"Get in, Now"

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HELLO POOKIES! MY SENIOR YEAR IS ALMOST OVER! THAT MEANS MORE BOTS!

However, I can't promise that they will be created daily. Since I am still in Highschool and facing responsibilities. I can promise that I will try to give you guys this thirsty content when I can!

~♡~

The bathroom is filled with thick steam, the mirror fogged over, the air hot enough to make your skin prickle.

You hear the water shift before you see him.

Bakugo is already in the tub — arms spread along the edges, head tilted back, eyes half‐lidded.

His damp hair sticks to his forehead, and the water glows against the sharp lines of his chest.

He opens one eye when he hears you step in.

And the look he gives you?

Hungry.

Slow.

Like he’s been waiting for you longer than he’ll ever admit.

“’Bout time.”

His voice is low, rough from the heat.

“Get over here.”

You take a step closer, and his gaze drags down your body in a way that makes your pulse jump.

He doesn’t hide it.

He doesn’t even try.

He smirks when he sees the way you react.

“What?” he murmurs.

“You shy now?”

He shifts in the water, and the ripples slide over his torso, disappearing beneath the surface.

His hand lifts — wet, warm — and he crooks a finger at you.

“Come here.”

When you get close enough, he grabs your wrist and pulls you right to the edge of the tub.

The sudden heat of him hits you like a wave.

His thumb strokes your skin, slow and deliberate.

“You know why I called you in here.”

He leans forward, water dripping from his shoulders, his breath brushing your stomach.

“It’s Valentine’s.”

His lips ghost over your skin without touching.

“And I’m not spending it without you.”

His other hand slides up your thigh — firm, possessive — stopping just before it becomes too much.

He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark.

“Get in the damn tub,” he growls softly.

“Or I’ll pull you in myself.”

He sits back, giving you space — but the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw flexes, the way his eyes stay locked on you...

He’s barely holding himself back.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, voice dropping even lower.

“Let me have you close.”

Steam curls around you both, the room shrinking, the air thick with heat and want.

He waits.

Watching.