Best Friend!Gojo Always Called You By Cute Lil’ Nicknames - Always. Everything From “pipsqueak”

Clingy

✽ HEAD OVER HEELS ⸺ ₍ g. suguru ! ₎

⸝⸝⸝⸝ You'd grown accustomed to the sacrifices of dating a firefighter. The late-night calls, the sudden departures, the silent prayers every time he walked out the door in his uniform. But tonight felt different. Maybe it was the way his dark eyes lingered on you as he pulled on his jacket, his usual reassuring smile faltering just a little. Or the way his voice softened when he kissed your forehead and whispered, "I’ll be back soon. I promise." ★ [N]SFW + firefighter!geto + fem!reader + established relationship + blowjob + unprotected sex + size kink + petnames ( baby, pretty girl, mama, angel ) + light mocking + suguru is in love.

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room, illuminating the unmade bed where you had been moments ago, curled up against Suguru, savoring the quiet intimacy of the night. You could still feel the lingering warmth of his body against yours, a memory cruelly interrupted by the shrill ring of his emergency pager.

A fire. Urgent. He had to go.

You'd grown accustomed to the sacrifices of dating a firefighter. The late-night calls, the sudden departures, the silent prayers every time he walked out the door in his uniform. But tonight felt different. Maybe it was the way his dark eyes lingered on you as he pulled on his jacket, his usual reassuring smile faltering just a little. Or the way his voice softened when he kissed your forehead and whispered, "I’ll be back soon. I promise."

Now, the quiet of the apartment felt deafening, Suguru's absence stretching across the space like a tangible weight. The clock on the nightstand ticked mercilessly, each second a reminder that he was out there, in danger, while you were helplessly safe at home.

Sleep was impossible.

With a frustrated sigh, you threw off the covers and padded into the living room. The couch wasn’t comfortable—Suguru had grumbled about replacing it more times than you could count—but it offered a better vantage point to keep an eye on the front door. You wrapped yourself in the blanket Suguru always used, his scent faint but comforting, and curled up, staring at the shadows dancing across the walls.

You tried distracting yourself, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, but every notification made your heart leap, hoping it was him. Eventually, the phone slipped from your grasp, and you sat in silence, letting your thoughts wander.

Images flashed unbidden in your mind: flames licking at buildings, the heavy weight of his gear, the heat, the danger. You hated these thoughts, but they always came, no matter how much you tried to push them away. Suguru was brave—fearless, even—but bravery didn’t make him invincible.

The hours dragged on, the night growing colder. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn’t make your neck ache. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, but you didn’t dare fall asleep. Not here, not while he was still out there.

Then, finally, the sound of a key turning in the lock.

You bolted upright, heart pounding, as the door creaked open. Suguru stepped in, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway. He looked exhausted, soot streaking his face and dark hair sticking to his forehead, but he was here. He was safe.

"You're still up, mama?" he asked, his voice rough with fatigue but laced with concern.

You didn’t answer, instead rushing to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. He stiffened for a moment, then melted into the embrace, his arms encircling you tightly.

"I was worried," you murmured against his chest, your voice trembling despite your efforts to keep it steady.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I’m okay. I promise." He stands there with you in his arms for a few more seconds before gently pulling you away from him. "Gonna get cleaned up, okay? Wait for me in bed.”

You watched as he trudged toward the bathroom, his shoulders heavy with fatigue, his steps slower than usual. The door clicked shut behind him, and the faint sound of water running soon followed. It was tempting to join him, to help him wash away the stress and grime of the night, but something about the way he carried himself made you hold back. Suguru needed a moment to breathe, to let the night slip away in solitude.

So, instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen. You set the kettle on the stove, the gentle hum of the heating water a small comfort. Pulling out his favorite mug, the one with the chipped handle that he refused to part with, you prepared everything for tea—something soothing to help him relax before bed.

The kettle whistled just as you heard the bathroom door open. Suguru emerged, his hair damp and sticking to his temples, dressed in a loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked cleaner but still tired, his dark eyes meeting yours with a soft, grateful smile as he crossed the room toward you.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured, taking the mug from your hands. His fingers brushed yours, and the warmth of the moment settled between you like a quiet reassurance.

“You’re always doing so much for everyone else,” you replied, your voice tender. “Let me take care of you for a change.”

Suguru chuckled softly, his lips curling into that familiar grin. “You already do. More than you know.”

You led him back to the living room, and the two of you sank onto the couch, sitting closer than necessary. He sipped his tea in silence for a moment, his free hand finding yours and threading your fingers together. The weight of his palm against yours was grounding, the calluses on his skin a reminder of everything he gave to keep others safe.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not until you came back.”

He takes another sip of his tea before putting the mug aside and tapping his thigh, you quickly straddle his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. His hands are warm and they cup your cheeks in a loving manner, fingers brushing your hair away from your face.

“I hate that you have to worry,” he said, his tone heavy with guilt. “But I love knowing you care that much. It keeps me grounded out there.”

Your chest tightened at his words. “I do care, Suguru. So much. I just… I wish I could do more.”

“You do plenty,” he said. “You give me a reason to come home.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away, leaning into his touch. “Just promise me you’ll keep coming home.”

“You’re not getting rid of me so early, baby.”

The kiss you share is filled with a warmth and softness Suguru learned to exercise with you, leaving little kisses on your cheeks and jaw before pressing his lips against yours, soft yet sure, with an unspoken tenderness that made your heart ache. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling gently in your hair, anchoring you to him. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss in a way that sent a wave of warmth cascading through your chest. The taste of him was familiar and comforting, with a hint of the tea he’d just sipped lingering faintly on his lips.

You separate from the kiss, hands sliding down to his chest covered by the black loose t-shirt.

“Wanna take care of you,” you whisper as if you’re telling him a secret, feeling his fingers deepening in the soft flesh of your hips.

You crawl out of his lap to kneel on the carpet, curious hands caressing his thighs for a moment, feeling his strong muscles under your palm, before pulling down the hem of his sweatpants just enough to free his cock, standing in its full glory in front of your eyes. You get closer to him, wrapping your small hand around his girth and that's enough to make Suguru groan, as if he’s been waiting for this moment the whole day and wasn’t able to keep his reactions to himself. You both shared an intimacy so deep that it was almost like a ritual, your lips kissing the head of his cock softly and then wrapping around it in a sucking motion.

Suguru spreads his legs further and leans back on the couch, one hand covering his mouth briefly and the other one holding the back of your neck firmly but without making you do anything other than lick his shaft from the base to the tip. His chest goes up and down with rapid breaths, knowing that if he locked eyes with you, looking up at him with the most pure adoration as you try to fit more of him into your mouth, he would lose his mind completely.

"Fuck," he breathes, your warm mouth enveloping him with more ease as you coat his dick with your saliva, your hand masturbating him everytime you have to pull away from him to take a breath. You're about to put him again in your mouth when he softly pulls on your hair. "C'mere," he commands, hands on your hips to make you stand up before him. He loses no time, fingers pulling down your panties in less than a second, leaving you only in his oversized Deftones t-shirt that you always wore to bed.

Suguru was a man of few words when you started dating him.

He spoke only when necessary, a habit that often left you second-guessing and filled with an uneasy longing for more—more reassurance, more affection, more of him. That quiet reserve had planted seeds of insecurity in your chest, leaving you yearning for the pieces of him he kept hidden.

But now, after all these years, Suguru couldn’t hold back—not when you were straddling his lap, your lips crashing into his with a passion that stole the very breath from his lungs. His hands gripped your waist firmly, grounding himself in the intensity of the moment, and his words—soft, raspy, and unrestrained—spilled between kisses, leaving no doubt of how deeply he felt for you.

"Gonna sit down on my cock, baby?" he asks against your lips, sliding his hands under your shirt to squeeze your breasts firmly. You can only whine at that, rubbing yourself down on his cock settled between your folds, the movement of your hips is enough to make you both sigh in pleasure. Geto grabs your waist to align you with his lap, his other hand holding his cock as he pushes you down on him. “Just like that, angel, nice and slow.” 

“So big,” you complain with a pout, pressing your face in the crook of his neck.

The stretch always has you on the edge, your own arousal making it easier for him to slip into your tight walls but it doesn’t make it less painful. You know it’s temporary, and your boyfriend makes sure you’re okay while peppering your neck and jaw with wet kisses.

He licks his lips, looking down at where you’re both connected, “Just a little bit more, pretty girl.” A few more seconds and he’s completely inside you, he quickly rewards you pressing his lips against yours again.

Suguru always liked being in control. Especially when you’re on top of him, with your pretty teary eyes and making such pretty sounds, he can’t hold back from taking control and making you remember why you’re his. He lifts you by your waist just enough so he can thrust his hips upwards against you, his cock slipping out of you slowly and going back in a swift motion. It feels like you’re floating, all you can do is grip his shoulders and pray he doesn’t break you. Geto’s eyes stared at the way your cunt swallowed him whole, the abused walls spasming around him with every move. 

“Oh my—Suguru!” you whine out, your body being jolted everytime he pounds into you. “Please, please, please!”

“Wanna cum, baby?” his hand reaches down to your pussy, fingers rubbing your swollen clit with quick movements. You feel the familiar heat boiling inside of your body as he pulls you closer to him, hips hammering into you slower but with the same prior strength. “Such a needy girl letting me fuck you as I want, hum? You like when I use your little pussy to get off?” You nod and bite your lip tauntingly, watching his eyes with a glint of pure desire in them as he smirks at you. “Go on, then. Cum all over your man, baby.”

His words are nothing more than a command to which you obey immediately, his raspy voice combined with his ruthless thrusts and long fingers harshly rubbing your clit send your mind into short circuit, a white filled haze that makes you lose your breath and your legs shake. Suguru holds you tightly against him with his beefy arms, using the small space he has between your body and his to thrust into you and rub against your cunt, cumming with a groan that’s stifled by the skin of your neck.

You listen to his breath calming down, hands playing with his hair while he holds your tightly. When he finally pulled back, it was only enough to rest his forehead against yours. Both of you were breathing a little heavier, the room filled with the quiet intimacy of the moment. His eyes searched yours, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

“I’m so in love with you” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I love you too, baby” you replied, your voice steady despite the lingering flutter in your chest.

And with that, he kissed you again—just once, quick and sweet, as if sealing a promise.

Escort! Satoru- part five

Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader

Warnings- mutual pining like a mf, obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, mutual pining, lots of yearninggg, kissing (I KNOW YAYYY) dry humping, teasing, fingering, public play, fluffy and cute- there will be a part six! (final) pretty woman vibes 🤭

<<<Part Four

Escort! Satoru finally does it, he asks you on that date, watching the shock in your eyes, the trembling of your lips as you step back, and Satoru feels it then, the hammering of his heart. Is it too late? Should he have reached out again to you after the first night, when you didn't answer? His blue eyes peer at you over those glasses, as the sunlight beats down on your skin, making his cheeks just a little reddened, striking across his pale skin.

Escort! Satoru eases his hands gently off your face, when you swallow nervously - he hurt you so badly that night, the embarrassment of asking him to hold you, dying for a mere kiss on the lips. How could you be so foolish, truly, you had to try to forget him in any way you could, after sleeping with him and knowing he would never be yours, always sharing him, he was just there because of your money and maybe he enjoyed it. But it wasn't more.

Escort! Satoru realizes how much he fucking missed you now, as if some void is filled by your presence, but you lower his hands gently, holding them for a moment. 'I was so...' stupid, you were stupid 'I'm very sorry I asked you for things you never do,' you sigh, looking around, seeing people walk by. 'I should have respected your-' Satoru stops you then, tilting your chin up, your gaze focused on him. 'I should have held you, okay? I'm sorry...' you feel your eyes fill with the tears, as words you've dreamed of are spoken, and they feel just like that- a dream. 'I want a real date, could we?'

Escort! Satoru eyes you when your phone rings, and you look down nervously. 'I have a date tonight, the first in... years' Satoru steps back now, glaring at you. 'With who?' you blink in surprise. 'Why does it matter to you? Do you think after months I wouldn't ever wanna try?' Satoru grips your wrist, thumb brushing against the veins gently, sending shivers down your spine, as he tries to compose himself, he has no right to be so mad, so jealous. 'Fine, then give me a date after' he murmurs, desperate for you, how can he see you and not try? After everything he's been yearning for appears before him, and he knows how badly he fucked up. 'I don't know...' you want to, god you do, but you also know how badly Satoru can hurt you, uniquely. 'Please just, give me a chance to explain myself, to be myself and not...' he trails off, the wind blows gently and a little blossom lands on your hair, which he sweetly brushes away. 'One chance'

Escort! Satoru is furious thinking about anyone touching you, though it's toxic and unrealistic in every aspect. His job was to touch, though he'd throw it all away if you asked, god he would, because he doesn't find joy in any of it. No amount of money fills this emptiness, but he never thought he'd have a chance with you - only to ruin it. 'I'll go out with you this weekend, but you pick the place, and pick me up' you say softly, his heart thuds as he nods eagerly, desperate and pathetic for you - something he's never been until you ruined him with just your energy, your body, that laugh he'd love to have back. Memories of your night fill him then, as he aches to touch you, to know you, to kiss you.

Escort! Satoru plans the date to a tee, but the whole time he's wondering - where are you going, and with who? Would you prefer them over him? Meanwhile you're trying to get through that date, mind wandering, you just tried to open up for the first time since Satoru broke your heart - even if it was your own fault. You try to smile, and enjoy him, a handsome man that surely was perfect on paper, and interested in you. As the night goes on and the drinks pour, you think to yourself, you should try, letting him kiss you at the end of the evening, wondering what you'll feel. It's nice, but it's nothing like just being near Satoru. Frustrated almost to tears, you're laying in bed that night, as the man in your head that you almost pushed down enough, is back front and center.

Escort! Satoru can't stand it, knowing you're on a date, he almost texts you so many times before he caves - 'ready for our date?'- he smirks, hoping your with whoever it was. But you don't answer him for hours, until you finally write him - yes - and that's it, no sweet banter like the two of you had. It's different, had you really already moved on? He trembles as he texts you - 'how was the date?' - and you write - 'it was fine, any jobs tonight? - and that's when he realizes you're mad. The sweetest girl he met is so clearly mad. He hadn't taken a job tonight, and he's cancelled his week, but he gets it clearly. - 'no job tonight, I'm excited to see you' - He's never said that to anyone. You heart the message, emotions catching, excitement but apprehension in equal parts, you just don't know if he's serious, you're so scared to let go again.

Escort! Satoru picks you up that night in his car, some little Maserati sports car that looks like it goes way too fast. You can't act like he's not sexy as fuck as he steps out of it, opening your door and grinning at you, but you try to hold back, smiling with a 'thank you' as you slide in next to him. Satoru's hand craves to press on your thigh, but fuck if he's not nervous, he hasn't had a date since he started this career despite his job being to go on dates, not a real one, not with someone he asked. He's damn near shaking with his nerves, trying to play it off, as he drives through the quiet streets, smiling over at you with a quirk of his lips. 'You look beautiful' his words make you flustered, nervously tugging a bit on the gorgeous dress you're wearing, glittering like the stars in the sky - fuck your very skin itself glitters. 'you're saying it truly this time?'

Escort! Satoru glares now, foot on his break, scowling at you. 'what do you mean truly? you think I didn't mean any of it?' you blink back unexpected tears, looking out the dark tinted window as he drives once more. 'It was your job, that's all, and I told you I took it too far, you shouldn't feel bad that happened. I - ah!' he skids to a stop suddenly, pulling off the side of the road, and unbuckling your seatbelt so fast you can barely register. He's got you on his lap so fast, as cars whirl by, shaking the fucking car and shocking you further, as he handles you like it's nothing. You brace your hands on his chest, so nervous now, hands clenching the black jacket of his tux, breaths faster and faster. 'You are beautiful, I never said that because of a job' he swipes away your tears, lips hovering over yours, as he exhales, breath tickling your lips. 'What are you doing, Satoru?' your whisper is weak, as he drags you even closer, and his eyes dart to your lips. 'What I should have done that night'

Escort! Satoru slams his lips on yours then and there, you feel it like hot, electric shots going through your body when he does, when he's pressing those plush, glossy lips on yours, and you're shattering over him, lost in his kiss. Satoru has never felt anything like it, like finally kissing you, his tongue slipping in your mouth, drinking up your every cry, every gasp, as you roll your hips just right, and he feels the heat he's been dying for against his aching cock. 'Fuck...' his hushed words are met with your little cry, which just has him dragging you down harder, ready to devour every sweet inch of you, but barely being able to drag himself from your lips, gasping as he pulls back, eyes meeting yours, glimmering now. 'Satoru you... kissed me...' you're close to crying now, trembling as he sighs, cupping your pretty face, the one that's haunted him. 'I've wanted to since I first saw you'

Escort! Satoru keeps kissing you, over and over, desperate and messy, you almost cum just from that friction against you, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, as his huge hands press into your skin. 'I need you, fuck I need you sweetheart- god you have no clue' you're easing back, struggling to compose yourself. 'Am I so VIP?' you tease softly, and he feels it then, the soft way you're asking - not judging, but scared. He exhales, resting his head on yours, shaking his head and pulling you down again. 'I'll gladly delete my whole fucking profile, for a chance with you' his words sink in fully. Your cheeks are hot under his gentle touch. 'I just don't... Satoru, you don't have to do this for me. I understand...' He kisses you once more, before your phone rings.

Escort! Satoru glares, and you can't help but giggle. 'Are you jealous?' he just sets his jaw, as you look over and see it, holding the phone with a shaky hand, and he pulls you harder on his cock, having your eyes roll back in your skull. 'Tell him you're on a date' he whispers, gripping you so tight, before easing you to sit back in your seat, kissing you over and over. 'Let's get there, okay?' you're trying to compose yourself, seeing him shift and wince while he drives once more, pouting. 'You enjoying my pain, sweets?' you can't help but giggle again. The date is pretty and serene, the restaraunt on the roof top, swathed in moonlight. Satoru feeds you carefully, the two of you sharing dessert, talking and laughing like the first time he fucking met you - when he knew then, something was so special about you, something he could never pin fully, but he sees it, with how the candle light hits your face, your sweet blush as his hand slips up your thigh.

Escort! Satoru is not happy to learn you've had a kiss, and your amused little smile is quickly lost, when he slips his fingers between your thighs, and you wildly look around, as he smirks at you. 'That's cute, you kissed? did you like that?' he's taunting now, possessive gaze, that you can't get enough of, fuck you want all of him, even though you're scared, so scared to be hurt again. He's pressing his fingers against your panties, which are soaked, watching as your eyes get lidded, hand gripping the thick white cloth, and he slips under then, feeling the heat he'd been dying for, leaning in close. 'Asked you a question, hmm?' you lean closer, hips shifting, jerking as he thumbs your twitchy little clit, making you gush. 'Would you be mad if I liked it, Satoru?' he sighs, slipping two fingers in your slick hole, making you almost moan in the fucking restaurant now. 'You're wet for me, aren't you, all me?' He's curling them now, acting so casual as a waitress refills your wine, and you pray no one hears the squishing noises your juices are making.

Escort! Satoru can't help but suck you off his fingers, right before he makes you cum, and you're throbbing around nothing, wanting. You're clenching your teeth as you watch, as if he's finishing his dessert- and when he tastes you again!? He can barely control himself, eyes dilated while you sink into his tastebuds, ready to finally give you what you want, and need, and deserve, fuck you so good you can't function, and hold and kiss you. Satoru slips his lips on yours in front of the restaurant, and you taste yourself, whining into his lips. Suddenly a girl sees him, a frequent client who'd gotten too obsessed, and walks right up to him, crossing her arms. He eases back in the seat, as you look down shyly, unsure of who she is. 'I'm on a date' his words make your heart flutter now, as she glares. 'ah, so you do kiss? was this some special package, do you know how expensive you are?' you bite back a smile, and Satoru just grins, shaking his head like a little shit. 'It's different, she's my girlfriend.'

Escort! Satoru blushes when you whisper 'your girlfriend, huh?' in his ear moments later, as a very angry client stomps off, and he brushes back your hair, hard body against yours, studying your face. 'Would you... be my girlfriend?'

I need one more part for these two - it'll probably be all sex lolll hope you enjoy this one!

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♯┆𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 .ᐟ — 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’ve faked it with every guy you’ve ever worked with. Every scene, every moan, convincing, but never real. Then Bakugo happens. One scene turns into something else entirely and now you can’t stop thinking about him, and you’re starting to wonder if it was ever just a scene.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content. smut, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, praise, light degradation, dirty talk, light choking, possessiveness, semi-public sex (on set), creampie, light aftercare, porn industry setting, blurred emotional lines, language.

PART TWO

You weren’t nervous. Not really.

You’d done this a hundred times. With all the big names—Keigo, who liked to make everything a performance; Touya, who had a thing for whispering filth like he was telling you a secret; even that wild three-way with Shindo and Hitoshi that still topped your subscriber requests.

So no, this wasn’t nerves.

This was something else.

Maybe it was the name on the call sheet. Bakugo Katsuki.

He was the guy. The one who didn’t just act like a powerhouse on camera—he was one. Every scene he was in got clipped, shared, memed, thirsted after. The kind of raw intensity people couldn’t stop watching. Or jerking off to.

You included. Not that you’d admit it out loud.

Okay. Maybe once. When you were wine drunk and swiping through his catalog. Maybe twice. Maybe more.

You’d watched him wreck other girls. Watched the way his hands gripped hips like he owned them. The way his mouth dragged moans out like he knew exactly what buttons to push. You always told yourself it was research. Prep for the inevitable scene.

Now here you were, in the makeup chair, legs crossed, phone in hand, trying not to stare at the clock. You didn’t even get this antsy for award shows.

You shifted your hips a little. God, you needed to get a grip.

“Five minutes, Y/N,” someone called from set.

You gave a casual wave, sliding your phone into your bag. Cool. Easy. You’d done this before. You were the girl. The one who always looked good, always knew her angles, always gave the most convincing moans. No one ever knew they were fake.

No one needed to.

You only did this for the money. Never caught feelings, never chased orgasms. You could finish on your own time. You always did.

But when you walked onto set and saw him—arms crossed, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, like the cameras were already rolling—your breath hitched.

And then his eyes locked on you.

Bakugo didn’t smile. He smirked. All sharp teeth and slow drags of his gaze. Like he was already undressing you in his head.

“‘Bout time,” he said, voice low and cocky.

You raised a brow. “Don’t get cocky, Dynamight.”

He stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your chin up. He smelled like something spicy—cologne, sweat, and danger. His smirk widened.

“Too late, princess. I’ve seen your work. Bet I could make you actually cum.”

You laughed. It came out a little shaky. “You think you’re the first guy to say that?”

“Nah,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek like he had every right to touch you already. “But I’ll be the first one to prove it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach flipped anyway. Cocky bastard. You weren’t new to bold claims—hell, you’d heard that same line from half the industry. But something about the way he said it, all low and sure like it was a promise, made your pulse skip.

You turned away before he could see the heat rising to your cheeks.

The scene started like any other.

Lights. Camera. Action.

You were on your back, legs spread, eyes half-lidded. Your moans were perfectly timed, your hands moving just how they were supposed to.

Bakugo was above you, teasing at first, fingers trailing up your thigh, smirking like he had all the time in the world. You tried to stay in character. Tried to focus.

But then his fingers actually slipped inside, and holy shit—

You bit your lip.

That felt… different.

His fingers weren’t just thrusting. They curled. Pressed. Rubbed against the spot you usually had to hunt for on your own. And when he looked down at you, his eyes weren’t blank or performative. They were locked in. Watching every twitch of your mouth. Every hitch in your breath.

“You always fake it this early?” he muttered under his breath, so low only you could hear.

Your stomach flipped. Your thighs tensed.

“What?” you managed, voice barely a whisper.

Bakugo chuckled. It rumbled low in his chest.

“You’re tight,” he said, dragging his thumb over your clit just right. “But you ain’t clenching like you mean it. Not yet.”

And then he sucked on your inner thigh.

Not for the camera. Not for show.

For you.

Your back arched on instinct.

“Relax,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin. “I got you.”

And you hated—hated—how badly you wanted to believe him.

He didn’t start slow.

He licked into you like he was starving, like he’d been starving, and this was his first meal in weeks. His tongue was hot, wet, relentless—flicking against your clit in firm, practiced strokes that had your legs trembling before you could even bite back the first moan.

You weren’t acting.

Not anymore.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, white-knuckled, and your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but all that came out was a broken little gasp.

“Oh fuck—”

He hummed against you. Smug bastard.

“Don’t hold back now, princess,” he murmured, dragging his tongue up your slit slow, then latching back onto your clit like he owned it. “Let’s show ‘em what it looks like when it’s real.”

You whimpered. Whimpered. You didn’t do that.

Not even when Keigo pulled out the toys. Not even when Touya did that breathy thing in your ear.

This was different.

You tried—tried—to keep it together, but his mouth moved like he already knew every inch of you. Tongue swirling, lips sucking, fingers still working inside you like he wasn’t giving you a fucking choice. He knew exactly where to press, where to flick, when to slow down and when to pick it back up again.

And it wasn’t even for the camera.

It was for you.

Your stomach coiled, tight. Too tight.

Your breathing hitched. Your thighs started to shake. You were going to—

“No,” you gasped, voice panicked, eyes fluttering. “Don’t—fuck—I’m—”

“Yeah you are,” Bakugo growled, pulling back just long enough to look at you. His mouth was wet with you, lips swollen, eyes wild. “C’mon. Don’t fake it. Just fuckin’ let go.”

And then he sucked—hard—right over your clit.

Your body snapped.

The orgasm hit like a wave crashing through you, ripping the air from your lungs. You didn’t fake it. You couldn’t. Your moans were raw, broken, punched out of you like the wind got knocked from your chest. You shook, hands flying to his hair, thighs locking around his head as your back arched off the bed.

And he didn’t stop.

Kept going. Licking, pressing, dragging your orgasm out like he wanted to ruin you.

You came again, again, before you’d even come down from the first.

Your voice cracked. “Bakugo, I—I can’t—”

“Yeah you can,” he muttered, not letting up for a second. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good. Look at you.”

You couldn’t. Your vision blurred. Your whole body was buzzing, on fire, shaking like you’d lost control of every single nerve ending. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You didn’t lose it like this.

But god, he was still licking you through it, fingers still curling right there, his voice low and wrecked as he talked you through it like he wanted to brand the sound of your orgasm into your memory forever.

“You gonna cum for me again?” he asked, voice gravel and heat, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You nodded, desperate, lost.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say it’s real.”

Your lips trembled.

“It’s real,” you gasped, breathless, broken. “It’s real, fuck I’m gonna—”

And just like that, you came undone again. Loud. Messy. Helpless.

Bakugo didn’t stop until your hips were twitching, your thighs were soaked, and your moans turned into soft little sobs of overstimulation.

The lights above you still burned hot. The cameras were still rolling. But everything else felt far away—muted, blurry, unreal. Your legs were jelly. Your chest rose and fell like you’d just run a marathon. And Bakugo was still between them, licking his lips like he’d just tasted something forbidden and planned to do it again.

Your brain was still fogged when he stood, stretching to his full height.

Then his hands were back on you, big and warm and so sure, gripping your waist like he owned it. He flipped you over effortlessly, face down, ass up, skin still hot and damp with sweat. Your thighs trembled when they spread open again, already overstimulated and soaked.

Bakugo slid his hands up your back. Slow. Possessive.

“You feel that?” he murmured, leaning over you, his cock grinding against your ass with lazy pressure. “That twitch in your legs? That little shake?”

You nodded weakly, eyes fluttering.

“That’s mine now.”

Your breath caught as he pulled his hips back. You barely had time to process before the thick head of his cock was pressing against your entrance—hot, heavy, and already wet from you.

“You ready?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

Then he pushed in.

Slow. All the way to the hilt. Letting you feel every inch. Stretching you open, filling you to the fucking brim. You choked on a moan, fingers gripping the sheets like your life depended on it.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, buried deep inside you, letting your pussy throb around him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, hips flexing. “So fuckin’ tight. Can feel you squeezing me already.”

You were. He hadn’t even started moving yet and you were clenching around him like you didn’t want him to leave.

Then—he moved.

A slow drag out. A sharp thrust back in. Deep. Deeper. Your mouth dropped open. No sound came out.

“That the spot?” he murmured, hips rolling again, hitting the same angle, slow and deliberate.

You nodded, gasping.

“You better fuckin’ tell me when you’re close,” he growled, pace still maddeningly slow. “I wanna feel it. I wanna hear it.”

He reached around and pressed two fingers against your clit, rubbing soft, teasing circles that made your arms give out. You dropped to your elbows, back arching like he’d wired you for pleasure.

Then he started really fucking you.

Not fast. Not rough. Just deep. Every. Single. Stroke. Reaching places that made your eyes roll back. His hips snapped forward with just enough force to jolt you up the bed, his fingers never leaving your clit.

You moaned into the mattress, voice high and broken.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “That’s the fuckin’ sound I wanted.”

You were spiraling. Every thrust, every rub, every low growl in your ear sent you closer to the edge.

“Bakugo, I—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah?” he grunted, hips picking up speed, still hitting that spot that made your toes curl. “Then fuckin’ cum for me.”

You shattered.

You clenched around him so tight he groaned, biting down on a curse as your body trembled under him. Your moan punched out of your throat, high and wrecked and real.

But he didn’t stop.

“Oh fuck—fuck, wait—” you gasped, hips twitching as he kept thrusting, dragging you straight into another orgasm with no break.

He leaned over you, voice low in your ear. “Not fakin’ now, huh?”

You shook your head wildly, whining into the sheets.

“Bet you never came like this on set before,” he said, voice rough. “Bet no one’s ever made you cum like this off it either.”

He wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled gently, just enough to lift your head.

“Say it.”

You could barely speak. “No one. No one but you.”

“Damn right.”

His thrusts sped up, rougher now, deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, joined by your wrecked little gasps, your whines, the slick mess between your thighs.

“You hear that?” he said, low and smug. “That fuckin’ sound your pussy’s makin’? That’s all me.”

You whimpered, and he slapped your ass—not hard, just enough to make you clench again.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You’re gonna make me cum just like that.”

And then he slammed into you. Hard. Once. Twice. Over and over. You screamed—literally—as another orgasm crashed through you, your body locking up, eyes rolling back.

“Fuckfuckfuck—” he gasped, and then pulled out just in time to stroke himself twice, thick ropes of cum painting your back, his voice ragged as he came with a low, wrecked growl.

You collapsed.

No faking. No poses. Just you, ruined on the sheets, shaking and soaked and completely fucking gone.

Bakugo dropped to his knees behind you, panting. He grabbed a towel off the edge of the bed, wiped you down gently—so gently it made your chest ache.

“You good?” he asked, voice quiet now. Careful.

You nodded, still dizzy. Still pulsing. Still floating.

“I came so many times I lost count,” you whispered, dazed.

He chuckled, cocky and low. “Good.”

You rolled onto your side, trying to catch your breath.

“That was supposed to be a scene,” you mumbled. “That felt like a fucking movie.”

Bakugo leaned in, kissed your bare shoulder, then smirked against your skin.

“Baby,” he murmured, “that was just the warm-up.”

You snorted softly, still breathless. “You’re insane.”

“You love it.”

Your legs were still trembling, body wrecked and used and buzzing. But something else was humming under your skin now. That ache in your core—not from need, but from power.

You rolled over, slow and deliberate, dragging your fingers down his chest. His eyes tracked every movement.

“Get on your back,” you whispered.

Bakugo raised a brow but didn’t argue. He leaned back against the pillows, smirking like he thought he still had the upper hand.

His hair was damp with sweat. His lips were swollen. His chest rose and fell in hard, uneven breaths. You’d never seen him like this.

Your grin widened.

You leaned down and kissed him—soft, slow, way too good to be acting. Then you sat back, hips lifting off him, and slid down his body.

“Where you goin’?” he rasped, half-laughing, half-breathless.

You looked up at him from between his thighs, eyes dark, lips parted. “Didn’t say I was done with you yet.”

His breath caught.

You licked up the underside of his cock—slow, teasing, wet. He twitched in your hand, muscles tensing as you took your time, letting your mouth work him like you had something to prove. And maybe you did. Maybe you just wanted to see him fall apart the way he’d done to you.

You looked up, mouth wrapped around the tip, and saw it—the crack in his composure. The soft clench of his jaw. The desperate twitch in his thigh. The helpless sound he made when you sucked just right.

“You’re so sensitive, you’re not gonna last,” you said around him, lips brushing the head.

His fingers gripped the sheets. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

You didn’t.

You kept going, messy and perfect, tongue flicking and mouth sinking deeper, until he was panting, until he was cursing under his breath, until his hips jerked off the bed.

And then you pulled off, slow, dragging your tongue over the tip one last time.

He made a noise—wrecked.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his hips again. His hands found your thighs like muscle memory, gripping tight.

You leaned down, lips brushing his jaw.

“Beg.”

He froze. “What?”

You rolled your hips once, just enough to feel the slide of his cock against your slick entrance.

“Say it,” you whispered. “Tell me you want it.”

Bakugo swallowed hard. His voice was low, rough. “I want it.”

You licked the shell of his ear, teasing. “Not good enough.”

His hands trembled where they held you. Then he growled, breath hot.

“Please.”

You stilled.

“What was that?”

He gritted his teeth. Looked up at you like he hated how much he meant it.

“Please,” he repeated. “I want you. Need you. Fuck, I’ll say whatever you want—just ride me.”

You smiled. Real. Slow. Lazy and smug.

Then you sank down on him—deep, wet, tight—and his whole body arched beneath you, a broken moan punching out of his throat like you’d ripped it from his chest.

His hands flew to your hips.

You rode him slow. Sweet. All control. And when he finally came again—loud, raw, completely undone—you kissed him through it. Held him through it.

And when he whispered your name afterward, soft and stunned, like he didn’t know what just hit him

You smiled. Because for once, it wasn’t just acting.

Neither of you moved right away. His arms were still around you, chest rising and falling under your cheek, skin damp with sweat, muscles twitching beneath your fingers. Your heart was still beating too fast, and so was his.

Eventually, though, you had to get up. Had to move. The spell didn’t break, exactly—it just faded enough to remember where you were, who you were, what this was supposed to be.

You pulled on your robe in silence, legs still shaking slightly, and glanced at him across the bed. He sat up slow, pushing his hair back, watching you with something unreadable in his eyes. Like maybe he had more to say, but didn’t know how. Or didn’t think he should.

You hesitated.

So did he.

“Um…I’ll see you around,” you said, trying to make it sound casual, even though your voice came out a little too soft.

“Yeah,” he said, standing and reaching for his clothes. “Guess you will.”

Your stomach twisted, weirdly tight, but you smiled anyway. You nodded once, turned, and walked off set without looking back.

You didn’t see the way he watched you go.

Didn’t see the way his fingers flexed like he wanted to reach for you.

Didn’t hear the low, quiet fuck that slipped from under his breath when the door finally shut behind you.

You got home and didn’t even shower right away.

You peeled off your clothes slow, every muscle sore in the best possible way, and collapsed into bed wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie and your post-fuck glow. Your thighs ached. Your voice was half-gone. Your lips were still swollen.

You looked wrecked.

You felt worse.

And yet somehow, the only thing you could think about was him. The way he’d looked at you. The way he sounded saying your name. The way his hands had held you after like he wasn’t ready to let go.

You tried to distract yourself. Pulled up the scene, freshly posted not even an hour ago.

It already had thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments. More than anything you’d dropped in months.

You scrolled.

StepOnMeY/N: Holy shit, that was unreal.

BbyBakuGo: not y/n faking with everyone but bakugo

ToyasToy: Was that real? Tell me that was real.

It was.

You scrolled further.

KeigoOfficial: I feel personally offended. Gonna have to step my game up. Rematch y/n?

TouyaTodo: faked it? With me? damn. i must be losing my edge. hit me up when you wanna make it real doll.

You smirked.

Your DM notifications were blowing up. People you’d worked with. People you hadn’t. Everyone suddenly curious. Hungry. Competitive.

Your stomach flipped. It was fun. It was flattering. But none of it hit quite the same.

Then you saw it.

BakugoK: Already need more from my favorite girl.

You stared at it.

Read it once.

Twice.

A third time, just to make sure it was real.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your fingers went numb. You sat up in bed, heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to escape. Because what the fuck did that mean?

You clicked on his profile. Double checked that it was him.

It was.

No emoji. No game. Just a single comment that said everything and nothing all at once.

Already need more.

Favorite girl.

You slammed your laptop shut and screamed into your pillow. You kicked your feet like a schoolgirl. You laughed—hysterical, breathless, completely losing your mind.

Then you opened your laptop, stared at the comment again, and whispered out loud to no one

“Oh my god.”

Because yeah—you’d done this a hundred times. But this one was different.

➢ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛!𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 ➢

navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! the mha EP!

── .✦ "STUBBORN HEART" ─ Bakugo Katsuki

for some reason i was beefing with mha (dont ask me even i dk why) but we made up sooo here is a lil bakugo content (i missed u boom boom boy) content : one shot. fluff. bakugo being in denial. 658 words

Katsuki Bakugo prided himself on his unshakeable concentration and determination. Feelings were a distraction, a disturbance that had no place in his life while he strived to be the best hero. Yet lately, he was thinking about you for no reason at all.

It began innocently enough—a little joint training here, a mission there. But soon enough, he grew aware of the faint catch in his breath when you laughed, the involuntary tightening of his fists when others stood too close. He brushed these aside as minor irritations, attributing them to anything but the feelings growing that he would not admit.

"Dammit," he growled under his breath, closing his locker perhaps a bit harder than strictly necessary. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

His internal struggle did not go unnoticed. Kirishima, ever the perceptive friend, lifted an eyebrow as he approached. "Yo, Bakugo. You alright? You've been kinda tense lately."

"Mind your own business, Shitty Hair," Bakugo responded, the ends of his ears tinting a light pink. "I'm fine."

But our poor boy wasn't okay. Each encounter with you made him increasingly flustered, increasingly disturbed. He caught himself analyzing each word you'd say, each look you'd give him. Were you being nice? Or was something else going on? Not knowing ate at him, feeding his annoyance.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, he spotted you giggling with Kaminari. A sharp, unwelcome pang of jealousy stabbed him in the chest. His vision narrowed, and the next thing he knew, he was stalking over, his usual scowl darker than normal.

"Hey, Dunce Face," he bellowed, causing you and Kaminari to step back. "Can't you just leave people alone?"

Kaminari blinked, looking confused. "Uh, we were just talking, man."

"Go talk somewhere else," Bakugo growled, his eyes darting towards you briefly before he looked away. "Some of us need to focus."

You observed him, your eyes a blend of amusement and interest. "Alright, Bakugo?"

"I'm fine," he snarled, the lie evident to everyone but him. "Just. get out of my way."

As he stalked away, his mind reeled. Why should he care who you talked to? Why should it infuriate him so? The questions circled and circled, offering no solace.

He couldn't sleep that night. Whenever he tried to close his eyes, your face would pop up, and with it, that infuriating warm sensation in his chest. He snarled, pressing his face into his pillow. "This is stupid," he muttered. "I'm not some love-struck dumbass."

Yet denial could take him only so far. The more he struggled against it, the more powerful the feelings became, until finally he could no longer hold it in.

Backing you into the hallway after class, he took a deep breath, his normal confidence trembling. "Listen," he started, his voice rough. "I don't know how to say this without making myself sound like a damn idiot. I like you. Not in a friendly way. And it's driving me insane."

You blinked, taking in his words. "Bakugo."

"I'm no good at this kind of thing," he went on, staring immutably at the floor. "But I had to tell you. Do what you like with that information."

There was a pause between you, then you edged closer, reaching up to tip his chin up so his eyes met yours. "You're an idiot," you whispered, a smile pulling on your lips. "But I like you too." Relief flooded him, though he would never acknowledge it. "Good," he muttered, a small, real smile cracking his habitual scowl. "About time."

 In that instant, Bakugo Katsuki realized that maybe, just maybe, letting someone into his stubborn heart wasn't as terrifying as he thought.

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN) @cherrysurf

Secret Santa for @cryptid-juzou !! They had maid!Chuuya among the requested prompts and I immediately jumped at that. I really hope you like it! (Some bonuses that didn't make the cut) Thanks to @bungostraydogs-secret-santa for organizing this!

Hi lovely! Can I request Reader suddenly finding out Katsuki liked to be degraded, like maybe she jokingly calls him a “slut” and sees how he’s affected, so she tries to be mean to him in bed and he is waaay into it (if you’re comfortable of course)

Good Boy Gone Bad

You don’t mean to say it.

It slips out between panting breaths, between the messy kisses and the way his hands are gripping your hips like he’s trying to leave bruises there. Katsuki has you pressed into the mattress, arms caging you in, his lips moving hot and frantic against yours, and it’s got your head all fuzzy, drunk on him, on the way he’s all over you.

And then, when he grinds down, rutting against you like he needs it, like he’d die if he didn’t—

It just comes out.

"Fuck, you’re such a slut."

It’s supposed to be a joke. A teasing little quip to match the desperate way he’s moving against you, to call him out for how shameless he is right now.

But then—

Katsuki freezes.

Not in the usual way when he’s about to snap at you, no livid glare or oi, what the fuck? Instead, his breath catches in his throat, and for a second, his whole body goes taut, like he’s just been struck by lightning. His grip on your hips tightens, his head drops forward, and then—

He groans.

Low. Guttural.

Like he liked it.

You blink, staring up at him, the realization dawning slow but heavy. You watch the way his ears turn pink, how his breath comes out shakier than before.

Oh.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Wait a second,” you breathe, your lips stretching into a wicked little grin. You press a hand to his chest to push him up just enough to look at him properly. "Did you just—?"

"Shut the fuck up," Katsuki snaps, but his voice is all wrong—rough, weak, like you caught him in the middle of something dirty. His eyes dart away, and he looks like he regrets everything.

You laugh. You can’t help it.

“Oh my god.” Your grin widens. “You like that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You so do.”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t—”

“You totally do,” you coo, your hands sliding up his arms, then curling around his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “You like being called a slut, don’t you?”

His jaw clenches.

You watch his throat work as he swallows thickly, his breath shaky, his hands still gripping your hips like he’s fighting himself—fighting how much he wants it.

You press closer, your lips grazing the shell of his ear, and you drop your voice into something mocking.

“Oh, you love it, don’t you, baby?” you whisper, just to see what he’ll do.

And that’s when you feel it.

His hips jerk.

Hard.

His fingers dig into your skin like he’s trying to anchor himself, and then another one of those wrecked little groans escapes his throat, unbidden, unfiltered, and—

Oh.

He really likes it.

Your grin turns dangerous.

"God, you’re so pathetic," you taunt, dragging your nails down his chest, relishing the way he shudders. "Grinding all over me like a needy little bitch. You can't even hide how bad you want it, can you?"

"Fuck," he chokes out, his hands flying up to grip your wrists, like he’s trying to get you to stop—but he’s hard as a rock, and his breathing is all over the place, and he looks like he might just die if you stop.

You giggle.

"Katsuki," you purr, tilting your head, dragging your fingers up his throat just to feel it work under your touch. "You’ve been hiding this from me? Hiding how much you love being talked down to like the desperate little thing you are?"

"Shut up," he groans, but his voice is all breathy, all wrecked, like he’s barely holding it together.

"Make me," you challenge.

His hands fly to your waist, flipping you onto your back so fast it makes your head spin, and he’s on you in an instant—hot, hungry, feral.

But then—his lips pause against your skin, and his breath stutters, like he’s waiting.

You smirk, dragging your nails down his back.

"Good boy," you murmur.

And that’s all it takes.

He loses it.

His whole body shudders.

And then—he’s on you.

Katsuki doesn’t waste a second. He crashes his lips against yours, swallowing the laughter bubbling up in your throat, his grip on your hips punishing. He’s kissing you like he wants to ruin you, like he wants to devour every breath you have left—but the way his body trembles against yours?

He’s the one falling apart.

"Oh?" You gasp between kisses, your hands tangling in his hair, yanking him back just enough to see him. His pupils are blown, his breath ragged, and fuck, he's already so gone. "You liked that, huh? Liked being my good boy?"

Katsuki growls, but it’s weak. His hands twitch against your waist, like he wants to deny it—like he should deny it—but then your fingers tighten in his hair, and he whines.

Whines.

"God, you’re pathetic," you murmur, dragging your lips down his jaw, nipping at his skin, feeling the way his breath stutters. "Acting all tough, but the second I get mean, you're melting in my hands like a desperate little thing."

"Fuck," he hisses, his head dropping to your shoulder, his fingers digging into the sheets on either side of you. His whole body is taut, shaking, like he’s holding back.

Like he’s trying so fucking hard not to just give in.

But you won’t let him fight it.

You drag your nails down his back, slow, teasing, then slip your hand between your bodies, palming him through his pants. His hips jerk, a broken moan ripping from his throat, and you giggle.

"Look at you," you coo, rubbing slow, lazy circles over the growing heat between his legs. "You're not even trying to pretend anymore. So easy to break, aren’t you?"

He trembles.

“You love this,” you murmur, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his ear. “You love when I make you feel like a slut, don’t you, baby?”

His breath hitches.

You can feel him losing control, his whole body going taut above you, barely keeping himself together, and it makes you feel so powerful.

“Say it.”

Katsuki shakes his head, his fingers curling into the sheets. “Fuck—fuck, I—”

You yank his head back, forcing him to look at you. His face is flushed, his lips red and kiss-swollen, and fuck, he looks so wrecked already.

Your smirk is cruel.

“Say it, or I stop.”

His whole body twitches.

And then, in a voice so hoarse, so needy, it nearly breaks you—

“I—” His breath stutters, his jaw clenches, and then—

“I love it.” His voice cracks, desperate, barely a whisper. “I fucking love it.”

And god, he looks so ashamed.

But you can see it in his eyes, in the way he’s gripping you like he needs you, in the way he’s already so far gone—

He doesn’t want you to stop.

Your grin is wicked.

“Good boy.”

No Strings Attached

Chapter 2

Nerdjo x Fem Reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI

A/N: Art in banner is by the lovely @/84midnightsun on Twitter

CW: Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Chapter Index

The university’s library was cold per usual — not just the physical atmosphere, but cold in its appearance as well. The unforgiving fluorescent lights looked more like they belonged in a supermarket aisle than a place of study. They ricocheted off the white, marble floor and were nearly blinding. Built-in shelves graced the colorless walls, housing tens of thousands of books.

Despite the lack of warmth and coziness one would hope to find in a library, Satoru somehow still managed to brighten up the room with his presence alone. He sat directly opposite you — his cheek propped up on his left hand while his right furiously scribbled into various notebooks. A long-sleeved black sweater draped loosely across his shoulders with the edges of his collarbones exposed. Tousled strands the color of snow fell across his forehead in multiple directions, stopping just shy of his glasses. His azure eyes never once left the work in front of him.

Somehow, even with his attention fully devoted to the physics textbook in front of him, he still managed to shine. He never even had to try, because everywhere Satoru Gojo went, he always managed to be a source of light. Perhaps that was just one of the many reasons you had fallen in love with him to begin with.

In a way, it was almost like he was the sun. His brightness was always the focal point as he illuminated everything in his path. He was funny and kind — the type of person who would do anything for a friend in need. Whether it be pulling an all-nighter to help someone study or moving a piece of furniture, he was always the first to volunteer. He was a self-assured and confident man, especially when it came to academics. Everyone, including him, knew he was a genius, and that was one thing he was not humble about. And on top of everything else, he was truly the most beautiful person you had ever met.

Yes, Satoru Gojo was the sun — and you had been trapped in his orbit for as long as you could remember.

He was completely oblivious to you staring at him, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was well known that once he started studying, it was damn near impossible to tear him away until he was finished. He had always been that way.

Your gaze traced over him, and you meticulously studied every single detail as if this was the first and last time you would ever see him. From the gentle contours of his cheekbones to the sharp edges of his defined jaw, everything about him was perfect. But it was when your eyes reached his supple lips that memories from the night you two had shared just a week prior came rushing in. The trance you found yourself in was immediately shattered by a harsh ache in your heart.

Immediately following your tryst, the two of you went separate ways for the evening. The next morning, and every day since, not a single word was uttered about what had occurred. Satoru acted as if nothing transpired. You expected as much — he did tell you that it was no strings attached. Regardless, it still burned all the same.

“Satoru,” you whispered in an attempt to gently grab his attention.

He offered no response as he continued penning down his notes. You leaned forward a bit and glanced over what he was writing. Complex equations sprawled across almost two full pages in their entirety. His eyes constantly jumped between the textbook and his notebook, his hand never stopping to take a break as he jotted it all down.

He reached with his left hand to quickly flip over onto the next page. You shot your hand out and were just barely able to catch him before he continued on in his physics-fueled trance. Satoru glanced up at you, his eyes finally meeting with yours. He reached his right hand up, pen in tow, and used his index finger to push his glasses up as they began inching down the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied with a lazy grin. “Did you say something?”

You forced a small smile to match his. “I just wanted to let you know that I think I’m going to head home. I don’t have any more classes today.”

“Okay, sure.” The corners of his mouth turned further upward as his grin grew into a smile. “I’ll see you later then.”

You nodded your head in response and began gathering the books sprawled out on the surface in front of you that you hadn’t even touched since your arrival. The wooden chair squealed as it scraped against the tile below. Rising to your feet, you tucked away everything into your backpack and pulled out your phone to check your messages. Just a couple of texts from Suguru and Shoko in the group chat inviting you to game night at their apartment tonight.

You turned towards the door, phone still in hand as you began to type out a reply, when suddenly your body collided with something. Immediately looking up, your eyes were met with a widened pair staring right back at you.

A blonde girl, about the same height as you, carrying a stack of books immediately backed up, one of her hands now raised. You didn’t recognize her, which was strange. Your university was decent-sized, but still, you were familiar with the majority of the students. She must be new.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Her hushed whispers were urgent and carried a sincere, apologetic tone.

“I’m fine,” you offered with a smile. “I should be the one apologizing. It was my fault.”

“Naori!” You heard Satoru’s voice call from behind you. You turned your head around to see him excitedly pointing to your now empty seat.

They knew each other? He had never spoken about her before, and you two told each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

“I’m so sorry again,” Naori said as her hand brushed against your shoulder, pulling your attention back towards her.

You just offered a gentle smile in return and kept walking past her towards the exit. Before exiting, you glanced over your shoulder one final time at your friend, and your face immediately fell at the sight in front of you.

Neither one of them was studying but instead appeared to be deep into a conversation. Both his notebook and textbook had been closed as he began packing them away in his bag. You saw his hand begin to reach across the table and decided it was enough as you turned your gaze back ahead of you.

Pushing on the door, you exited the library and carefully climbed down the concrete steps. The dull ache in your chest was now replaced by a burning sensation as you felt a nasty emotion take root in you. You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts trying to course through your mind. There was no point in jumping to conclusions about what you just saw, and even though you knew what you were feeling, you refused to give a name to it. Satoru was never yours to begin with.

——————

A gurgling sound could be heard as you felt your stomach twisting itself into knots. You were famished to the point it made it difficult to concentrate on the presentation you were attempting to put together for Professor Yaga’s class.

Immediately after you arrived home, you holed yourself up in your room to get some work done. It ensured there would be no distractions, but more importantly, it ensured that you could avoid Satoru. He came home just two hours after you, and since his arrival, you’ve refused to go out into the common areas.

Was it childish? Absolutely. However, you currently had larger things to worry about, and letting your emotions grow out of control would cause far more issues. So once again, you decided you’d just shove them down and deal with them at a later date. You knew it’d come back to bite you sooner rather than later, but in this moment, it felt like the easiest way to deal with things.

Your stomach gurgled a second time —this one was much louder than the first. You pulled your laptop from where it rested on your thighs and set it to the side on top of your nightstand. As long as you were this hungry, you would get absolutely nothing done. You were pretty sure Satoru was in his room and had been since he got home. If you could just run out to the kitchen and quietly grab something quick, chances are you’d be able to make it back without running into him.

Standing up, you slid a pair of slippers on and walked over to your bedroom door. You gently twisted the knob and pushed open the door, allowing your head to peek out of the small crack. Satoru’s room was on the opposite side of the apartment as yours, with the kitchen being in the direct center of you both. He wasn’t in your line of sight, so you opened the door further and pushed yourself forward. You ghosted across the tile floor, not a single sound coming from your footsteps. Upon reaching the end of the short hallway, you peered around the corner into the living room and dining room. Both were empty.

Perfect.

Making your way into the kitchen, you found yourself in front of the pantry. You carefully opened the door and reached in, grabbing a half-empty bag of potato chips. Slipping them under your arm, you grabbed a sleeve of chocolate chip cookies for good measure before closing the pantry back.

“You’re not coming to game night?” Satoru’s voice called out as his bedroom door swung open. You jumped back in surprise, nearly dropping the snacks under your arm.

He had just gotten out of the shower. His milky hair was still damp and effortlessly cascaded around his vivid eyes. Nothing but dark-wash jeans with a pair of gray Calvin Kleins peeking over the top graced his body. You immediately brought your eyes up to his. The last thing you wanted was for him to notice you gawking at his body.

“Well?” He looked you up and down with a small frown.

You glanced down at yourself only to remember you were wearing your pajama shorts. No wonder he was asking.

“No, I’m staying home. Have some stuff to do.” You kept your response curt as you attempted to head back towards your room.

“Oh, come on! Everyone’s gonna be there.” You already knew his face carried a massive pout without even turning around. “Even Nanami’s coming, and he hates game night!”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you made your way back into the room, using your foot to kick the door shut behind you.

Crawling back into bed, you peeled open the sleeve of cookies and shoved one into your mouth, taking as big of a bite as you could muster. Reaching over to the nightstand, you grabbed a water bottle and popped the cap off before taking a swig. You moved your computer back to your lap and opened your presentation back up.

Your phone began to vibrate next to you, and after glancing over, you saw a single message from Satoru containing nothing but a frowning face. The screen went dark as you slid your finger over and clicked the lock button. You needed to focus on your project. Everything else could wait.

Your fingers frantically typed, only occasionally pulling away to bring another cookie to your mouth. Another buzz came from your phone as the screen illuminated. It was from Satoru again, this time a message containing two frowning faces. You just rolled your eyes in response. Why was he being so damn persistent today? He rarely even went to game night himself. Usually he was the one who was locked away studying.

Suddenly, your bedroom door swung open, nearly slamming into the wall, and Satoru was standing in the entrance, both hands placed firmly on his hips.

His hair was now dry and styled as usual, landing perfectly atop the frame of his glasses he had just put on. A blue button-down was neatly tucked into his jeans with a black leather belt snaking through his belt loops. He looked as good as he always did.

Your name sweetly dripped from his lips like honey, and your heart immediately fluttered. Sometimes you really hated how you were nothing more than putty in his hands.

“Please get dressed and come out with me. It’s going to be fun.” He walked further into your room and plopped down onto the edge of your bed as he pleaded with you.

“I have this presentation to finish for Yaga’s class,” you said as you pulled your eyes back to the screen and began typing again. “The deadline is in two days, and it accounts for a pretty big chunk of my grade.”

“Then I’ll help you with it when we get back.” He tried to reach his hand over to grab your laptop, but before it could make contact, you were swatting him away.

“Gojo, stop.” Your eyes widened as you realized what you said the second it escaped your mouth.

Satoru was just as taken aback as you were. His brows instantly furrowed as a look of pure bewilderment took over his face. You don’t think you’ve ever called him that the entire time you two had known each other.

“What’s going on with you?” His voice was laced with genuine concern.

Setting your laptop to the side, you fully sat up, finally giving him your undivided attention. “Look, I’m sorry, but this presentation is a really big deal. Besides, they host game night every month. I’ll just join in on the next one.”

Your presentation’s deadline was in two days — that much was the truth. However, if it weren’t for what you had witnessed unfold earlier at the library, you’d likely still be going to Suguru and Shoko’s place.

What you had seen had likely been nothing more than a harmless interaction, but even if it wasn’t, it was none of your business. You and Satoru had never been nothing more than friends, and a one-time hookup wouldn’t change that. However, no matter how you looked at the situation, you were still hurting, and you were desperate for a distraction. If throwing yourself into schoolwork offered you even a moment of solace, you’d eat it up.

“Bring your laptop into the living room, and I’ll help you work on it.” He pushed himself to his feet and turned towards the door. “I’m gonna go tell Suguru that we’re not coming tonight.”

“No, Satoru, you don’t have—“

Your words were cut short as he shut the door behind him.

Fuck.

Of course he’d offer to stay home and help you. That was just the kind of person he was.

You shot to your feet and rushed into the living room, catching him just as he picked up his phone and began typing.

“Satoru, seriously, it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice a far higher pitch than you hoped it would be. “You don’t have to stay in and help me tonight.”

“I want to, seriously,” he said as he continued typing for a moment. His fingers came to a stop, and he looked up at you with a smile. “This is obviously important to you, besides we’ll just go next month like you said.”

“But—“

“No.” He was quick to cut you short before you could protest any further. “Now, go grab your laptop, and I’m going to go change.”

Disappearing to his room without another word, you began trudging back to your room. Once you grabbed what you needed, you headed back towards the couch and plopped down. You pulled the black coffee table towards you and set your laptop on it before folding your legs underneath you.

Satoru soon returned, this time in a white pair of sweatpants and a black compression shirt. He secured himself right next to you and immediately leaned forward, his fingers clicking through the slides you had already completed. You held your breath as his elbow bumped into your knee. The two of you were currently far too close for your liking.

This was the exact opposite of how you had wanted to spend your evening. At least if you had gone to game night, there would’ve been a bunch of other people there with you, and you wouldn’t be forced into such a close proximity with Satoru. Everything had completely backfired.

”Do you mind if I change a few things on the slides you’ve already done?” Satoru asked as he glanced over his shoulder at you.

“Not at all.”

You watched as he sat back up and leaned against the back of the couch. He set your computer on his lap, and the sounds of typing and clicking soon followed.

Scooting over as far as you could, you laid against the couch’s armrest and began mindlessly scrolling through social media. The tension in the air was palpable, at least to you anyways. Satoru had no idea how you felt or what was truly going on, and he was terrible at reading others’ emotions anyways. He always had been.

Roughly an hour passed with the two staying in the same positions, neither one speaking a single word. You locked your phone and rose to your feet. A pair of cerulean eyes cut up to you as soon as your weight shifted off the couch cushions.

“Going to get a snack,” you informed him as you shuffled over to the refrigerator.

Satoru stood up and immediately followed suit. “Do we have anything sweet?”

You couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. He truly never changes. “As long as you live here, we’ll always have something sweet.”

“Oh?” A shit-eating grin spread across his face, stretching ear to ear as he reached around you into the now open fridge.

Your cheeks grew hot as you turned your face back towards the fridge, hoping he wouldn’t notice. You smacked his hand away, and he immediately pulled it back. “Now, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. And wait your turn, I was here first.”

Reaching in, you grabbed a container of chocolate-covered strawberries and turned around, setting them on the counter. You flipped open the clear, plastic lid and pulled out one dipped in white chocolate that was decorated with red sprinkles. Bringing it up to your lips, you sank your teeth in and took a generous bite, only leaving the leaves for you to discard.

Satoru was staring at you, and you already knew he wanted some. You flipped the open container towards him and motioned at the five remaining strawberries as an offer.

“Are you not going to feed me one?” He fluttered his eyelashes, a smile still gracing his face.

You rolled your eyes in response and shoved the container of strawberries closer to him. “Absolutely not.”

His bottom lip protruded into the most dramatic pout he could muster. “We’ve been best friends for almost twenty years, and you won’t even feed me a strawberry.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and snatched up a strawberry, this one covered in a layer of milk chocolate with white chocolate stripes. He opened his mouth expectantly, and you brought it up to his lips. He took a bite, and you could’ve sworn his smile grew even larger with every chew. If there was one thing about Satoru, he loved his sweets.

“Are you happy now?”

You received an immediate hum of approval as you closed the lid and turned to set them back in the fridge. “You know, Satoru, after all these years, you’re still just as annoying as ever.”

“Annoying, huh?” You froze as his breath was suddenly hot on your ear. The container fell from your hand at the sudden sensation and hit the plastic shelf with a clank.

Before you could react, he placed a soft kiss on your neck, just below your earlobe. A pair of hands snaked around your waist from behind and slipped underneath the hem of your tank top. Flashbacks of the week prior flooded your mind, and the way you felt was almost identical. You knew, after everything, you should end this before it escalated, but once again, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. The second his lips touched you, all logic went out the window.

Your hands settled on top of his and guided them downwards until they sunk under the waistband of your shorts. He pulled you backwards, and as soon as your bodies collided, you could feel his hard length rubbing against you. Satoru left a gentle trail of kisses along the side of your neck as his hands sunk lower and lower.

His right index finger slid between your folds and immediately made its way to your entrance. He wasted no time sinking it in as far as it could possibly go. A gasp escaped you at the sudden intrusion, and you leaned forward, grabbing onto the fridge door for support as he curled his finger inside of you.

“Already soaked,” he cooed as his left hand found its way to your clit. You let out a whimper as he began to slowly draw circles around the sensitive nub, his lips never leaving your neck.

He continued until you were just about to reach your climax before retracting both of his hands from you and spinning you around. You opened your mouth to protest the sudden loss of contact, but before you could get any words out, he shoved the refrigerator closed and pushed you back against the stainless steel. Satoru immediately fell to his knees and lifted your right leg over his shoulder while your left was still firmly planted on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you I wanted something sweet.” In one fluid motion, he pulled down both your shorts and your panties. Within an instant, his mouth was on you. You let out a moan as he began gently moving his tongue back and forth. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to savor it.

“Thought about this all week,” he confessed. You couldn’t tell if the butterflies you felt were from the physical pleasure or his sudden admission that the night you shared hadn’t left his mind.

Before your thoughts could stray further, Satoru placed his left hand under the upper part of your right thigh, offering you much-needed support as he began to pick up the pace. You entwined your fingers into his soft strands and gently tugged on them, prompting a quiet groan from him.

Your left leg began trembling and your right heel dug into the muscles on his back as you grew close. Heat began pooling in your abdomen. Your eyes forced shut as you threw your head back. Satoru continued to lap at your clit as your moans grew louder and louder. Your climax exploded through you, and his grip on you tightened as your body jerked forward. He slowed his pace back down, allowing you to ride it out before pulling back.

He rose to his feet and instantly captured your lips with his. The kiss was messy and desperate as he pulled you into him. Both of his hands slipped underneath you, and as he lifted you up into the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

He deepened your kiss as he carried you towards the couch, his tongue prying your lips apart and pushing its way into your mouth. Lowering himself down onto the couch, he brought you with him, your knees landing on both sides of his lap. He finally broke the kiss, a thick string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours as he briefly pulled away.

“Please let me fuck you,” he pleaded breathlessly as he slipped his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. His hard cock sprung free, the tip swollen and red, leaking beads of clear fluid.

You leaned forward, raising yourself up enough for him to line up perfectly with your entrance. Lowering yourself just a bit, his tip began pressing into your cunt, prompting a soft groan from him. In a singular, swift movement you pushed all the way down, taking him all in one go. A second, louder groan fell from his lips as a gasp escaped yours.

His hands connected with your waist, slipping underneath your tank top and pulling it over your head, tossing it to the side. He leaned forward, bringing his mouth to one of your nipples as you slowly began bouncing up and down on his cock.

His tongue encircled the hardened tip as he brought one of his hands to the other, capturing it between his thumb and index finger, rubbing back and forth.

You threw your head back as you started to pick up the rhythm. “I thought about this all week.” Your admission was tumbling from your mouth before you even knew what you were saying.

“How your hands felt on my body and your mouth on mine.” You knew you should quit while you were ahead, but you felt so intoxicated by him you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop. “The way your cock fit inside me perfectly, like it was made for me.”

He pulled back, both of his hands gripping your ass as he took control of the pace, guiding you up and down his length. “If you don’t stop talking like that, I’m not gonna last.”

Your head fell forward and rested against his shoulder as he rutted into you. His pace was far rougher than the first night the two of you shared.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Satoru managed to choke out between his symphony of groans.

His cock repeatedly pushed into your cervix as he pushed himself as far into you as he could physically go. His pace began to grow sloppy as he continued ramming in and out of your sopping cunt.

You could feel him twitch inside of you before he began flooding your insides with his thick, white cum. He thrust into you a few more times as he rode out his climax, his warm seed and your slick juices dripping out from around the edges of his cock and running down your inner thighs onto his lap.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his, and closed your eyes. He wrapped his arms around you, still not pulling out, and allowed you to rest there for just a moment as he attempted to catch his own breath.

“Did you mean what you said?” He mumbled, his lips so close to yours that you could inhale him. “That you thought about me all week?”

“Mhm,” you opened your eyes to see a bright blue pair staring right back at you from behind the lenses of his glasses. “Did you?”

“I did,” his voice was incredibly soft as he offered a smile.

The position the two of you found yourselves in was far too intimate for friends who were just hooking up. Whether he realized it yet or not, whatever arrangement you shared with one another would never be casual. You knew the truth was that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to outrun your feelings for him. You could desperately push them down and try to drown them out, but they’d always be there, bubbling back up to the surface until they finally erupted.

You knew what you had to do now. Coming clean and confessing how you felt was truly the only viable option. Not tonight, but soon. Even if your feelings were unrequited, you couldn’t hold them in any longer, because you knew that Satoru Gojo was the sun — and you’d never be able to escape being stuck in his orbit.

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