"I'm Not Sure At All This Is Safe, But I Want To Try It Anyway."

Bucky needs to be dominated

Mine

18+ Minors dni

For my favorite persons writing challenge, you’re amazing @chrisdrysdale  Please reblog, like, comment and let me know what you think   💕  

Switch Bucky x jealous f reader

Prompt 42. “I need words baby boy”

Warnings: Smuttt, bit of switch Bucky/ slight dom reader, angsst, swearing, choking, some slapping, brief mention of daddy kink, fluff!!

A/N: I’m a sucker for hidden relationships sorry also I actually don’t hate Sharon, I just needed to think of a name

Word count: 3.4 k 

Bucky tiptoed down the hall cautiously, wondering if he should even bother knocking on the door. He knew damn well he didn’t even deserve the couch today, let alone sharing the bed with you. Maybe he should just set up camp on the compound lawn. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up the second it happened. He played his part well. Too well. His attempts to weasel out a conversation ended up with a foot in his mouth. Both feet. Might as well add a hand in there too, Bucky knew he should have stopped talking ages ago. He cringed and mentally slapped himself thinking about Tony’s party moments ago.

Keep reading

Y/N: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it

Pietro: Just rip the bandage off.

Y/N: It’s Wanda.

Pietro: Put the bandage back on.

From: https://incorrect-quotes-generator.neocities.org

Zayne has had enough of us

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon. 

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role. 

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention. 

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps. 

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect. 

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious. 

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject. 

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words. 

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head. 

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.  

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined. 

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking. 

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.  

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right? 

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple. 

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered. 

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. 

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind. 

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body. 

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust. 

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect. 

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well. 

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high. 

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss. 

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response. 

A bath sounds nice.

MY TRIO THEY'RE REUNITED DO NOT SEPERATE !!!!!!

This definitely happened.

Bucky Barnes : You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you.

Steve Rogers : I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.

Bucky Barnes : Absolutely not.

This is incredibly relatable because my love language is also sharing food. You want my fries? Take all of them babe. Oh you want my mash potatoes? Have at it sweetie.

bucky doesn’t share food- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!sam wilson x reader, platonic!!natasha romanoff x reader, platonic!steve rogers x reader, platonic!sam wilson x bucky barnes

warnings: cursing, i think that’s all?? this is a crackfic lol

about: based off friends, bucky doesn’t share food.

god, you hated when sam was right.

you despised how he would shove it in your face for two weeks and parade around the compound like he just won the fucking lottery or something.

Keep reading

I LOVE IT WHEN JJK AND HAIKYUU CONVERGE

“Are… Are you sure that you don’t want me to go with you?” 

At Choso’s question, Yuuji Itadori stops packing his bag for school and turns to face him. Is he nervous? Of course, but he’s in high school now. If he doesn’t start doing things on his own now, then he never will. After placing one of the bag’s straps on one shoulder, he gives him an easy smile. “I’ll be fine, aniki,” he says softly. “I promise.” 

His older brother doesn’t look too convinced, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, he smiles in return and ruffles his pink hair. “Alright, have a good first day. Call me if you need anything.”

Yuuji rides to school on his bike—a neat birthday present from his uncle Sukuna. That guy is wild and reckless, but anyone could tell that he had a soft spot for both Yuuji and Choso, and made sure that they had everything that they needed. When he arrives, he maneuvers his way through crowds of equally-nervous first years, already being approached by second and third years looking for members to join their clubs that meet after school. Choso recommended to Yuuji that he join a club, but he didn’t know exactly which one to join. 

A boy his age walks past him, and Yuuji stops, his eyes slightly widening as he takes in the sight of him. Though he’s wearing a uniform like everyone else, Yuuji decides that it looks the best on him. He’s tall and fair-skinned, and his dark hair is spiky—a little messy, too, but it looks good. His eyes—the prettiest pair that Yuuji has ever seen in his fifteen years of living—are a dark blue and framed with long lashes, and Yuuji’s immediately trying to memorize the exact shade. 

Whoa. 

He wants to say hi, but he notices the headphones on the boy’s ears. Should he introduce himself? Hi, I’m Yuuji Itadori. I think you’re pretty- What? No, that’s ludicrous. Hey, dude, I’m Yuuji, we should totally be friends, by the way you’re cute. Ugh, still a bit ridiculous. He needs to think of something different. Maybe-

“Hey, don’t hit it over there! The door’s wide open!!” A student from inside the gymnasium shouts, and suddenly, a sports ball flies in the direction of the boy Yuuji’s been stupidly staring at. It’s coming too fast, and when Yuuji warns him, it’s not loud enough for him to hear over his music. 

Thinking quickly, Yuuji dashes and then jumps high, slamming the ball away before it could hit him in the head. Because of it, he crashes into him, and they both fall to the ground. The boy underneath him groans, and Yuuji gasps, scrambling to his feet and holding out a hand to help him up. “I’m so sorry!” He says, a little breathless from his running and from how cute this dark-haired boy is, “That ball was going to hit you, and um, I tried calling out to you but your headphones were on. Are you alright?!” 

He blinks a couple of times, then looks over at the ball, which another student is retrieving, a little stunned from watching Yuuji hit it. “I’m alright,” he mumbles. “Thank you.” He gently grabs his hand, and Yuuji pulls him up. As he watches him brush his uniform off, numerous sentences to break the ice rapidly bounce back and forth in Yuuji’s mind. Finally, he settles on one. “Uh, nice headphones.” They do look quite expensive. His parents must make a lot of money.

“Thanks,” he mumbles again. Hm, not much of a talker. 

Yuuji doesn’t mind. He flashes him his usual grin. “What’s your name?”

“Fushiguro.” 

Ah, last name. “I’m Itadori.” 

“Nice meeting you, Itadori,” he says, then readjusts the bag on his shoulder. “See you around. Thanks again.” 

“Oh, uh, see you later!” Yuuji calls as he begins to walk off, feeling very excited all of a sudden. He’ll definitely be seeing him around. 

He smiles to himself, then begins to brush off his clothes. “Fushiguro, huh?” he mutters, then becomes aware of just how heated his face was. No, just a hot day. Totally not blushing. 

“You there!!” 

Yuuji looks over to see the student that retrieved the ball he hit earlier pointing at him. “Uh… me?” he asks after looking around to see if anyone else was nearby.

“Yes, you!” The student is more on the shorter side, with bright orange hair and a determined grin. “What’s your name?” 

“Yuuji Itadori. I’m a first year.” 

“Shoyo Hinata, also a first year!” He exclaims excitedly. “Are you thinking about joining the volleyball club?! That spike was incredible!!”

-----

a/n: yuuji and shoyo would've been the BEST of friends. the way i screamed when reading jjk265 and learning that yuuji grew up in (or around?) sendai. his ass should've been at karasuno worrying about making it to nationals instead of fighting these damn curses lmfaoooo

His voice is literally so sexy??

bucky is back<3

Did somebody say "just eat"?!?!?!?

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🧍‍♀️