final stretch was so close, so near and yet he still kept you tethered to the edge. “Please, I need it,” You mewl desperately, hips bucking for more friction.

Simon chuckles lightly, watching as you practically bounce in anticipation. "Someone's in a hurry," he jokes, despite his growing ardor matching your own.

With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until he's bare to you. His eyes bore into yours as he did so, a silent question in them. His large cock sprang free, bobbing up against his stomach in time with his rapid heartbeat. 

The sight of his length, standing proud and erect, was enough to intensify the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you'd be full once again, getting to feel that cock of his in places no one else can reach. You nod all too eagerly, laying back to fully embrace everything.

With a swift lift of your hips, Simon nudges the edge of himself against you, drawing a ragged groan as he feels the wet heat of your waiting entrance. One hand grabbing his length, he slowly guided his throbbing cock against your slick folds. The head of his erection teased your entrance for a moment, before he pressed forward, burying himself inside you. “Fuck, fuck, more, please.” 

Simon can't help but smirk at your eagerness, patting your thigh appreciatively. “Can't rush things, dove. Don't want you breaking.” It's a slow push, his cock stretching your welcoming heat inch by inch. As he bottomed out, he let out a throaty groan, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.

You cum in that exact moment, your pussy squeezing tightly around him and milking his cock. It feels like a faucet that won't stop dripping, coating his length with your sweet juices. For a brief moment you're dazed, head swimming and unable to hear anything over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, admiring the sight of you breathless. You feel like velvet, your pussy a vice he wasn’t sure he’d be able to quit. His thumb pushes against your clit and you whine, your voice high-pitched.

“Sensitive, please,” you beg, squirming until his hands force your hips down. Your lips are forced into an o shape, a silent scream forced from your chest when he does the exact opposite.

You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or begging for more–it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life.

“Stay with me dove, stay with me,” Simon sneers, something depraved and feral in his voice. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Once the initial shock of cumming has passed, he begins to move inside you, setting a slow, deliberate pace. With every thrust, he claimed more of you, your bodies moving together in synchronicity. The scent of your sex mingled in the confined space of your bedroom, intensifying the intimate atmosphere.

Simon closes his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. Everything about this is mesmerizing. He'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

A hitched moan has him opening his eyes, his gaze boring into yours, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure that passes through you. Thank you, god, Simon thinks. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, but he held on, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as possible. He wanted to give you everything and more.

“Feel like heaven,” he breathes. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted me nice and deep huh?”

His palm presses on your stomach where his cock bulges the skin, his grin wicked. “Poor girl, can’t make herself cum so she had to call me, yeah?”

You nod, a symphony of yes yes yes escaping you as Simon bears down upon you, the bed rocking with each movement.

“Had to call me because you know no one can fuck you like I can,” he says, “say it for me, c’mon.”

You hiccup through every word. “N-No one can fuck me—oh god—like you Si’—”

Your words make his ego grow, muttering of that's fuckin’ right streaming from his lips as he comes, the feeling sending your nerves on overdrive. 

As he felt you tightening around him, he knew you were close—as close as he was. His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm with his.

Your pleasure peaked simultaneously, his cum filling you as you cum around him, walls clenching and rippling along his length in your aftershock. After a moment, he pulls out carefully, the room filled with your heavy breathing. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply staring back at each other through lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. Simon starts his retreat, stepping back to make distance and pulling up his pants. Your hand on his makes him pause. He raises a brow, confused by your actions. He opens his mouth but you're quicker.

“We aren't done.”

-

The original prompt was supposed to be a little thing; but so many people liked it, so here <3! This most likely won't be a series.

Taglist (ppl who commented): @pheebslu @amaraabbz @crestapex @tsarinamariya @kittykatgorl @havoc973 @gg-trini @coyotebayou @delta98-idk @thincess-reup @my-bright-legacy @jaxz21 @readersandtumblers

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to help Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

[webism]

ino takuma + accidental 'i love you' during sex

"I love you."

Ino's on his back, face screwed up in some strange mixture between embarrassment and complete bliss. You didn't expect those three words from his lips. His cheeks are red, eyes are glossy—he looks fucking perfect, and the way you smile down at him makes his cock twitch inside of you.

"You don't mean that," you lean down to press a kiss to the corner of his parted lips. He exhales against your mouth, breath hot and ragged and needy and smelling like the five mints he downed before seeing you.

"I didn't," Ino moans when you roll your hips down on him, taking his cock just that little bit deeper inside of you. "Not like that... I didn't mean to say it, but I did mean it. I think."

You blink at him. He's a mess, rambling on like this. If you were half-decent you'd save him the stress and tell him you know what he means, that it's okay and just to enjoy the moment. But you aren't, and the flush on Takuma's cheeks is driving you a little bit loopy with lust.

"What's that supposed to mean, baby? You tell all your trysts you love them when you're bout to empty your balls inside of them?"

"No—!" Ino panics, though his eyes soften when he sees the teasing look on your face. He bucks his hips up a little, pushes into you, then pulls out a little just to snap up again. "I mean... I wasn't meaning to say it but ah— I meant it. The words. I love you."

You still for a moment, study your sweet Ino's face for a hint of anything other than the truth. You don't find it, though. Behind those pretty lashes and lust-glazed eyes is only the raw truth. He loves you.

"You're sweet," you coo, speeding up your ministrations. Hands splayed over his bare chest, you start to bounce on his cock as if he were the toy to be played with. "Say it again."

"I love you," is his immediate response. No hesitation, no embarrassment, nothing but honesty. "I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIlove—"

"I love you too, so much, love yo—"

You're cut off by the loudest moan you've ever heard ripping from Ino's chest. His hips buck up so harshly that you're nearly thrown off balance as he cums so hard he sees stars. His lips are parted, a few tears rolling down his pretty cheeks—which you lean down to kiss away as he catches his breath—and you realise you've never been so full. Is it possible that three little words could double the mans load?

Absolutely it is.

[poguehearted77]

Just Another Cliché

Summary: Rafe has been asking to take you out for years and you always shoot him down, but after a particularly bad day, you decide things can't get much worse.

<<Here's some fluffy angst for those who need it>>

Shitty was an understatement for the day you had. This day will go down in history as the worst day any soul has ever lived through.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The murmur is bitter on your tongue as you stuff your hands deeper into your warm pockets. The breath of your words were visible in the crisp winter air as you were about to pass by Rafe Cameron who waited patiently outside of your apartment building with a single rose just like he always did.

Since your senior year of high school, every year on the fourteenth of February, he would wait outside your complex, asking you out, then you say no, then he goes home. That's the tradition.

Well, technically you never said no. You'd always make up some excuse. 'I don't have time for a relationship right now' or 'Now's a bad time' are just a few of the examples you've used over the last five years.

It's not that there was anything wrong with him. You actually did find him attractive. Aside from the sketchy reputation he had going for him back in high school, he was still a relatively nice guy.

You just didn't have the time for a relationship, or at least you didn't before.

A small smile forms on his face as he sees you, already knowing what to expect. Another excuse like "Fine," yup, just as he thought- Wait.

"Say that again?" His head shakes in disbelief, blue eyes bulging slightly. Your shoulders shrug under your heavy-duty winter jacket. "My car was towed, then I lost my job, so why not lose my dignity too? Let's go out." You say and his heart begins to bounce off the confines of his ribs.

Not sure if it was the frosty air nipping at his cheeks or his lifetime wish finally unwrapping before his eyes, his cheeks flushed and he blinked a few times. "You won't regret this, I promise." he holds out the rose for you to take, and you finally do. For the first time in five years. You bite back a scoff, not in the mood for empty promises.

"Why haven't you given up yet?" You ask and now he places his hands in his pockets as a chilling breeze sweeps past you. He's rocking back on his heels slightly, "Life's too short to give up." The tiny smile on his face does make you scoff this time but he moves past it, "I'll text you later," is the last thing he says before he walks off.

You look down at the rose, then at his shrinking figure as he heads for the distance. A little pep in his step and you shook your head, immediately regretting your decision.

Great, this is exactly what you needed, another cliché.

-

Just another cliché is exactly what it was. On the lowest day of your life, you finally gave Rafe a chance. Of course, he changes your life in ways you couldn't imagine and leaves you with a dead weight of regret for not giving in sooner.

Your first date wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was fun. The two of you were inexperienced skaters failing to skate in the middle of the town square during the heart of winter. With festive lights outlining the rink where you laughed every time one of you fell.

There was even a point in time when you'd both embraced the cold connection with the ice floor and had a deep conversation on the sidelines, watching the other skaters circle the rink.

"Why me?" The question slips out before you can catch it and he licks his lips. He anticipated the query would arise eventually. "You remember that party Hailey Vanderbilt threw back in senior year?"

You hum with a nod, that was a party you'll never forget. Pool toys ended up in the trees, broken windows, jello in the hot tub, fights in the front yard and gambling in the back. "You and a few of the girls were playing truth or dare and they had dared you to start a rumour that I'd shaved my head because my family had joined some cult or some shit."

It took you a second, but the memory came back to you. "You don't know this, but I was fucking wasted behind the couch, but I'll never forget the way you stood up for me to them and refused to do it, and I dunno, I jus' think that was really cool of you." His head turns to you, his gaze softening when he looks at you.

At that moment, you felt the butterflies flap around in your stomach for the first time. He clears his throat, expression becoming more sombre as he continues. "My mom," He starts, taking a difficult swallow to get the words out.

"She was really sick. I got caught up with the wrong crowd to deal with it. Doing anything people said would get me distracted, even for a little, but she got worse and me being high every day didn't help so I quit. Her chemo was taking everything from her and eventually, she just shaved it off, she hated looking in the mirror and it killed me."

Your chest tightened at the story, having a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, "So when you shaved your head..." You trail off and Rafe nods along, turning away from you as a stray tear falls. "It was for her. You sticking up for me meant so much more than you know."

So there you both sat, on the ice with your backs against the wall in silence while the faint Christmas music chimed in the background. The date had taken a sad turn but you're glad it did, it sparked the beginning of your forever-evolving bond.

That was only the first date of many. Dozens and dozens of dates had flown past you and with each one you hated yourself a little more for letting him stand outside of your complex for five years rather than invite him inside.

"This is a nice place." He compliments as he takes a look around before settling himself on the couch with you beside him. "Thanks, it used to be a lot nicer when I could afford it. Had to sell some stuff to keep it after I lost my job."

He chuckles, "That explains why we're facing a blank wall and no television." and you pinch him. "Sacrifices had to be made. Who needs a TV anyways when there's so many other things we could do to keep ourselves busy." Your wandering hand gently runs down his firm thigh and you can feel the muscles in his leg tighten.

This was unchartered territory for you. You'd been dating for almost three months now and have never been intimate in that way, but Rafe knew the kind of person you were. A perfectionist, you need to be sure of everything before you try it.

Based on how fervently you were currently kissing along the length of his neck he could assume he had a pretty good idea of where your head was at. "Baby, baby--" He struggles to keep you at bay so he can lock eyes with you. "Are you sure about this? We don't have-" You silence him with the passionate attack of your lips against his.

Nearly tackling him onto his back, your hips straddling his as you demonstrated your certainty to him.

-

The months went on and sleepovers became more frequent. Even when Rafe had that tired look in his eye which was more often these days, you kept him up with your bright eyes and wide smile as you explained to him the newest conspiracy that intrigued you.

He tried his best to listen to what you were saying but he'd often lose himself in the labyrinth of his own mind. You were just so cute when you were talking about what you were passionate about. Especially when you wore the glasses you cursed so much, opting for contacts during the day.

"Why don't you wear your glasses more often?" He asks and you frown, "Rafee, did you hear anything I just said?" He nods, "Of course I did. I heard every last word.... up until about five minutes ago." You whine and he hugs you tight as an apology, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You couldn't stay mad at him. That was proven time and time again when even your biggest fights would be resolved within 24 hours. Rafe insisted on talking things out, no matter how hurt the both of you may feel. He never wanted to go to sleep without making things right. "Life's too short," He would say.

You both had your shortcomings, but that goes without saying. Rafe was short-tempered and you were stubborn, a bad combination for an opinionated conversation. Things can quickly spiral out of control but when it came to apologies, Rafe outdid you every time. Flowers, or a small gift to show his feelings.

Even now, as Rafe leant against your kitchen island as you transferred the flowers he'd gifted you 'just because'. A weak smile graced his lips as he noted the way you did everything with such intensity, putting your all into everything you did.

Leaning forward onto his crossed forearms he watches you. "You're staring, babe." You say and he can only hum. "Can't help it. I like what I see," His words elicit a soft warmth to radiate in your chest.

"I love you, y'know that?" You're startled as you feel his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. "You tell me only every day, Rafe." He comes down to peck your cheek before you're rotating in his hold to face him. "But I love you too." You're unable to contain your smile as you say it.

It wasn't the first time but every time the words left your mouth, it gave you a little bubbly feeling. Security blossomed within you anytime your eyes grazed over his features.

"Let's go out tonight, yeah? Let's go dancing." Rafe declares without thinking and you laugh, tilting your head to look at the time over the stove. "It's almost midnight, nothing's open at this hour." You reason, but he doesn't back down.

Holding you by the hand, he twirls you. "Not a problem, we'll just do it here." That night your apartment was filled with laughter and soft jazz. Rafe hardly ever had this much energy so late but you loved it.

Two days after that night of dancing, you woke up to an eerie silence that felt too heavy for the morning. You went about your routine, still buoyed by the memory of Rafe's laughter filling your apartment. You checked your phone—just the usual notifications, a missed call from an unknown number, and a message from Sarah that simply said, "Call me."

You barely had time to press dial before she picked up, her voice trembling. She tried to speak, but only the sound of soft, choked sobs came through. Finally, she managed, "I’m so sorry…"

The words hit you, but you didn’t understand them. You wanted her to stop, to say something else—anything else. She kept speaking, her words blurred and distant, as though you were underwater, drowning. Somewhere in her explanation, you heard the words, "peacefully… in his sleep." But it didn’t feel peaceful. Your mind raced, demanding answers. Why hadn’t he told you? How long had he known?

Over the days that followed, Rafe's family gently filled in the pieces: he’d been sick for years, silently enduring, doing everything he could to hide it. Every date, every moment spent laughing with you, was a deliberate choice he made to live his last days fully, in love and joy, with you.

He hadn’t wanted you to know because he couldn't bear to see you suffer for him the same way he was once familiar with in his senior year. Even in the end, he kept the truth locked away, shielding you from the loss he knew was coming.

The weight of his choice tore you apart. You wanted to be angry, to hate him for leaving you out, but in his silence, there was also a strange kind of love. A love that had given you a few precious, unburdened moments together. Still, the pain settled deep within you, refusing to ease.

The anger, hurt, and ache became constant companions in the days that followed. But in his absence, you began to understand just how much he’d given for you.

He'd shared with you how hard it was for him to deal with that eerie state of loss. The stage where the person isn't gone but you know you'll lose them. It alters you in a messed up kind of way and he wanted you as far from that reality as possible. He was protecting you from his own condition till the very end.

Helping his family to clear out his apartment was easily the hardest thing you'd ever done. You couldn't do it without tearing up with every belonging of his you touched.

His favourite hoodie that he never let you wear but loved when you did. The polaroids in his drawer that you took from your first date, taken from the floor of the ice rink.

You noticed he'd scribbled writing on the back of the photo.

She finally said yes.

That was all it took. The last bits of your composure were stolen from you and you wept on his bedroom floor. Everyone always told you it would get easier but it never did. How could things get easier when the other half of your heart was buried six feet below the ground?

You learned to live with the loss, forcing a smile when in the company of others and taking deep breaths every morning when you woke up. Mildly disappointed the realm beyond the living hadn't reaped you during your slumber.

Very slowly, you begin to adjust to this new reality. It’s not the life you imagined, but you learn to live with the loss, carrying him with you in the smallest, most tender ways. His favourite hoodie becomes your comfort on cold nights, wrapping you in his memory and his scent.

Just because he was gone doesn't mean you'd end all of your traditions. Each year on the fourteenth of February, you visit his grave, placing a single red rose on the stone as a quiet tribute.

Though the ache remains, you hold his spirit close, carrying him forward into every milestone and memory yet to come, honouring the love you shared while finding the strength to continue onward.

In some ways, your love story turned out to be just another cliché—until it ripped your heart out from your chest, leaving you with the unbearable ache of everything he left unsaid, every unfulfilled promise, and the haunting silence of a future that will always belong to him.

Somehow, even in the quietest, most heart-wrenching moments, you never gave up on finding the silver lining, because life’s too short.

[ebodebo]

Hot For Teacher!

—professor!simon riley teaching anatomy… MDNI

(DISCLAIMER: in this fic, the reader is getting their master's, so reader is an adult! that said, this is still a student-professor relationship, so beware!)

"I heard he was from Germany….or somewhere."

"He's probably sooo old."

"I can't find his rate my professor anywhere!"

"I heard he only has one leg!"

Murmurs can be heard spread around the room; your fellow graduates flooded the lecture hall seats, not an empty seat out of fifty in site. They were itching with anticipation and anxiously awaiting the arrival of your new gross anatomy professor, including yourself.

You were even more nervous than when you had to present your senior thesis for your bachelor's to four of the most knowledgeable, bright minds you had ever come into contact with.

That was intimidating, but this somehow feels worse. You find yourself sinking into the squeaky plastic chair, praying that whoever walks through that door is as gracious and kind as your last professor.

Heavy steps echoed down the hallway, slowly and steadily etching closer and closer to the room you sat in. Your eyes nervously shifted up to look at the wide open front door, and you tapped your foot, restlessly, to a non-existent beat in your head.

The footsteps became louder and louder until the man finally stood in the doorway, sparing the class not even a singular glance. He steadily turned to the right and walked up to the chalkboard, back towards the class, carefully etching something onto the board with a small piece of chalk.

The murmurs around the room seized as the screeching noise of the chalk against the board bounced off the walls and went straight into everyone's eardrums.

It was a quick, illegible scribble.

He set the piece of chalk down and turned to face the class, eyes roaming around the room, allowing you to get a better look at him.

He wore a black surgical mask just below his nose, covering his lips and jaw. And, God, was he tall. He had to be at least six-two, maybe even six-four. He wore a charcoal gray button-up tight enough to display his broad shoulders and buff biceps, with kaki cargo pants that did nothing to hide his thick thighs. 

Fuck, he was hot.

"Your last professor was quite lenient," his gravelly voice echoes around the room as he begins, leaning his hip on the table before him. "Don't expect that from me."

His eyes roamed some more, and the murmurs you heard about how hot he was seized as he spoke again. "If you think this class will be easy, you're sorely mistaken. Excellence is the bare minimum I expect from each of you," he sternly says. "I don't tolerate excuses. You're in the wrong place if you can't meet the deadlines."

You didn't know the first time meeting your professor would just end up with him lecturing you about his obscure conditions and rules like this was a damn military base.

You try to remember if this course was even required for your degree: it is.

"If you miss class, don't bother returning," he continues. The mood in the room had shifted entirely. There was no excitement left; it had been completely sucked out and replaced by regret and anguish. You swore you even saw some people with their computers quickly going to your university's directory, hoping they could still withdraw from a course.

"Lastly, mediocrity has no place in here. Push yourselves or find another course," he gruffed, pushing himself off the desk he leaned on and maneuvering back over to the chalkboard.

"What are the instructions on the board?" Your eyes snapped to a random girl raising her hand adjacent to you, and you were surprised by her bravery in speaking.

The professor glanced at the girl.

“Ah, yes. These are instructions on how to withdraw from this course if you so choose," he said. "Save me the headache and you, your dignity, and withdraw now if you cannot abide by my terms," he almost seemed disinterested. "Also, you will call me Dr. Riley."

He picked up the chalk, quickly etching a strand of words onto it. "These are my office hours," he says, setting the chalk back down. "Any questions?" He asked, turning to face the class.

Not a single peep can be heard. There was only a tiny squeak from one of the chairs. He crosses his arms. "Alright. Quiz tomorrow. Class dismissed," he concludes. You freeze up in your chair as everyone around you starts moving as quickly as possible to get out of there.

You're wondering what you learned today that could be material for a quiz. Instead of waiting behind to ask, you shuffle your things in a bag and speed walk out of there.

This was going to be a long semester.

It was three months in, and this class was kicking your ass. 

No, that's not right. The class was outwardly blistering your entire existence. You pulled countless all-nighters to try and keep up with the material, but it was too much. There weren't enough hours in the day to study the copious amount of material.

It didn't help that Dr. Riley was a bit of a dick. He gave no leniency. Can't make the exam? Too bad. F. Didn't make class? Yikes. Get ready to recite the last lecture in front of the class when you return! Can't answer a question he asks? Well, well, it looks like we have a slacker on our hands. Have a lovely time writing an entire essay on the topic question you failed to answer!

"Can anyone explain the process of bone repair following a fracture?" Dr. Riley questions, taking his eyes off the chalkboard and turning towards the now half-full class. You snap out of your daydream, carefully looking back to your computer to continue typing what he writes.

Everyone averts their eyes from him to avoid getting called on. "No takers?" He asks once more, eyes narrowing slightly. You look over the top of your computer, eyes wondering over the messy array of notes he wrote to try and decipher them. "You," he says, flicking a finger towards you. "Give it a go."

Your eyes flick to his before widening in horror. Shit. You hadn't even gone over this week's slides because you were still working on the hundreds of slides from last week. 

"Preferably today," he raises a brow, impatience written all over his face, crossing his arm over his chest. You take a deep breath, quickly scan your notes, and sublimely thank God you found what you needed.

"Well, first the bone goes through clot formation, then callus formation, then new bone tissue forms, then finally the bone remodels," you explain, issuing a polite smile after you finish, breathing out a sigh of relief as he nods.

"Uh-huh. It's a very interesting process. And do you know which of those processes has the longest duration?" He says blandly. You tilt your head a little, surprised to see he has another question.

"Well, I think that would be the bone remodeling," you affirm, shifting in your seat a little.

"And the shortest?" He quickly supplements. 

"Clot formation?" You say unsurely. 

"You seem unsure of your answer. Do you truly think it is clot formation?" He crosses his arms over his chest. 

You were sure of it, but then again, why would he ask you if you thought it was wrong if it was right? You open your eyes wider, almost like you have just had an epiphany. "I—no. It's callus formation," you say matter-of-factly.

"Incorrect," he says, uncrossing his arms and turning his back to you. "I suggest trusting your instincts next time." You sink deeper into your chair, hoping that somehow it will shield you from his scrutiny. 

"On that note, class dismissed." You quickly gather your belongings, but not before Dr. Riley pulls you aside to assign you a three-page, single-spaced essay about the formation of a bone after having a fracture due in two days.

"Also, be sure to discuss clot formation heavily," his voice carries a condescending tone. "So that when you present to the class, they understand the concept better than you did." 

Your brows furrow a little. "Wait, I do understand—" You begin, though he interrupts.

"That's all," he cooly says, turning to grab his things from the desk in the front before switching the light switch off and stepping around you to leave the room. "See you and your paper Wednesday." You scowled as he turned away from you to go to his office.

This was such bullshit. You answered all his question, but God forbid you answer one incorrectly—well, not even incorrectly; he just made you feel it was wrong.

This was far from over.

"Dr. Riley. I, um, I don't understand why I have to write an essay," you found yourself saying later that day in his office, around six p.m. or so, when most of the faculty had already called it a night and left. His eyes stayed laser-focused on some papers he was going over.

"You didn't answer my question," he says, scribbling something on the paper. 

You find yourself coming in, shutting the door behind you, and sitting on the chair before his desk. "Yes, I did. I answered all one hundred of them," you say matter-of-factly. The corners of his eyes crinkle as they finally flick to yours, clearly amused by your exaggeration. 

"One hundred, huh?" He sets the pen down, leaning back in his chair, threading his fingers together. Your eyes wander to his arms. He had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his veiny forearms covered in tattoos. 

You flick your eyes back to eyes in a panic, praying he didn't notice you essentially checking him out. "Yes, sir," you tried to keep your voice even.

"So, you want out of an essay I assigned to you? 

"I—well. I was hoping…" You trail off, eyes averting his.

"No," his tone is authoritative, final. You release a small breath, sagging into the chair, feeling defeated. However, you caught your eyes wandering back to his forearms before moving up to his biceps. Fuck. They would have busted out of his button-down if they were any bigger.

He was a massive asshole. But, so fucking hot nonetheless. Had the most enormous thighs and arms you'd ever seen. Taller than anyone you'd ever met. Had a gruff, thick English accent you drooled over. Not to mention his raging ego, which did something for you.

"What is it?" Your eyes snap to his. Oh, God. Not again. 

"Nothing," you said quickly. He looked puzzled. You sat back in the chair, smiling awkwardly. He followed, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs wider to get more comfortable.

You find your eyes drifting down, observing his clothed cock in his pants. "Nothing? Huh?" The corner of his lip quirks. You stare back at him; your face is hot, and your hands are clammy.

This time, there was no denying what it was you were ogling so intently. 

"Listen," he sits up a bit, placing his elbows on his desk and threading his fingers together. "I sympathize with your situation." You raise a brow because there is no way in hell he was sympathetic. His lip quips at your expression. "So, I believe I have a solution to your dilemma." That has you perking up in your seat, feeling a sense of hope.

"It's a bit...unorthodox," he mumbles, eyes boring into yours.

You squint your eyes in confusion. "Okay..." You trail off uneasily, sitting up a little straighter. "What did you have in mind?" He tilts his head up a little, carefully observing your face, before standing up and gripping the knot of the tie and carefully pulling it down so it rests lazily on his sternum. 

"Tell me," he prompts, easing his way around his desk to lean against the side you sit in front of. "What is it that caught your attention earlier?" You raise a brow, not only at his new position but also at his question.

"Pardon?" You prod. He lets out a small, scruffy, breathy laugh, crossing his arms over his chest and showcasing his huge biceps again. You release a slight breath as your eyes wander back to his arms. He tilts his head back as he examines your facial expression, dragging his eyes down your line of sight. He gives a breathy laugh as he realizes you are shamelessly checking him out. 

"Mhm," he hums. You snap your eyes to him in an instant, though this time you aren't embarrassed at the notion of him catching you. No. You wanted him to notice. Maybe, just maybe, then he'd finally find the courage to fuck you over his desk like you'd wanted since the first day he had arrived. "Your mind seems elsewhere," he observes.

"No, I'm—I'm just thinking," you whir, sitting in your chair.

He tilts his head back slightly. "What about?" His tone dripped with condescendence. He most definitely knew. He could read you like one of those fancy anatomy books he frequented. You lean back in your chair, legs spreading ever so slightly. His eyes glided to leer at your slightly agape legs. 

God, you had on that little fucking skirt you wore every so often. The damned thing was a couple of pieces of denim fabric. Not too short, but, ya, if you opened your legs at just the right angle, you could get a nice shot of your panties underneath. How lucky for your professor, who was at the receiving end of that.

"Oh, I don't know. Just things, you know?" You spread your legs just a little wider, and you swear you hear him release a breath. "It's the first day of fall tomorrow. Did you know that?" You casually say, spreading your legs that much further so he could get a better view of the wet spot already growing in your panties at him watching you. 

"I did." His voice was dry; he was surprised to get a damn word out. 

"Crazy, huh? Also, I'm thinking about our lecture tomorrow. What's it going to be on anyway?" You find yourself dragging your hand up your leg to the buttons of your shirt, carefully unclasping each of them gently. He could feel his cock straining against his jeans seeing you, legs spread, fingers fiddling with your cute little button-up top with frilly sleeves.

"Sexual reproduction," he gruffs, fingers moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. You get the final button of your shirt unclasped, carefully sliding it off and onto the floor, revealing a lacy bra that matches your panties. You honestly thought you'd be more nervous, but with a guy that hot and educated staring at you like you were the sexiest thing alive, how could you be?

"Maybe I should get a head-start, no?" You proposed as he unclasped his final button, slipping his shirt entirely off. Good-God. The man was chiseled and hairy. The scars etched into his skin only made him that much sexier. He reached for his tie next. "No, no. Leave it on," you voice, getting up from your chair to stand before him. 

His greedy hands instantly sought refuge on your waist, dragging his fingertips along the waistband of your panties, giving them a little pull. You release a slight whine as the elastic slaps back onto your skin.

"Like fuckin' music to my ears," he groans, pulling you flush to his body, ripping his mask off to encapsulate your lips with his hungry ones. 

You yelp into his mouth at the sudden sensation, though you find yourself getting into a rough rhythm. His hand's paw at your ass as yours covetously grips his shoulders. Although you were flush against him, you sought more contact. "I need—I need," you whined in his mouth. 

"Need me to what? Say it," he urged, hands slipping to thread through your hair, pulling it gently. Your mouth falls agape at the action, allowing him to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan into his mouth once more.

"I need you to—to," you stutter, unable to speak from how out of breathe you were.

"Say it," he hissed, pulling your hair harder.

"Fuck me. Please," you finally managed to say. He wasted no time picking you up by the back of the thighs and hastily placing you on his desk, flinging the loose papers and books that dawned it on the floor.

You reached between you to undo his belt and pant button as he slipped your panties down so they dangled loosely around your ankles. 

Your lips never disconnecting once. 

Once you got his pants undown and he your panties, he gripped your waist, hoisting you so he could pound his cock into you. You both moan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck," he groans, "Feel so good." You press your lips back to his as he makes work pummeling into you, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips to get as much friction as he can.

You were sure you'd have purple and blue bruises tomorrow.

He brings his mouth to nip and kiss at the side of your neck, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin. "Drivin' me fuckin' insane," he grits, teeth nipping your skin again. You whined, bringing your hands to thread through his hair.

"I drive you insane?" You breathe out, dumbfounded, his cock still sliding in and out of you at a hurried pace. His tongue brushes your neck until it reaches your lips, quickly bullying itself into the sanctity of your mouth.

"Such a good student. Aren't you?" He gruffs into your lips; your mouth hangs agape at the feeling of him in you. "Always do such good work. Don't you, sweetheart?" You moan at his words; he presses a thumb to stimulate your clit. "Fuck—you, you drive me mad," he grits, moving his thumb faster.

You let a string of incoherent words, too caught up with his cock in you and thumb on you to form any real words.

"Huh? Ya, ya. But you must know that already. Or else you wouldn't have worn this—" he signals to the matching bra and panty set you had worn, "to meet with me," he finishes. You respond with another pathetic whimper, feeling your impending climax.

The moment he whispers into the shell of your ear, "Better come quick, or I may change my mind about that paper," you're a goner. You clamp around him at record speed, gripping his shoulders impossibly tighter, as you loudly moan in his mouth. His fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips as his orgasm chases yours.

It takes both of you a second to catch your breaths, both heaving and chests rising with much pace. After you have caught your breath, he helps ease you off his desk, deftly reaching for your panties that slipped off your ankles in a frenzy and softly putting them back on you, followed by your skirt resting on the floor nearby.

You slipped your shirt back on, buttoning it as he focused on dressing himself. It didn't feel awkward like you had thought it was going to. Sure, it was quiet, but it was comforting.

You grabbed your bookbag, giving him a slight smile as you walked over to the closed door. "I appreciate you meeting with me. See you tomorrow, Dr. Riley," you kindly say.

He nodded, pulling his tie to rest neatly on his neck. "Don't forget about the paper," he plainly said, moving to pick up some of the loose papers on the floor.

A confused expression overtook your face. "I thought—" you began.

"I don't play favorites, sweetheart," he interrupted. "Write the paper."

Okay, he was still a dick, but oh well, sure, you'd write the damn paper, maybe even put a couple of errors in it so that he could deduct some points off, and you could request to meet with him again.

Ya, that sounded like a fine plan indeed.

a/n: inspired by a lovely who commented on my poll about professor!simon <33 @aiqsa (this took me so long omg)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!