Warnings: Nsfw , Voyeurism, Professor/student, Cum Eating (kinda), Age Gap (gojo Is 28 Reader Is 22)

warnings: nsfw 🔞, voyeurism, professor/student, cum eating (kinda), age gap (gojo is 28 reader is 22) this is a long one~

“go!” nobara pushes you towards professor gojo, where he’s chatting and undoubtedly bothering professor nanami, making you stumble over your feet awkwardly in front of the two.

the two men halt their talk and glance down at you, gojo’s piercing blue eyes basically glowing.

“hello,” nanami greets you, allowing the silent question to linger in the air about what you need help with, whether you have a question, or why you’ve approached two professors.

you swallow hard, sneaking a glance over your shoulder at nobara and yuji, who are laughing and giving you enthusiastic thumbs-up, while megumi simply sighs.

“something wrong?” gojo questions as you turn back to them, a playful tint to his tone as always.

there’s a rumor going around the school about gojo satoru. being the most popular professor on campus, it's no surprise he’s got a few rumors floating around but this one in particular has become quite popular among the students.

asking gojo about it face to face seemed funny at the time— you, nobara , and yuji had been in stitches over the thought, even though megumi couldn’t find the humor in it. and since you lost the bet, you’re the one stuck confronting him. you can’t prove yuji and nobara didn’t rig the bet knowing you have a crush on gojo but you’re pretty sure they did because they’re giggling like school girls a few feet away.

as you stand before your tall, imposing professor and the weight of what you’re about to do sinks in—you must’ve been out of your mind to think this was ever a good idea.

“no,” you shake your head and hold your hands behind your back stiffly.

“so my adored student just wanted to come say hi?” with a smile, he tilts his head slightly, leaning down just enough to bring his towering frame closer to your level, “how nice~!”

“i have work to do,” nanami sighs at gojo before turning to you, “if you have any questions you know where to find me but please, keep it essential.”

since nanami knows gojo is one of your professors as well, he figures whatever you have to say can be said to him. it’s clear nanami takes any chance to escape gojo’s antics and he’s using you to do so now so you nod at him with a polite smile before he leaves.

gojo hums in a question, in a sing song tone, urging you to speak.

“i was just wondering-,” you press your lips together and let out a muffled huff in an attempted concealed laugh, “what size pants you wear.”

“huh?” he draws out, tilting his head a bit more as his face contorts in playful confusion.

“is one of my esteemed students gonna buy me a gift?” he coos as he stands straight once again and rests his hands on his hips, coming to the conclusion that you’re asking so you can buy him a pair of pants.

you press your lips together briefly and shrug noncommittally.

“i’m usually a size medium,” he says with his natural smile.

you hum, a laugh brimming on the surface as you hear the mumble of yuji and nobara snickering a few feet away.

“are they.. too tight?” you question with hardly concealed amusement, making his brows twitch in slight confusion.

“tight?” he repeats, growing lost on what you’re really asking as his gaze flickers down at his pants briefly.

“they seem a bit tight,” you blurt out, a giggle escaping as you bolt back to your friends, not giving gojo a chance to respond.

he’s left standing there, blinking in confusion and checking the back and front of his pants like he’s worried there’s some kind of a stain somewhere. you crash into nobara and yuji, both of them bursting into giggles as they fast-walk alongside you, asking you to piece together what just happened since they only caught parts of it. meanwhile, megumi trails behind with a bored look, eyes half-lidded as if this is just another typical day for him.

the mischief you, yuji, nobara, and megumi got up to deflated as soon as you got home. alone in your dorm, you’d found yourself groaning, face in your hands, cheeks burning as you replayed what you’d immaturely said to the most popular, attractive professor in your college. cursing yourself under your breath, the thrill of the moment now felt more like embarrassment.

the next day in gojo’s class, it’s a little uncomfortable for you, but with over fifty students filling the room, you figure it’ll be fine.

gojo taught his class with the same playful energy as always, but when his gaze lingered on you for just a moment mid-lecture, you sank awkwardly into your seat, that familiar heat rising to your cheeks.

after class, as you tried to slip away within the crowd of students, he stopped you in your tracks. you gave him a polite, slightly relieved smile when all he did was ask if you could deliver a stack of papers to professor geto on your way out. you figured he must have forgotten about your little encounter or just brushed it off as a harmless joke from some silly students.

lunchtime on campus, even in college, still has its cliques. some tables are for the smarter students, others for the athletes, with groups shifting from one table to another but always sticking to their usual crowd. but two of the circular tables never change: the ones ‘reserved’ for the professors. even when none of them are there, those tables stay empty, a silent understanding that they belong to them alone.

“you’re saying nothing happened? he didn’t even ask you what you were talking about?” yuji questions you in his natural loud manner with a mouth full of his sandwich from across the table.

“what do you mean?” nobara scoffs a laugh, “she pussied out and didn’t even say what she was supposed to say.”

you huff and drop your bag down beside you to rest your forearms atop the table, elbows brushing against nobara’s and megumi’s.

“well, he kinda-” you steal a quick glance over your shoulder at the professors' table, where professor gojo and a few other male professors are chatting over lunch, before cringing and quickly turning your attention back to your friends, “-gave me a look in class.”

nobara perks up at this as yuji shoves more of his sandwich into his mouth, even though megumi likes to feign disinterest with his head in his book, you can tell he’s tuning into the conversation as well.

“a look? what does that mean? like a ‘look- look?’” nobara questions with amusement and two jumps to her brows, jabbing your arm with her elbow.

you snicker at the insinuation while yuji seems lost and megumi simply cringes a bit.

before you can respond, yuji tilts his head and swallows a huge mouthful painfully before chewing it properly and speaking quickly.

“huh? what’s a ‘look- look’?” he asks innocently, assuming it must be a sort of ‘girl’ thing.

“how stupid are you?” nobara insults yuji in her natural insulting way which never seems to bother him, “context clues?”

“come on, tell me!” yuji whines before turning to megumi, “what’s a look look?”

“don’t ask me, idiot,” megumi says in a monotone before he politely takes a bite of his chip.

“it’s that look megumi gives you after a long day,” nobara teases dramatically, “you know, the one where he’s just longing to push you against the wall and whisper sweet nothings into your ear while he—”

“do not finish that sentence,” megumi warns, looking up from his book to send nobara a glare that she simply brushes off with a snicker.

“wait, gojo gave you that kind of look?” yuji asks with his mouth in a literal ‘o,’ showing off all of the mush inside. yuji either knows that nobara is trying to tease him but just doesn’t mind, or he’s very ignorant.

you shake your head immediately with a playful eye roll and a smile that conveys you’re used to your friends’ behavior, “no, he definitely did not give me that look.”

“then what?” nobara prods, less enthusiastic now but still interested as she snacks on her lunch.

“it was more like,” you sigh and squint at the ceiling as you attempt to think of what to call it, “a -she-looks-familiar—is-she-the-weird-girl-who-said-something-about-my-pants-being-too-tight- look.”

megumi snickers at you quietly without even looking up from his book as yuji simply continues ravishing his sandwich.

“ah,” nobara snorts and pats your shoulder awkwardly, “that’s rough buddy.”

“eh—i’m sure he doesn’t care,” yuji dismisses, small bits of lettuce flying out of his mouth, “professor gojo is cool.”

“he probably thinks i’m a weirdo,” you rub your hands down your face with a breathy laugh.

you’re not overly worried; it’s more of a lighthearted concern than a serious one. you’re aware you’re likely not so special as to be seen as anothing in gojo satoru’s world, much less a weirdo. gojo has many students and probably doesn’t remember most of them. still, you like to think you stand out since he often asks you to help him with tasks, like delivering things to other professors or grabbing items for him after class.

“well, look at it this way,” nobara says with a shrug, “at least now he’s thinking about you, even if he’s thinking you’re a freak who’s obsessed with his pants.”

“yeah!” yuji calls out enthusiastically, “he’s probably like, ‘what color panties does my weird student have on today?’”

yuji laughs at his own joke but it’s silent otherwise as you all blink at him—even megumi.

“dude,” nobara deadpans with a grimace, “you’re a perv.”

yuji’s gaze flickers at all three of you as his face contorts in offense, “what? i was joking!”

you snort and megumi grimaces at him before turning back to his book.

“anyways,” nobara brushes yuji’s transgressions off, “this is a good opportunity for you! get into his pants and confirm or deny the rumors.”

“huh?” yuji shouts at nobara with a mouthful, “you’re the perv!”

you huff and shake your head before standing as nobara flicks yuji’s forehead harshly, “i’m gonna go get lunch, be back.”

as you reach to pay for your usual at one of the cafes surrounding the cafeteria tables with some crinkled up bills in hand, a sleek black mastercard suddenly appears in front of you.

“oh—! throw in one of those cookies too,” a familiar voice sings like a child with a sweet tooth before they swipe their heavy, luxury card.

your gaze travels up the long fingers, and your eyes widen for a moment before you quickly try to mask your surprise when you meet the familiar sight of white hair and that charming smile aimed at the blushing lunch lady.

“professor goj— you didn’t need to do that,” you let out an awkward laugh as you grab your packaged food and gojo snatches one of the cookies from the display.

“don’t be silly! come on,” he coos, giving your head a quick pat before slinging an arm over your shoulders and guiding you forward. you find yourself stumbling to keep up, his long legs striding effortlessly while your shorter steps scramble to match his pace.

your face betrays a blend of fluster and slight panic as you avoid the gaze of the many students watching and whispering. fortunately, not all of them are focused on you—some watch discreetly while others remain absorbed in their own conversations.

“this is my free hour-” you say nervously, attempting to politely express your desire to join your friends for lunch rather than follow him to whatever teaching-related errand he likely has in mind, “uh—where are we going—”

“you’re gonna eat anyways so—eat with us,” gojo chirps as you approach a table of familiar, intimidating professors in their suits, jackets casually removed. they had been quietly enjoying their lunches, but now they glance up at you, curiosity evident in their expressions.

“o-oh— um—” you stutter nervously, your gaze darting to the side where your friends are staring at you with their jaws dropped.

“let the poor girl sit with her friends, satoru,” professor geto shakes his head softly, clearly accustomed to gojo’s antics and unpredictability. l

everyone knows that professor geto and gojo are close, with rumors of their friendship going back to high school. the way they interact only adds weight to the speculation— they’re often seen chatting or sitting in on each others lectures.

you glance up at gojo, still weighing your shoulders down with his long arm, and give him a questioning look, silently asking if you can follow geto’s suggestion.

“aww,” gojo pouts theatrically as he gazes down at you, “you’re gonna hurt your favorite professors feelings!”

he’s making it clear in a playful way that you’d have to find a way to slip out of his grasp somehow as to get out of this situation. it’s as if he knows it’d be too awkward for you to try to get away at this point since he payed for your food.

your mouth opens and closes and before you can respond, he speaks again with amusement.

“sit,” gojo chuckles and nudges you toward the open seat.

you lower yourself into it hesitantly, while gojo practically bounces into the chair beside you, already unwrapping his cookie. despite your best effort to press your legs together, your knees still brush against gojo’s manspread thigh on one side and geto’s on the other. every bit of your stiff body language shows your discomfort, as though you’re instinctively trying to make yourself smaller, hoping to disappear into a hole in the ground.

as you settle into your seat, you glance at your friends and catch nobara gesturing at you with urgency, her expression screaming, ‘what are you doing?’ in response, you give a panicked shrug that conveys, ‘i don’t fucking know,’ before redirecting your focus to the professors.

professor nanami sighs, clearly disappointed by gojo’s antics in bringing a student into this setting. he adjusts his tie and turns his attention to you.

“hello again,” nanami greets you with polite formality, treating you like just another student—which you are—the absurdity of your presence at this table is impossible to ignore. it’s not about rules; professors just simply don’t sit with students, you assume it’s more due to needing time to themselves and a break from taking on that professor persona than anything else.

“uh— hi,” you greet back, slowly setting your food down in front of you as gojo takes a big bite of his cookie.

professor geto says your name with his signature soft smile, “it’s nice to see you again.”

“oh- it’s nice to see you too, professor,” you smile awkwardly with a brief short nod.

a moment of silence passes— an awkward moment for you. geto’s not too surprised since it’s difficult to phase him but its definitely a bit different to have a student at the table, nanami’s irritation is directed at gojo like usual, while gojo remains blissfully cheerful and nonchalant.

“relax~” gojo sings dramatically and nods down at your food, “eat, eat, we’re all friends here.”

you blink down at your food, then glance up at the professors, bewildered. how can you eat when it feels like the entire lunchroom is buzzing about you? the unspoken barrier between teachers and students looms large, highlighting why these interactions are rare.

you can hear nanami sigh before he resumes eating, clearly judging gojo’s inappropriate comment suggesting that a student and a professor could be friends.

“we don’t bite,” gojo urges you playfully like you’re a scared kitty as he leans down closer to your level, nudging your leg with his, “go on.”

geto lets out a soft huff in amusement before shaking his head gently and taking a swig of his coffee.

you let out a soft, nervous chuckle before hesitantly starting to eat, trying to block out the way the chatter of the students suddenly grows louder the moment you take your first bite. it’s as if you taking a bite solidifies the fact that you’re actually eating lunch with them.

gojo says your name slowly, like he’s recalling something, “you wrote that paper on the idea that humans would be able to teleport if we had the right equation, didn’t you?”

your brows raise in surprise and you quickly swallow your bite as you glance up at him beside you. half of you expected him not to even read the papers his students submit since he has so many, much less remember your name from it.

“oh— yeah that’s me,” you chuckle nervously with a small smile and nod.

“very interesting,” he compliments with his charming smile, “i love students who think outside the box.”

you can’t stop the warmth creeping into your cheeks at his praise; professor gojo is so charming it’s almost painful.

“that does sound interesting,” professor geto hums and chuckles a bit, “we don’t get fun topics like that in history much, do we?”

you huff softly, some tension dissolving because of the way they’re speaking so naturally to you, clearly attempting to make you more comfortable.

“i love history, actually,” you timidly express with a small smile towards the professor, causing him to smile back softly.

“oh, really? that’s good to hear,” geto expresses sweetly.

“pft,” gojo playfully teases, “physics is much more fun than history.”

professor nanami, who’s a calculus professor simply sighs and doesn’t interject on the topic. if he did care enough to say something, he’d say school isn’t meant to be ‘fun,’ but to improve on one’s learning.

“physics is just over analyzing things that dont need it,” professor geto dismisses mockingly, setting down his coffee cup and giving it a slight push to emphasize his point. “like pushing and pulling—it doesn’t really need an explanation.”

you glance back and forth between the two playfully bickering, finding it amusing to see your professors acting so lighthearted together up close.

“at least we’re living in the future, history is just the study of what’s already happened,” gojo banters back, “boring— been there done that.”

professor geto rolls his eyes lightheartedly before continuing to sip his coffee.

“right, my new favorite little student?” gojo sings as he nudges your side with his elbow, making you jerk a bit.

“oh- i don’t know,” you laugh nervously, still flickering back and forth from the two.

“don’t bring a student into your foolish nonsense,” nanami intervenes, making gojo ‘boo’ at him.

“no no, i wanna know too,” professor geto huffs with a soft smile, ignoring nanami, “history or physics?”

“you wont get in trouble~ c’mon, choose,” gojo taunts with a smile.

you gulp as you eye the both of them awaiting your answer, anxious to be put on the spot and for both attractive professors to have their eyes solely on you.

“sorry,” you say with a slight cringe at geto, “physics is just so engaging— not that i don’t love history too though.”

“ahh,” gojo calls out boisterously, “looks like i win.”

geto acts as if he’s been shot in the chest, though not very dramatically. “and here i thought you loved my class.”

“i do!” you claim with a small smile as gojo wraps his arm around your shoulder and forces your head to rest slightly on his chest.

“it’s okay,” gojo says to you in a teasing whisper though he’s looking at geto, “you can tell him his class sucks, he’ll only take it partially up the ass.”

“language,” nanami monotones with his tired eyes focused on his salad.

“oops!” gojo brushes him off nonchalantly as he briefly squeezes your shoulder with his hand that’s so large that his finger tips graze the side of your chest, “we’re all adults here, right?”

after a moment of silence, your confused gaze flickers from the two professors eyeing you and then up at gojo before growing flustered again.

“oh— um— yeah, i’m twenty two,” you explain with an internal cringe that you made them wait for your answer.

“see?” gojo sings as he moves to rest his forearms back on the table, “a little cursing won’t send her to the corner to think on her actions.”

nanami simply rolls his eyes.

geto snickers, clearly amused by how his two friends treat you as though you're some naive young woman, despite being only six years younger than him and gojo, and even closer in age to nanami.

“definitely won’t,” geto adds on with a soft genuine smile, despite the way he’s obviously joining in on gojo’s teasing, “you do curse, right?”

you blink at him and let out a playful, hesitant huff, half-expecting them to laugh it off as a rhetorical joke, but they seem serious—aside from the barely hidden amusement they're clearly enjoying.

“uh— yes,” you answer slightly humiliated to be forced to say that aloud to the older men who know damn well already that you curse— since you were fourteen in fact.

“naughty,” gojo teasingly points at you as if reprimanding you, “so then, what’s your favorite one?”

“my favorite,” you pause with a confused twitch to your brow, though you’re already aware of what he’s asking, “curse word?”

he hums with a smile and nods.

“um— i guess,” you clear your throat as the tips of your ears heat up ,“fuck.”

you’re aware it’s not taboo to curse in front of them since you’re all adults, but it still feels a bit wrong because of their status— as though you’ll get in trouble or something.

gojo lets out a bubbly laugh as geto chuckles airily.

“that’s a good one,” gojo speaks through giggles, “my favorite too.”

you awkwardly extend your arms and clasp your hands together, then squeeze your thighs around your hands, a harsh heat rising to your face as you chew on your inner cheek with a smile that feels mandatory.

you glance at your friends, who are still watching you intently, bickering among themselves about what you might be discussing and how gojo seems to be laughing, before turning your attention back to your professors.

“anyways,” gojo sings, crinkling up his cookie wrapper and moving to face you with one ankle lazily resting over his knee, “we ate together, you love my class, and now i know your favorite curse word. i’d say that means we’re officially friends, don’t you?”

“uh-” your brows twitch slightly, unsure of what he’s getting at, “i suppose.”

“good~!” he sings cheerfully, “then that means you can help me out with something, riight?”

you glance at the other professors who eye gojo, unsure of what he’s saying.

“like what?” you question curiously, expecting some kind of paperwork help again.

“what was that thing that you said to me the other day?” he asks but it seems as though this isn’t the answer to your question of what he wants from you yet, more of a preface to it.

you choke on your spit briefly before uttering a respectful ‘excuse me’ and wiping your mouth with a handkerchief professor nanami offers you as heat burns in your cheeks and ears.

“w-what did i say? i didn’t say anything to you the other day,” you ramble as you clench the handkerchief in your lap.

“oh, you remember!” gojo says with a giggle, genuinely believing your claim but urging to refresh your memory, “something about my pants?”

at this, nanami’s dissatisfied expression towards the situation and generally at gojo turns into a slightly cocked brow at you in curiosity. geto’s curiosity seems to be piqued as well, quietly sipping on his coffee as his gaze lands on you.

“oh,” you gulp and attempt to hold a poker face, “i— uh— don’t really remember.”

“either way,” gojo waves you off casually, “it feels like my students are acting off lately and since we’re such good friends now, i thought you’d be able to tell me what your peers are up to.”

gojo’s words make you realize that your encounter with him wasn’t the only one he’s had like it recently; the rumor has become quite popular, and you’re honestly surprised none of the teachers seem to know about it.

“is this about that rumor?” geto questions gojo curiously, making your brows perk up.

“what rumor?” gojo repeats with interest, leaning into the table towards geto.

geto and gojo turn towards you comically simultaneously and even nanami’s eyes are on you, waiting for you to elaborate.

just as you’re about to respond, your mouth closes abruptly when a loud voice rings out across the cafeteria, piercing through the chatter and ensuring that everyone within earshot can hear it.

it’s a male student attempting to imitate what he believes are a woman’s moans, dramatically punctuating his performance with a semi-coherent sentence that escapes his lips in an exaggerated tone.

“fuck~ how big is it, professor gojo?” with a clearly mischievous grin, the male student shouts before sprinting off with his friends, their laughter echoing behind them as they make their exit.

a few days after the humiliating lunch with your favorite professors, you approach the door of professor gojo’s classroom with intentions to play the role of messenger once again and return a stack of files that professor geto requested of you.

but as your fingers graze the cracked door door, ready to swing it open, your face drains of blood as your hand hesitates at the sight of professor gojo in his desk chair, jerking himself off with his brows pinched and lips slightly parted.

his infamous cock, the one that's been on everyone’s mind lately, stands proudly amidst his unbuttoned slacks and a tuft of white hair, a sheen of moisture highlighting its pink hue. his large hand strokes it slowly and knowingly, coaxing clear, milky fluid to weep from the tip as if he’s purposefully teasing himself.

as you watch another bead of pre-cum dribble out, swiftly gathered by his thumb to provide extra lubrication for its impressive length. you can't help but gawk, fully aware now that the infamous rumor is undeniably true.

satoru gojo’s dick is huge.

you almost act appropriately, preparing to back away and return the files to geto with some half-assed excuse— but when a throaty groan escapes his lips as his hips stutter upward into his hand, you pause.

metaphorical drool leaks from your lips as you abandon all morals and watch through the crack of the door as your professor gets himself off in the empty classroom he teaches in—teaches you in.

after a few frustrating strokes with his shirt getting in the way, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, showing off his sculpted body as his abs and bicep clenches and releases with every desperate hump into his hand.

the first time he speaks makes you jump, guilty mind immediately assuming you’re caught but when you hear what he whines out, your eyes widen briefly in a trance as your chasm pushes out a drool of slick to pool into your panties.

“yeah? if you want it then touch it— better yet let me open you up?”

it’s as if he’s drifting into a daydream, moaning out words to deepen his immersion in the fantasy. you find it all too familiar— when the sensation of holding your bladder for too long, the pressure teasing sensitive spots, lures you to envision that pressure as a lengthy cock pushing against your walls in a vivid reverie, or when you’re all alone and grind against a surface you know you shouldn’t, imagining it to be someone’s face.

it’s as if his words are steeped in a fantasy of breaking someone in, his fist tightening around the tip as he delivers short, forceful thrusts, never going beyond the upper middle of his cock—like he’s trying to force his way into a tight cunt that he can’t seem to penetrate.

“o-oh! there we go,” he hisses, finally pushing past that first metaphorical ring of muscle and jerking his tight fist all the way down to the base where his white fluff is, “wasnt so— ngh— bad was it? gon’ move now.”

he then keeps his fist wrapped firmly around the underside of his tip, rhythmically thrusting all the way up into his unmoving hand like he’s actually thrusting balls deep into pussy. his jaw is clenched tightly, a conflicted expression etched on his face as his eyes shut tightly and his head tilts back, as if he’s desperately trying to control the pace, fighting the urge to cum too quickly.

“aww,” he coos through humps, the sound strained as he fights to suppress a whine, his tone trembling with every movement, “don’t cry baby—f-fuck— it’ll feel real good in a second.”

your knees grow weak as you chew on your bottom lip, your lidded, glazed eyes glued on his trembling body. you expected the outgoing, dominant professor gojo to remain silent and maturely stoic in the throes of pleasure, but it’s a happy surprise that here he is— a quivering, whiny mess, embarrassingly lost in the fantasy of fucking a crying virgin? who seems to be sobbing at the sheer size of him.

his virgin fantasy would be amusing if the sight wasn’t so fucking hot, making it difficult to focus on anything other than the way his clothed thigh muscles and exposed abdomen tenses and relaxes with every jut into his fist.

then, as he repeatedly murmurs "harder? sure you can handle that?" in a breathless cadence, he seems unable to resist the urge to finally allow his fist to aid his hips, thrusting his hips against his helping hand in a desperate pursuit of that mounting desire.

“i’m sorry— i’m sorry—fuck!” he suddenly moans, the sound louder than anything he’s made thus far, and maybe if you weren’t heart-eyed at the sight of ropes of cum splurting from his tip, you would have glanced around the hallway to ensure no one was witnessing this— or witnessing you witnessing this.

as the realization hits you that he’s apologizing because he’s creaming inside his fantasy virgin girl, you can’t help but let out a soft, deep satisfied breath as one thigh rubs against the other in deep need for friction.

his shaft twitches as cum travels through it, making it feel as though you’re able to see the anatomy of it all, how the muscles in his cock contract and twitch rhythmically to propel milky semen to shoot out and splatter against his clenched, glistening abdomen and hand, some even landing on his black slacks.

you salivate watching as he whines through it, like he can’t handle the high of it, like he’s a victim to his own self induced orgasm. but when the short moment subsides, and you watch as he sighs deeply in satisfaction before tucking his still- hard dick back into his slacks, you gulp and straighten up.

you turn toward the exit, the door you were just peeking through to your right. just as you’re about to speed walk all the way to your dorm to shamelessly rub yourself into next week, you briefly clench your eyes shut and let out a soft exhale, mentally cursing yourself for succumbing to the urge to see what would happen if you entered his classroom.

before you realize it, you’re pushing open his door, surprisingly successfully concealing your amusement as you watch him jump slightly and clear his throat at the sight of you. he quickly straightens his shirt and leans the front of his hips against his desk, hands resting atop it lazily.

“oh, i’m sorry,” you say contorting your face into an innocent student who feels bad for potentially disturbing their professor, “did i interrupt something? i should have knocked, i can come back—”

“huh? oh—no, no, of course not,” he nervously huffs, his natural playful nature tinted. he glances at the clock on the wall before flickering back at you, “it’s late, what’s up?”

“professor geto wanted me to give these to you,” you smile respectfully as you set the pile of files onto the desk, eyes lingering on the white stain of leftover cum on his slacks.

“ah— i see, thank you.” he lifts the first file, feigning interest at the front of the one beneath it, which reveals nothing but a name. his gaze then flicks up to meet yours that’s trained elsewhere, and you quickly look away from the stain, warmth creeping into your cheeks as you realize he noticed your wandering attention.

by the look on his face, it’s clear he doesn’t know exactly what made you flustered; he simply recognizes that he’s caught you off guard, his expression neutral yet attentive.

“it’s no big deal,” you dismiss, hands intertwined behind your back as you rock back on your heels and glance around the room like you’re observing it even though you’ve been in this classroom more than fifty times by now.

his eyes dart down to his pants where your gaze had lingered curiously, and they widen in realization. he clears his throat and hastily shifts the pile of files to conceal his front where the cum stain is, a hint of fluster crossing his features.

“is there anything else i can help with?” he questions, making you hum in thought.

“actually— yeah,” you nod with ‘genuine’ concern, making his head tilt in slight curiosity.

“can you break me i—” you can hear his breath catch as his body stiffens, his ears perking up at your familiar words, making the corner of your lips twitch smugly and undetectably, “—i mean, can you break in my grade a little for this semester? i just really need those credits, maybe there’s some extra work i can help with?”

he blinks for a moment and then shakes his head to dispel his thoughts, laughing lightheartedly at himself for clearly mishearing you.

“right— uh— extra credit you said?” he repeats, face contorting in one that’s trying desperately to focus.

you hum and nod.

“honestly, professor, i’ve been struggling,” you frown, making his brows twitch in sympathy, “it’s been such a big load lately, so big it’s hard to cope with. it’s so hard to fit into my schedule that i can’t help but cry trying to fit it all in.”

gojo swallows hard, his jaw briefly tightening as a charged silence stretches between you. his intense gaze locks onto you while you look down at your feet, a genuine expression of stress tugging at your pout.

when he doesn’t speak, you lift your eyes to him, curiosity prompting you to see what’s keeping him quiet. your gaze seems to pull him from his trance, and he blinks, startled back to the moment.

“i- um- i’m really,” he sighs, licking his lips briefly, “-sorry it’s been so hard for you, sweet girl.”

you can’t help but let your eyes flutter shut at the pet name, a rush of warmth flooding through you as you inhale sharply. instantly, you rub your eyes, pretending to fight back tears, determined to cover your reaction.

“i-it’s okay,” you murmur as you keep your face in your hands, making him sigh and walk around his desk to stand in front of you and lean back against it.

he reaches out and affectionately pats your head, prompting you to peek out from behind your hands and look up at him. slowly, you lower your hands to your sides, concealing the excitement bubbling inside you at his petting.

“we can figure out how to get you some easy extra credit so it’s a bit smoother for you, okay?” he coos softly, sympathy for his struggling student evident in his tone but it’s tinged with a deep raspy whisper.

“you should be having fun in college, going to parties and having fun with your friends, not crying over assignments.”

you hum softly in agreement with a nod, more aware of his prolonged touch against the top of your head and closeness of your bodies than whatever he’s saying about school.

“you’re right,” you huff, as if suddenly embarrassed of yourself, “i’ve never even been to my first college party or had the chance to find my first boyfriend.”

he takes a deep breath, exhaling just as fully as he clenches his teeth, causing rhythmic dimples to appear and vanish in his jaw before he finally pulls his hand away from your head.

“t-that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he briefly scratches at the back of his neck before shoving his hands into his pockets as if to keep himself in check, “your.. firsts should be special.”

you can’t help but let a smile grow on your face before nodding with gleaming eyes up at him.

“well anyways, i’ll make sure to have a hand ready whenever you have a job for me,” you say, making him cough on his spit and quickly clear his throat to regain composure.

“right,” he nods with pinched brows, as if conflicted, “i’ll—uh— make sure to look for some assignments for you.”

“thank you,” you smile, gaze flickering down at his pants once again, face suddenly growing serious making gojo follow your eyes, “oh no, you have a stain on these.”

“oh,” gojo holds his hands out with a nervous chuckle as you sink down to your knees in front of him, “it’s no big deal, it’s fine. just got some— uh— mayonnaise on it from my sandwich.”

“no, no, these had to be more than a couple hundred dollars,” you glance up at him, brows raised, surprised by how unbothered he seems about ruining his expensive pants.

gojo gulps and shakes his head with shaky breaths, “i’ll just buy more— it’s really nothing you need to worry about.”

“i don’t mind, i actually have a little trick that’s been passed down in my family,” you explain with a smile, “it seems silly but it really works!— mayo you said?”

“yeah, mayo. but, seriously—” gojo cuts himself off with a sharp gasp, his eyes widening in shock, freezing with hands hovering in the air, as if unsure of where to settle them as you press your lips to the stain and start sucking on it. he can feel you even lap your tongue at it skillfully as your eyes flutter shut in concentration while occasionally tilting your head to find a better angle as if this were completely ordinary.

his eyes flick between the classroom door and you, your mouth pressed against his upper thigh— terrifyingly close to where his hard, throbbing dick is getting even harder with every suck of your pretty little mouth on his cum stain.

as if being slightly brought back to earth when the thought arises that someone could walk in, he tangles his hand into your hair and gently nudges you to stop with a ‘ah— ah no no no, wait,’ despite the way he can’t help but roll his eyes back softly. and even though the tug on your hair lacks any real conviction, you still do what he asks and pull back, licking your lips as you gaze up at him.

before he can even say anything, you gesture at the stain and he glances down to see that it’s now non existent, you sucked it all out, the thought making his dick pulse out a glob of pre into his boxers.

“all gone,” you smile up at him, acting unaware of his hand still tangled in your hair, “see? nice trick, right?”

he gulps as you stand, making him take his hand back awkwardly and shove them both into his pockets in attempt to cover his protruding dick. he can’t help but be thankful for that silly rumor going around about him now that he’s popping a very obvious boner, hoping that rumor is aiding to make it seem like maybe he’s just that big naturally while soft instead of being terribly hard right now.

“r-right— uh— thank you,” he nods, pursing his lips briefly as he grapples with what just happened. thanking you for sucking his cum out of his slacks without your knowledge of what you actually just ingested causes guilt but not as much as it sends blood to his cock.

you nod and smack your lips briefly with a laugh, “weird tasting mayo.”

he almost chokes on air at your words, making the apples of his cheeks flush pink, “o-oh, yeah i get the—um— vegan.. kind.”

you hum with a sweet smile, “it’s actually pretty tasty.”

and now he actually does choke on air, making him cough and curl into himself as he tries to catch his breath.

“professor? you okay?” you ask as you lay a comforting hand onto his back, unable to push away the amused smile on your expression now that he can’t see your face as he’s huddled over.

he finally catches his breath and exhales deeply before gulping and standing straight once again.

“yeah- yes,” he clears his throat, “you should probably get back to your dorm, it’s late.”

you glance back at the clock and then nod with a smile.

“oof— it is late. thanks again for being so willing to give me extra credit, i’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

you approach the exit with a growing smile before pulling the door open. holding it wide, you glance back at him over your shoulder, your expression warm.

“you’re definitely my favorite professor,” you compliment sweetly before turning back to the door.

he lets out a chuckle that doesn’t sound so genuine, prompting you to stifle a snicker as you walk through the door. you can't help but relish the thought that he has no idea you've been teasing him all along, believing himself to be the perv when, in reality, you've been subtly planting ideas in his mind since the moment you stepped into the room.

“have a good da— night,” he calls back, stuttering over his words, fully aware that you’ve already slipped out the door and likely out of earshot.

frustration and embarrassment he hasn’t felt since his highschool days washes over him as he drags his hands down his face, muttering at himself, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

he quickly winces at the realization that his hand likely still has remnants of cum on it and he snaps it away from his face with a grimace before gathering his things to go home. maybe he’ll call nanami to confess his sins, not that he’s a priest, but he would undoubtedly have an earful to say about it. it feels like he deserves some kind of punishment for allowing a student to unknowingly taste his cum.

you can’t help but clasp your hands over your beaming smile in disbelief and amusement as you pace out of the hallway, practically bursting to call nobara and share every detail of what just happened.

———

what did i just write🧍‍♀️

title: save me.

pairing: childhoodfriend!katsuki x reader

katsuki has always saved you, his princess.

the first time you asked katsuki to save you was in kindergarten.

you'd fell and scraped your knees after some other little boy shoved you to the ground, upset that you had taken the swings from him earlier. you were in tears as you begged, "save me kacchan!" as his eyes widened and a feeling he couldn't describe overtook him, he scared off the other boy, happily taking the praise from you as you looked at him stargazed, in awe of his strength.

from that day on he swore to protect you, in all the games you'd play, he'd be the knight, you'd be the pretty princess in the tower, and his gang of friends would be monsters, trying to attack you.

he'd superglued your hands together at recess once too, just to keep you with him. he smiled as he said, "now we'll be together forever!" the reprimanding the two of you faced because he did so was worth it in his opinion, as the message stuck throughout the years.

it manifested in his protective nature over you never ceasing even as you two aged. in middle school the guy who'd been rude to you to the point of tears in biology came to you the next day, shakily begging you to forgive him. guys wouldn't look your way, terrified to even upset you. when you confronted katsuki about it? he'd deny it, say you must've done something yourself.

katsuki felt you were the only one who was his equal, the only one he wanted by his side on his journey to become number one.

that's why he was glad to be with you in u-a, why he 'let' you apply without the public humiliation he'd inflicted on izuku.

since you two were together constantly due to the dorms, you'd do everything together. you'd study together, train, sit next to eachother in class, eat lunch together. you'd even developed a habit of napping in his bed, waking up with horrible 'bedhair', not knowing it was because he'd play with it when you were fast asleep.

and as you two graduated, becoming pro-heroes, getting married. opening an agency together, plans for children on the way.

plans that were all thrown out as quickly as they were conceived.

the last time you asked katsuki to save you was when you were bleeding out in the destroyed streets of the city. debris and destruction surrounding you as you struggled to even mutter the phrase. "..s-save.. me." you could barely see him, let alone see the heartbreak and despair in his reaction.

everything hurt, your body could barely process why. maybe it was the fact you were being impaled on a blade of steel, brought forth by the villain who'd caused this madness in the first place.

"you're.. you're gonna be okay." he said, equally for yourself and him. trying to convince himself this was all a nightmare, one he'd hope he'd wake up from soon.

but as he looked over at you, processing the fatal wound in your stomach. he knew he couldn't be selfish and lie to you a second longer.

his words came out cracked as he confessed, 'i.. i don't-- i can't help you.'

how dare you? how dare you try comforting him in your last moments, reaching out to coddle his face with the hand that wasn't mangled, softly smiling and ignoring the blood cascading down your mouth as you dedicated your last words just to him. "i love you.. you've always- been my knight, katsuki."

he felt your hand drop, but he rushed to pick it up. he had never felt so hopeless in his life, he always swore to protect you.. and yet? he failed. he was a broken man as he was escorted away from your corpse, only your ring to serve as a permanent reminder of what he lost.

he was a broken man as he tried and miserably continued life without you, seeing you in everything, yet never feeling you again.

the only form of solace he would ever get was to find that villain, and to pummel him into the ground. and he did so, feeling so gratified in the moment, as if he'd served justice in your honor.

but all the blood he'd shed would be worthless,

for nothing could bring back his pretty princess in her tower.

alt ending!

entranced.

katsuki x fem! reader.

through all stages of his life, katsuki was entranced with you.

katsuki was destined for greatness. everyone told him so, it was engrained in his mind from the moment his quirk manifested.

as a kid, he was top of the hill always, king of his crew, every game they'd play would leave him the champion. he was the fastest, the strongest, the coolest.

his ego fluctuated with every new person he'd meet, how he felt none could match up to the god-given power of his, until his last year of junior high you joined his class.

you, who hung around deku, not minding that he was quirkless.

you, who he found so entralling.

you didn't really socialize to the other classmates, so he didn't know what your quirk was..

at least not until the teacher announced you and deku were applying for U-A beside him. he scoffed, "you two? heroes? don't make me laugh, maybe you'll be lucky enough to be assistants at my agency, and that's a huge if, quirkless idiots."

"i'm not quirkless, and midoriya isn't an idiot. so take your foot out of your ass and learn to respect people." you grabbed midoriya's hand and guided him out.

that was the first time you ever spoke to him and he didn't have a rebuttal.

he glared as you two walked out the hallways together, his pack of goons followed him as he walked down the alleyway. they ran away when he got captured by the villain.. but you. you and deku ran against the crowd to go save him. despite how he insulted the two of you.

that was the first time he'd seen your quirk. behind deku who was aimlessly scrapping the gooey flesh of the villain attempting to take him over, you had taken to making magma rock, that turned to lava upon contact, and burned the flesh of the villain. this caused the villain to create an opening, that allowed allmight to save him.

he didn't talk to you after that, he didn't have the chance. the most you'd given him after that was a nod.

he saw you everywhere and in everything now. in the orange flowers, in the dandelions, in the way the clouds shaped.

he wasn't looking for you in the entrance exam, no way. but when he saw the familiar silhouette of your body next to deku's, he felt his heart race. you looked amazing, your body a bit more toned now, he assumed youve been training alongside deku all this time.

he wasn't looking at you.. but, he saw the look on your face as you pouted, mouthing to deku the session you were placed in. he was in the same one.

he wasn't looking for you or anything, but when he spotted the aftermaths of your quirk, referring to the massive amoungs of molten iron from the pointed robots, he sped up.

the sight of you in action sent cupid's arrow through his heart.

you, now covered in the magma rock yourself, with your hair being the main source of the lava pooling around the exam center. the robots turning to nothing as you blast each shot with pinpoint accuracy, the small sighs you'd occasionally let out birthing fire from your mouth.

there was now a range of symbols, red and apparent, marking your body. from your face to your arms and even your legs. he was in utter awe of the chaos, yet elegance of your quirk.

you were breathtakingly horrifying.

as soon as time was up, he'd gotten the top score of course. but it wasn't by a landslide as he'd hoped, because you were only 0.5 points away.

he'd hoped to see you again. and he did, in class 1-a, you'd taken a spot next to deku again, and a girl with pink cheeks. he tsked as he put his feet on his desk, prompting a guy with engines on his legs to reprimand him.

he was deeply moved whether you used your quirk, whether it was in the quirk physicals, team battles, or mock missions.

he didn't know how or why, but he'd managed to become friends with you. along with the rest of his group, or the people that followed him around and forcibly made him their friend, you'd hang around.

his conversations with you were usually short, he didn't know how to talk to you. you made him feel weird, a feeling he never really understood.

not until their first encounter with villains that is.

the second they were teleported, he was on a mission to look for you. kirishima walking behind him as he tried to find you and make sure you were okay.

but when he saw you cornered by a group? he went rabid, sending shot after shot onto them until they were unconscious. he helped you stand up. "you okay?" he held your hands in his.

"i.. im fine bakugo. thank you."

he felt his face flush, he was lucky his hands were covered by his outfit, because he was sweating inhumanely. you finally let go of his hands, making him sigh before you suggested, "let's go regroup with the others, k?"

he nodded, and joined back in the fight.

he got more comfortable with you after that, holding your hand seemed to be casual for you two now. he sat beside you at lunch, his hand on your thigh as you two ate. you trained together, studied together, hung out in his room together.

napped together once, his heart leaping out of his chest when he realized it wasn't a vivid dream, and that you really were next to him.

when he was kidnapped you were apart of the group who saved him, giving all for one a nasty burn on his bald head.

after that, he realized how you were on his mind constantly.

he wondered if you ate, if you slept, if you studied, how you scored.

when you were training at the agencies if you'd be safe, he knew you were capable, but because of the destructive quality of your quirk you couldn't use it often.

he'd confess his nightmares to you on late night calls. how the phantom pain of being suffocated would sometimes come back to him, how he hated being approached from behind.

and he'd go to bed, his heart racing when you confessed yours. "honestly.. my biggest nightmares are about losing you."

you were even on his mind when he died. alongside all-might and deku, stood you. he wanted your validation, he wanted to be a hero to you, that's what he thought about in his last moments.

when he was revived, he saw you in the hospital. you were alive. except for the severe burns on your arms from your body's over exertion, the only other wound was in your stomach.

his heart ached as he saw you. there was a gash in your stomach.

after weeks of rehabilitation, he couldn't take it anymore.

he bowed his head to you, confessing his feelings that had been boiling over for years. your arms were still bandaged and one of his was still in a cast. you grabbed his face, pulling him up to yours before planting a gentle kiss on his lips. you kept him there after, looking into his red eyes.

"i've liked you too for a while, bakugo."

"katsuki."

"...katsuki."

you started dating. he worked to strengthen his hand, as you worked to up your bodies tolerance for your quirk. throughout the years you'd grown even closer. he got you a gorgeous promise ring, scratching the back of his head as he said, "it's just a placeholder for the next one. so, sorry if it's--" you cut him off with a hug and a kiss.

you graduated alongside eachother, where he gave another speech and you had to try your hardest not to burst out laughing at the memory of his first one.

you both worked hard, becoming pro heroes, and surprisingly

becoming popular because you two were dating.

you'd constantly be caught out together. photos of katsuki's smiles as you smear frosting on his nose, you two laying down on a picnic blanket and staring into each others eyes, you two walking around the streets.

sometimes you'd catch him watching your fights. could you blame him? he thought you were gorgeous, always. but especially when you were fighting. the look on your face, your actions, your confidence,

it'd send him spiraling.

you attended gala's together, him at your side. you've received thousands of modeling contracts, but you only accept ones that'd let you pose with katsuki.

you still made him nervous after all this time, so he'd audibly gulp whenever you circled him, striking poses so he'd laugh.

you became the nation's couple, which shocked the two of you to no avail.

he proposed to you on your 5th anniversary. true to his word, the ring was extravagant, it glimmered from all angles. he explained, looking into your eyes as he held your hand, "i could never find anything as gorgeous as you, but i hope it comes close."

your wedding was huge. you actually had two, one for close friends and family, where his mother took the reign to plan everything since you two were so busy.

and a huge public one, media and journalists allowed to see the million dollar wedding you two had to celebrate your years together, and katsuki's undying infatuation with you.

he was wrong though, because he did find something as gorgeous as you.

your beautiful baby girl that you welcomed to the world.

Megumi Imagine where...

You were sitting with your friends, laughing at something Yuuji said. The group was loud and lively, everyone talking over each other. You reached for a bottle of juice, twisting the cap, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried again, frowning a little, hoping no one noticed your struggle.

Megumi, beside you, was talking to Maki. His voice was calm as usual, discussing something serious. You thought he wasn’t paying attention to you, so you kept trying to open the bottle quietly.

Then, without a word, Megumi's hand reached over, taking the bottle from your grip. He kept his gaze on Maki, still deep in conversation, and with one easy twist, he opened the bottle for you.

You blinked, a bit surprised, as he handed it back, his fingers brushing yours for a second. You smiled softly, murmuring a quiet “thanks,” but Megumi only nodded, still talking to Maki.

You thought he wouldn't notice, but the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips told you he saw everything. He always did. Even in the middle of the noise and chatter, he always paid close attention to you.

When Sanemi finally broke the news about having a wife, many of his colleagues seemed almost… worried for the woman. If you had been there, you may have been upset, because they didn’t know the Sanemi you knew.

Your Sanemi spent his nights fighting demons and his days in your arms, covering you in kisses and worshiping the ground you walk in. He was the most gentle a husband could be, holding your hand when you walked down flights of stairs and kissing the top of your head every chance he got.

Every single morning when he came back to you, he had something to show for it. Sometimes it was as simple as a piece of candy he bought while patrolling, or as extravagant as a shiny new hairpin or silk kimono. You would call yourself spoiled, but Sanemi would tsk and say you weren’t pampered nearly enough.

No one knew the gentleness of his hands, the soft caress of his lips like you did. Those hands that had slain so many demons held your hips down ever so gently as he fucked into you, promising that this time he’d give you that baby you so desperately wanted.

He’d kiss your temple after you were thoroughly stuffed with cum, then hold you close, tracing his finger along your belly. “That’s where our baby will be, sunshine.”

You couldn’t necessarily blame others for assuming your hulking man of a husband was a brute, he was covered in scars and had a resting bitch face to match, but you can’t judge off of appearance alone. That angry face melted into a content smile every time you held it in your hands, his arms moving to wrap around your waist.

If only they could see him through your eyes, maybe they wouldn’t judge so quickly.

Megumi's growing habit or rather his fatherly instinct kicks in whenever he sees or hears you walking up or going down the stairs he would quickly offer his hand for you to hold so he can gently guide you without bumping your growing tummy because he doesn't want you to get hurt.

His instincts are accurately true, because you tend to get yourself into trouble everytime as sample like reaching up to grab your hidden cravings inside of a small box but your husband instantly reached it for you before it it falls on top of your head and scolds you in soft gentle manner without making you cry because of your hormones tend to mixed up.

He sighed and leaned down pulling up your shirt or rather his shirt because you kept on stealing it from his wardrobe but he finds it cute kissing your sweet sprouting beautiful belly full of your and his love baby talking to his sweet little angel to not to get your clinginess but rather your beautiful face.

Because everytime he sees you he swear to himself that he will always make you laugh to see those smiles all over again.