the oven timer beeped right as the front door clicked open. you wiped flour-dusted hands on your apron, already moving toward the hallway before the beep had fully died out.
"hey, handsome," you called, rounding the corner just as nanami stepped inside. his tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled to the elbows—small signs of a long day finally unwinding. he blinked at you, then at the faint scent of vanilla wafting from the kitchen, and something in his expression softened.
"hello, my love," nanami replied, his voice low and warm like the oven you'd just left. his briefcase hit the floor with a soft thud as he reached for you, one broad hand settling at the small of your back. you could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your apron.
he didn’t say anything else, just pressed his nose against your temple and inhaled deeply, his breath hot against your skin. you laughed, tilting your head to give him more room. “long day?”
"mm," he murmured, lips grazing your jawline. his other hand came up to cradle your face, thumb brushing absently over the smear of flour you’d missed near your ear. you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way his body leaned into yours like he was borrowing your warmth. "you baked."
you hummed, sliding your fingers under his loosened tie to tease the first button of his shirt.
"wanted to make something sweet for you." his exhale was sharp when your knuckles brushed the hollow of his throat. the oven beeped again, an insistent reminder—but neither of you moved.
nanami’s grip tightened at your waist, pressing you closer until the starched fabric of his shirt rumpled against your apron. his mouth found the curve of your neck, open and wet, and you gasped when his teeth scraped lightly over your pulse. "kento—the cookies—"
"let them burn," he growled, and then his hands were under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly against him. your legs locked around his hips on instinct, heels knocking against his perfectly tailored slacks as he carried you backward toward the kitchen. the counter dug into your lower back when he set you down, but you barely noticed—not when he was shoving the apron up your thighs, his palms rough against your bare skin.
your breath hitched as nanami’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with a slow, deliberate tug. the cool air of the kitchen kissed your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze—dark and intent, like he was mapping every inch of you.
"kento," you breathed, fingers tangling in his hair as he dropped to his knees between your legs. his palms smoothed up your calves, then higher, thumbs pressing into the softness of your inner thighs to spread you wider.
"you taste so sweet," he murmured, voice rough as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your damp skin. the first lick was slow, deliberate—a teasing drag of his tongue that had your hips jerking forward. nanami chuckled, the sound vibrating against you, and his grip tightened to keep you still.
"impatient," he chided, but there was no real scold in it, just that low, honeyed warmth that always coiled low in your belly.
his mouth was relentless after that, alternating between broad, languid strokes and sharp, focused flicks that had your toes curling against the tile. every sound you made—every gasp, every whimper—only spurred him on, his fingers digging bruises into your skin as he dragged you closer to the edge.
"love you like this," he rasped between kisses, lips glistening. "love you messy, love you unwashed—fuck, you’re perfect."
the oven beeped again, a distant, forgotten noise as you arched into him, fingers tightening in his hair. nanami groaned against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine.
"that’s it, sweetheart," he murmured, dragging his tongue over you in a way that made your vision blur. "come for me.
your thighs trembled around nanami’s shoulders as his tongue pressed deeper, relentless in its rhythm—every flick and curl deliberate, every breath he exhaled against your skin sending shivers up your spine. the countertop was cold beneath your palms, but you barely registered it, too focused on the heat of his mouth, the way his thumbs dug into your hips to keep you from squirming away.
"kento," you gasped, voice breaking as his teeth grazed your inner thigh, a sharp contrast to the softness of his lips just moments before.
"say it again," he demanded, voice rough, and when you moaned his name louder, he rewarded you with a slow, torturous lick that had your back arching off the counter. the apron tangled between your legs, bunched up in his fists as he dragged you closer, until you could feel the scratch of his stubble against your skin.
"god, you’re sweet," he muttered, lips moving against you as he spoke. "could eat you for hours."
you clutched at his hair, tugging slightly, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through you as his grip tightened. "close?" he asked, voice thick, and when you nodded frantically, he hummed in satisfaction, lips curling into a smirk against your skin.
then his fingers joined his mouth, pressing inside with the same slow, deliberate precision, and you shattered, a broken cry tearing from your throat as your hips jerked against his face. nanami didn’t let up, drinking you in as you came, his free hand sliding up to press against your stomach, pinning you to the counter as you trembled.
"good girl," he murmured, finally pulling back to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your oversensitive skin. "so good for me."
you slumped forward, barely catching yourself on his shoulders as your legs threatened to give out. nanami stood in one smooth motion, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. his mouth found yours, deep and possessive, and you could taste yourself on his tongue—sweet and faintly salty, mingling with the vanilla still clinging to your skin.
"missed you," he admitted against your lips, voice quieter now, almost tender.
the kiss broke with a soft, wet sound, and nanami pressed his forehead to yours, his breath still warm against your lips. the kitchen smelled like burnt sugar now—somewhere between the oven’s forgotten cookies and the heat still radiating off both of you. you laughed, breathless, and he smiled, just a little quirk of his lips, before pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“you’re ridiculous,” you murmured, fingers combing through his hair where you’d missed it moments earlier. his tie was completely undone now, hanging loose around his neck, and his shirt was wrinkled beyond repair. nanami didn’t seem to care, his hands still firm on your thighs as he held you against him.
“stop being weird,” you muttered, pushing satoru’s hand away as it crept toward your waistband. the sheets were warm, tangled around your legs, and the dim glow from the streetlight outside painted stripes across the ceiling.
he chuckled, low and unapologetic, his fingers tracing idle circles just above your hip.
“you say that like you mean it,” he murmured, his breath warm against your shoulder. you could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking.
your breath hitched when his fingers dipped lower, slipping past the elastic of your underwear despite your weak shove.
“i’m serious, satoru—” you started, but the protest died in your throat as his thumb brushed over you through the damp cotton. a small, traitorous noise escaped you instead.
“mm, see?” he nosed at your temple, his other arm pinning your hips down when you tried to squirm away.
“you don’t wanna stop.” his fingers pressed more deliberately, and you bit your lip to stifle another sound. the heat between your legs was insistent, throbbing in time with your pulse.
“you’re fucking gross,” you breathed, arching into his touch despite yourself, the words lacking any real bite. satoru’s laugh rumbled against your skin as he slid two fingers into you, slow and deliberate, his thumb still moving in lazy circles.
“i know,” pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. his fingers didn’t stop, curling just right, and you shuddered. “i know you like it baby.”
the certainty in his voice sent a jolt through you, your thighs clamping around his wrist without thinking.
your hands fisted in the sheets, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. “god, you’re—” his fingers pressed deeper, cutting you off with a choked sound. satoru hummed, pleased, his breath hot against your ear. “say it again,” he coaxed, voice rough. “call me disgusting.”
you whimpered, hips jerking, the quiet room making every sound feel louder. the tension in your stomach tightened, relentless, and you hated how good it felt. “stop,” you tried again, but it came out uneven, your nails digging into his forearm.
the word dissolved into a gasp as his fingers shifted, hitting that perfect angle. your vision blurred slightly at the edges. Satoru’s lips dragged down your throat, teeth grazing your pulse just enough to sting before his tongue soothed it. “liar,” he murmured, the vibration sending a shiver through you. his free hand slid under your shirt, warm and familiar. “you don’t want me to stop.”
you hated how right he was. hated how your body kept responding, arching into him, trembling, every small movement pulling you closer. “you’re—” you choked, voice thin as his thumb pressed harder. “disgusting,” you managed, and your body betrayed you immediately, clenching around his fingers.
satoru let out a quiet, satisfied sound. “there it is,” he muttered, voice thick with amusement. "fuck, you’re so pretty like this" his fingers sped up, the wet sound of them moving in you obscenely loud.
“look at you,” he said, watching your face. “you gonna come like this baby?” his fingers curled again, and your thighs shook. “yeah, you are.”
the orgasm hit hard—your body going rigid for a second before everything unraveled. your breath broke, thighs trembling, hands grabbing at him instinctively.
he didn’t stop right away, dragging it out just enough to make you squirm. “too much,” you gasped, pushing weakly at his wrist, and he finally slowed.
"you’re such a fucking liar," he murmured, pulling his fingers free with a slick sound that made your face burn. he brought them to his mouth without hesitation, licking them clean with a hum that was equal parts satisfaction and provocation. your stomach flipped, both mortified and impossibly, stupidly turned on.
"see?" he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "you liked it."
you let out a shaky breath, your limbs still loose as you turned to rest your head against his chest. you gave his shoulder a half-hearted shove. “i didn’t say that.”
satoru huffed out a quiet laugh, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “you didn’t have to.”
he kissed you then, slower this time, less teasing but just as sure. when he pulled back, he shifted closer, arm sliding under you, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back like nothing had happened.
bakugo katsuki who’s literally red from head to toe when you finally ask him to do something more than just kissing.
you two have been dating for a while now, but it never went further than kisses. you started wondering if there was something wrong with you—if it were any other guy, you’d probably be pinned to the bed by now. but with him, nothing.
he’s never been vocal about his feelings, and now is no different. so you started picking up on his body language—the way he’d subtly grip the sheets when you sat on his lap, the way he held his breath when you kissed his neck.
you weren’t sure if he was nervous, or just didn’t want to mess things up. maybe both. but tonight felt different. the way his hands lingered on your waist slightly squeezing it, the way his eyes kept flickering to your lips and back again—he wanted it. he just didn’t know how to say it.
so you leaned in, close enough to feel his breath hitch, and whispered against his skin “you can touch me, y’know. if you want to.”
his whole body tensed.
his hands twitched where they rested on your hips, like he didn’t know what to do with them. his voice came out rough, barely above a whisper “don’t say stuff like that…”
but he didn’t stop you.
“please, katsu… i want this,” you whispered, grinding against him.
his forehead dropped to your shoulder, breath warm against your skin as his hands slowly lifted — hovering just beneath your breasts.
then he looked at you. “y-you sure?” he asked, though his eyes were already locked on your lips.
“please…” you breathed. and that was all it took.
his thumb brushed your cheek before he kissed you — slow, deep, possessive. his hands moved over your clothes like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.
you reached down, palm pressing against his clothed cock as you started to unzip his pants.
pushing his boxers down just enough, you wrapped your hand around his cock and pulled it free. he let out a low breath, hips twitching under your touch.
you gasped, fingers curling in his hair as you guided him inside you. his fingers dug into your hips like he was afraid you’d disappear, pulling you down harder as you started to move.
the sound of skin slapping filled the room — wet, fast, filthy.
“f-fuck, baby… ah — slower, please,” he pleaded as you bounced on him. “s-slower or i w-won’t last.”
that only pushed you to move faster. All you could hear now were the squelching noises between your thighs and how surprisingly loud he was.
he filled you perfectly, deeply, like he was made for this. your stomach tightened with every movement, your thighs shaking. you could feel every vein, every twitch of him inside you.
he groaned against your throat, voice broken. c-can’t believe how good you feel,” he whispered. your brain turned to static — nothing but moans and the sound of your name in his mouth.
“fuck, i could stay inside you forever.”
his thrusts lost rhythm as he got close, jaw clenched, pressing kisses into your shoulder mid-thrust while whispering your name.
he came inside you with a loud groan — breathless, shaking. you came right after, soaking his boxers completely with your release.
he didn’t move right away, just buried his face in your neck and breathed. “you okay?” he whispered, brushing damp hair off your face.
“yeah,” you chuckled. “you?”
“i’m fine,” he mumbled, glancing away, cheeks red.
Satoru Gojo who broke up with you first, apparently because "he had too much on his mind" and couldn't handle a relationship at the moment.
Satoru Gojo who regretted it the very next day, waking up alone in bed instead of finding you beside him.
Satoru Gojo who tried to thug it out, telling himself he wasn't the type to care. He was a womanizer, he just messed around. so why did he find himself thinking about you so often?
Satoru Gojo who texted you while drunk one week after he broke up with you, saying "i miss u."
Satoru Gojo who found himself going absolutely crazy with anguish when you didn't reply for the next three days.
Satoru Gojo who showed up at your door at 3 am on a tuesday, begging you to take him back. Saying he promised he'd never hurt you again, that your absence was killing him. that he missed your smell, playing with your hair, hugging you from behind while you made breakfast for him.
Satoru Gojo who thanked the gods when you finally took him back after three weeks of trying to convince you.
Satoru Gojo who found himself unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Buying you flowers randomly, trying his best to get out of work earlier just to spend more time with you, making dinner so you could rest, even making little diy gifts because he knew how much you loved them
Satoru Gojo who kept his promise and made you the happiest girl ever
