#professor nanami

[syllysmot]

You know I'm spending every last minute in that class

[slvttyplums]

corrupt professor nanami headcanons  (๑>◡<๑)

professor nanami subtly takes pictures up your skirt when helping you with stuff. 

professor nanami purposefully gives you bad grades so you’re forced to come to his office hours. 

professor nanami who tells you it’s normal to show up to your dorm room to help you with assignments. 

professor nanami makes you cockwarm him during office hours while he’s explaining where you went wrong in the assignment.

professor nanami who calls you out during lectures whenever he’s upset with you. 

professor nanami who knows you’re fucking the smartest guy in his class, nerdjo. 

professor nanami who likes fucking you against his desk, watching you trying to grab onto whatever you can when he’s going deep. 

professor nanami who got you switched out of another professor's class because it interfered with his. 

professor nanami who leaves hickies on your neck so he can stare at them throughout the lecture. 

professor nanami who made a burner instagram to watch you. 

professor nanami who passes you even though you’re shit at the class. 

professor nanami only has 3 lectures a week but makes you come in anyway through the week to fuck you. 

professor nanami who puts effort into his appearance for you so you can stare. 

professor nanami who makes you read while he’s behind you balls deep. 

professor nanami who calls you his smart girl. 

professor nanami who keeps a pair of your thongs in his pocket while he teaches. 

[sukuje]

𑣲 prof!nanami is desperate to suck on his favourite students' tits to relieve some stress

"and remember, this exam will make up two thirds of your final grade, so be sure to study well. i wish you all the best of luck for friday."

the familiar, deep voice rang through the auditorium before the lecture was dismissed. the students scramble away almost immediately, most of them off to the library to snatch a spot while there were still some seats left. it was exam season after all.

whilst you pack your laptop and various other papers into your bag, your mind is already a couple of steps ahead, debating whether you should skip dinner or sleep tonight, since you knew one would have to be sacrificed due to some much needed studying.

you had been so caught up in your thoughts you barely noticed being the last one left and as if on cue to the worries swirling through your head, that tall, yet unthreatening shadow looms over you. and just like that, the thoughts subsided as quickly as they had made their way into your mind.

before you even got to greet him, or so much as look up at him properly, nanami's lips were already planting his usual two kisses, one to the top of your head and one to your temple. 

it makes your heart fill with warmth and the corners of your lips curl up instantly whenever he does his little routine kisses. nanami was a creature of habit, he liked foreseeable things most and that included the two small mwah's he gave you without fail, even while half asleep.

however, there was one particular unforeseeable thing he didn't mind whatsoever. 

the way you walked into his life without a second thought, without him even realising it before he was already too deep in, too head over heels for the sweet, charming girl that somehow seemed to adore him the same way he adored and loved you (though he swears you couldn't possibly fathom the love his heart held for you.)

“mm, darling.” he hums against your hair, tilting his head back again to look down at you. his hands were quick to reach up and hold you, one on your waist whilst the other was brushing strands from your face that fell into those lovely features of yours when you had been busy putting your things away. 

“would you like going to that Italian place again after my office hours? we could get some of that tiramisu you were so eager to eat last time.” his suggestion sounded nothing short of salvation to your grumbling stomach. 

though you knew it’d take up too much of your time. driving there, eating, driving back and obviously talking and what not, would all stretch into a couple of hours. which you, sadly enough, didn’t posses. 

“kento, i’d really love to, you know i would… but you just reminded us yourself. exam’s this friday already. two damned thirds of our final grade. i have to study my ass off…” you explained, a bittersweet smile on your lips because your really did appreciate his offer. 

his thumb traced invisible, gentle circles on your waist where he held you, contemplating your words, aware how right you were. he really shouldn’t be distracting you from your studies. but who could blame him? 

he has been stressed too, piles and seemingly infinite piles of exams stacking up on his desk that he dreaded to correct and grade. his only hope had been you. 

spending some well deserved time with his sweet girl was the one thing he looked forward to above all whenever finishing his work, or well, when taking a break from it, since he was never really done. 

“right…” he murmured, disappointment flashing through his eyes before quickly composing himself again to meet your gaze. nanami wasn’t a selfish man, he really, truly wasn’t. everyone knew that. but maybe just this once it’d be alright…

“and if… we were to order and stay in my office? that way it wouldn’t take as long?” he offered with that handsome, sheepish grin of his when trying to persuade you of something. 

“you know you’ll get extra credits from me anyway, love, so don’t stress yourself because of the exam.”

the idea made your smile widen. that’s true. it wouldn’t take up as much time as the initial suggestion. and even though you were aware it’d still take away from your study time, you also desperately wanted to have some time with your boyfriend. 

plus that extra credit definitely sounded delicious enough to any student who felt the study stress crawling into their very skin during this time.

“sure, baby, that sounds nice. call me after hours?” a smile stretched on your lips, more earnest now and feeling a little more relieved.

lucky you to be getting this special treatment, huh. you sure felt glad you wouldn’t be fighting for a place at the stuffed library that seemed to reek of remorse and grief. 

nanami tensed shoulders eased slightly at your affirmation. thank God you went along with his idea, he had no idea how he’d make it to the end of this week being without at least a sliver of your presence. 

his arm wrapped around your waist to tug you a tad closer so he was able to lean down and press his lips to yours in a soft, needy kiss, lingering longer than necessary. a little taste of what was to come in a mere couple of hours.

“will do, love.” 

.

. 

.

the familiar scent of sandalwood and coffee, along with the oh-so gentle way he had you cradled in his lap, felt like a second home to you at this point. with how he had you pressed all close and tucked away to his chest, relishing in your scent and touch alone, how could you not melt? 

he nuzzled his nose to your neck, letting his breaths linger on your sensitive skin. 

all he desired was this. just this comfortable, safe closeness you offered him. had there ever even been a time when he had felt this relaxed without you? he genkirkuinely couldn’t think of a single moment. 

as his gaze flicked up to set on yours, a tired, yet tender smile spread across those lips you could keep kissing for hours on end (a fact you knew from experience ;)) 

“darling?” something shy of a purr left his pretty lips. 

“could we stay like this for at least a little while longer, love?” nanami uttered softly, eyes soft, exhaustion visibly etched into them. how could you dare decline him when he was asking so sweetly? being as needy and touchy as a kitten seeking comfort in their favourite embrace. 

“of course, baby…” 

with that, your hand that had been threading through his silky strands of messy hair gently drew his face closer to your chest until he was resting in his personal heaven. nanami was never shy to show you how much he cherished those lovely, warm titties of yours. 

God knows he was in absolute awe of them.

not only was he immediately nuzzling more into your cleavage that was (thankfully for him) shown off through the low cut blouse you decided to change into before coming to his office, but his hands already began tugging gently on the soft fabric of said blouse.

it made you chuckle, honestly, how he completely lost the strict professor demeanour he put on during his lectures and turned into the smitten man you knew and loved anytime he got to be alone with you. 

you took the hint of his gentle tugging, leaning back a little so you had space left to unbutton a couple more buttons of the light blue blouse, revealing the white lace hugging your chest perfectly. 

fuck. nanami had to hold back a deep groan from the sight alone. screw that tiramisu, he had much sweeter things to indulge in right under his nose. 

he was quick to nuzzle his way back into your warm cleavage like a man starved. eyes closed and soft, open mouthed kisses following shortly over the swell of your left breast. the vibration of his quiet murmur rippled against your skin, hands eagerly resting right under your bra. 

“love… you look so beautiful like this. so- mmh perfect.” calloused hands brushed over the straps of your bra, pulling on them so that they’d slide off. 

meanwhile your fingers were back in his hair, raking through the blond, silver sprinkled hair and moving strands from his forehead so you’d be able to watch him enjoy himself in his favourite spot.

“kento, baby…” you cooed softly, a fond expression settling on your face with how infatuated he seemed the moment he could get those lips of his to work where God intended. 

it was adorable, really. the older man, still in his dress shirt, tie a tad looser than it had been during the lecture before, relishing in the plush of your chest like there was nowhere he’d rather be. 

and there wasn’t. he had said so himself on several occasions when he had gotten to enjoy your flawless girls. 

“just so… soft and-” a small gasp escaping your lips cut his words off when he pressed a kiss right on your nipple, that he had managed to fiddle out of your bra when pushing your chest up more against his face. 

a small suck followed soon enough, making you hold back soft sounds you knew would spill from you the second your lips were to part.

since you were still in his office where anyone could come knocking at any given moment and invade the small private bubble you two were in, you tried your best to keep quiet.

the hand in his hair stilled, or well, tightened sightly when you felt his tongue swirl around the sensitive peak in slow, warm motions. 

oh how he loved this. he was putty in your arms the moment he took sight of his favourite tits. he’d stay this way all day if he could. 

just held by you, calm and untroubled, enveloped in that familiar embrace he had grown to call his own sanctuary. he’d give the world for it. truly.

and you knew that. so you let him stay there, free of the grading stress for once. seeing him this peaceful was rare. yes, definitely more common with you around but still rare. which is why you held the sight of him like this so dear. 

it made your heart soar all the more when he lifted his head to set his gaze on yours. his glasses faintly askew, expression fond. 

you dipped your head down to meet his lips with your own in a soft, unrushed kiss while your free hand trailed up to cup his jaw, holding it with care. 

“what would i do without you, love?” he murmured against your lips, his warm breath fanning over your skin. a subtle crinkle formed at corner of his eyes, deepening that attractive smile that had already imprinted itself on his face as it always did when he laid eyes on his beloved girl and her gorgeous girls. 

the question only made you press another kiss to his lips, a grin tugging at your lips. 

“i’m serious, i don’t think i would’ve made it to the end of the semester.” he tried to reaffirm, hoping you’d see how much he meant it. how badly he needed you to understand that you were everything his soul longed and ached for. 

that after all his time being he’d only felt this way with you. 

it made your touch and expression soften. how was he even allowed to be this precious when not even meaning to? 

“me neither, baby.” you said in a hushed whisper, both hands cupping his cheeks now with one thumb caressing the matured skin.

“would’ve never stayed sane without you by me.”

that was all it took for nanami to lean into another kiss, this one deeper, needier and almost desperate. 

a/n: have literally been thinking about this non-stop since exams have started

[sadisticslut666]

Giving Nanami sensei head to get out of trouble

cw: explicit smut, authority abuse, prof/student.

The uniform was supposed to be standard issue: crisp white blouse, navy jacket with the school emblem, pleated skirt that hit mid-thigh on most first-years. Practical. Modest. Combat-ready.

On you—a third-year who’d somehow ended up issued a first-year replacement after a cursed spirit shredded your last set during a solo mission—you looked like a whore.

The skirt barely skimmed the tops of your thighs and the back of your ass. Every step tugged it higher, the pleats doing nothing to hide how the fabric rode up. The blouse strained across your chest, buttons pulling taut against your tits, sleeves too short at the wrists. You stared in the mirror of your dorm room, tugging futilely at the hem. Justttt great.

A sharp knock rattled the door. “Oi, let’s go! Training starts in ten!” Nobara’s voice, impatient as ever. You sighed, grabbed your bag, and opened the door.

Nobara and Yuji stood there—Yuji in his usual red hoodie layered under the jacket, Nobara in her perfectly customized long skirt and belt. Both of them froze when they saw you. Yuji’s eyes went wide, then flicked down, then snapped back up so fast you heard his neck crack. “Uh… your skirt…”

Nobara’s mouth dropped open before curling into a wicked grin. “Holy shit. First-year uniform on a third-year body? Babe, that skirt is barely covering your ass.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unbothered. “Don’t start. My others are in the wash. These are my backup backups.”

Nobara snorted. “Backups? Those are your backup backups? Girl, you look like you’re auditioning for a strip club.” Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “Don’t you have, like… actual backups?” “They’re in the wash!” you snapped.

Nobara cackled, looping her arm through yours and dragging you down the hall. Yuji trailed behind, eyes firmly on the ceiling. “Well,” Nobara said cheerfully, “there’s no way Nanami sensei’s not gonna write you up for that. He’s all about regulations. ‘Proper attire is essential for focus and safety,’” she mimicked in a deep, stoic voice. “You’re toast.”

Yuji winced sympathetically. “Yeah… he’s strict about uniform policy. Remember when he made Megumi tuck in his shirt during a spar? Megumi looked like he wanted to die.”

You groaned. “Fantastic. Just what I need—Nanami sensei staring at my legs while lecturing me on professionalism.”

Nobara leaned in and waggled her eyebrows. “Or maybe he’ll be too distracted to lecture. Ever think of that? All that repressed energy? He seems like the type to fuck a student”

You elbowed her hard, cheeks red. “Oh. my. god. Nobara! Shut up.”

Training grounds were already buzzing—first-years running drills, second-years sparring, third-years overseeing or stretching. Nanami Kento stood off to the side in his usual impeccable suit, tie knotted perfectly, blond hair swept back, arms crossed as he observed the chaos with that signature mild disapproval.

He spotted your group immediately. His eyes flicked to you—then down. Then back up. His expression didn’t change, but you saw the subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his fingers flexed against his biceps. Nobara noticed too. She leaned in, whispering, “Told you. He’s gonna combust.”

“Focus,” Nanami called out, voice calm but carrying. Everyone snapped to attention. “Pair up. Controlled exchanges only. No full techniques unless supervised.”

He walked the perimeter, correcting forms, offering clipped advice. When he reached your group, he stopped.

You straightened instinctively. His gaze swept over you again—lingering just a fraction too long on the hem of your skirt before meeting your eyes. “Uniform infraction,” he said sternly, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Skirt length violates regulations by at least ten centimeters.”

You swallowed. “My spares are unavailable, sensei. This was all I had.”

He exhaled through his nose, “Unacceptable. You’ll sit out today’s sparring. Report to my office after class for discussion of alternatives.”

Nobara made a soft “oooh” under her breath. You nodded, cheeks burning. “Yes, sensei.”

The rest of training passed in a blur. You sat on the sidelines, legs crossed tightly, hyper-aware of every breeze that tugged at the too-short fabric. Nanami didn’t look your way again, but you felt his attention like a physical weight.

After the session ended, you trudged to the faculty wing. His office door was ajar. You knocked. “Enter.”

Inside smelled like coffee, old books, and faint sandalwood. Nanami sat behind his desk, jacket draped over the chair back, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tie loosened by one notch. He gestured to the chair opposite him. “Sit.”

You did, carefully tugging the skirt down as far as it would go. It still rode right back up your thighs. He leaned back, studying you with that unreadable expression. “Explain.”

You repeated the laundry mishap, the mission damage, the lack of spares. He listened without interrupting.

When you finished, silence stretched. He didn’t look up right away. Just tapped the end of his pen against a disciplinary form. “Uniform violation,” he began, “Skirt hem fails to meet minimum length requirement by twelve centimeters. Blouse fit compromises range of motion and presents a hazard in combat scenarios. Overall presentation undermines the professionalism expected of a third-year student.” Each word landed like a deliberate strike, you bit your lip so hard it hurt.

“I’m prepared to offer two options for remediation,” he continued, folding his hands on the desk. “Option one: a 10,000-word essay, due by end of week, titled ‘The Impact of Lack of Preparation on Self and Team in High-Risk Environments.’ Properly cited. MLA format. No extensions.” Your soul left your body for a second. 10,000 words. By Friday. You’d rather fight a Special Grade alone.

“Option two,” he said, voice stern, “one week suspension. Reported to your guardians. Full academic probation review upon return.”

Shit shit shit. Your parents would actually murder you. They’d frame the suspension letter and hang it in the living room like a trophy of disappointment.

You swallowed. Heart hammering. Nobara’s stupid joke echoed again. I bet Nanami’s the type to fuck a student.

You shifted your weight. The pen you’d been fidgeting with slipped from your fingers and clattered to the floor.

Oops.

You bent slowly—deliberately—letting the skirt ride up another inch as you sank to your knees and crawled under the desk.

Nanami went still. You settled between his spread thighs, hands braced lightly on the crisp fabric of his slacks, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. You tilted your head. Voice small, breathy. “Sensei… I really can’t afford the suspension.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He was rock-hard. The fabric was stretched so tight you could see the outline of the head, the dark wet spot already blooming at the tip. His eyes slammed shut. Head tipped back against the chair. Knuckles white on the armrests. “This is inappropriate,” he said through gritted teeth. “You will remove your hands. Now.”

You pressed your palm flat against him—firm, warm pressure right over the thick length and felt him twitch under your hand, precum soaking through the fine wool of his slacks. You bit your lip to keep from moaning at the sight. “Sensei…” Your voice was barely a whisper.

His jaw clenched so hard you heard the faint click of teeth. Eyes squeezed shut behind those glasses. Head tipped back against the chair like he was praying for strength.

“Get. Up.” Each word was bitten off. But his hips rocked forward into your palm. Barely an inch. Enough to make the wet spot spread.

Fuck.

Your fingers worked his belt open with shaky urgency. Zipper rasped down as you tugged the waistband of his briefs aside and his cock sprang free—heavy, flushed dark, the head glossy with precum that strung between fabric and skin when you pulled it away. Nanami sucked in a breath through his nose. Eyes still closed. Like if he didn’t look, it wasn’t happening.

You salivated instantly—mouth watering so fast you had to swallow hard. He was thick. Veined. Perfect. The kind of cock that made your thighs clench just looking at it.

You wrapped both hands around him—couldn’t quite close your fingers fully—and gave one slow, firm stroke from base to tip.

A bead of precum welled up immediately, spilling over your thumb. Nanami’s abs contracted under his shirt. A low, strangled sound died in his throat before it could escape.

You leaned in. Tongue flicked out—quick, kittenish—lapping at the slit. Salty. Hot. Addictive as fuckkk. You took the head into your mouth. Sucked lightly. Tongue swirling as he exhaled shakily, “We… cannot—”

But the protest dissolved into silence when you slid down further. Lips stretching around him. Cheeks hollowing. You moaned softly around the thickness—vibration traveling straight up his spine.

Nanami’s head fell back harder against the chair. Eyes screwed shut so tight crow’s feet appeared at the corners. One hand gripped the armrest until the leather creaked. The other stayed tangled in your hair. You bobbed slowly at first—taking more each time—until your nose brushed the neat trail of blond hair at his base. Throat relaxed. Swallowed around him. Felt him throb against your tongue.

A tremor ran through his thighs. His breathing turned ragged—short, controlled bursts through flared nostrils. Trying so hard to stay quiet. Trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t seconds from losing it.

You pulled off with a wet pop. Looked up at him—lips shiny, chin wet. “Sensei,” you whispered, stroking him with both hands now, slick with spit and precum. “You’re so hard… you’re dripping down my wrist.”

His eyes cracked open, pupils blown wide. “You need to stop,” he rasped, “Before—”

You didn’t let him finish. Took him deep again sucking faster around his warm cock, gagging as he hit the back of your throat. His hips jerked forward—once, twice—shallow, helpless thrusts into your throat. A choked groan finally escaped, immediately cut off as he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

Hand fisted tighter in your hair, not pulling you off but pushing you down. You moaned around him, vibrating again. His thighs shook. Abs clenched so hard the buttons on his shirt strained. “Fuck—” The word slipped out—barely audible, as he came, pulsing down your throat in hot thick heavy spurts. You swallowed greedily—every drop—while he shuddered above you, silent except for the harsh, uneven breathing he couldn’t quite control.

When it finally stopped, he slumped back in the chair—chest heaving, hand falling limp from your hair. You pulled off slowly. Licked him clean and tucked him back into his briefs with careful fingers. Zipped him up. Buckled the belt.

Then you crawled out from under the desk—skirt still hiked, thighs slick, lips swollen and glossy. Nanami hadn’t moved. Eyes closed again. Face flushed. Tie slightly askew for the first time you’d ever seen.

You stood. Smoothed your skirt down which was pointless. Leaned over the desk until your lips brushed his ear.“Still giving me the essay, sensei?” you whispered. “Or can we… negotiate?”

a/n: idk why I remembered the beginning scene from the kissing booth and imagined it happening w Kento…mayb it’s bc I’m ovulating

[tojipie]

happy valentines day! : professor nanami gets more than he signed up for after entertaining your advances

18+ smut, professor!nanami x fem reader, mutual pining, college au, hurt/comfort, fluff ~ 3k wc

nanami isn’t a rule breaker. he could probably count the number times he's stepped out of his comfort zone on one hand if he had to. that’s what got him this position teaching grad students in the first place.

he knows it’s wrong, that feeling this way about you is against the code of conduct he swore to uphold when he took this position. but god, does he want you. you’re practically all he can think about, even when the simple act of being around you means putting the life he's built at risk.

he's caught wind of little crushes before. that pointed look he'll get from students when they come up to turn a paper in. maybe the brush of a few fingers, and a soft little "have a good weekend" if they're feeling bold. but never, in all his years of instructing, has anyone toyed with his mind the way that you have.

his infatuation with you isn't some fleeting semester long crush. it's deep than that. pure, unfiltered need. festering in the pit of his stomach like a disease. he hasn't felt this captivated in too long but even then, nanami's not sure if any past crush of his compares to the borderline life ruining adoration he holds for you.

and oddly enough, he thinks you might even feel the same. that's what's driving him mad.

you’re a smart girl, impossibly so. you’re kind to others, show up to class on time, and even make him laugh with your cute questions during lecture. but something deeper lies underneath that.

your flirting doesn't go unnoticed. the way your fingers brush his when you come up to hand in your quizzes. how your gaze never quite seems to leave the area below his belt during lecture. the way you swing by office hours just to ask him questions he knows you know the answer to.

even so, nanami entertains you every single time. he savors those little moments with you, doesn’t shy away when you keep him in his office way longer than you need to and bears the humiliating task of pretending like he doesn't want to coach you through today's exercises while you keep his dick warm.

he endures it all anyway, because you're the most captivating woman he's ever had the pleasure of meeting. and because part of him thinks he might have seen you smile when his resolve broke and he had to adjust himself under his desk.

things only ramp up after that.

kento can't believe he acted so brazenly. his first mistake was agreeing to speak with you at all that day. his second was thinking he had the strength to not pop a boner in his dress slacks while you rattled away in the chair opposite of him, sitting pretty with your eyes glued to his like you were trying to pull a confession out of him.

you know. he knows that you know, and it's only a matter of time before one of you caves and you do something you both can't come back from. kento decides it won't be him who gives in first. even so, the week doesn't come without his struggles.

he’s ended class early every single session this week because you won’t stop staring at his cock. he’s turned people away during office hours so he can sit idle at his desk and figure out how he's going to make it through the month. hell, he hasn’t cooked dinner for himself in three days, opting to lay in bed and fuck his fist until chest aches from exertion.

never mind the sick fantasies his mind seems to conjure up out of nowhere. thoughts of you keeping him on your tongue while he grades papers, of you with your knees to your chest, crying out for him while he takes you right on the floor of the lecture hall like some sort of freak.

you've bewitched him. every single thought he's had today has derailed so far toward you that he's given up on his lesson plan for the week. every millisecond of free time, spent wondering what it'd take to make that pretty back arch.

kento spends the height of the semester on edge, plagued with the knowledge that you're toying with him. he braves every lecture like a man going to war, calling on every ounce of self control he has every time you look up at him with those pretty eyes and thank him for a great class. he watches you walk out the door every time, wallowing in his own little mix of self pity and hormonal desire on the car ride home.

until, one day, right as he thinks he’s starting to gain his momentum back, you waltz into his office with a look he's never seen before.

you almost look smaller like this, standing in the center of the room with your sleeves pulled over your hands, mouth downturned the way it always is when you don’t get what you want. the thought of you being upset makes his chest tighten more than he'd like to admit, but he can't afford to lose his composure now.

“you’re nervous.” he offers plainly, looking up at you through the rims of his thin glasses. the hand gripping the pen he holds is turning white from how hard he’s holding on to it. curse you and your grip over his heart.

you say nothing, circling the chair in front of his desk to quietly sit in front of him. you cross your legs, then uncross them like you’re not even sure why or how you got here.

“tell me.” he pleads, eyes flitting back to the paper he’s grading. he circles something in red, writing a small note in the margins to try and find a sense of normalcy. you watch, worrying your bottom lip red between your teeth.

kento sets his pen down on the desk a little harder than he should. he stands, work discarded behind him in favor of circling the desk.

“tell me what it is before i assume.” he says sternly. you both know what he’s implying. tell him what’s on your mind and why you’re choosing to make it his problem, before he fucks it out of the both of you.

“you can assume.” you breathe.

and just like that, you're on him. hands fisted at his lapels while he grips the fabric around your waist like one would hold a trophy.

the noise nanami makes is humiliating. long and deep in his chest like every single problem he’s had this year is suddenly gone. he walks the both of you backwards until he's able to sit in his office chair, hastily grabbing you under the curve of your ass to pull you into his lap.

"fuck, you're beautiful." he mutters, reveling in the sweet noise you make at the compliment. you suckle on his lower lip with a hum, and nanami decides right then and there that he's realistically do anything in his power to hear you make that noise again.

you break away slightly to turn his gaze toward the very open door to his office, much to his chagrin.

he could stop right now. he should stop, if he's being honest. but the throb in his slacks is almost unbearable, and way you press yourself against his bulge isn't helping one bit.

he thinks of his job as you mouth down the curve of his throat. all those years spent perfecting his craft, working his way up the ranks of academia just to get where he is right now. he's unbelievably respected in his field because he's done nothing but play by the rules his whole life.

and in the end, he realizes it doesn't even matter. kento can't find it in him to care about his job when you're practically trying to fuck him through the thin fabric of your bottoms. he's denied himself what he needs for far too long. that's exactly why he sends you to go lock the door for him, releasing his belt with one hand while the other undoes his tie.

---

kento fucks you so thoroughly that he can't even work in his office the rest of the week.

he tries to be normal about it, but is there really anything normal about what the two of you did to each other last night? if there was a way to rationalize the amount of time your pussy was on his face yesterday, he would have done it already. but kento knows there’s no saving him now.

he shows up to lecture the way he's supposed to, holds office hours in the department lounge instead of his office and tries his best to be attentive when it matters. but nothing can shake the way he hardens in his pants when he thinks of how you looked with your legs thrown over his shoulders, or the sweet things you’d whispered in your ear while he fucked you.

how big he felt inside of you, how much you adore him, how good his fingers felt rubbing over the swell of your clit. he made sure to leave marks where he could, little constellations of purple and pink sucked onto the places where no one else can see.

he spirals over the next couple of days in an equally good and bad way.

on one hand, every millisecond of free time he has after class is spent cooped up in your tiny apartment, pounding you into your mattress until the hinges of your bed frame threaten to snap.

on the other hand he couldn't stay away from you even if he wanted to, and that proves to be dangerous once things start getting personal.

nanami doesn't have it in him to just fuck you, that won't satisfy him. he needs to scratch that itch in the back of his brain that's telling him to hold you. to caress you in the ways he's been dying to do since the moment you raised your hand in class for the first time.

he takes his time with you whether you're bent over his desk or his mattress, or the backseat of his car, praising you for a job well done in class that day, or on that week's set of practice questions. he won't even let you touch him until you've cum at least once. after you're done letting him take you apart, kento holds you and lets you interrogate him to your heart's content.

"why that specific tie every day?" you mumble, tracing little shapes on his palm with your thumb.

he hums thoughtfully. "well, why not?"

"do you have any other patterns?" you sound so cute like this.

"i do, I guess I just like this one." he laughs. kento chooses not to tell you it's because you complimented it once a while back. he'd worn it to class every day since. you kiss him then, long and slow like you're trying to commit the feeling of his lips to memory.

he tells you about his undergrad days, his family. his favorite things to cook and why. you tell him about your own life in return. your ambitions, friends, plans for graduation. kento offers to make some calls on your behalf in case you're ever looking for a job close to campus, because that's what he should be doing, right? it's only fair he does his best to help you succeed. but you only laugh and shake your head.

"don't favor me just because you've seen me naked" you tease. you're not looking to work your way up the ranks of academia using him as a crutch, even knowing nanami has no problem connecting you with the right people. that's not what you're here for.

he cooks you dinner for the first time that night, clad in nothing but a pair of pajama pants and an apron he threw on last minute. you can still see the scratch marks you left on his back a couple nights ago.

you eat in a comfortable silence, side by side at the dinner table like it's the most normal thing in the world. you wash the dishes together with only the sounds of the city below to keep you both company.

"would you like to spend the night?"

he doesn't know why he asks, or even where the confidence to ask comes from, but you agree anyway. and nanami thinks he's okay with whatever institutional punishment may befall him as long as he gets to wake up with you in his arms.

---

valentines day this saturday , and the two of you have been dancing around it for weeks.

the semester is in full swing now, and kento's grown comfortable enough with your little arrangement to allow himself to be romantic with you.

he starts off small. ordering breakfast to your apartment on weekends, letting you have the last sip of coffee from his to-go cup while you read in bed together. even going out of his way to give you longer deadlines for classwork if you need it, despite your protests against "picking favorites."

but how you not be his favorite? how could he ever look at you and not feel his heart swell or the stress melt from his neck and shoulders every time you press a kiss to his lips. nanami would give you the world if he had the means to do so.

in class, he's composed. stoic as ever as he rattles off each concept and theory to a room full of faces he probably won't remember in a couple of months. except yours. nanami doesn't know what this relationship has in store for him, but he at least knows that he won't go down without a fight.

he can't help but notice your expression the day you walk into your favorite cafe together and see the heart streamers and decals plastered all over the walls. it's the friday before valentines dat, and you look forlorn. like the little pink and red cutouts have reminded you of something that makes your heart ache.

he feels that ache too.

he'd find another job if you told him you wanted to be his. hell, he's drafted his two week notice just in case you happen to profess your unwavering need to make things official. to be his girlfriend, through and though. it's bringing up the topic that he's struggled with as of late.

kento knows he’s a goner when you cum with a cry of his name in bed that night. whimpering it chest to chest with him as he pummels his length into your sopping wet core with only his bedside lamp illuminating the both of you.

you whine, looking up at him with glassy eyes like the very universe orbits around him. that’s when he knew. that’s exactly the point at which he realizes there is not a single atom in his body that is strong enough to stay away from you. not now, not after the semester ends, and especially not in the privacy of his own bedroom where your scent has etched itself in between every fiber of his bedding.

"oh fuck-- be my girlfriend-- fuck." he grits out, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he cums with a noise that's way too loud to muffle.

he stills as soon as he registers what's been said, orgasm be damned. you only dig the heels of your feet into his lower back harder, sheathing him to the hilt inside of you where he belongs.

you mumble something then. so quiet he's sure you can't hear yourself either.

"speak up, love." he pleads, anxiously awaiting your response to his little orgasm induced outburst.

"i'd love to be yours." you sigh, nuzzling into his chest so sweetly that all he can do is hold you in until the sun comes up.

nanami waits until the end of the semester to tell you he'll be teaching at another college in the area after the semester ends. you take it surprisingly well considering you're kind of the sole reason he has to work elsewhere, ethically speaking.

the switch was easier than expected. one of the perks of being so highly regarded in academia. his notice of withdrawal probably wasn't as convincing as it could have been. just a few curt sentences about wanting to move in a different direction regarding his postdoc career. short for "i can't work here in good conscience anymore because the love of my life just so happens to be one of your students."

he thinks he'll take it easy for the rest of the year. most of the grading he's done since that first night with you was half assed anyway. he has more important things to think about, like what color panties you might wear to dinner tonight.

[revolvingsaturn]

.ೃ࿔*:･ Professor!Nanami, and his favourite university student.

more like this here + read the full ver here!

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Professor!Nanami, who takes a liking to you; he adores how you listen so attentively in every lecture, ask genuinely provoking questions about gothic novels and their authors, blink up at him in actual interest.

Professor!Nanami, who finds himself rereading your essays over and over just to gaze down at your handwriting- who, on occasion, has to snap himself out of the urge to trace the ink on the page with deft fingers, and swears he can smell your perfume on the paper.

Professor!Nanami, who stutters-stutters!- midway through his lecture on religious and sexual imagery in 18th Century literature when you shyly glance up at him, fingers mindlessly tracing circles on your notebook, and ask, “professor… how would you say the idea of sex outside of wedlock relates to both areas of metaphorical reference?”

Professor!Nanami, who honestly didn’t hear anything past your lovely honorific, and gapes at you for all of three seconds before he snaps back to reality and answers smoothly, like he wasn’t just considering how badly he wanted to scatter every book from your desk and bend you over like there wasn’t any other students in here-

Professor!Nanami, who feels himself get hot under his blue collar when you walk into his lecture in a low cut tank, sit down right in front of him and give him just the most delectable view of your cleavage.

Professor!Nanami, who ends class early to go wrap a strong hand around his painfully hard cock in the staff toilets at the thought of your tits pressed up against him, at how they’d feel in his hands and how you might call him ‘professor’ as he fucks you.

Professor!Nanami, who calls off work sick for the remainder of the day to go home and rut desperately into his pristinely ironed sheets, tie loosened and mouth open, shamefully debauched groans stuttering into the pillows.

Professor!Nanami, who spots you on a Saturday night after his final exam. You’re wearing a too short dress and far too much glitter on your eyes, and he swears he was just going out to get groceries, but now he’s sliding his big hand up your soft thigh in the back of his car and licking hotly into your mouth.

Professor!Nanami, who can barely contain himself when you step inside his house, who shoves you up against his bookshelf and ignores the way his hardback, colour coded, meticulously tabbed copy of ‘Great Expectations’ falls to the floor.

Professor!Nanami, who spends the evening (when he should’ve been marking people’s essays, that now lie abandoned on his desk) fucking you into oblivion on his bed, legs thrown over strong shoulders while greedy hands steady your waist.

Professor!Nanami, who marks up your body with fingertip-shaped bruises and watches with half lidded eyes at the violet blooming across your clammy skin, then grips down again.

Professor!Nanami, who all but blinks back tears when you beg him to fuck you harder, when you whine out a “professor, please-!”

Professor!Nanami, who cums inside your weeping cunt with a disconnected moan, then watches your hips buck for more and your teary eyes blink up at his gorgeous face; he knows it’s wrong- professors don’t exactly belong tucked away inside students- but oh, it feels so good.

Professor!Nanami, who goes for three more rounds and three more positions until he’s overflowing out of you, ruining his sheets beyond repair- no matter, he’ll move to his desk instead.

Professor!Nanami, who watches you borderline limp into class on Monday, sweater and loose hair hiding the marks he knows are decorating your neck, and grins behind a stack of hastily marked essays when you tell your friend you’d had an uneventful night after Saturday’s bar.

Professor!Nanami, who hands you back your essay with glowing comments and a knowing smile; who brushes your fingertips against his, and asks you to stay behind for… additional feedback.

─────── ⋆⋅ ❀ ⋅⋆ ───────

a/n: thanks for reading!!!

perm tags: @esavyrse @f33bs @loverofladybugs

[reveries0fmine]

Too little, too late — Kento Nanami

pairing/characters: ta!Nanami x reader synopsis: you decide to ask out the hot teaching assistant in your math class on his last day... cw: angst, unrequited love, slightly controversional dynamic, grumpy x sunshine, pining and yearning wc: 2.9k art creds: @/nthndn_ on instagram Nanami masterlist collection masterlist

This was a terrible mistake. And you’ve known it all along. 

You knew it was wrong, that it was a bad idea you should’ve shoved back in the depths of your mind. But no, you just had to indulge in it, didn’t you?

But could you really be blamed? It wasn’t your fault that the teaching assistant in your linear algebra class was exactly your type. 

You were already whipped the first day of class. You’d made sure to arrive a little early to your lecture hall to secure a nice seat. Your hair was slightly messy, you wore a hoodie, and comfortable pants. You truly weren’t looking forward to your new math class for the semester. It would probably end up being boring and tedious. 

You couldn’t have been more wrong. Had you known you’d meet the man of your dreams that day, you would’ve put more effort in your appearance. God knows he was looking his best.

That soft looking blonde hair neatly pushed back and styled with gel, that sharp and clean-shaven jawline, those glasses that framed his alarmingly beautiful hazel eyes, his deep and rich voice, his soft-spoken but slightly sarcastic demeanour, those forearms fighting against the hem of the rolled-up sleeves of his neatly ironed dress shirt…

It was all too much for you to handle. And all that from a distance where he stood at the front of the class. So you can imagine your struggles whenever you’d raise your hand and have him come over to help you out on specific equations that didn’t seem to make sense to you (since you couldn’t focus during your teacher’s explanations).

Because then you could smell his cologne, feel the hum of his chest as he spoke in that low and sultry voice, carefully inspect each and every vein that traced the length of his fingers and arms. 

You’d brushed it off at first, trying to snap yourself out of it. Or at least make sure it remained a small, harmless crush. But you should’ve known you were doomed the first time you’d seen him crack a small hesitant smile at some lame joke you’d blurted out one day.

And so there you were, on your last math class for the semester, rehearsing how you’d confess your feelings to the handsome TA, and ask him out for a cup of coffee sometime. Eventually, your teacher dismissed you.

“That’s it for today. I’ll see you all next week for the final exam. If you have any questions, I’m afraid you’ll have to come to me, as this was Mr. Nanami’s last day with us. I’ll try to live up to the standards he’s set up for you all.” your teacher announced with a small grin.

The sound of laughter echoed through the lecture hall, but you only stared at the man in question. As rigid as ever, he gave the teacher a tight-lipped, polite smile. 

“It was nice working with you all.” his eyes sweep over the hall, and land on you. Flustered, you immediately look down at your books. “I wish you the best in your academic pursuits.” 

And with that, people started putting their things away, and standing up, slowly exiting the lecture hall. You took your time and made sure you were the last student who left. 

You look up, and find that even the teacher has left, now leaving you alone with Nanami. 

You take a deep breath and walk down the steps to reach him as he makes his way to the door. He notices you behind him and waits, holding the door open for you. The gesture almost makes you swoon. But you push through and reach him. 

Stepping out, you walk past him and stop. You watch him as he closes the door and turns to face you. You notice the slight twitch in his jaw, as if he was surprised to see you still standing there. 

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you had a minute?” you ask, trying to suppress the slight tremble in your voice, but to no avail.

He hesitates for a moment, before speaking. “... I’m listening.”

Your eyes stay glued to your shoes for a moment before you muster the courage to finally look him in the eyes. 

“I… I  wanted to let you know that I—” your words falter for a moment and you take a deep breath. But before you can speak again, he cuts you off. 

“If you are about to say what I suspect you want to say… let me stop you.” he pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows furrowed.

You feel your heart drop, and you manage to remind yourself to close your mouth so as to not look like a gaping idiot. 

“This is… highly unprofessional.” He continues. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you why exactly this is wrong.”

Your gaze falters and returns to the ground, eyes still wide open as your heart continues hammering in your chest. You manage to string out a few words.

“…Is it really so bad? The semester’s practically over,” you scoff, masking your hurt with annoyance. 

“Yes.” he replies immediately, his voice steady, as if this was just another Tuesday afternoon for him. It probably was, in all fairness. “It is.” he sighs, and it almost sounds like he’d just stepped in a puddle of mud with brand new shoes. “Even though the course is over… this is wrong. My principles wouldn’t allow it.”

You take a small step back and tighten your hold on your books. 

A moment of silence passes.

“This isn’t personal. I hope you understand.”

“Yeah,” you nod, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry.” You walk away, fighting the urge to just make a run for it. 

He watches your figure grow smaller as you get further and further away. With another heavy sigh, he looks away and takes his glasses off, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, his jaw clenched tight. 

What the hell just happened?

After taking a moment to compose himself, he puts his glasses back on, and runs a hand through his hair before walking away. 

The next week, you’d taken your exam. The second you were finished you bolted out of there. Partly because you were finally done for the semester, and partly because you never wanted to be in that room again. 

As explained by your teacher last week, Nanami wasn’t there (thankfully). 

You figured he was probably back at his university by now. 

Stop it, you thought. There was no use in thinking about him anymore. 

You’d cried to your friends about him and how embarrassed you were for thinking he’d ever say yes. You should’ve expected it, really. But you were too blinded and smitten to realize it. 

At least now you had two months of summer break before you, an ample amount of time for you to move on from him and rest after your academic chores. 

And after the first couple of weeks, things had gotten better. You and your friends all had time to hang out more. You went on outings, went shopping, even went to festivals and theme parks. 

Usually you didn’t do all of this stuff so often, but your friends insisted on it to get your mind off him. And you’re glad they did. Not only because it worked, but also because somewhere along the way, you’d met someone new. 

And for the first time in weeks, ever since you’d gotten rejected, you were doing better.

Nanami, however? He was going through hell. 

He’d tried to play it off initially. That day he’d rejected you, he’d proceeded with his daily routine. Drive home, shower, catch up on assignments and reports, have dinner, and go to bed. As if nothing had happened. But even he knew that wasn’t true. 

What was true was that he’d been fighting off thoughts of you with every fiber of his being. And he was getting progressively worse at it the more time passed. 

At first, you were just another person sitting in the lecture hall. But over the course of the semester, with each tutoring session, each question asked and answered, each exchanged glance, something had changed. And he hated it.

Sure, it wasn’t illegal. The both of you were over twenty, and rational people. It wasn’t like you were trying to fulfill some immature schoolgirl fantasy, and he certainly wasn’t into you for any messed up reasons. But the college’s policy didn’t permit it, for obvious reasons. 

There was that, but there was also the issue of his own guilty conscience, his moral compass. He simply couldn’t do something like this. No matter how beautiful and intelligent he thought you were, he couldn’t. 

But he wanted to, and he hated himself for it. 

It wasn’t too bad at first. Even after finishing his teaching assistant duties for the semester, he still had to complete his final assignment, which kept him busy (from thinking of you) for a while. But when he’d finished and now found himself free for the summer, it was getting harder for him to forget and move on from you. 

So here he was, at his favourite coffee shop on a summer day, warm coffee cup in hand, book in the other. He was sitting on the outside terrace of the café, the cool breeze softly caressing him, as the wind wafted the rich aroma of his dark coffee to his nose. There were few days where Nanami felt so serene, and this was one of them. Well, almost, because he still couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

With every person walking by, he saw you. Someone with similar hair to you, another with a similar laugh, a woman who dressed in a similar style as you. It was as if the universe was set on torturing him. 

With a stern huff, his jaw clenched, and his grip on the book tightened, determined to focus on what was supposed to be a relaxing day for him. 

But if he thought the universe was cruel, he had another thing coming. 

Because out of the corner of his eye, you appeared. Right across the street, walking out of a clothing store. 

Unable to stop himself, he turned his head fully to stare at you. 

And as if having sensed him, you spotted him as well. The two of you locked eyes, and he froze, unable to look away. 

Your eyes were wide open with surprise. After a couple of cars rolled by—shielding you from his gaze—you slowly regained your composure. 

You hesitate for a moment before slowly raising a hand and waving at him, a small smile on your face.

He carefully sets his coffee down and returns your wave with a raised hand, without exactly waving. You let out a small chuckle, your smile only widening. Of course he had a dad wave, that was just so like him. 

His eyes widen again at the sight of your amusement. What was so funny? Was it him? Had he been the one to make you laugh so sweetly? Without even knowing, a small grin slowly etched itself onto his lips. 

You look back at the road and make sure there are no cars coming, and when you confirm it’s free, your legs start moving on their own. You cross the narrow street and reach the coffee shop he’s sat at. 

Were you really doing this? Were you actually walking up to the man who’d rejected you, just for the sake of small talk? You push the self-depracating thoughts away and reach him. 

“Hey,” you started, lips pulled into a grin. 

“Hi.” he responded with a small cough. “Please— sit.” he gestures to the chair in front of him.

This was such a bad idea, why am I doing this?! 

You nod and carefully pull the chair before taking a seat. “How have you been doing?” you ask, rather awkwardly.

He sets his book down, slipping the receipt for what you assumed to be his coffee and croissant in between the pages before closing it. “I’ve been doing well… and you?”

“I’ve been great! No more math class, so… yay.” you spit out. 

God I’m so lame, you thought.

And yet that earns a small laugh from him. “Surely it wasn’t that bad?”

You loosen up a little, before shaking your head. “It wasn’t. I had a really smart tutor.” you respond, your voice quieter now.

His smile slowly fades, and a heavy silence settles between the two of you. 

Suddenly, the both of you speak up at the same time.

“Can I just say something?”

“I’d like to tell you something.”

You freeze, and your eyes widen. “... You go first.”

“No, you first.” he says firmly.

“Um, alright.” you giggle nervously. “... I just wanted to apologize for what I said—or almost said.”

He watches you with a small, almost imperceptible frown.

“And I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, that wasn’t my intention.” you stop, and take a moment before continuing. “I realize now how crazy I was for thinking that… that—” you choke up, unable to find your words. You let out a sigh and decide to settle for vague words instead. “Well, you know.” 

“Don’t say that about yourself.” His firm voice cuts through the awkward atmosphere. “You’re not crazy.”

You scoff and look at him. 

“I mean it.” he says, and his jaw clenches for a moment before he speaks again. “I should be the one apologizing for being so harsh with you. You didn’t deserve it.” His voice grows quieter the longer he speaks. “So… I hope you can find it in you to accept my apology.”

He stares at you, patiently waiting for a response. 

You stare back dumbfounded, before laughter erupts from your throat. 

He gives you a puzzled look, but remains quiet. 

“Kento, you’re too formal sometimes you know that?” you continue laughing.

A very subtle pink dusts his cheeks, and his mouth is left slightly agape. 

Once you settle down and notice the shock on his face, you immediately speak up. “Oh, sorry—is it okay for me to call you that?”

He blinks a couple times before nodding. “Yeah… it’s fine.”

“Okay, good.” you smile, and let out a relieved sigh. 

Another silence settles, but this time it isn’t uncomfortable.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” he says quietly, unable to stop himself. He was already working overtime trying to hold back from showering you in praise.

Now it’s your turn to blush, and you stutter out a few words. “Thanks. You look good too.” you clear your throat. 

He simply nods in response, and the two of you stare at each other with fondness. And that’s when he came to the realization.

He was madly in love with you.

Why was he only just now realizing?

You let out a small huff before getting up. “I don’t want to bother you for too long so I’ll get out of your hair, but… it was nice seeing you.” you push the chair back against the table.

He does the same, and immediately stands to his feet. “Wait,” you turn back to face him and stop. 

He let you slip out of his grasp—or rather, pushed you out of it—once already, and he’d be an idiot to let it happen again. 

“Yes?” you tilt your head.

He gathers his courage before speaking up. “Forgive me if this is sudden, but I was wondering if you’d like to—”

“There you are, I thought I lost you.” a man’s voice is heard, and an arm quickly finds its way around your waist. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and finally turns his head to look at Kento. “Who’s this?”

You falter for a moment, your smile fading. You quickly regain your composure and force a smile on your face. “Um, this is Kento. He was the teaching assistant in my math class last semester.” you rest an arm over the one wrapped around your waist.

His lips form into an ‘O’ and he nods. “Oh, okay. Kind of crazy you two ran into each other here.” he reaches a hand out to Kento. “Nice to meet you, I’m her boyfriend.”

The blond man shakes his hand, and introduces himself as well. But his mind raced. 

You were taken. And by someone so wildly different for him. He was all smiles and charisma, the polar opposite of Kento. 

But he was glad you’d at least realized you deserved better than his cold and stern self. That you should be with someone as warm and bright as you. 

You watch the interaction unfold, not sure what to think of it all. 

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave you now.” he shakes the blond man’s hand. “But it was nice meeting you.” he starts dragging you away.

You stop him and look back at Kento. “You were about to say something, right?” 

He hesitates for a couple seconds. “... you must’ve misheard.”

You know he’s lying, but you don’t know why. With a tight-lipped smile you wave one last time before turning and leaving.

He watches your figure retreat, until it disappears. He stays planted there for a moment, before turning back to where he was sitting. Staring down at his coffee, pastry and book, he only grabs the latter and leaves. Now too perturbed to enjoy his evening.

But really this was his own fault, and he had to live with the consequences.

Even though it killed him to know he’d lost you.

taglist for jjk works: @freyao7

[annaliciousworld]

˙⋆✮Professor!Nanami Headcanons! NSFW below!˙⋆✮

Professor!Nanami who sees you in his class on the first day and feels dirty finding you attractive.

Professor!Nanami who has a cup of coffee on his desk to stay awake during his lectures.

Professor!Nanami who hovers over you just a bit longer than needed, tilting his head down so his breath hits your neck.

You’re doing it wrong..do it like this.

Professor!Nanami who gets annoyed when he has to stay over for tutoring, but the compensation of seeing you in a low cut shirt makes up for it.

Professor!Nanami who praises you for getting a question right in a way he doesn’t do with his other students.

Yeah, good job. You’re a smart lady, yeah?

Professor!Nanami who tells you that you need more tutoring and to stay in his classroom a little longer.

Professor!Nanami who hates when other students talk about Gojo in his classroom.

Professor!Nanami who has you sit on his lap while you work, wanting to watch you in a more comfortable spot.

Professor!Nanami who starts kissing all over your neck when you get a question right, thanking the lord you have a skirt on.

Right again. Good job, love..

Professor!Nanami who puts you in a mating press, pressing his hand on your stomach so you can feel all of him.

Professor!Nanami who gives you a bit of favoritism during certain assignments.

Professor!Nanami who finger fucks you in his office with a hand covering your mouth so no one hears your moans.

Do you want student seeing you being a slut for their teacher? No? Then quiet down, okay?

Professor!Nanami who despite his rough flaws treats you like a princess since you’re the reason he doesn’t fully hate teaching.

——————————————————

I’m sorry for something so short my writing brain hasn’t been clicking all MONTH.