Professor

[misheard]

Title: Professor
Fandom: Fate/Grand Order
Character(s): Moriarty, Ritsuka
Pairing(s): Moriarty/Ritsuka
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 510
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: In Moriarty's defense, it was Ritsuka's idea.
Notes:

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In Moriarty's defense, it was Ritsuka's idea.

He swears up and down that he never abused his power as a professor in that way. (That none of his students were interesting enough for him to bother, he leaves unsaid. It's better if people assume it was for ethical reasons.)

But Ritsuka had turned up in his room wearing the Atlas Academy uniform (with the cute glasses, and the short skirt, and the stockings that leave a tantalizing strip of skin exposed) and asked, ever so sweetly, if they could try something different tonight.

"Professor," she says, smoothing out her skirt. "You wanted to see me?"

"Miss Fujimura." Moriarty sits at his desk. 'Mild-mannered professor' is a role he plays like any other, and he slips seamlessly back into it even after all this time. "Are you aware that you're failing my class?"

Ritsuka gasps in mock horror. "But I worked so hard! Please, sir, isn't there some way I can raise my grade? I'll do anything!"

He pretends to think about it. "Hmm, well…"

"Anything," she repeats, tracing a finger lightly up his arm.

"-I'm sure I could come up with an extra assignment for you, my girl."

She grins, and immediately plops herself into his lap. None of the uniforms at his school were ever this short, he thinks idly, before Ritsuka kisses him to distraction.

She's as warm and soft in his arms as ever. Even straddling him, she has to stretch to loop her arms behind his neck. That the motion presses her breasts against his chest is almost certainly deliberate.

"Professor…" Her teeth worry at her lip as she loosens her tie. "Touch me more."

"Are you in any position to be making demands?" he asks, even as he cups her chest through her jacket. "Such disrespect for your teachers."

"Sorry, sir." She's smiling, unsubtly grinding against his lap.

"You don't look sorry. I see that you need proper discipline." Only decades of experience in acting keeps him from smiling too. "Hands on the desk."

She obliges. Her underwear is purple today to match the outfit, peeking out from that tiny skirt. Moriarty inwardly compliments the choice as he unbuttons his trousers. Then the underwear gets pulled down one leg, and she gets a second to prepare herself before he slides into her.

"Moriarty-"

"Professor," he corrects breathlessly. He takes a second to collect himself before starting to move in slow, deep thrusts.

"Professor, Professor, Professor…" There isn't much Ritsuka can do while bent over Moriarty's desk, but her moans suggest she's far from complaining. She raises her hips into each motion to take him in just a fraction further.

"That's it. Be a good girl for me, Miss Fujimura." He unbuttons her jacket and shirt, letting them hang loosely as he squeezes her through her bra.

She whimpers, and her gaze alights on- "Did you get actual school textbooks for this scene?"

"Never underestimate the importance of props in a disguise." He's clearly not fucking her hard enough if she can ask questions like that.