Jerking Megumi Off.

jerking megumi off.

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MDNI

Edit for the people who need everything spelled out for them… MEGUMI IS AGED UP, any age over the legal age that you want him to be, idc…

standing behind megumi, completely bare from the tips of your toes up to your flushed red neck, letting him guide your hand up and down his cock, teaching you how to please him the way he likes.

he's equally as red, his whole body burning up from embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing him in such a state. if it was anyone else, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea.

but its you, and he'd do anything for you.

so when you came to him with wide eyes and a shaky voice, asking him if he’d teach you to get him off he couldn’t help but say yes, his cock stirring in his pants at the thought of your hand on him, squeezing and—

“a little tighter” he mumbles squeezing your hand. “you’re not gonna hurt me”

you stand on your tippy toes, looking over his shoulder as you tighten the grip you have on him, moving your hand up and down his length.

from this angle you can see everything. from his abs down to his V line and the thatch of black hair that leads towards his heavy cock, sitting firmly in the palm of your hand.

“w-what else?” you question, and the corners of megumi's lips tug up into a small grin at how you sound even more

you chose to ignore the amusement you hear in his tone when he replies, “use your thumb and play with the tip— it’s sensitive”

you can see his fat purplish tip and the string of his sticky white pre that drips from the tip.

at that, your thumb comes up and begins rubbing at the head, smearing the sticky pre down the length of his shaft. megumi sucks in a breath and for a second you think you’ve done something wrong— hurt him somehow and you’re about to let go, but when your eyes flick up towards his face you realize it’s anything but.

you can tell he's into it now, his eyes are hooded, lips parted slightly as moans out for you.

“yeah baby fuckkk— just like that,” he groans, letting his head fall back to lean on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets you take the reins. the hand on top of yours falls to his side, as you pick up the pace, hand squeezing him just a little tighter.

your thumb moves away from his tip, wanting to take your time, knowing that wasn’t something you could do if he came too fast and from how loud he was getting it was clear he was getting close. he lets out a shudder as the intense pleasure begins to fade slightly, breathing slowing down.

it doesn’t take you long to find a steady pace, hand jerking up and down, every so often applying pressure to his tip that leaves him groaning as bursts of pleasure shoots through him.

he’s practicing leaking pre, leaving your hand sticky with his arousal, making the glide of your hand easier.

after megumi gets his breathing back to normal he takes your hand in his once again.

“I like to have my balls played with.”

his hand guides your further down to his sac and you instantly take it into your hand, squeezing and toying with each of his heavy balls.

megumi moans, his body tensing as he attempts to hold himself back, not wanting to cum too soon. It was a futile attempt, especially with you standing so close to him, your scent radiating off of you and clouding his senses.

the feeling of your body pressed against his, your hard nipples rubbing against his back as you squeeze your legs together, desperately searching for friction to your aching clit as you watch megumi get closer and closer to the edge.

the sounds he's making going straight to your core.

megumi reaches behind him, pushing your legs apart just enough to allow his hand to slip through, calloused fingers instantly finding your sticky clit.

“mmm megu'—” you whine, legs bucking beneath you as he rubs your clit. you don’t even realize your hand has stopped moving, simply holding him in your hand.

“keep goin” he commands, bucking up into your hand and you instantly start to stroke his length once again, going back up to focus on the tip.

“m’close” he murmurs quietly, you feel his dick twitch in your hand. the hand playing with his balls squeeze just a bit tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to have him letting out a long groan, deep and broken when it’s paired with a squeeze to his tip.

“shitttt” that’s all the warning you get before megumi is going rigid against you as thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip, landing on the floor in front of him. your hand continues to stroke him through his orgasm, moving up and down slowly until his hand wraps itself around your wrist, stopping your movements.

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.

one thing jk's nipples are gonna be is hard

“Eat it or no tv for you.”

“No!”

“Oh cmon you eat this every day, why not now?”

“I don’t want it! You didn’t do it right!”

“It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Ain’t no right way to do it baby.”

Toji narrows his eyes at the little girl who refused to eat the sandwich he made for her. Correction: the fifth sandwich he had made because “he didn’t do it right.” If he had known this is what having a kid would be like he would’ve studied the basics of sandwich making for toddlers. Ridiculous.

“Well can you tell me the way you want it? I’m not sure what the right way is.”

“I want it like how mommy does it!”

“Well mommy is at work.”

“Then I don’t want it.” The face she makes remind him of you, she’s basically a carbon copy of you personality wise. That tiny face scrunched up when she hears or sees something she doesn’t want. It was amazing how easily she could get anything she wants, Toji was wrapped around her tiny little finger.

“Okay I’ll do it again.” He repeats the same routine of grabbing the bread and putting the peanut butter then the jelly on it. Thinking maybe he cut it wrong he decided to cut it in fours. A bad idea by the way because he is immediately hit with the hysterical cries of his toddler.

“Wait hey hey no no- don’t cry. What’s wrong? Did I do it wrong again?”

“I’m telling mommy you starving me and being a meanie daddy!”

“I’m not a meanie daddy, that’s not nice to say.”

“Uh huh!”

“Nuh uh…. Brat.” Toji scoffs as he looks around to find anything to soothe the crying child. “You want chicken nuggets? Pretty sure we got the dino ones you like so much.”

“I want- *sniffle* sandwich.”

“I made you like a 100 of them but you didn’t want them.. I don’t know what you want me to do-“

The sound of your keys turning in the door cut off his words, Toji lets out a sigh of relief. “Baby.. thank god you’re here.” He greets you with a kiss and helps you out of your outerwear, a routine you two have developed over the years.

“Why is she crying Toji? Awww what’s wrong sweetheart?” You pick up the child, holding her close as you wipe the tears off her cheeks.

“Daddy won’t feed me!”

“Wha- don’t lie to your mom like that. She just didn’t want what I made her that’s all.”

Turning to him you raise an eyebrow “what did you make for her?”

“What she always eat for lunch. Fuckin nasty ass peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“Don’t call her food nasty in front of her. How did you make it?”

“Like how any normal person makes it.” Toji shrugs, wondering why such a question was asked.

“You have to do it a certain way or she won’t eat it.

“So she said. So I put the peanut butter-“

“No it’s the jelly first Toji.”

“What the fuck? I didn’t know there was a certain way.”

You place the child back down, gathering the ingredients. “It’s always jelly first then the peanut butter, on separate breads too don’t mix them and don’t put too much. Then cut the crusts off and cut them into three rectangles.” You say as you perfectly demonstrate how to make the sandwich. “If you don’t do it like this she won’t eat it. Learned it the hard way- here you go sweetie.”

“Thank you mommy!”

Toji scoffs at the scene, earning a giggle from the little girl happily munching away. “Tch… yeah okay I’ll remember that next she demands it.” He pretended to be annoyed but the happy giggles from his little girl cause his mouth to turn on both corners. Honestly he has a lot to learn about his dad business but having you by his side definitely makes things easier.

“Seriously, ain’t shit easy about raising a child.”

“What can I say? I’m just the best”

“Hm yeah she definitely gets her attitude from you.”

crave to do it again // touya todoroki

when just for a second, it all felt so simple

a/n: geettt this shit out of my drafts!!! is this the fucking angst yall wanted!!!

@bbluefllame 😔

At 12:00AM, it was unusual for the city to go quiet. Aside from the buzzing lamp post, crickets chirping, and the occasional chatter from the nightcrawlers down the street, you wondered where everyone had gone. Maybe they knew what was to come.

The cool night breeze was circulating through your apartment along with soft ambient music emanating from your record player. You were fists deep in various articles of clothing, crumple up notes, loose photos, and more all haphazardly thrown in dingy cardboard boxes.

"Touya, look." You call his attention away from the wad of paper in his lap. "You have to wear this tomorrow." You held up the "If lost, return to Y/N" shirt you had gotten him as a gag gift for his birthday last year.

"Asshole." He chuckles. "If any part of that shirt survives, they'll come for your ass next."

"Heavy on the if." You mutter, sadly smiling to yourself, letting your hands fall back into your lap.

You tightly clutched the black fabric, looking closely at the worn cracked lettering before bringing it up to your nose, deeping breathing in his faint lingering scent of citrus and cedar mixed with laundry detergent.

You two were sat criss-crossed on your bed with a box sitting in between you two. You occasionally glanced up at him to see his furrowed brows focus on whatever item he had in his hands, silver hair damp from the shower, and him sporting an old band tee you two passed back and forth as a pajama shirt. You wished you could take a picture of this moment.

Everything almost seemed normal. Almost. You tried not to let the dread brewing in your stomach overwhelm you, but your hands had been clammy all day, you couldn't keep any food down, and you were sure you were less than 12 hours away from a breakdown.

"Gross. Don't know why I kept this." He flips a photograph over to you, revealing a creased family photo of the Todorokis burnt around the edges, but every single face still legible. "Throw it away for me, yeah?"

"Absolutely fucking not." You snatch the photo from his fingers, peering closer to see him in his childish glory- missing teeth, tousled hair, and a wide grin that had diminished with age.

It was rare for you to see a photo of Touya before he joined the league. You never told him, but the night he revealed his full name to you, you scoured the internet for any photos from his previous life, but only ever finding the haunting school photo from news articles announcing the death of pro-hero Endeavor's eldest child.

"I'm not throwing any of these things away." You held the photo close to your chest, tears suddenly welling up in your eyes the moment they met with his own.

His eyes widen for a split second, before faltering into a soft, regretful gaze.

"There it is." He sighs.

Touya shoved the box in between you two off of the bed, reaching over to take you in his arms.

"You know, I was waiting for the waterworks all fucking day, I was almost sure you were looking forward to me dying."

"Shut up, I'm fine." You say, tilting your head back, letting the tears settle back in your eyes.

"You don't have to be fine, sweetheart." He mutters, bringing your head into his chest, holding you tight. "We can talk about it, you know."

"It's just.." You begin, pulling back with tears streaming down your cheeks now "..look at how perfect this is, Touya." You plea. "Look at us." You gesture to the mess of your bedroom with his belongings and boxes scattered around.

In another timeline, it would have been an image of you two moving in together. It's your first night. You're figuring out how to split the closet with him. Maybe you can have breakfast for dinner for the fun of it. You'll try to sleep early, but you two are giggling to yourselves until early in the morning. You two would sleep in until mid-afternoon, and spend the rest of the day in bed. He'd stay.

"I know. I'm sorry." He whispers, reaching up and swiping away your tears with his thumbs.

You knew that despite the end coming near, it was all still perfect- meeting him, knowing him, falling in love, spending his last moments with him. Last moments. The dread was creeping up your throat. How can you make time stop?

Touya knew deep in his heart that if there was anything that could have saved him, it would have been you. If he had just been a bit less rotten, if he had been born in a different hour, in a different body, he would have married you, given you a quiet life, and anything else you wanted. He wouldn't have this festering darkness inside of him threatening to overcome with every passing second. He wouldn't have been born with a single purpose. His life could have been yours for the taking.

"Promise you don't hate me for this?" He hangs his head to rest on your shoulder.

"I could never hate you." You rake a hand through his hair, letting the other rest on the nape of his neck. "I'll think about you for the rest of my life. I'll celebrate your birthday every year. I'll talk to you every night before I go to sleep. I'll tell everyone about my partner and how big his heart was and how he made the stars shine for me. I'll love you forever."

"In another universe, I would have given you everything." He murmurs.

You two silently settled in bed, tightly wrapped in each other's arms as you laid your head on his chest, and taking in his heartbeat by memory, being sure to lock the gentle sound in your head.

"What do you think you'll do after?" He breaks the silence, hand running up and down your back.

"Maybe find God or something?" You sigh. "I dunno."

"Don't make me fucking laugh." He chuckles, almost making your eyes water again from hearing and feeling the deep vibrations through his chest. "God does not want to find you, that's for damn sure."

"Well ask him for me, when you see him, yeah?"

"So sorry to break this to you, babe, but I don't think I'll be meeting God tomorrow." You could hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I guess I'll see you in hell then." You look up at him, meeting his eyes in the moonlight leaking in from the open window. "Put in a good word for me."

"That's more like it." He presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

You two silently ask yourselves the same question. Will he be fine after tomorrow? Will you be fine after tomorrow? Will that little boy in the burnt photo be at peace? Will you be able to go on?

"Any last secrets?" You ask, half joking. "Or any burning piece of information you've been keeping from me? Now would be a great time to unpack."

He takes a moment to think.

"When you go through the rest of my clothes, in one of my pant pockets, I still have the wrapper of the condom we used from the first time we fucked."

You slap your palm down on his chest.

"Dumbass." You laugh. "Why the fuck would you still have that?"

"What can I say, I'm a sentimental guy. Put it in a scrapbook or some shit." He shrugs, smiling at the thought.

"Yeah. I will." You half laugh, half choke out, silent tears now staining his shirt. "I have a secret too."

"Go for it."

"What if I told you I already killed your dad so there's no need for you to go out tomorrow?"

He shifts his body to face you now, slinging an arm over your waist and pulling your body flush to him. The air was filled with you silently sobbing behind your hands. You told yourself you'd be brave for him, but the bitterness in your heart had been leaking. It was circulating in your blood, and you couldn't pretend like it wasn't killing you from the inside anymore.

"I'd say, cool." He presses his cheek against your forehead. "And then we'll stay like this all day. Or maybe we'll take the first plane ride out of Japan. Wherever you'd wanna go, I'll follow you."

"Yeah. I'd like that." You say in between sniffles. "I think it'd be nice to leave Japan. Just for a bit."

You wondered if this was acceptance or denial. You could laugh and cry about it now that you're in Touya's arms while you two were waiting for the sun to come up, but for a long time, you saw the headlights in the distance, and the humming slowly growing louder in anticipation as tomorrow crept closer and closer.

In this moment, you accepted that you would grieve for him much longer than you were able to love him. You denied that he would be leaving you in a few short hours. You accepted that this was a necessary evil that had to be taken care of. You denied that this was the only way.

In another universe, you won't have to miss him. In another universe, he doesn't have to die for this. In every single one, you love him for as long as you'll remember him. In every single one, he'll survive through you.

You eventually hear his breathing slow down into deep inhale and exhales through his mouth. This was your last act of love for each other while you two walked this Earth together- a quiet night in each other's arms.

You memorized the patterns of his scars, the way they brushed against your skin. The color of his eyes you would see in the ocean. His silver hair still clumped in your hairbrush sitting on your bathroom counter. His love dazed expression is captured on a photo strip hidden in your wallet. Maybe he'll live forever, after all.

He'll wonder how long it'll be under you check your glove department for his letter. Knowing you, it'll at least be a few weeks.

"Idiot." He thinks to himself.

Your laugh echos in his head right before he's engulfed in flames. He wonders if your homemade cream could heal these new burns. Can you see him now? Tell him you're proud. Death isn't so sweet as he imagined, he wants to tell you, but seeing your face dissolve with his vision as he burns up is as close to heaven as he'll get.

In the end, you were right. You always were. It is nice to leave Japan. Just for a bit.

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🧍‍♀️