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cinnamorollcrybaby · 8 months ago

Note

Miss ma’am, hi hello how are you?

I am presenting myself here, very very humbly to ask if we could please get another part of your Nerd Nanami fic?🥹🥹 please please puhleaseeeeeeeee

That was an actual masterpiece, I had to read it very slowly and savour it, making sure to process every single sentence of that fic. You’re so talented it makes me cry

Please offer us more Nanami, pleaseeeeeee

Giving the nerd a chance… part two

Tags: nerd!Nanami x fem!Reader, college au, smut with plot, nsfw, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, dom!nanami, sub!reader, marathon sex, exhibitionism if you squint real hard, mdni

Synopsis: Your nerdy boyfriend is so prim and proper in real life, but he has big dick energy over text.

An: 4K Follower Special! I got over 20 requests for a part two of this fic. At this time, it is my best performing fic on tumblr, and I fear… I may have peaked with it. I never EVER intended on writing a second part because I was sure that I couldn’t ever follow that fic up with something as good, but this sweet anon request warmed my heart so much that I decided to give the people what they’re asking for. This one’s going to be a long one… pace yourself because there will NOT be a third part… right?

Nanami’s a stoic lover. He doesn’t keep you hidden, but he doesn’t outwardly drag attention towards your relationship. Too much attention meant drama, and Nanami hates drama.

Nanami asked you to be his girlfriend a few weeks after the first time you two slept together. Of course, everyone in his friend group saw it coming long before you two had even hooked up.

They saw the longing gazes between you two when you pined for each other. They saw the cheeky glances once you two finally started texting. They noticed how their dear friend smiled more — was more laid back and relaxed.

Everyone welcomed you into their small found family with open arms. They simply couldn’t have picked anyone better to balance out Nanami’s far too strict nature.

Things with Nanami were absolutely a dream. You two had great chemistry emotionally and physically. Of course, he just made things so easy for you.

While he is a stoic lover, you never ever feel unloved by him. He’s always there to reassure you with words of affirmation or small touches that just remind you that he’s there.

Like when you two are at one of Satoru’s “exclusive” gatherings, if you’re not in Nanami’s lap, then he’s got his hand on you somewhere. Sometimes he gets so bored during those little get togethers that he spends his time leisurely pressing kisses into your cheek and neck. He never quite understood Satoru’s and Suguru’s affinity with public displays of affection until he met you.

Or there's those times when you need a little extra help with your studies. Kento is right behind you, with you on his lap, his cock is snuggly being squeezed by your warm leaking cunt. He presses small chaste kisses against your temple and ear while you try your hardest to focus on the homework.

"Do you remember this one, sweetheart? We went over it in class yesterday... Aw, don't go all stupid on me now."

When you get an answer right, he'll reward you with small, shallow thrusts, but you have to finish the whole assignment to get him to really fuck you.

Or if you two are walking together in the halls, Nanami holds his arm out for you, letting you latch onto him so he can guide you two through the crowd of people. He knows how you are in crowded areas, so he's keen on not letting anyone get too close to you.

Nanami’s a true gentleman too. His parents made sure they raised nothing less than a perfect man. You’ve never had to touch a door handle, any of your own money, or bags when you two go shopping. Nanami handles all of that for you. He doesn’t let you walk on the outside when you two are on the sidewalk. He’s respectful of you and your time, and he always listens to everything you have to say with his full attention because you deserve nothing less.

Nanami’s parents truly did their best work with him, and speaking of his parents, Nanami’s the type that wants to take you back home to meet them.

It was nearly fall break as you were sitting in your experimental research class — your final class before you’re free from the hell hole of academics for a full week.

You glance down at your phone as it buzzes in your lap. You and Nanami had been planning a trip out to his family’s home in Hakone for a little bit now, and the closer that time gets to you two leaving, the more stressed out Nanami feels.

Nanami: We’ll probably leave out early tomorrow morning and catch the first train. Will you be okay with that?

Yn: Mhm. That sounds fine, Ken.

Nanami: After class, I need to inform you a little bit more about my parents… I just don’t want you to feel shocked or surprised when you meet them.

Yn: I’m not sure why I’d be shocked or surprised, but I’m excited to hear more.

Nanami: Don’t get too excited.

You stare at his message for a bit, pondering what he could’ve meant by that. He hadn’t ever spoke poorly of his parents, but he didn’t necessarily praise them either. Actually… he never spoke of them.

*** *** ***

For the rest of the class, you wondered just what you were getting yourself into by going and meeting them. Maybe you two were moving too fast or..

“Sweetheart.” His steady voice broke your trance. He’s crouched down next to your desk to be eye-level with you, and the palms of his hand is gently caressing your cheek. “There you are. Spaced out on me.”

The entire classroom is empty. Class must’ve ended a minute ago because not even the professor is in the room now. You must’ve been deep in your own head.

You let force out an awkward laugh before nuzzling your cheek further into his palm, seeking out his affections as comfort from the insecure thoughts that somehow always manage to find a way in.

“I was just.. thinkin’ about your parents is all..” You finally give him some sort of explanation, and Nanami softens a bit.

“It’s just a weekend, my love. Then, I’ll make it up to you.” His words are a promise. You know for a fact Nanami doesn’t say things that he doesn’t mean.

“I think that was the part where you were supposed to reassure me that they’ll like me-“

Nanami pulls you forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll still love you regardless.”

Gods, his words are so sweet, but they cut deep like daggers.

“They’re… not going to like me..?” You mumble in a tone that makes Nanami’s heart sink. He takes your hands into his as he gets on his knee to better talk to you while you’re seated.

“My parents are… very traditional.” He carefully explains, and his hazel eyes search yours for a reaction before he reluctantly continues. “They want me to marry a girl from a specific family-“

“An arranged marriage!?” You blurt out — unable to control your emotions as it feels like your heart is trying to force its way up your throat.

“Something like that - but not exactly. It’s not arranged, but it’s definitely heavily pushed.” He tries to keep his tone steady, but seeing you so upset like this has him feeling raw with emotion as well.

“So, no, they will not be happy to know that I’m going against their wishes, but they’ll come around eventually.” His eyes focus on yours, and he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“… and if they don’t?” A small sniffle escapes you before you can stop it. The thought of Nanami being with anyone else has your head spinning. There’s another girl out there who might be expecting for him to take her hand in marriage.

“Hey... look at me.” He coaxes softly as his hand guides your face to look him in the eyes. “I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m doing this as a courtesy for them — not because I need their approval.”

Chills shoot up your spine from his words. Nanami rarely cusses, but when he does, it’s enough to even make Satoru blush when he hears it.

Your worry instantly flees your body when Nanami’s lips press against yours to seal the deal. This was just a visit to his parents. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“I’m still gonna love you…” He mumbles his words against your lips before seeking out more of your honeyed kisses. “…still gonna marry you one day…” His deep voice groans a little as he gently suckles on your bottom lip. “…still gonna fuck you senseless every night.”

“Ken..” A breathy whine; a whimper; a plea.

“Because you need it every night, don’t you?” His lips are still chasing yours with an insatiable hunger. It just wasn’t enough. If the next class wasn’t coming in the next 10 minutes, he’d take you right here on your desk, but he doesn’t fancy the idea of anyone else’s eyes accidentally falling upon your ethereal body.

“Mhm… need it.” You murmur against his lips quietly in agreement.

Nanami suddenly pulls away, and he reaches out, wrapping his hand around your wrist. “Come on before I fuck you right here.” He threatens and picks your bag up off the floor for you.

*** *** ***

A gasp flees you as Nanami pushes your back against his bed. His lips are immediately assaulting your neck: suckling soft red marks into your skin and nipping at you gently.

He loves to see the aftermath of his love on you, but he has to be careful this time. Can’t have you going to meet his parents with hickeys all over your neck, can you?

“Mmm~ What about Haibara?” You ask now before you find yourself too hypnotized by his affections.

“He has a class right now.” Nanami answers before his hand trails up your thighs towards your already damp panties. He has had this on his mind all day since he saw you in that cute little skirt you’re wearing.

“Already so wet.” He groans into your neck before biting at your shoulder. The pads of his fingers tease your sensitive clit through the cloth of your cotton panties. “Fuck. You’re so good to me.”

Nanami drops to his knees on the edge of the bed, and his strong arms pull you by your legs to where you’re situated at the edge for him to eat you out to his heart’s desire.

He doesn’t even remove your panties before he leans in and presses a sloppy kiss to your cunt. He can already taste you through the fabric, and he needs more.

His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, carefully placing them on his bedside table. If he can swing it, he’ll definitely hide them from you and claim that you lose them — just so he can keep them for when you’re not around.

He’s not a pervert!! Well… he loves jerking off into his girlfriend’s panties when he’s too needy at night… Feeling the wet fabric that was pressed so unceremoniously against your heavenly cunt is more than enough to get him off quickly. It would be ungentlemanly to wake you up at your dorm for such a scandalous adventure. At least he washes and returns them to you promptly after using them a couple of times.

As soon as your panties are safely discarded, Nanami has his face right back between your legs. He uses his hands to prop your legs up on his shoulder, and he just.. absolutely begins to devour you.

“Ngh.. oh fuck— wait Ken.. I wan..” You can barely get your words out right while his tongue is lapping at your slippery folds.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to interrupt someone during a meal?” His hazel eyes look up at you with such a serious look — you feel like you’re being scolded.

Your face flushes a bright red before you relax back into his bed — accepting your fate. Kento smiles to himself, knowing that it doesn’t take much to pacify you. You’re too much of a good girl for him.

“Mmm~ that’s right. Just lay back and take what I give you, pretty girl.” He hums in satisfaction as his tongue connects with your cunt once more.

He licks up all the sticky wetness that you so graciously leak for him. He’s so messy with it, practically french kissing with your cunt. Your juices are smeared across his chin from him hopelessly lapping at you. His tongue writes love letters to you against your clit, making your body shiver with pleasure and excitement.

One of your hands is clasping at the sheets, and the other hand is entangled in Kento’s blonde hair, giving him small tugs as he gives you the best head of your life.

Your thighs unconsciously press together, trying to run from the weird sensations that his mouth gives to you. Your boyfriend grunts in dissatisfaction — not enjoying the sudden disobedience from you.

His hand press against each of your knees, and he forces your legs back open — spreading you wiiiide open for him.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He asks while looking up at you through his lashes.

“Please — please~” You whine. Your hips involuntarily buck up, trying to get any sort of friction.

“Then be good, and sit still.” Nanami orders, and his hand ever so carefully swats at your sensitive cunt — sending shockwaves of electrifying pleasure through your nerve endings.

“‘m sorry.. ‘m sorry.. please.” You’re so whiny and desperate to be stretching by him. It’s honestly so pathetic that he pities you.

“My poor sweet girl.” He chuckles lowly before pressing a more gentle kiss against your clit. His tongue carefully dips into your wet heat. “Tastes too sweet for your own good. How am I supposed to stop enjoying you, huh?”

A glob of spit rolls down your cunt from Nanami’s mouth, and he uses his own two fingers to spread it around, softly toying with your glistening pussy. A smirk curls on his lips as he watches the way your entrance flutters — so enticed by the potential of being filled by him.

You quietly stifle a squeal as he stuffs you with two of his thick fingers. “So reactive, baby.” He murmurs as his tongue darts back out to gently lap and flick at your clit.

“Ken.. fuck, fuck-! Mmmph..” Your hips start to roll against his fingers, trying to force them inside you. Your boyfriend obliges your silent request, and he pushes his fingers in deeper, curling upwards to that spot he knows will make you cry out his name…

“Nanami-!” There it is. His fingers begin to roughly pump in and out, abusing your sensitive g-spot over and over again.

“Better be a good girl and tell me you love me.” He mutters lowly into your cunt. He knows he doesn’t have to tell you anymore — you’re already conditioned to tell him you love him when you cum. Even if he’s not the one making you finish, you’ll text him a quick “I love you” as you clench around your own fingers to the thought of him.

Your hips roll harder, and your moans are way more throaty — interrupted by small gasps for air. He can tell that you’re getting close. His mouth gently begins to suckle on the small bundle of nerves, and he focuses his tongue on swirling circles around your clit.

It’s all so much. It feels like Nanami is literally playing you like an instrument. He knows exactly what to do to make you a whiny trembling mess.

His fat fingers are pummeling into you, slamming into your sweet spot — making overstimulated tears well up in your eyes. “Sh-shit.. gonna cum.. Nanami… ah~ more..” You’re babbling utter nonsense while trying to find your orgasm.

Your stomach starts to clench, and it almost feels uncomfortable. Your breath stutters as Nanami murmurs into your pussy. “Let go for me, darling. Let it alllll out.” He encourages you as if his fingers and tongue aren’t absolutely tag teaming you.

“Ah~ Mmph… I.. fuck- I love you-!” You moan as you finally feel your orgasm suddenly break. Your tight walls clench around Nanami’s fingers, and fluids from your arousal gush out, making a big mess on his face and clothes.

Nanami quietly chuckles as he comes to realization that you just squirted on him. “Oh? That’s how you feel, huh?” He mocks playfully before pressing one last french kiss against your cunt. “I love you more darling.”

For a moment, you don’t know if it’s more directed towards you or your pussy.

*** *** ***

The early morning train ride was spent with your head cozied into Nanami’s shoulder as he had a protective arm around you. The scenery outside was beautiful. Hakone is known for their breathtaking sights of Mount Fiji. Too bad your eyelids were so heavy from getting up so early.

Nanami takes the silence as a time to reflect. He truly can’t remember a time when he was nervous like this. It was as if that emotion left him when he was a teenage boy. His family’s harsh regime for raising him left no room for shy or nervous behavior. Men were strong, confident, sophisticated. They exuded chivalry in everything they do.

Honestly, he’s glad that he was raised the way he was. Every time he bears witness to Gojo’s crude behavior, he can only think of how happy he is to have had a strict childhood.

But right now, he wishes he wasn’t so nervous. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he’s silently praying that you can’t hear it. Even though he didn’t care what his parents thought of you, he didn’t fancy the idea of seeing you torn down by his parents. Hopefully, they’ll have enough class to take up the issues with him — not you.

*** *** ***

Nanami’s parent’s house had a very traditional vibe to it, and it was easily twice as big as the house you grew up in. It was beautifully decorated, and the lawn was obviously meticulously cared for. It makes sense that Nanami grew up here.

“Just one weekend. Then, we’ll be back to normal.” Nanami murmurs softly into your ear. Though, he doesn’t know if he’s reassuring you or himself at this point. He takes a deep breath before knocking on the door with a heavy fist.

“Oh, Kennn.” His mother immediately ran up to Nanami and gave him a big hug after answering the door, which he returned back to her.

“It’s good to see you, mom.” He responds heartily before he holds out his hand to his dad.

“Look at you. Our son has grown up on us.” His dad gives a sweet smile while gently nudging his mom with his elbow.

“Don’t remind me!” His mom practically wails with her arms still wrapped around Nanami, and you’re awkwardly on standby.

Nanami finally puts his hands on his mom’s shoulders, and he forces her to take a step back. “It hasn’t even been that long since you two saw me, and besides, I brought someone for you two to meet.”

His arm carefully wraps back around your waist, and he looks at his parents before collecting himself briefly. “This is my girlfriend, Yn. Yn, these are my parents.”

His mom’s smile falters almost unnoticeably, but you immediately pick up on her dissatisfaction. His dad seems to just he surprised.

“Ah, yes, welcome to our home, yn.” His dad finally says with an earnest smile, and he subtly nudges his wife. It’s definitely a silent reminder for her to stop looking at you like you’re an intruder.

“Your home is lovely, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami. It’s nice to meet you two.” You try your best to not sound nervous at all, but his mom’s face just makes your stomach turn.

His parents guide you through their home, but they mostly focus their attention on Nanami: asking him about his studies, asking how Gojo’s doing, and asking if he’s contacted some girl named… Allegra. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was the girl who they wanted him to marry instead.

They didn’t ask you very many questions. His dad was friendly, but it seemed like he was tip toeing around all the awkward tension. His mom was just flat out ignoring your presence — clearly in denial about her son having a girlfriend who wasn’t this mysterious Allegra girl.

When it came time for dinner, his dad finally broke the awkward tension and asked about you.

“So yn, you go to the same college as Kento?” His dad seems to be genuinely sweet — just more on the passive shy side.

“Yeah, Ken and I actually share quite a few classes together.” You smile as your utensil grazes along the food they prepared. It smells delicious, but your nerves will barely allow you to nibble on it.

“What are you studying?”

“Oh, I’m in general studies for now. I’m still deciding on what to major in.” You reply as you finally feel yourself beginning to relax in your chair.

“Did you tell your friend that Allegra is studying to become a doctor? Wouldn’t that be nice to have in the family?” His mom finally speaks up, only addressing Nanami and not you.

Your stomach sinks as you realize why Nanami was so apologetic and reassuring this entire time. He knew his mom was just going to take subtle digs at you the entire time.

“One, she’s my girlfriend — not friend. Two, no, I have no reason to speak about Allegra with my girlfriend.” Nanami responds, and he gives his mom a subtle look. It appears they have a brief challenging moment before his mom looks away and relents.

Nanami’s foot gently nudges yours underneath the table, and you try to give him a small smile in response. It’s just hard when clearly you’re not wanted in this household.

The dinner goes silent for a moment, and the dining area fills with the sounds of chopsticks gently touching against plates. You subtly check your phone for an escape.

Nanami: Don’t pay her any mind, okay?

Nanami: I promise I’ll make up for this tonight. I’ll kiss you for every rude thing she says.

Yn: and for every time she says Allegra?

Nanami: I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember her name… make you so dumb until you can only remember my name. That’s all you need to know anyways.

Yeah, that’ll do it. The negative emotions are gone — replaced by a feral need for his cock. You take a subtle breath before putting your phone away, not wanting anyone to accidentally see him dirty talking you right in front of his parents.

“Ah, do you think you can help me out with the car tomorrow, Kento? Your old man is getting too old and worn out to crawl underneath there.” His dad finally breaks the silence once more.

“Of course, dad. What are you needing done on it? I’ll probably wake up early and get it done before day breaks.” Your boyfriend is such a good son. It’s no wonder that his mom is stupid protective over him.

“I just need to breaks changed on it. It’s probably due for an oil change too.” His dad explains, and Nanami assures him that he’ll get it done.

“I didn’t know you knew much about cars.” You take the chance of speaking up, and Nanami’s hazel eyes meet yours. His face instantly softens, and his mouth opens to speak. Too bad his mom beats him too it.

“Of course, he does. He needs to know all sorts of things like that in case his future wife needs her car repaired.” His mom says with a hint of hostility in her tone. “Speaking of which, Allegra just bought a new car a few months ago.”

You sit in silence for a moment, and you feel your stomach twisting in discomfort. You don’t know why you care so much for this woman’s opinion of you. Nanami already warned you that they likely wouldn’t approve of you, but you didn’t know you signed up to practically be bullied all weekend.

“I know a few basic things about cars. Nothing major.” Nanami responds to you — ignoring his mother’s comments. “I can show you too if you’re interested.”

A small smile curls on your lips, and you swallow back your emotions— trying to stay strong for him. “That’d be nice.”

“You definitely have a….”

“Mom.” Nanami immediately warns, staring down his mother before she can even finish her sentence.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything mean.” She’s immediately on the defensive, casually laughing as if she’s been nothing but friendly this entire time. “I was just going to say that your friend certainly has a bold personality… wearing red to meet someone’s parents is definitely… a choice.”

Your eyes look down at the nice blouse you’re wearing, and you swallow harshly. Nanami was actually the one to pick it out for you. He reassured you this morning that you looked gorgeous — unknowingly signing you up to be bullied.

Your face is burning hot with embarrassment, and you wish you could just fold in on yourself and die right on the spot.

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” Nanami frowns, and he puts his chopsticks down on his plate. “I’m serious. Being a bully at your age is unbecoming to you as a mother.”

“Kento.” His dad warns, but Nanami doesn’t relent for a second.

“No. I’m not going to sit here and allow her to continue disrespecting my girlfriend like that.” Your boyfriend retorts, and he switches back to glaring at his mother. “I’m not dating Allegra — nor do I want to. I’m doing you a favor by introducing you to yn. I figured you’d like to know your future daughter in law.” He gestures to you,

The color leaves his mom’s face as she stares back at her son — as if him implying that he is going to marry you is the worst news she’s ever heard. Her eyes cut over towards you in a vicious glare. “How long have you even known my son?”

Your heart is beating straight through your chest. Confrontation isn’t your strong suit, and to be honest, his mother was terrifying even though she’s literally shorter than you are.

“W-well, we met in college so…” You inwardly curse for stumbling over your words, and Nanami frowns as he looks at you. He hates that his parents are making you so unsure of yourself and your role in his life. He wants to take all your insecurities away and make you forget this ever even happened.

“It’s not even been that long! You don’t even have history with this girl. Allegra was your first kiss.. your first everything!” His mother raises her voice at Nanami, making exasperating hand motions.

His first everything? He told you that you were his first.

Tears prick into your eyes before you can even think to stop him. Overwhelmed by shame and just utter defeat, you don’t even know what to do other than to hide and cry.

Nanami’s eyes widen as he sees you clearly trying to cover up the tears streaming down your cheeks. His jaw tightens as he returns his gaze to his mother.

“That’s funny. I don’t recall you ever being present for any of those things.” His mom starts to speak up, but he is quick to shut her back down. “I kissed Allegra because you were breathing down my neck to. I was barely 15 at that time, and it happened once. That was the first and only time I ever even touched her.”

His mom starts to try to speak up again to probably bring up some other point about why he should be with Allegra. Nanami interrupts her again.

“Allegra and I do not like each other. We hardly tolerated each other for yours and her parents’ sake. You have to get over it. I’m with yn, and I’m happy — happier than I’ve ever been. She was my first everything. My first real kiss, my first girlfriend, and since you seem to want to stick your nose so far in my business, she was my first in bed too.”

“Kento, you’re being incredibly disrespectful.” Her voice is much more strict now as she scolds her grown son.

“I wonder where I get it from. It seems as though we both have a propensity for being rude.” He retorts, and while he’s arguing, his hand slides over to your inner thigh under the table, and he gropes it harshly.

He’s so pissed. He doesn’t even know how to get rid of this anger. His hand squeezes your thigh tightly, making your face go bright red as you look away from everyone.

“I’m not accepting her into this family. You can forget that. She’s changed you.” His mother’s words are growing harsher, and his dad is trying to quietly calm her. She doesn’t pay him any mind though.

“Fine. We’ll just go make our own family.” Nanami scoots his chair back, and he stands up. His hand roughly pulls you up as well — not giving you a chance to even think about what he just said. He bends down and effortlessly throw you over his shoulder, making you gape in surprise. His arm securing you by wrapping around the back of your thighs. “And by the way, I chose the red blouse. It matches the cute bra she’s wearing that I also chose for her.”

His parents stare at him — both completely dumbfounded by what just happened. They didn’t raise him to be like that, but what were they going to do?? Stop him? That’s a laughable thought. You’re not even sure God himself could pull Ken off of you when he’s feral like this.

His footsteps are heavy as he stomps up the stairs towards his teenage bedroom. Nothing has changed since he was last in here. It’s still completely sterile from how he was made to clean it each day. The walls are littered with posters of various science related things, and he has some posters of older video games he use to enjoy.

Your body is practically flung onto the bed, and Nanami doesn’t waste a single second. His heart is pounding in his chest. His mind is fogged with pure anger. He hasn’t felt like this in so long. It reminds him of why he took up going to the gym.

With no punching bag in sight, you’re his only outlet.

His body is unwavering on top of yours — a force to be reckoned with, and his mouth immediately connects with yours in a suffocating kiss. Quiet hums and moans fill the air between you two, and he quite literally steals the breath from your lungs. His fingers wrap around your wrists easily, pinning them above your head on the bed.

No longer satiated from robbing you of your breath, Nanami trails his kisses down to your neck. To hell with not marking you — he needs to see his brand on your neck. You’re his, aren’t you? Who cares if his parents see?

“Ah~” You let out a breathy whimper as he angrily sucks and bites on your neck. Your skin is sensitive - already turning bright shades of blue and purple from his mouth. His dental imprint litters your neck and shoulders.

“K-Ken.. what about..?” You start to ask about his parents. They’re going to hear you two. Wouldn’t that just make things worse?

“Don’t care.” He responds so brashly. If he thinks about his parent’s behavior any longer, he’s going to need to fuck you into next week to get all his anger out.

Riiiip!

Your eyes widen as you look up at your boyfriend’s hulking figure. The blouse that you were just criticized for was now more like a coat, split down the middle, revealing your perfect breasts, so prettily on display in your red lacy bra.

His mouth waters as he looks you up and down. You have almost this panicked look in your eye, provoked by his unpredictability, and for whatever reason, it’s driving him insane.

His mouth is back on you like it never left: kissing and biting on your mounds, painting them so beautifully with his mark. “You’re mine.” He grunts lowly. His jealousy almost makes it sound like his parents were insinuating that you should marry someone else.

“Say it.” He demands before his teeth graze over your collarbone. His warm breath fans over your skin, making you shiver.

“Yours.” You comply with such a small whimper, and your body jolts when you feel his raging bulge rub against you.

“See what you do to me?” He rumbles lowly as he looks down to where he’s now shamelessly dry humping you through clothes like he’s a horny teenager.

“Fuck… Ken..” You whisper as you’re also mesmerized by the sight. His slacks are completely taught, outlining the shape of his cock so well. You can almost see the veins that protrude on him.

His hips rolls slowly against yours, savoring the way the fabric rubs against him and you. His dick is painfully throbbing — begging for the reprieve of being squeezed by your gummy walls.

“Are you as much of a mess as I am, baby?” He asks as his hand dips into your pants. His eyebrows furrow, and he lets out a low groan as his fingers are instantly coated in your slick. He slips his hand back out of your pants just to slide his fingers into his mouth. He holds eye contact with you as he hums in satisfaction. He'll never get enough of your taste.

“You want this, don’t you? Want me to fuck you where my parents can hear you?” He slides his hand back down into your pants, and his fingers rub tight, firm circles against your clit, making your body squirm from pleasure.

“Nngh~ ah!” You’re already so noisy, and he hasn’t even began fucking you yet.

“Give ‘em a show, baby. Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

“Mmm~ Ken…” You moan as your back arches up off the bed. His fingers press down harder on your swollen clit.

“You can do better than that, darling.” He can be so condescending in bed, using that insatiable need for praise against you.

“Ken!” You shout, all logical thought has abandoned you. He tells you to do better? You do better.

“Good girl.” He purrs before sliding his hand out of your pants. He can’t get your clothes off of you quick enough. His cock is beckoning for attention, still neglected from yesterday of just eating you out.

Your hands shakily try to unbutton his shirt, and he chuckles lowly at your pitiful efforts. “Aw, my poor girl. Already so shaken up. Go on. You can do it.”

You huff at his taunting. Usually, he’d just see you struggling and take off his clothes for you, but today he was thriving off watching you so desperately trying to get his clothes off him.

It takes you a minute to get his clothes off him, and you don’t even properly take off his pants. You merely shoved them down along with his boxers just low enough for his monstrous cock to spring out. Nanami merely watches you with a cocky smirk.

“Yeah? This is what you wanted?” He purrs lowly, and he carefully drags his tip up and down your core, smearing his precum along your lips as if his tip was giving you a sloppy kiss.

“Gonna take all of it, aren’t you?” His other hand releases your wrists, and he lovingly cups your cheek. His hand is so big compared to your face. He loves watching you nuzzle up into his palm.

You nod your head quickly in response, lifting your hips up to meet his with each slow movement. Wet slippery noises from your cunt weeping for him fill the room.

“Use your words.” He demands before he speaks up louder — just to spite his parents who are right below you two. “I said. You’re going to take this dick like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” You whine before your body is completely shell shocked from a quick slap to your cunt. His cock is so heavy — you can feel the weight of it as his rudely smacks it against you again.

“Louder.”

“Yes sir-!” You immediately oblige, following his commands without a second thought in your brain.

His lips curl into a lopsided grin, and he carefully guides his sweltering tip towards your entrance, plugging your hole with just his head.

“Keep being a good girl like that, and I might have to give you baby. Do you want that?” He asks while carefully stretching you by fucking his tip in and out of your tight hole. “You wanna have my baby, don’t you?”

“Ffffuck- Ken! T-too much..” You squirm your body against his bedsheets, and he chuckles at your poor attempt at getting away.

“You clearly want this, so why are you running?” He hands latch onto your thighs, and he pulls you back down towards him, inadvertently impaling you even further on his cock.

A smug chuckles bubbles up in his throat as he sees how much of a mindless mess you are. He loves how he can make you all dumb so quickly with his dick. It brings him great joy to know that you trust him and can just let go, letting the more primal urges take over.

“Mmm~ so tight and wet for me, aren’t you darling? Need to just let Ken take care of you, yeah?” His voice is like velvet as he slowly thrusts himself in and out, sinking deeper into you with each movement, splitting you wide open.

“Ah~! nnnnn… so good.” You manage to whine out.

“What a crybaby. I know you can take me better than that, darling.” Nanami gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before his large hand wraps around your neck, applying pressure in just the right spots to make you all lightheaded.

"Come on. Show me how good you can take it~" His hips snap forward suddenly, sinking his full length deep inside you. Your eyes roll back into your head as he takes full control over you.

His hips are pounding forward, bumping his tip right against your cervix with every mean thrust. His balls are heavy and slapping against the flesh of your ass — a reminder for how pent up he's been recently.

Maybe it's the lack of an orgasm for the last couple of days or maybe it's his parents being utter assholes to you, but Kento finds himself feeling frustrated all over again. Low grunts and growls escape him, and he uses his grip on your neck to push himself in even further -- harder.

The sound of skin clapping against skin fills the room, and his childhood beds starts to squeak out with each forceful blow. He knows for a fact that his parents can hear every single noise. The thin walls of this house absolutely hide nothing. He may as well have fucked you right there against the kitchen table to really prove a point.

"Fuck-! Kenkenkenken! Ah~" You can't even form sentences much less words other than his name. Before you can even warn him, your walls begin to pulse around him - practically milking him while your orgasm takes you over. "Nnngh~ I-I love you.."

"Mmnn~ I didn't tell you that you could do that, sweetheart." He hazel eyes bore into your very soul as his grin shifts to a more wild one. His hips move with even more vigor as if he's trying to push himself straight into your womb,

His hand lets go of your throat, finally allowing you to get a deep breath of air while trying to cope with his massive size pumping in and out of you as if you're nothing but a senseless fuck toy, but you clearly fucking love it. You're practically dripping all over him, soaking his bedsheets in your arousal.

At this point, his parents aren't sure if he's killing you or fucking you. Either way, they're too afraid to intervene. They didn't raise a gentleman at all. They raised a monster.

"Mmph... Need to give you a baby. Can I? You'd make such a pretty mama. School be damned. I need you." Normally, Nanami is pretty controlled over his pillow talk. He's really good at it, but right now, he's completely lost in you -- just babbling promises of giving you a baby and marrying you.

"Y-yes, Ken! Fuck... give me a baby, please." Your legs are trembling around his waist, and your fingernails are giving him such pretty decorations along his back. Small trophies for fucking you just right.

"Fuuuck- Take it. T... take it all..." His voice is a gravely groan as his cock twitches inside you, spilling all of his seed directly into your tummy. It's so fucking much from holding back for a couple of days - completely filling you up. "I love you so much. Gonna marry you one day."

The house is eerily silent for a moment as both you and Nanami catch your breaths. He stays planted on top of you, keeping your legs hooked around his waist. Small creaks of footsteps against a floorboard fill the air, and you tense up, thinking his parents were going to come in there and raise all sorts of problems.

Nanami gently strokes your face with the back of his hand. "Shhh, they're not coming in here. Promise." He whispers lowly, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You slowly relax in his arms, trusting his words that his parents weren't going to come in there.

You can hear a door open and shut, and it sounds like bickering back and forth between his parents.

"See? They're just going to bed." He presses another reassuring kiss to your cheek.

His hips continue to lazily pump in and out of you, basically fucking his cum back into you as it seeps out. His cock is hyper sensitive, but he can't get enough. You're completely drenched for him. You deserve more of his loving.

"Keennn~" You whine quietly, shifting in the bed slightly as your legs are all achy and sore from him taking out all of his anger on you.

"What is it, baby?" He asks in a hushed whisper against your ear. His breath tickles your skin, making you slightly squirm in response. "I'm just making sure it takes, yeah?" His cock sinks further into you, already growing hard all over again even though he just finished.

"Mmmph~" You hum as your eyes slipped closed. Nanami smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, knowing that you're already needy all over again for him.

"Answer me, darling. Want me to stop?" He asks while peppering kisses all over your face. If the last round was about degradation and taking his anger out, then this one was about how much he loves you and can't get enough of you.

"Nonono... don't stop, please." You murmur out quickly, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

"That's my good girl... Always needin' more, aren't you?" He hums lowly, and his cock pumps in and out so slowly, delicately smushing against your cervix with each loving thrust.

"Mmn.. I love you." You slur out, completely cock drunk at this point. Kento just smiles and continues to dote on your with messy kisses against your cheeks and neck. His hand is gently massaging your breast, just barely teasing your nipple while he makes love to you.

"And I love you, darling." He responds before he feels you squeezing around him already. "Oh pretty, again?" He asks as his eyes look down to your fluids gushing around his length. "Such a mess. How are we meant to sleep on these sheets now?"

"'m sorry... I c-couldn't help it. 'm so sorry." You whimper as your face dips into his shoulder, hiding you obvious embarrassment.

Kento's arms wrap around your waist, and he uses his hold on you to drag you up and down along his length — still moving at such a torturously slow pace, making you feel every inch as it enters you.

"Aw, that's alright, darling. I'll clean us up. Just take a little bit more for me, yeah?" He whispers into your ear while your pelvis is slotting against his. He's damn near holding you up into his arms. Lucky you for having such a strong boyfriend.

His lips find yours for a messy kiss. His tongue slips past your lips, claiming your mouth as his completely. A few seconds later, his cock is pumping you full again with his cum — still so much on the second round.

Without even missing a beat, Nanami's mumbling breathily in your ear. "Mmm, I know I said I'd clean us up, but you wouldn't hate a third round, would you?"

*** *** ***

Nanami didn't wake you up the next morning to watch him work on the car. He knew your poor little body was put through the ringer yesterday, so he gave you a tender kiss on the temple before making his way into the garage in just his sleeping pants and socks.

His father's car was already propped up on the jack, and his father groaned as he leaned up off the ground. "Well good morning." He says in a knowing tone.

"Good morning. Why are you down there? I told you I'd fix it today." Nanami asks as he shoos his dad out of his way, and he slides himself underneath the car.

"Well, I didn't know if you'd be up for it after your fun ventures last night." His dad hands Nanami a tool to help get the brake pads off the car.

Nanami stays silent. In his new found clarity, he does know that fucking you so loudly to where his parents can hear was a weird retaliation method, but he doesn't regret doing it.

"Your mother cried all night last night."

"Maybe she needs a reality check if she's that damn upset about who I choose to romantically involve myself with." Nanami rolls his eyes, and he grunts as he forces the brake pad away from the car.

"I don't think she was crying because of that. I think she realizes just how far she drove you away from her with her constant pressure over your love life." His dad explains, and he hands Nanami the new brake pad to replace on the car. "I'm not saying you or yn have to forgive her for how she acted today, but I am asking that you try to give her another chance today. I think she understands now."

Nanami takes a deep breath, but he nods quietly. "She's got one more time to say anything rude to my girlfriend, and we're taking the first train back to the university."

*** *** ***

Your eyes darted over to Nanami's nervously when his mother asked you to have a girl's day with her, but your boyfriend gently rubbed your back, silently assuring you that it'd be okay. At least, he hoped it'd be okay.

Nanami: Text me if she says anything rude. I'll pack our stuff up and we'll leave, okay?

Luckily, you didn't have to text him at all that day. His mom took you sight seeing around the town, out to eat at one of Hakone's favorite restaurants, and you two got your nails done.

"You know, I was being a bad person yesterday." She starts off as you two are sat next to each other. Her feet are being massaged by one of the workers, and you're getting your toes painted. "I guess I just had this idea of how I wanted Kento's life to go, and when things started not going to plan, I started trying to grasp onto anything that'd give me control."

You glance over at his mother, and she has a small nostalgic smile upon her face. "I can't believe I allowed myself to act that way towards you... especially after my parents did the same thing to Kento's dad."

"Your parents didn't accept Kento either?" You curiously ask, wondering how similar your stories were.

"No, but they didn't try to arrange me into a marriage either. They just didn't think Kento's dad was manly enough for me. They didn't like seeing me wear the pants in the relationship, but that's just what works for us... I use to beg for them to just let us be happy, but they never stopped criticizing him. I finally just.. stopping talking to them when I fell pregnant with Kento." She explains in a voice raw with emotion. You can clearly see how this still impacts her to this day.

"I don't want Ken to do the same to me... I want to be in his and your life and my future grandchild's life if that's what you two choose to do. I raised him well, and I know he has a good judgement of character. So, I know you must be a good person. If he's happy, then that's all that matters to me." She goes on, giving you a small apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry for how I acted towards you last night. It will never happen again."

*** *** ***

Nanami had spent the whole day checking his phone religiously while his dad kept him employed with random home renovation tasks. He was waiting for the moment to start packing up your stuff and telling his mom that he wasn't going to speak to them again.

When he heard sounds of wailing coming from the front door, he immediately hopped off the ladder that his dad was holding for him.

"Kento-!" His dad shouts as he wobbles around, but Nanami was already speed walking towards the front door to see what was happening.

To his surprise, there was no wailing. It was only hysterical laughter coming from you and his mom. He stood in the door way with a confused look on his face as he observed you two.

"Yes, he was such a cutie pie.." His mom laughs as she shows you another picture of Kento in high school.

"Aww, Ken... you didn't tell me you were emo." You greeted your boyfriend with a fit of giggles from seeing his high school photos. His fringe proudly in view.

Nanami rakes his hands through his shorter hair now, and he lets out a relieved laugh. Seeing you interact so happily with his mom was enough to make him feel full with love. His heart feels at ease now... until he remembers that he has to meet your parents at some point.

tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

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g1rld1ary · 27 days ago

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forever ain't too long - james potter x reader

wc: 1496 summary: you can feel your soulmate's pain, and your touch can heal them. you think you must have the clumsiest soulmate on earth. me: a late contribution to bound together au for @acourtofchaos festival! felt bad that i haven't written anything in a while so tada... exams and assignments r coming up so who knows when the next fic will be!! also this is my first soulmate au which feels crazy!

All things considered, you were a pretty lucky girl. You’d never broken a bone, twisted an ankle; you’d never even had a bee sting or splinter. You weren’t sure how or why, but you thought it must’ve been the universe’s little gift to you.

Unfortunately, it seemed like your soulmate did not share your gift. Quite the opposite, really. Even in your earliest memories, you’d experienced phantom pains at all hours of the day. Over long years of sudden, random aches and pains, you’d decided your soulmate must’ve been the clumsiest person on earth.

It didn’t stop as you grew older, unfortunately and surprisingly, and you still often found yourself groaning in pain while washing dishes, doing homework or hanging out with friends. Pretty much everyone in your life was used to it by now, but it was still unpleasant for you.

You thought your soulmate might’ve been an athlete. The injuries got more frequent over some parts of the year, and you recognised the pattern as the Quidditch season, though you weren’t sure if any other sports aligned with the same schedule.

Still, that didn’t mean you went to Quidditch matches any more than a few a year. It wasn’t really your thing, but you’d go if all your friends did. Maybe, secretly, it’s because you were too scared to accidentally meet your soulmate.

You were only a seventh year, if you met your soulmate now, you’d have an awfully long life left with them — if all went to plan. The idea of having to be with someone forever was, well, scary. And you weren’t like Sirius and Remus, you didn’t live and breathe for someone else, the idea of forever for you was just plain frightening.

Somehow, you’d been convinced to attend the Gryffindor—Ravenclaw semi-final Quidditch match. Well, somehow was perhaps misleading.

James had walked into the common room the night before, muddy, sweaty but beaming from a final late practise, and locked eyes on you, curled up on your favourite armchair.

“Hiya,” He said, looming over you and partially blocking the firelight. You tilted your head up to face him, squinting to readjust your eyes in the altered brightness.

“Hey.” You smiled sweetly, “How was training? You gonna win tomorrow?” James grinned, cocky even despite his obvious weariness.

“Only if you come watch, sweetness. Need my lucky charm there.”

“Don’t be daft, Potter. You win all the time when I’m not there.” You rolled your eyes, attempting to go back to your book.

“Only ‘coz I’m thinking of you, lovie. Gotta win for my best girl.” You huffed, pushing yourself out of the armchair, bringing your novel with you.

“You’re ridiculous,” You patted him lightly on the bicep to ease some of the tension between you, “And you need to get some rest before tomorrow. G’night, Potter.”

With that, you headed upstairs to wrap up your own night.

“So are you gonna come or not?” James called up to you, breaking the silence of the common room. You looked back, one hand still resting on the bannister of the staircase. After a moment, you produced a small smile.

“Maybe if you’re lucky.” You retreated into your dorm without any other conversation, leaving James standing in a lovesick daze in the middle of the common room. He was well aware of the way the deep ache in his bicep had dissipated the moment you touched it, but he knew it wasn’t the right time to make you aware of that fact.

That brought you back to the Quidditch match, to your seat between Lily and Peter. It was an intense game, both teams desperate to get into the finals. Neither team was above playing dirty, and you were sure it was the most violent match you’d ever seen.

You were also, to unsure feelings, becoming sure that your soulmate was on one of the two playing teams. You were in silent agonies, your insides reflecting the conflict between the two opposing teams.

Coming to reluctant terms with the fact that you’d have to narrow down who your soulmate was sooner rather than later, you only hoped it wasn’t Richard McLaggen, the brutish, unpleasant beater from the Ravenclaw team.

Unfortunately, it was almost impossible for you to narrow down who it could be from simply watching the match. Players darted around like flies, zipping from one sport to the next so quickly it was hard to keep track of, let alone tell who was who or what their interactions were with other players.

You’d been distracted by your realisation and had evidently zoned out of part of the gameplay, but you were ripped back into reality by Lily’s aggressive grasp on your wrist as she gasped in horror.

Like in slow motion, it seemed like the entire stadium fell quiet as five or six players all collided at once in a dreadful mess of limbs and brooms. You winced as you certainly felt somebody’s injuries all over your body, but that was nothing compared to the horror of watching a body unmistakably James-shaped fall through the air, struggling in vain as he dropped quickly towards the sand.

You couldn’t breathe until he finally wrapped his fingers around the handle of the broom, breaking his fall slightly. He still landed in the sand with an audible groan, but at least it didn’t look like he’d shattered every bone in his body.

You couldn’t differentiate James’ injuries from anyone else’s, so you had no way of knowing whether it could be him or any of the other unfortunate players who’d just taken a beating. But the flutter of your heart was there at the idea, and that… Well, that was maybe scarier than anything you’d seen in the match.

Gryffindor won the match, no thanks to James, who’d been carried off and taken straight to the infirmary, a frightening amount of blood dripping down his face.

The rest of your friends stormed the pitch with the rest of the school when the match ended, celebrating your house’s victory. You didn’t join them, scared of the crowd and, admittedly, a little worried about James up in the infirmary by himself.

The school was scarily silent as you rushed through the halls, trainers echoing against the tile. You slipped through the heavy door into the otherwise empty infirmary, sighing in relief as you saw James propped up in the hospital bed, looking mostly alive.

“You’re a sad sight,” You said, and James looked up at you with doe eyes, a crooked, split smile appearing as he took you in. He truly looked a mess; blood still crusted down his chin and in his hair, bruises already forming on the surface of his skin.

“They couldn’t take the fact that I was hot and good at Quidditch, love, it’s no biggie.” You rolled your eyes with a small laugh, sitting on the edge of his bed so you could talk.

“You know I hate to be genuine, but are you actually okay? That was really scary, James.” Without thinking, you swiped your thumb across your tongue, moving it down to James’ red, raw lips, intending to wipe away some of the blood that had escaped from the gnarly split in his lower lip.

“Yeah, ‘course, I…” He trailed off, not only at the surprisingly intimate gesture, but also at the way he could feel the cut close up under your touch.

Your eyes snapped up to his, a quiet “Oh” escaping your own lips, but your hand didn’t move from its light hold on James’ face.

There was no avoiding it now; the evidence was pretty undeniable, even for you. James Potter was your soulmate. But instead of the intense, ice-cold fear that ran through your veins, James only had a warm, adoring smile on his newly healed lips.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked with uncharacteristic shyness.

“No!” You were quick to assure him, hand moving up to brush through his unruly curls. You were surprised that you didn’t have to think before responding, and even more so at the fact that you didn’t think you were lying. “I’m not disappointed. Scared, maybe. But I could never be disappointed with you.”

James beamed, golden and bright and warm, and you couldn’t resist returning it. He lifted a weak arm to cup your face, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek softly.

Maybe you weren’t the biggest fan of the whole soulmate thing, and maybe it’d all turn to shit and your doubts would be for good reason. But there, in the silent infirmary, admiring the gold flecks in James’ eyes, forever really didn’t seem so scary.

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nanamisgirly · 2 months ago

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pussy slapping with your maths teacherྀི

based on this ask (I hope the anon will like it🙂‍↕️)

next part

you knew the email meant trouble the second it landed in your inbox.

subject : “Homework 6 — Integrity Dicussion.” from : [email protected]

so now you're standing outside his office door, palms sweating, thighs pressed together in your miniskirt like that might save you from the cheating homework you assigned. it's not like you're scared of Gojo. he's just your goofy annoyingly attractive nerd math professor. the man wears Gundam socks with his loafers, makes calculus puns, and has a signed photo of Neil deGrasse Tyson on his bookshelf like it's a family heirloom.

but he also happens to have shoulders like a swimmer, hands big enough to palm a basketball, and a mouth made for sin that he hides behind dump jokes with his stupidly slutty glasses. you're not into him or anything tho, you're just not blind.

your knuckles tap against the door.

“come in,” he calls, voice low. too low actually.

you step in, closing the door behind you.

the first thing you see are the posters of fractals and famous math equations—not surprising. in the other hand, what is really surprising is the life-size cardboard cutout of the pokémon Blastoise. what the fuck is that?

your surprise doesn't stop there, as your eyes land on the chunky old Casio calculator sitting on his desk next to a mug that says, “i'm a cute professor <3”.

he's seated at his desk, glasses on, sleeves rolled to the elbows showing strong forearms scribbled in veins, one ankle resting over the opposite knee like he's got all the time in the world. a lopsided smile appears as he asks “you're nervous ?”

you scoff, clutching your handbag a little tighter. “i'm not.” he's the one to talk—how would anyone look comfortable in a office looking like this?

“mmh. tell yourself that.” he leans, pulls open a drawer and slides out your homework. he taps the edge the paper as he hold it in the air. “you handed your homework last week. and you scored…a beautiful 97.” he tilts his head, gauging your reaction.

you're feeling a bit too hot now, sweats trickling down your spine, but you try to hold it together. you feign innocence, “yeah, incredible isn't it?” you say, rolling your eyes to play it cool.

he hums thoughtfully. “sure… if you hadn't cheated.”

you swallow, crossing your arms as you cock a hip “a girl scores high and suddenly some old grump of a man's offended by it. what a world we live in.”

gojo leans back in his chair, gaze sliding over your form—lingering a bit too long on your thighs. “is that how it is?" he hums, eyes flicking up to meet yours "just a bitter old man then?” the corner of his mouth twitches like he's trying not to grin

he clicks his tongue and leans back further, arms spreading across the armchair like he owns the place. he does, actually. his knees spread too—annoyingly wide, “look, we both know you didn't do these problems yourself. and you're gonna redo it. right here. right now. on me.”

your lips part. “gojo—”

“professor gojo,” he corrects, tone maddeningly even. “you don't want me to call the Academic Integrity Committee, do you?”

you glance down at his thighs, then back up. “you're a math professor. Not my—”

“—brat tamer?” he cuts in smoothly, raising a brow without blinking.

you go still. your jaw clenches, heat crawling up the back of your neck. he's so smug. smug and patient and infuriatingly unfazed.

you step forward and settle on his lap—hovering, refusing to fully sit. if he thinks you're gonna give in that easily, he's dead wrong. you don't care if your thighs start shaking. you'll squat until the apocalypse if you have to.

“ah—!” a squeal rips out of you when his hands clamp around your hips, big and warm and decidedly firm as he drags you down until you're fully seated, straddling his lap. your miniskirt hikes up dangerously high in the process, your bare thighs pressed tight to his slacks.

his breath hitches, almost imperceptibly. you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't so hyper-aware of every single shift in the room.

“problem one,” he says, casually putting your paper on the desk like he isn't now rock-hard beneath you like a complete weirdo. his hands stay planted on your thighs, thumbs stroking idly, but his voice stays cold. unbothered, professional almost.

keyword : almost.

you swallow hard, cheeks burning from the sheer proximity—his firm chest pressed to your back, white fluffy hair brushing every time he leans in. his scent clings to your skin—clean linen, cologne, and chalk dust—it's driving you insane. and those damn impossible formulas staring up at you on the paper—differential equations, matrix exponentials, fucking laplace transforms. couldn't he have picked basic calculus ?

your brain is short-circuiting. and the little laughs of the far-too-good-looking-with-his-glasses-pushed-low-on-his-nose professor is doing nothing to ease your nerves. “solve the matrix for the homogeneous system.” your spine stiffens as his voice is nothing but hot air dragging goosebumps up your neck.

“c'mon, engineer girl. use that big brain of yours.” you let out a shaky exhale, trying to focus on the paper even while his fingers toy with the hem of your panties. he hasn't even really touched you, but you're feeling your panties clinging to you—embarrassingly wet.

“one over s-squared plus four?” you try something, mind too fuzzy to think. your breath catches as his fingertips trace your clothed slit—oh very so slowly. he doesn't bother pressing, just lets the fabric catch and soak even more.

“gojo, what are you—”

“professor,” he reminds you, tone suddenly sharp. “and…” he's turning his head, cheek brushing yours as he watches your teeth dig in your bottom lip “no guessing.” you shudder, thighs trembling on his thick one.

that’s ridiculous how sensitive you were from featherlight touches…you’re better than that..so why are your wetting your thighs by seconds ?

“from now on,” his fingers slip beneath the damp lace, two digits brushing your folds, “you get every problem right, you're so good at pretending to be smart—but be smart.” his hand curls back up—cupping your pussy, applying steady pressure to your aching clit through the underwear. your thighs squeeze together instinctively, the heat unbearable.

you stare at the same problem, chest rising and falling in heavy breath. “a-a inverse time b—?” you offer weakly.

a low, pitying sound escapes him.

smack.

“wrong again.” the sudden sharp slap on your cunt makes your entire body jolts in his lap, your ass pressing harder against his cock. your head drops forward, tears prickling your lashes, hips twitching in a pathetic attempt at friction.

it"s so humiliating. that nerd of a teacher. fuck.

“uh-huh, don't move, sweetie. who told you you get to grind on my thigh?” he grabs your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to meet his glacier-blue eyes glinting behind crooked glasses. “let's try again. if f(t) = sin(3t), then what's the Laplace transform?” his breath ghosts over your cheek, one hand directing your gaze to the paper like you aren't already losing your mind.

your mind scrambles, your pussy pulses, and you're cursing the world for putting you in this situation. you can't even help it, it just feels so good.

your voice breaks on a moan, nothing reflecting your angry mind “three… over…squared plus n-nine—”

gojo groans softly, cock twitching under your ass. “there she is,” he mutters, hand sliding down to rub rough circles against your clit. “smart and fuckable? you might be my new favorite little project sweetie.”

and just as a whimper leaves your lips—the second your hips barely roll forward in a desperate grind—he yanks his hand away.

“what did i say?” he asks, calmly adjusting his glasses like he's not the filthiest thing on earth right now. “no grinding. one right answer doesn't mean you get to cum. you've got four more questions, we're far from done.”

he lands another slap on your clit—scarily precise. “i get to edge you again. and again. until your poor little cunt forgets what cumming even feels like.” you sob his name as he pulls your underwear taut between your fat lips, the soaked lace dragging cruelly against your swollen clit. you shove your fist into your mouth, biting it to stay quiet.

he dips his fingers back into the ruined mess between your legs. not inside—never inside apparently. he's probably a psychopathe who loves skimming his student's pussy entrance, circling it like a threat.

“if you get all the five right tho," he murmurs darkly, "i'll bend you over this desk and fuck you, raw, with your nose pressed onto that test," your walls clench hard at his words—and he feels it, obviously…

smirking into your hair, he adds, “you'd love that, of course you would. so go on, sweetie. show me you're not just a brainless little brat. show me how much of a perfect slut you are for good grades.”

you swear once you'll get all your mind together, you're gonna make him regret everything. that cocky, small-dick bastard—acting like he's got a big game between his thighs.

a nerd like him, isn't packing enough to pleasure you. right?

^⌯𖥦⌯^

a/n aaaand we thanks my bachelor in engineer for my knowledge ☝🏼 tho i hope you enjoyed reading this, i don’t think it’s perfect buuut i tried :))) let me know 🫶🏻

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retiredteabag · 7 months ago

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Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader.

pt. 1 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Sukuna would be a super challenging project partner in school.

Say what you like but he absolutely would be the type of person to expect you to do all the work. That, or he would pretend he didn’t understand and wait for you to get frustrated and do it yourself.

He would be popular, but not in the “likable” kind of way, but in the same way that kids always love the teacher that (not so secretly) hates them. He despised how people followed him around, trying to hold a conversation. Despite this, it was as if his fellow students were attracted to him like magnets.

Not you though, you didn’t like a man with an ego. You saw him roll his eyes and sleep in class. You saw as he crawled into his desk at the far back of the classroom, spreading his tattooed thighs in an undignified manor.

And when you were paired with him from a dual project? You could cry with frustration.

He would simply raise a brow at you with his arms crossed as you tried to explain what was needed for the assignment.

“Do you… understand?” Sukuna had hardly spoken a word to you, not just in this exchange, but in all your time at the school.

He would simply grunt, smacking his palms on the table, rising from his chair and sliding your page of notes into his hand. “Cool to go?”

How was it he could sound annoyed without you even doing anything to upset him?

“Right…” you sigh.

You would be working together for up to an hour after class twice a week, and as finals approached, you decided you needed to meet once on Fridays as well in the library.

The pink-haired man would hardly spare you so much as a glance as he scrolled on his phone during class and work time.

When you would text, requesting his portion of the project, he would respond hours later with, “I’ll just turn it in myself.”

You would grind your teeth.

No. Way. Absolutely no shot in the world were you going to allow this delinquent to turn in homework correlated with your name inversely bring your grade down.

You would politely insist on seeing (editing) his work, for organizational purposes only, of course. And his response?

“You worry too much”

You near throttled your innocent roommate with anger at his laissez faire attitude after reading his late message one evening.

On one particularly cruel Friday, you were seriously feeling the effects of finals crawling into your brain. You had hardly slept, spilled coffee on your textbook, and experienced car troubles that caused you to be late to class.

Staying to the end of the lecture to apologize to your professor for this lapse, you expected an understanding, “Hey, no worries, life happens, I’ve been there.” And instead received an overtly harsh, “Do you know how much participation counts for in my class? Don’t let it happen again.”

Was it childish? Yes. Was it overly emotional? Also yes. But did every ounce of your validation come from the adult figures in your life? Of course. So how could you not cry at the knowledge that you had disappointed, let down, upset, one of the professors you had previously admired?

By the time you reached your seats in the library Sukuna was already laid across his own spot, not unlike a jungle cat.

This was the first time he had arrived before you.

Another wave of shame passed your consciousness at the thought of this no-good-trouble-maker showing up to the library with more dependability than you, and huffed a sigh.

Sukuna rolled his neck back down when you sat across from him. As usual, no words passed between you, but he seemed to be observing you closely.

He didn’t pull out his phone, he didn’t grumble responses. No, in fact, be pulled out a notebook and took notes. Finalized an outline for points of contention in his part of the project. And even seemed to consider your own writings (that you had been sending him weekly).

And this time, as you were starting to rise from your seat, he didn’t race off, groaning as if he had just wasted an hour of his life he regretted to never see again, but rather, stood slowly, and leaned down to try and catch your gaze.

Eventually, you had to meet his eyes, patient beast he was, and as your arms fumbled with your backpack, he just raised an eyebrow and murmured,

“Take care.”

Before he was gone.

Imagine your shock when your professor grades the preliminary paper and presentation you had been slaving over, after being horrified with the end result due to Sukuna inability to send his part in and after a panicked email about how unsportsman your teammate was, begging to please please please take into consideration the difference between students, with a glowing review, claiming that it was always a privilege to read “the two of y’all’s work”.

Turns out the delinquent who slept in class, avoided contact with fellow students, never so much as attempted to prove his understanding of the project, and stared blankly at you as your “tutored” him on the subject, was neck and neck with you as top student in class.

Son of a bitch.

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prosypepper · 8 months ago

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“parenting class” with kei tsukishima

this is part six of my kinktober event :3

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nsfw, timeskip tsukishima, breeding, talks about pregnancy, tsukki is maybe a little bit bad!, finishing inside, unprotected p in v. 18+ mdni!

notes: who tf was gonna tell me pregnancy scares are real

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

kei tsukishima didn’t know what had come over him.

personally, he blamed that stupid parenting class that was required, for some reason. kei thought it was idiotic, but he needed it to graduate. and they absolutely doomed him when they put both of you in class together.

there was something about you, his sweet, beautiful and kind girlfriend that had already won his heart a million times over, doing things that a mom would do. of course, they provided those dumb dolls that cried and stuff—but you seemed to be able to calm the robot baby down instantly. the smallest appearance of a smile came over his face when you’d bounce the doll in your arms, or feed it the fake food.

god forbid when they made you wear that horrible pregnancy vest, because it gave your boyfriend terribly amazing imagery of what you’d actually look like carrying his child. maybe he was weird for it, but after the few weeks of that class was over, kei couldn’t stop himself from only thinking about one thing;

getting you pregnant.

he hadn’t ever been the dad type, until now.

“do you want kids?” tsukishima had asked you, all the while focused on a homework assignment. the question was one you hadn’t talked about before. it took you by surprise, obviously, and you wondered if it was something your tsukki wanted, too.

“if you want them, yeah.”

and that reply is what led kei to his current position, deciding between two ways the both of your lives could go. but as you laid there in his dorm room, trapped under his arms, all the excuses he could make for what he was about to do ran through his head. both of you were adults, set to graduate college in a few months, along with jobs lined up the second you got your diplomas. he already had a ring for you, he’d decided he was going to marry you a long time ago—

what did he have to lose?

“are you okay? you seem out of it, tsukki,” you say, running your fingers through your boyfriend’s blond locks. you had been waiting for a few minutes now, and all kei was doing was staring down at you, the look in his eyes gradually shifting over time.

“mhm.” is the only reply you get out of him, but he finally starts to move his eyes up and down your face, skimming over your lips and soft cheeks. kei felt like he could moan aloud when you wrap your arms behind his neck and lean up to give him a small peck.

he loved how sweet you were to him, a stark contrast in his own personality. he was never one to show affection in many ways, but you made up for it with the amount of affection you gave him. you had kei wrapped around your little finger, and boy, did he know it.

wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull kei in impossibly closer, the warmth in between your legs now was prodded at by the tent in your boyfriend’s boxers. kei harshly sucks air through his teeth at the pressure, absentmindedly rutting against you, feeling your panties and the dampness behind them, absolutely soaked. kei could tell.

“i don’t have a condom,” he remarks, subtly watching how you’d react.

“oh—um, it’s okay,” you reply almost instantaneously, “i’m on birth control, tsukki.”

damn it.

tsukishima nods his head, leaning up to allow space for the both of you to strip away the clothing that was keeping him from being inside of you. scooting back on the bed, you allow him room to join you. kei climbs up on the mattress with you, slotting himself between your already spread thighs, cock immediately pressing against the warm wetness of your cunt. you whine at the teasing, though it isn’t intentional, and kei hushes your noises with a sweet kiss.

as your lips lock and your skin becomes warmer at your lover’s contact, kei’s slender hands come to grab under your thighs, situating you in a rather unexplored position—a mating press. his head draws back again, just to take in the sight of you; in his shirt, and rather everything else completely exposed to him. the small light coming from his desk lamp illuminates you perfectly, shows off how soft you are to kei, the perfect body to carry his kids—

“kei,” you whine, “are you sure you’re okay?” your question is half concern and half desperation, wanting him to either move or tell you he isn’t horny; though, the raging erection he has would say otherwise. “if you don’t wanna do it, we don’t have to—oh!”

your rambling is cut off by a harsh thrust inside, kei wasting no time to completely insert himself into you. he was never one to be too rough, maybe a little erratic, but never completely silent and impatient. you can tell there is no patience left in your boyfriend, with how he immediately begins a grueling, fast pace, slamming his length into you with unrelenting force. your pretty little brain, usually so sweet and composed, has no time to think about what’s got him so worked up, because he has you yelping out within only a few seconds.

“kei—kei!” you chant his name, it’s falling off your lips like a routine prayer, stuck on loop like a broken record.

kei’s knees dig into the fabric of his sheets, his thighs completely straightened, and it feels like he is using every bit of strength to wind his hips up and violently slam them back into you. becoming so fond of this position, you can feel him in new depths, as the slit of his cock taps – no, angrily impales – your cervix. he’s no longer calculated, or sweet, whatever had gotten into kei had made the man completely animalistic.

syrupy, soaked walls clamp around his length ridiculously tighter with every meeting of your hips, and you mewl. the first remnants of sweat creep on your boyfriend’s hairline, his glasses are beginning to slip down his nose, he’s almost silently panting. when your eyes aren’t squeezed shut, you can see the blank, mean expression settled on tsukishima’s features; it wasn’t a softened version of his face like normal.

“feels s’good, tsukki!” you manage to stammer out, arms flailing to the pillow you rested your head on to hold.

“yeah?” followed by a grunt is the only reply, the only words tsukki has given you the entire interaction. he usually liked to tease you, or have more remarks when you babbled on about how good he felt. but no, not now. not when he could feel himself getting closer from the death grip your pussy has on him, not when he can feel himself about to knock you up. “look at me.”

your eyes shoot open, despite the signals from your body telling you to keep them closed, lose yourself in the pleasure. you wouldn’t dare to disobey your boyfriend, not like this. so, of course, you lock your eyes with his, his cock still bullying its way deeper into you. kei savors the scrunched up, dirty look on your face, that of one he hasn’t seen before.

were you enjoying this that much? even if you didn’t know his intentions, were you finding pleasure in the thought of getting pregnant now, by him?

“i’m gonna finish inside,” kei states, and it’s not a request, nor a demand. it’s a simple statement, something he is going to do. you’re able to notice the passion, the need in his voice. and you think, for just a moment, that you understand his intentions.

however, the rough pounding he’s giving you leaves no time for thought.

“mm—finish in me, tsukki,” you motivate him, trying your damnedest to maintain the eye contact with him, “m’gonna cum too!” your voice pitches higher, and kei’s sure whoever’s trying to sleep on the other side of the wall probably hates him right now. but he doesn’t really care, no. he’s determined.

“yeah? close, hmm?” tsukishima teases, finally, in between heavy pants. you nod your head pathetically, not even asking for permission as you clench around him again and cum all over his cock. he’s learned you so well, he can tell when you cum, and he only speeds up the pace of his thrusting to fuck you through it.

at the sound of your pretty noises, kei loses himself, letting the feeling inside snap. thick, white ropes of his cum fly out and stick to your insides, you can feel the extra warmth from it all—it’s hotter than your insides, somehow. even as his pace slows, the thrusts remain just as hard; fucking into you all the way, he’s overstimulating the both of you. all for his greedy, reckless desires.

something had gotten into kei tsukishima, and he knew what it was now. it was all an insatiable, needy scratch inside his brain, only to be helped when in a few weeks, you take that plastic test in the bathroom of his dorm, and those two pink lines show up. he’d only be helped then.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima smut

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hhoneylemon · 2 months ago

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‘cause i lo-lo-love the chase

summary: you finally kiss your best friend after burgers and slushies. he’s ecstatic. 2k words.

inspired by this song and post

mark is sick to his stomach.

he feels like a pervert. every time you hang out, he’s watching you. he watches the way your face lights up as you laugh, how you apply lip balm every now and then, the face you make when you focus on the show playing on the tv.

his crush on you is embarrassing. could he even call it a crush at this point? he’d throw himself in front of a car for you. you probably wouldn’t even feel special if he said that, he’d do that for any civilian to make sure they were safe. feelings suck.

is it enough that he waits when each seance dog episode comes out so he can watch it with you when you’re free? he stays off of social media until then, opting for going flying, studying extra, watching random shows he’s never heard of. the gritting feeling of want and anticipation are almost unbearable. note the word almost; the way you ask him to explain something to you, listening to his dorky ramble, the way you sit side-to-side with him on the couch while watching, the way you give truthful opinions about the episode you’d just watched with him. you make it all worth it.

he loves you. he realized he did a long time ago, then decided to hold that in him and ‘wait for the right time.’ he regrets that sentiment when he watches you go out with other guys, a harsh grip squeezing his heart just to throw it to the ground and stepping on it repeatedly.

at least the relationships never lasted. at least he was always there to pick you back up with a hug and the offer to watch a terrible movie to get over it. it’s never failed to work.

now, mark sits on your bedroom floor as he scribbles down the answers to your current homework assignment. you sit on your bed, hands thrown up as you complain about one of your teachers. he’s only half listening, trying to focus on the work to complete it.

“and she lost the paper, but somehow it’s my fault? now i’m knocked down a whole letter grade because she isn’t good at her job. i literally have a witness who saw me turn it in.”

mark nods in response, finishing his paper. he leans his head back onto your mattress, looking up at you. he offers a dopey grin. you offer a small smile in exchange before sliding off the bed and sitting beside him on the floor.

“sounds shitty. i hope you can do make up work to bring it up.”

“yeah.”

you murmur in response, grunting in annoyance. mark takes a moment to soak your image into his memory. the setting sun is casting a golden glow onto your skin, illuminating and shadowing the right parts of your face. he finds his mouth has gone dry.

“it’s almost dinnertime. you might wanna get home to your mom, mark.”

you twist to face him better, a kind warmth appearing on your face. he nods, almost disappointed. he grabs his school bag, standing with a little grunt of effort. you stand and follow him to your window, unlocking it for him as he slips into the straps of his bag. he smiles at you with a sickening sweetness.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

you nod as he climbs out, watching him with quiet fondness. the way the soft breeze ruffles his hair has you in a chokehold, the puppy-like look on his face as he debates leaving or staying longer in his mind. he hovers off of your room, feet kicked behind his thighs as he looks at you.

“yeah. burger mart, right?”

he grins, nodding. the way his eyes crinkle at the corners has your heart beating a little faster.

“yep, sounds good. bye!”

mark takes off into the sky. you watch him until you’ve lost sight of him. that’s when you close and lock your window, sitting on your bed and pulling out your phone while waiting until you hear your mom calling you to come eat dinner.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

mark hates his life.

he kept you waiting! he got sidetracked stopping a bank shooting as invincible. he was twenty minutes late as he jogged into burger mart, scanning the tables to try and find you.

you sat alone in a booth in the far corner, sipping on a slushy. he slides into the seat across from you, offering an apologetic look.

“sorry, i was superhero-ing.”

“all good.”

you grin, biting at your bottom lip. a few chuckles escape you as you point at him.

“your, uh, shirt is backwards.”

mark looks down. the pattern of his tee was missing, not to mention the tag sticking out of his collar. he sighs, ears turning red in embarrassment. he then struggles with sliding his arms into his sleeves and turning the shirt around, fixing it. you smile in amusement the whole time, holding back a laugh. he was cute. and a loser.

“ugh. whatever. what do you want to eat, i’ll pay for it.”

your eyes widen at his words, shaking your head.

“you don’t have to, it’s okay.”

you begin standing, only for him to hold up a hand. he rises to his feet and shimmies out of the booth, already pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

“no, it’s okay. i don’t mind, really.”

you nibble on your bottom lip, but give in anyways. you tell mark your usual order and he walks to the counter to order. he comes back in a few minutes, an exasperated look on his face.

“i’m so glad i don’t work here anymore. the cashier looked like her life was sucked outta her. i know the feeling.”

you laugh in response, relaxing into the booth. you forgot what it was like to hang out with mark. it was like a warm hug; comforting and safe, you could tell him anything and he would only mildly judge you, then he would offer terrible advice after.

one of the employees beings over a paper bag that contained your food. the two of you spend a long time chatting in the booth, long after you finish eating. mark only ushers you out after he noticed his old manager had clocked in.

“i wasn’t done my slushy.”

you complain, walking beside him down the street. he offers an apologetic smile.

“we can get one from somewhere else. there’s a 7/11 a few blocks down?”

“sounds good.”

he nods, the two of you falling back into a comfortable silence. you travel downtown, finding the 24 hour store that hides with a few unused buildings. a nail salon sits beside it, currently closed after a villain was thrown through one of the walls. across the street is a parking garage, presumably for the places people work at down the block.

mark grabs your wrist, pulling you into the 7/11 with a laugh.

“what’s so interesting about the parking garage? you scared tether tyrant is hiding in there?”

you playfully roll your eyes, following him to the slushy machine. the blue raspberry is out of order, as always. the revelation makes mark groan and clutch his forehead, as if his two other favorite flavors aren’t in stock.

you grab a medium cup and reach for your favorite flavor, causing his nose to shrivel.

“be adventurous. get the root beer, it’s so good. trust.”

“i will not trust, mark.”

you laugh at him, filling the cup halfway. just to make him smile, you fill the other half with root beer. you get the desired outcome, mark’s face housing a gentle smile as he reaches for his own cup to fill.

when you got to the cashier, he cheated. he murmured something about tether tyrant in the parking garage—of course you looked outside, nervous, as though a superhero wasn’t standing right beside you. you looked back to berate him for tricking you, just to see he’s already paid.

he walks you outside with a grin, sipping from his slushy. you reach over and nudge his shoulder with your own, rolling your eyes.

“you’re insufferably a gentleman.”

he raises an eyebrow, a his grin turning teasing.

“such big words coming from you.”

you groan and massage your temples with your free hand. he’s such a dork.

the two of you lean against the wall of the 7/11, making small talk as you sip from your slushies. he had gotten mountain dew and cherry, his other two favorites. they stained his tongue a weird shade when he sticks it out at you after you poke fun of him. you smile weakly in turn.

maybe this would be your end. the sunset illuminating his features, him animatedly talking about who knows what, smelling like citrus and mint and something so incredibly mark.

you nervously fiddle with the pockets of your pants as you walk to the nearby trashcan. you throw your cup away before mark’s right at your side, throwing his away as well. his mouth is still moving, though you’ve long lost what he’s been saying. the two of you walk into the parking lot while he continues talking, and them he smiles.

oh, it’s devastating. your heart stutters in your chest. your brain stops working. you do something stupid.

your hands find his cheeks. his eyes widen and his mouth finally stops moving, his cheeks turning pink. you pull him close and your lips meet.

it’s slow, soft. his lips are cold from the slushy. he tastes like mountain dew and cherries. you feel him move, so you open your eyes and part your guys’ lips. mark’s eyes open in confusion, only to widen when you begin laughing.

“oh, mark.”

he’s confused. but, oh, are you shorter than usual? he looks closer and—he’s not even on the ground. his entire face flushes as he touches back down, hands gently resting on your hips.

“god, that’s embarrassing.”

“do i kiss that good? you gonna fly away if i do it again, fly boy?”

he averts his gaze for a moment, shutting his eyes. he can’t believe you’re bullying him over this—

“do it again?”

his eyes fly open and he turns to look at you. your own eyes widen in response, a tad of uncertainty appearing in your eyes and creeping around in your brain.

“shit, sorry. i won’t do it again, sorry, i just—“

mark leans in, lips pressing softly to yours. he gently sighs against you, savoring the flavor of you. he loves root beer.

he pulls away when he needs air, eyes fluttering open to take in the sight of you. you’re beautiful. he smiles big, happiness radiating off of him in waves.

“i can walk you home now.”

“alright.”

you walk beside him, walking the few blocks to get back to your house. he walks you all the way up to tour door before stopping you, grabbing you by the wrist. he offers a gentle smile.

“hey. i hope this means something. like—i can take you out soon?”

a smile hints at your lips. you nod, arms wrapping around his neck.

“sounds good.”

mark leans in and kisses you for a third time that night. this time, his lips can’t help but form a smile. he can’t help if he lifts off the ground again, either. he also can’t help that he brought you up with him, slowly spinning the two of you together.

he drops back down, thumbs gently rubbing against the flesh of your hips. his forehead finds yours as he bites his bottom lip.

“same time on friday?”

you snort, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“sure thing, fly boy.”

masterlist

#mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #mark grayson #invincible #gn reader #fem reader #male reader #fluff

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cherry-coffees · 2 months ago

Text

Head Over Heels

academic rival!Caitlyn x reader

cw: 7.7K words | 18+ mdni, academic rivals, college AU, rivals to lovers, drunken confessions, college parties, mentions of drinking, kissing/oral sex/tribbing, top!Caitlyn, slight praise kink, fluff and smut with angst if you squint

Part 1 | Part 2

You get the party invitation on a Thursday night.

“Did you see this?” Your roommate, Powder, squeals as she enters the dorm room, shaking the leftover rainwater off of her boots before setting them on the shoe rack by the door. She emerges into the double room that you share, holding up a small piece of paper. “Someone slipped this under our door. There’s a huge rager tomorrow, and they’re letting anyone in.”

You’re sitting on your bed, your laptop open to some homework that’s due in a few hours. “I don’t know,” you straighten up to stretch out your back. “Ragers aren’t that fun. Everyone’s just drunk and messy.”

“That’s why you’ve got to get drunk and messy,” Powder grins, stepping over to your bed to tug at one of your blankets teasingly.

You just roll your eyes, barely glancing up from your assignment. “And get super hung over so that I throw up all night? No thanks.”

“Come on,” Powder’s voice turns whiny as she pouts. She hugs the edge of your bed frame as she flashes you her signature puppy-eyes. “Please? We can get ready and walk together. And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone you like there.”

You don’t miss the insinuation in her tone. “I don’t need to like someone,” you claim, tapping away on the keys of your laptop. Though, you can’t help the brief flash that goes through your mind: the memory of Caitlyn guiding you around the ice rink in her arms and holding your hand as you walked back to the dorms.

That was the last time you saw her outside of class. Caitlyn Kiramman: the girl who once seemed to be the most annoying person in all of Runeterra, your fiercest academic rival, had now claimed a soft spot of her own in your heart. You hate to admit it, you really do. But you can’t deny that she’s gradually taken up more and more space in your mind over the past week or so, carving her initials into her mind like she’s staking a claim on your affections. Maybe she is.

Powder, of course, doesn’t know this — given as she’s not the biggest fan of Caitlyn herself. All she knows is the way you used to vent about her like you were getting paid. Now, you can’t seem to stop thinking about her like you’re getting paid.

“Of course you don’t,” Powder huffs, maintaining her puppy eyes. “Just— please? You need to get out more, get away from studying all the time.”

“Fine.” You can’t help but give in to your roommate’s demands. You’ve always been too fond of her. “I’ll go. Just let me finish my homework.”

You ignore her cheer of celebration, opting to turn back to your unfinished work. Maybe the party will be a good distraction from all your feelings towards a certain Councilor’s daughter.

|------» ~~~ «------|

“You okay?”

“Huh?” You glance up from where you’ve been taking notes on what your professor’s been lecturing about in class today. You had barely noticed when he called for a five minute break, the other students chatting amicably around you.

“You looked like you were spacing out,” Caitlyn’s icy blue eyes are laser-focused on you right now as she tilts her head in question. Her navy blue ponytail swings to the side, and gods, why does she look so good with a messy updo? It’s unfair, really. Who gave this girl so much beauty?

“Oh,” you blink, shaking your head slightly as if to clear the fog from it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long day.”

“I see,” Caitlyn murmurs, her gaze seeming to study you. Strangely, you feel the urge to squirm under it. Holy shit, what is happening to you? Thankfully, she continues to speak. “You should sleep earlier tonight. Get some rest.”

“Ah,” you bite the inside of your cheek, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall of the classroom once more. “I was going to, but my roommate’s dragging me to some party.”

Caitlyn’s dark eyebrows furrow, trying to discern if she’s heard about this before. “Party?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, leaning your elbows on the desk in front of you. “Some huge rager. Everyone will be there, according to her. I think she just wants me to meet people or whatever.”

Meet people.

Those two words stick out in Caitlyn’s mind, and her not-so-helpful brain decides to conjure up an image of you in some hot dress being hit on by all these guys. Or girls. Or anyone, really.

She doesn’t like it.

“Meet people as— as friends, or…?” Caitlyn chooses her words carefully, not wanting to tip you off as to why she’s so curious about this in the first place. That would lead to a very long, awkward conversation about her feelings for you, and she has no idea what your response would be. Maybe you’d be weirded out and never talk to her again, and that would be the worst case scenario.

“I guess,” you shrug, eyes dropping back down to look back through your carefully-taken notes. “It’s whatever. I’ll just go for a little and ditch when everyone gets too drunk to function.”

“Right,” Caitlyn clears her throat. She can’t help the words that fall from her lips in that moment: too focused on the possibility of someone winning you over tonight. “I’m actually going, too.”

You glance back up at her, thoroughly confused. Hadn’t she just asked you what party you were talking about? “You are?”

“Yeah,” she nods enthusiastically, and once she’s started talking, she can’t seem to stop. “I think I heard about it earlier in the week. I forgot about it, but if your roommate says that everyone will be there, then I should go too. My friend will, um, be there. Probably.”

You can’t help but smile in spite of yourself. Caitlyn’s always so composed and proper with that posh accent of hers, but somehow, she’s grown more awkward around you lately: fumbling her words like a pre-teen talking to their crush for the first time.

You quickly blink away that thought as soon as it occurs. You can’t even entertain the idea that the way Caitlyn’s been acting around you is something akin to a crush. Sure, she taught you how to skate last week, but…

But that doesn’t mean she has a crush on you. No, that can’t be possible.

“Oh,” you chew on your bottom lip for a moment. Now, you have a whole other worry about tonight: the worry that Caitlyn is going to be there. So much for a distraction from your growing feelings for her. “I guess I’ll see you there, then.”

“Yeah,” Caitlyn’s eyes are drawn to your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling a sudden spark of desire flicker in her chest. As the professor stands back up to continue on with class, she turns back to her own notes. “I’ll see you then.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

Clang!

You curse silently, bending down to pick up the hanger that had fallen from your closet. You’ve been going through outfit ideas for the past twenty minutes, unsure of what you should wear to a huge college party. A dress seems too formal, but you don’t want to be too casual either.

And now? Now that Caitlyn, your longtime academic rival turned crush, is going to be there? You have to look decent.

“Why are you so stressed?” Powder leans over your shared sink, applying shiny, blue eyeshadow to her eyelids.

You huff, continuing to rummage through your clothes. “I don’t know what to wear. I can’t look like a mess.”

“You didn’t even want to come until I forced you.”

“Yeah, well,” you roll your eyes. “Things change. Now, what the hell am I supposed to wear?”

Powder pauses her makeup, coming up beside you took look inside your closet. “That top’s cute,” she comments, pointing to a light, blue-grey top. The upper half of the top is solid material, while the bottom half that covers your abdomen is a soft mesh. It’s strapless: highlighting your collarbone just right.

You consider this, grabbing the hanger from the closet rack. “What bottom would go with it, though?”

“Maybe a skirt,” Powder ponders out loud, shuffling through the hangers until she finds a short, black skirt. The sides are laced up to accentuate your waist, and the length is short enough to be suggestive without being explicit. It pairs extremely well with the lighter top — though you hate to admit that Powder was right.

“Thanks,” you mumble, taking the skirt as well and darting off to change. Sue you if you want to look presentable in front of half the school.

Though, it’s really only about one person.

|------» ~~~ «------|

“Stop tugging at your hair,” Powder elbows you as you walk up the steps to the party’s location: a big house that’s a few blocks from your dorm. “You’ll mess it up.”

You stop at her protest, opting to adjust the face-framing strands on either side of your cheeks instead. “Okay, okay. Let’s just go in, already.”

At that moment, both of you enter through the unlocked front door of the house. It’s already wild: music blasting and red solo cups full of alcohol being passed around. There’s a group of people crowded in one of the common areas, dancing in front of the speakers, and couples paired up around the place to make out.

You can barely hear anything, not knowing where to go as Powder pats your shoulder. She says something about wanting to say ‘hi’ to some people before she darts off, leaving you alone in the middle of the party.

You just roll your eyes, heading off to find the kitchen. As much as you don’t want to be around your totally-wasted peers, you’re not sure if you can make it through the night without having a few drinks yourself.

As you manage to find the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of what looks like vodka, you thankfully recognize someone you know from one of your classes last semester. “Mel!” You wave her over, grinning at the sight of your friend.

“Hey!” Mel greets you cheerfully, gold dust adorning her cheeks. “You look amazing.”

“You’re gorgeous,” you beam at her. “As always. I’m so glad I know someone here.”

“Know someone? Almost everyone is here,” Mel laughs, clinking her cup with yours. “Let’s just relax and have a good time. Yes?”

“Yes.” You sip from your cup, making a face of disgust as soon as the vodka hits your tastebuds. This is going to be a long night.

|------» ~~~ «------|

It turns out, in fact, to not be such a long night. It’s a very short one, actually.

You’ve had alcohol before, but not like this. You aren’t even aware of how much you’ve had — it’s hard to calculate how many shots deep you are when you had poured some vodka into a red solo cup without thinking. You’re laughing with Mel and a few of the friends she’s introduced you to before you feel a tap on your shoulder. You spin around, your smile slowly turning into an expression of surprise.

“Oh,” your breath catches as you come face-to-face with Caitlyn. She’s dressed differently, too, with her light-wash ripped jeans and cropped, navy blue top that’s held up by thin spaghetti straps. Her matching navy hair falls to her shoulders. And, with her icy-blue gaze piercing yours, you only have one thought.

Oh, I’m so screwed.

“Hey,” Caitlyn’s eyes are practically glued to you, too busy taking in your appearance to notice your reaction to her own. “Um, I hope I’m not interrupting. I just wanted to say ‘hi.’"

You shake your head, quick to reassure her. The alcohol hasn’t hit super hard yet, so unfortunately, your nerves of being around her still surface. “You’re not; don’t worry.”

“Good.” Caitlyn can’t help it when her stare travels down to take in your exposed legs and back up to your shoulders and collarbone. “You look…”

She trails off, and you really hope the flush on your cheeks is from the vodka instead of her. “Thanks,” you mumble, shifting in your black, platform boots. Even with the added height, you’re still short compared to her 6’1” stature. “I love your top.”

“Oh, thank you." Caitlyn seems to realize that she’s staring. She clears her throat, tugging at one of the straps of the mentioned top and eyeing the red solo cup in your hand. She hesitates, not wanting to be too forward. "Did you end up meeting people like your roommate wanted?”

It’s the question that’s been on Caitlyn’s mind ever since she had seen you in class several hours ago. Gods, she really hopes that you haven’t met anyone that you’re interested in flirting with — or even worse: hooking up with. That’s the last thing that she wants.

You sigh, shaking your head. “That was just an excuse to get me to come with her. I’ve just been talking to my friend,” you assure her, gesturing back towards where Mel is standing with a few other people.

Caitlyn’s stomach swoops with relief, her shoulder loosing a little tension. “Well, if that’s the case, do you want to maybe dance together?”

In all honesty, being tipsy around Caitlyn is not a great idea, but you nod anyways. More so, you just don’t want to say no to her. How could you ever? “Yeah, sure.”

Caitlyn starts to turn towards the direction of the living room, but she pauses when she glances back at you again. This time, it’s her turn for her cheeks to flush pink. “Okay,” she mumbles before hesitantly reaching out, slipping her hand into yours.

Your heart flips in your chest as you allow her to lace her fingers with yours. You glance up at her, almost questioning. As if to ask: is this an okay thing to do?

Memories come flooding back to you, even in your tipsy haze in the middle of this huge party. Caitlyn taking you ice skating, teaching you how to skate when you admitted to not knowing how to, buying you hot chocolate and walking back to your dorm. How warm her fingers had felt intertwined with yours against the cold, winter air. It was the first time you saw her as more than your academic rival — as someone you could actually develop feelings for.

The corners of Caitlyn’s lips twitch into a slight smile, and she squeezes your hand ever so slightly. It’s a silent response. She just tugs you forward, back towards the common area where people are surrounding the speakers, moving around to the beat of the music.

You follow her as she makes her way into the crowd. Once you’re closer to the speakers, Caitlyn spins around to face you, flashing you a grin that would make you go weak at the knees if you weren’t so out of it right now. She lifts your linked hands above your head, twirling you just to make you giggle. The space between you doesn’t last long: the distance minimizing as the crowd forces the two of you together. You stay like that for a few songs: just laughing and having fun together.

The alcohol hits you mid-way: everything suddenly feeling a lot more foggy than usual. Somewhere in the haze, Caitlyn’s hands find their way to your waist, supporting you in the increasingly hot and stuffy room. You feel a rush of gratitude as you lean on her for support. Though, as your sobriety starts to lower, so does your filter.

As Caitlyn feels your weight on her, she lifts her hands to cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards her in concern. “Are you okay? You seem quite tipsy, darling.”

Darling.

It’s the first time she’s called you that, called you anything besides 'annoying' or 'infuriating' to your face. It sounds so right in that accent of hers that just screams luxury. So you can’t help the intoxicated smile that graces your features, your head leaving her hold as it fully rests on her chest. “I like that,” your words are barely audible over the loud music.

“You like what?” Caitlyn bites her lip. She’s unsure of what you mean, and she’s even more unsure of what to do now that your head is on her chest. It’s something straight out of one of her recent dreams (though, admittedly, those usually involved quieter, more intimate settings). Now, surrounded by many of your university peers, she doesn’t know what to do. You’ve clearly had a little too much to drink.

“You calling me that,” you hum, finding some weird contentment amongst the chaos. Somehow, when you’re practically nestled against your academic rival, no one else seems to matter. “It’s nice.”

“Ah—“ Caitlyn’s eyes widen, her words getting caught in her throat. Sure, she’s held your hand twice now, but this implies something more. It implies that you like her more than just academic rivals turned friends. “You’re drunk,” she exhales, her hands moving to your waist again.

“And you’re warm,” you nudge your nose into her neck, which seems very warm and very appealing right now.

Caitlyn has to swallow thickly and take a deep breath in order to compose herself. It’d be so easy to bring her lips to yours right now, to take you away from this party and have you in the way she’s wanted to for so long — but she doesn’t. You’re drunk, and if there’s one thing Caitlyn values, it’s your consent.

But oh, how she wants.

“We should—“ her voice shakes slightly. “We should get you out of here. You’re drunk, and I don’t want you to get hurt or—“

“You’re sweet,” you mumble, barely noticing as Caitlyn gently moves you back through the throng of people. “But I wanna dance.”

“I know, darling, but we can dance another time. I’m going to walk you back to your dorm now, okay?”

“What?” You tilt your head in an almost-protest as she guides you towards the door. “You don’t have to do that. ‘M fine.”

“No,” Caitlyn’s tone is gentle, but she’s firm in her decision. She pushes open the front door, ushering you into the cold, night air. “I want to, so please let me. Just let me take care of you.”

“Mnh–“ You're not in any state to argue as she leads you out of the house. "'Kay."

|------» ~~~ «------|

It’s not long before you’re fumbling for your keys outside your dorm, attempting to stick the key in the doorknob a few times before you can unlock it. It opens with a click, and you stumble over to the light switch.

Caitlyn keeps a firm hand on your arm as she shuts the door and guides you over to your bed. Now that the room is illuminated with light, she takes in the decor. Soft, fuzzy blankets are piled on your bed, and printed-out photos adorn the wall next to it. In between the strands of fairy lights that glow faintly, she can see the camera-ready smiles of your family and friends. Cute.

She helps you into your lofted bed, in your party outfit and all since you’re in no mood to get ready for bed. Once she’s sure that you’re settled and laying down, Caitlyn crosses the room, turning the lights back off and fishing in the cabinets under the sink for a paper bag. When she finds one, she sets it next to your water bottle on the desk beside your bed. “If you have to throw up, just use this, okay?”

Your eyes are half-closed already as you glance at her hazily from your pillows. “M’kay.”

“Right,” Caitlyn mumbles. “Goodnight, then.” She lingers by your bed for a second, unwilling to leave you. She doesn’t want you to be alone, but staying in her crush’s room when she’s drunk would be inappropriate. After a few moments, she sighs reluctantly, moving to the door.

“Caitlyn?”

Her head whips back to look at you in an almost comical speed. “Yes?”

Your eyes slip shut, already half-asleep. “You’re really pretty.”

“Um,” a pink hue springs up on Caitlyn’s cheeks almost immediately. “Thank you. But you should probably get some rest—“

“You don’t get it.” You huff almost indignantly, eyes still closed. In your tipsy state, you don’t comprehend how she’s not understanding. “You’re really pretty. Whoever you’re with is so lucky.”

…

What?

“Whoever I’m—?“ Caitlyn chokes out in complete surprise, her eyes blown wide. She takes a few steps until she’s beside your bed again. Your expression is sleepy and relaxed: giving nothing away. “What do you mean?”

Unfortunately, the land of dreams is calling to you, and you’re only conscious enough to let out a sleepy hum in response. Seconds later, and you’re gone.

Caitlyn stands frozen in the middle of your dorm room. What the fuck was that? What did your words even mean? You probably just meant that whatever girl she dated was lucky to have someone to walk her home.

Or, her brain supplies helpfully, she could have meant that any girl that I date is lucky because she gets me entirely.

You couldn’t have meant that. Could you?

But the more Caitlyn stands alone in the dark room, pondering the hidden meaning behind your drunken words, the less she can deny the obvious. You have to feel something, you just have to. Up until a few weeks ago, all you would do is glare at her whenever she walked into a classroom. But now…

Now, something has changed. She casts a final glimpse back at you before she’s stepping out into the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind her.

She’ll be damned if she doesn’t find out what that something is.

|------» ~~~ «------|

You wake up with a pounding headache.

Shit. You hadn’t wanted to go to this party in the first place because of all the drunk idiots. How had you turned into one of them?

You bring a hand up to rub at your temples, trying to recall what had happened last night. Arriving with Powder, laughing with Mel, vodka, and… oh.

Caitlyn.

It doesn’t take long to recall the basics. How she had complimented you in your outfit, taken your hand to lead you to dance, how you had ended up leaning against her chest until she walked you back to your dorm.

Your stomach drops, in particular, as you remember your parting words to her. Whoever she’s with is lucky? You might has well have just shouted from the rooftops that you’re in love with her. Gods, what have you done?

You sit upright in bed, wincing as your head continues to pound. No vomiting, thankfully, but you sure as hell need water and a few Advil pills right now.

Once you’ve retrieved the essentials in your bathroom, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Makeup smeared, messy hair, and your outfit from last night still clinging to your tired form. You groan, grabbing a makeup wipe as well before you walk past a sleeping Powder and back to your bed — where your phone awaits.

You have several message notifications from various friends and classmates. Some from Mel, asking where you had gone last night, and some from your family at home. Most noticeably, a single notification sits at the top of your screen.

Caitlyn Kiramman: Hey. How are you feeling?

You curse silently as so not to wake Powder, biting your tongue as you think of what you could possibly say to the girl you were fawning over last night.

Hey. I’m okay.

You hesitate, your thumbs pausing over your phone keyboard before you send a follow-up message.

Thanks for helping me last night.

You stare at your screen, waiting on bated breath for her response. You see the little three dots pop up on her end, indicating her typing. Yet, seconds later, it disappears. You barely have time to frown down at your phone screen before it reappears.

Caitlyn Kiramman: No problem.

Then, silence.

That was it?

Your phone screen fades to black as you set it face-down on your desk. You lay down on your bed, bringing your knees to your chest to curl up in fetal position. Maybe you did ruin everything. Back when the two of you were just academic rivals, such short conversations were the norm (though they were far more passive aggressive).

However, in recent times, Caitlyn had been much more attentive over text. It’s yet another one of the things you’ve come to love about her: when her perfectly-poised composure falters, and you can see the awkward girl underneath. It’s endearing. And now— now, you have a hangover, and an empty stomach, and Caitlyn is being dry after your subtle confession.

You will yourself into sleeping for another few hours, tossing and turning as your mind fills with thoughts of her and only her. How good, how right it had felt when you were pressed against her, and how much you had hoped to feel that again. When the images of all the possibilities that could entail flood your mind, you finally open your eyes again.

“What’s with you?” Powder asks groggily from across the room, sitting up in bed with a blue tuft of hair falling in front of her face. “It’s not even ten, but you can’t even lay still.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, staring at your turned-off phone as if you can physically will another text to come through. Namely, from a certain navy-haired sharpshooter.

“Did something happen at the party?” Powder guesses correctly, her tone not unkind as she eyes your expression. “C’mon, you can tell me.”

“You won’t like my answer.”

“I won’t?” She tilts her head, curiosity peaked. “Well, now you have to tell me.”

You just sigh, too tired to push back. “It’s Caitlyn.”

“Caitlyn Kiramman?” Powder wrinkles her nose. She’s not fond of Caitlyn — often chalking her up to some rich girl that thrives off of her mother’s money and name. “Your academic rival? Who cares about her? Don’t let her work you up; you’re better than her.”

“She’s not—“ you cut yourself off, reminding yourself that you’re supposed to be explaining rather than defending the woman. “Look. I know you don’t like her. But she’s the one who helped me back here last night. She’s walked me home and paid for me and been so sweet and respectful towards me. As I’ve spent more time with her, I— well, I guess I—“

“You like her,” Powder finishes. Her gaze is just a tinge softer than when you had started.

You drop your head, staring at the blankets covering your lap. “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a few moments before Powder continues carefully. “So…what happened?”

“I fucked things up,” your response is immediate, and unwanted tears burn your eyes. You know it's stupid to cry over this, but being hung over is not helping. “I think she knows I like her. I was so messy last night, and I’m worried that I crossed a line and that now she hates me.”

Too busy staring at your bed, you don’t notice Powder getting up until a soft thump is heard from her side of the room. Your eyes dart up to see her weary form cross over to your bed. “Look,” she pats your knee. “This isn’t me saying that I like her — or that you should be with her. But I think you should talk to her. Otherwise, you’re never going to know.”

“Do I even want to know if she hates me?”

Powder just shakes her head. “Look, I doubt that she hates you. If she’s really done all the things you say she has, then it sounds like she likes you too.”

You hesitate, picking at your fingernails anxiously. “She’s just always been... more forward than I am, I guess. Then I make a drunken confession and she isn’t acting the same.”

“Then isn’t it your turn to be forward?”

A beat passes before you nod slowly. Powder’s words make sense. As much as you dislike the anxiety of actually confessing to Caitlyn, you owe her as much after all she’s done for you. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Powder grins, evidently happy that you’re actually listening to her. “Then go find her.”

“Like this?” You pout slightly, gesturing to your outfit and messy hair — though your face is now clean from the previous makeup.

“Yeah, the outfit’s cute. Because I picked it out, of course.”

“Alright, alright,” you can’t help a roll of your eyes, finally succumbing to the urge to pick up your phone and send a message.

Can we talk?

|------» ~~~ «------|

You find Caitlyn on a bench outside of her dorm building.

It’s nice out, especially for winter: the sun warming you despite the cold air. She had responded to your text only a few minutes after you had sent it, so you’re still wearing the same outfit from the party — as Powder had suggested.

Caitlyn doesn’t miss this detail. Her blue eyes seem to shine in the sunlight as her gaze flits over your top and short skirt, though her eyes flick back to yours a second later. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you respond quietly, sitting on the opposite side of the bench. There’s distance between you two: distance you long to close. But you don’t. Instead, it’s quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being the distant sounds of other college students walking around the campus.

“I want to apologize,” you shift slightly, head turning slightly upwards to meet her eyes. “I wasn’t paying attention to how much I was drinking last night, and I was careless. I’m sorry if anything happened that crossed any boundaries.”

Caitlyn shakes her head. “No…” she starts, then clears her throat. “No. You didn’t upset me or do anything bad. It’s okay.”

“Okay…” you trail off, having no idea where to go with this. It’s quiet again, and your stomach swoops with nerves. “I also, um, wanted to talk about what I said in my room last night.”

“Yeah,” Caitlyn exhales, strands of navy hair escaping her messy ponytail. “I had some questions about it, but I wanted to let you rest.”

“Thank you for that,” your voice lowers into a mumble. “But, well, I meant what I said.” You turn your body to fully face her on the bench. If you’re going to confess, you’re going to at least do it properly.

“You did…?” Caitlyn repeats slowly, almost a question.

“I know we’ve always been rivals,” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “And we always fought each other for the top grades, but then we got to know each other and went skating that night. And somewhere along the way, the old feelings faded, and I really saw you as a person. I liked you as a person. So when everything got hazy last night, I guess I just was a lot more honest about it.”

“Wait, so,” Caitlyn’s sharp features narrow, as if she’s trying to discern what you mean. “You like me as a person. Does that mean—?”

“I like you,” your lips curve into half smile, looking up at her almost shyly now in spite of your anxiety. “A lot. I was just worried that I messed things up last night because you didn’t feel the same. And if you don’t, it’s okay, we can still be friends and—“

“Wait,” Caitlyn gently interrupts you, placing a hand on your arm as your words halt. “Why would you think that I don’t feel the same?” Her eyes implore yours questioningly.

“I—“ You stumble in your words, your cheeks growing hot under her gaze. You don’t really have a reason as to why she wouldn’t return your feelings, but of course if you’re nervous to confess to your crush. “I don’t know.”

Caitlyn has to bite back a smile as her heart soars at your shyness. It’s adorable, and she couldn’t ask for anything more. “Of course I like you. It’s why I wanted to go skating with you in the first place. All that bullshit I made up about a competition,” she mindlessly traces circles on your arm. “I just wanted to spend time with you.”

You freeze, words failing you. All that comes out of your mouth is a small, “oh,” and Caitlyn smiles fully at this.

“And when I went to the party, I just went because I knew you’d be there. Maybe it was selfish,” she admits, “but I wanted to be the one to take you home at the end of the night. Not anyone else.”

Your cheeks continue to darken, and your eyes drop, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t want anyone else to, either.”

Instead of a verbal response, you feel a light pressure under your chin, and your eyes widen when Caitlyn tilts your head up with a single finger to meet her eyes. Gods, that’s hot. “So, if we only want to be with each other in…that way, maybe we should be.”

“Yeah,” your eyes curve up into little eye-smiles that Caitlyn may or may not be totally obsessed with. “I think so.”

“So, let me do this properly then,” Caitlyn announces suddenly, standing in her casual hoodie and jeans before reaching out her hands to help you up off the bench. When you place your hands in hers, she gently guides you to your feet. She doesn’t let go, only closing the distance between the two of you with her hands holding yours. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” you beam, barely able to restrain yourself from bouncing on your toes in compete joy. It’s what you’ve been dreaming of — what you’ve both been dreaming of — for weeks now. You feel sixteen all over again: enthralled by the joys of young love.

Caitlyn’s expression matches yours: sparkling eyes and cheeks hurting because she’s smiling so hard. “I really want to kiss you,” she confesses, bringing one of her hands up to cradle your jaw while the other remains in yours. “But I know we’re still on campus.”

“Who cares?” You just shake your head, far past the point of giving two shits about who sees. It’s just a kiss: people can deal with it.

That’s all the permission that Caitlyn needs before she’s leaning down to capture your lips with hers. It’s a sweet, innocent kiss at first: both of you smiling and giggling too much to get anywhere else. But gods, it feels so nice, and you force yourself to contain your happiness just so you can do it all over again.

Caitlyn seems to be following the same thought pattern, and she uses the hand that’s holding yours to tug you flush up against her chest. The new angle allows for your lips to meet in a deeper kiss, her tongue teasing at the seam of your lips. Her height advantage allows her to take most of the control, and your lips slant against hers as you return her kisses with equal fervor.

“Wait,” Caitlyn mumbles, reluctantly pulling away to catch her breath. Your lips chase hers, tugging into a pout at the feeling of being ripped away from her mouth. “I— we should probably move this somewhere else.”

“Your dorm?” You suggest, eyeing the building next to you. It’s the closest space that’s private — because of course Caitlyn Kiramman has a dorm to herself.

“We could,” Caitlyn’s tone is displeased as her gaze follows yours, evidently not satisfied with the idea. Why should she settle for a twin bed when she has a huge bed at her parents’ house? “Or…we could go back to my place.”

“With your parents?” You gape at her, slightly mortified. Her mother is the Councilor Cassandra Kiramman, and the last thing you want is for her to know about what you’re doing with her daughter. That’s the worst way to meet your new girlfriend’s parents.

“Relax,” Caitlyn huffs out a laugh, already pulling out her phone to call an uber. “They’re not home. Promise.”

“Okay,” you give into her wishes, leaning your cheek on her shoulder as she taps away on the screen. “I just want you.”

“Oh, darling,” Caitlyn tilts her head to the side to press a kiss to your forehead, and your body glows like you’re walking on sunshine. “I’m all yours from now on. And when we get back, you’re all mine.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

Caitlyn practically yanks the car door open when the driver pulls up to the Kiramman manor, mumbling out a hurried “thank you” before dashing over to your side. She’s clearly in a hurry: wanting to get you alone to make up for lost time. Though, she does, admittedly, insist on opening the front door for you so that you can enter first because Caitlyn Kiramman is nothing if not a perfect gentlewoman.

You barely register entering the house, barely register the walk up to her room. The only thing you’re focused on is when she leads you into her room, shutting the door and immediately pushing you against it. Her hand cups the back of your head, careful not to let it slam onto the wood: a tinge of tenderness in a heated moment.

Her lips are back on yours before you can even speak, her tongue wasting no time on finding its way past your lips. She explores your mouth like it’s something to be studied, taking careful time to entwine her tongue with yours. This pulls a soft whimper from you — one which Caitlyn swallows.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” she mumbles as her mouth breaks from yours: a single strand of saliva connecting the two. “Most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“That would— ah— be you!” You gasp, your head tilting back against the door as her lips move to kiss the corner of your jaw before they trail down to your neck.

Caitlyn doesn’t bite; she’s much too attentive to your wants and needs to risk anything that hurts right now. She’s a possessive woman, though, caused by being an only child who had all the wealth that she never had to share. So, in place of a love bite, her lips trace over your pulse point before darting her tongue out to meet it. She sucks softly at your skin, just hard enough to leave a mark that everyone will know is hers. More importantly, that you will know is hers.

Her hands are on a journey of their own, sliding down to your hips to give them a squeeze. “No one could ever compare to you,” Caitlyn mumbles against your neck in response to your last comment. “Can’t believe I have you now. I want to make you mine in all the ways I can.”

“I wouldn’t stop you,” you pant, helpless to do anything but take in just how good her mouth and hands feel all over you. Vaguely, you wonder how they’d feel in certain other places, too.

It’s not long before Caitlyn’s tugging you over to the bed, guiding you onto the mattress before moving on top of you. “Can I take this off, darling?” She tugs at your blue-grey top, making eye contact with you to ensure that this is what you really want.

You nod almost desperately, unable to wait much longer. “Yes. Yes, please.”

“Begging already,” Caitlyn hums, almost absentmindedly. Her naturally authoritative aura comes from her desire for control — in every sense of the word. You’ve noticed this about her, even fantasized about it, but you’ve never had it turned on you before. Gods, is it attractive.

Caitlyn makes quick work of your top, tugging it over your head before shrugging off her sweatshirt to reveal her bra underneath it. This makes you lean up on your elbows, eyeing her breasts like they’re something to be devoured. They are.

Caitlyn, meanwhile, is entirely focused on your now exposed bra. It’s a tiny, lacy little thing that you had chosen specifically to go under your party outfit from last night. She caresses the detailed edges, barely restraining herself from ripping off your skirt, too. Caitlyn could go feral just thinking about the likely matching panties that she bets show quite a decent amount.

She settles for unclasping your bra, instead, sliding it off to reveal your breasts. Caitlyn immediately brings her mouth to one of them, lavishing your nipple with her tongue while one of her hands comes up to pinch the other.

You grip onto her shoulder, your knuckles turning white with the pressure meant to offset the pure pleasure that’s coursing through your body. “Cait!” You gasp as her mouth parts from your nipple.

She watches it pebble under the cool air, gently blowing on it just to watch it harden for her. She coos at your gasp, too. “So perfect,” she murmurs. “So good for me.”

“Please, Cait, I need you!”

“Oh, you need me?” She reaches to undo her own bra and slip off her jeans. “How do you need me, darling? Tell me what exactly you need.”

“Anything,” you counter, your tone whiny and pleading. “Everything.”

“Anything and everything, huh?” Caitlyn muses, lifting your skirt just enough so she can see the wet spot in your black panties underneath. She reaches out to touch it, the light pressure of her finger making you gasp. Her eyes darken. “We’ll see about that.”

Your skirt’s being tossed to her bedroom floor in a flash, Caitlyn’s hands lifting your hips off the bed so she can tug your panties down. “Beautiful,” she breathes when she sees your fully exposed core, now dripping from how she had worked you up. She only admires it for a moment— diving in when her desire overwhelms her restraint.

You keen as her tongue meets you slick folds. You squirm, unable to keep your hips from jerking at the relentless onslaught of pleasure that your girlfriend’s giving you. Caitlyn, for her parent, rests her hands on your inner thighs, spreading them to give her better access to you.

She licks, sucks, and nips at your folds before she traces her tongue all the way up to circle around your clit, pulling another gasp from you. “That feels— mmnh— so good!” Your voice shakes, growing increasingly uneven as Caitlyn continues to toy with your sensitive nerves.

But at the height of it all, just when you’re about to come, she separates her mouth from your core with a small pop. You instantly whine in protest, shifting your hips back towards her talented mouth. Caitlyn just tuts at you, clicking her tongue in ways that make you clench around nothing. “Patience, darling. I want our first time to be together.”

Before you can even fully process what she means, she’s moving her hands back to her own body to slide her panties down her legs. Caitlyn throws them to the ground without a single spare glance, moving forward to balance herself on top of you. “Tell me, love, have you ever scissored with a girl before?”

You shake your head up at her, your eyes blurry from your building orgasm that had been denied.

“Oh, perfect,” she continues to coo. “Then let me show you how this goes, darling.”

When both of your legs spread and your dripping cunt meets hers, your mouth drops open. You’ve never felt pleasure like this before — even with how well she ate you out. Your eyes practically role back as you gasp out a moan.

Caitlyn also falters in her composure, hissing when she starts to continuously grind her slickness against yours. “Shit, you feel so good. Just like that. Just lay there and take it.”

And you do — half because you want to listen to her and half because you doubt that you’re physically capable of doing anything else. You won’t last long: not with the way Caitlyn’s shaky sighs and the movements of her hips combine to form the hottest image you’ve ever seen.

“I can’t!” You gasp after several more moments. “I can’t go much longer.”

“It’s okay,” Caitlyn’s exhale resembles more of a soft moan. She’s grinding her hips faster now, chasing her own release. “We’ll come together, okay darling? Just come for me, show me how good it feels.”

You come at her words, falling apart under her touch like you’ve wanted to do this whole time. Your hips move up desperately, riding out your delicious high while Caitlyn lets go with a grunt of her own.

A few seconds pass in which all the two of you can do is rut back against each other, stealing every last bit of pleasure that you can manage. When you start to come down from your orgasm, Caitlyn maneuvers herself next to lay next to you upon her silk sheets. She slings an arm across your torso, manicured fingers splaying across your abdomen.

You pant, still trying to catch your breath after your mind-blowing first time with Caitlyn. “You’re really good at that,” are the first words you manage out.

Caitlyn laughs, throwing her head back against the pillow in her own afterglow. “You’re a natural too. Best sex I’ve ever had,” she pauses to press a kiss to your cheek. Then a second. Then a third. “Best woman in the entirety of Runeterra. All for me, all mine.”

“Yes, all yours,” your laughter comes out as an amused, tired huff. “But I don’t know about me being a ‘natural.’ Sounds a little cliché.”

“Well then,” Caitlyn adjusts your positions so your head is tucked under her chin. She’s keeping you warm, safe, and protected — just how she likes it. “Guess we’ll have to practice some more.”

You smile against her collarbone before press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to it. “As much as you want.”

“Of course, my love,” Caitlyn lets out a deep, contented sigh, throwing the comforter over both of you and settling into her little cocoon. Silk sheets, plush comforter, and you. What else could she ever need?

“We have all the time in the world.”

Longest fic I've ever written! Glad it was for academic rival!Caitlyn...I love her sososo much!

Thank you for all the love on my fics lately, my lovelies. You guys are the sweetest, and I appreciate you so much <3

~Cherry 🍒

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