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#reader's birthday
danisbrainrot · 6 months
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in honour of your cake day 🎂🎉!! yellowjackets characters celebrating your bday with you ?
all the girls gathered around the table as you flicked your hair behind your back and smiled. "happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," they sung in unison, cheesy grins adorning all of their faces. the candles' flames danced atop of your cake as you eagerly waited to blow them out.
as the song ended jackie yelled out, "hip hip," a twinkling look in her eye and her grin forming more of a smirk.
"hooray!!" the rest of the team cheered. this went on twice more, before a round of applause erupted. you bent down and blew hard, extinguishing all the candles with one breath. squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you prayed that you would always be friends and your future would be filled with plenty more experiences with the girls you'd grown to love.
"what'd you wish for?" natalie asked, bringing the cup to her lips.
you shook your head, "can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true," you replied, shrugging your shoulders as she rolled her eyes.
lottie wrapped her arms around you, "no you're right. no one wants to give the birthday girl bad luck," she announced, earning a fee drunken cheers. you smiled brightly, looking around at the girls that surrounded you.
holding your hand out for laura lee to take, you squeeze it gently. "thank you all, for coming tonight," you appreciated them.
"you can always count on where there's booze, there's natalie," taissa teased, receiving a dirty glare from the blonde.
the music picks up again and you find out that mari has changed the song to something you all know and love. immediately all the girls race to the dancefloor, and you take shauna by the hands, encouraging her to dance with you. eventually everyone forms a circle and begins dancing like drunk toddlers, leaning on each other for support and trying not to fall over.
looking around at your wonderful teammates, you couldn't help but think about how this was the best birthday you'd ever had.
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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years
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It's Reader's birthday!
And also mine. 😁 Crazy how that works, right?
So, I think I'm gonna try to post a birthday drabble at some point today. Or it might be tomorrow depending on what else I'm working on.
But 34 feels good so far. I'm crossing my fingers that it stays that way, lol. 😂
Any ideas about how Andy and Reader should celebrate?
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chocum · 3 months
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nanami always overstimulates himself when he’s fucking you … walk with me .. cW. fem reader (she/her), overstim. squirting.
nothing turns nanami on more than making his girl feel good— it’s like he lives to serve you. to please you, to pull little whimpers of his name from your lips, your greedy pussy sucking him in, plush walls refusing to let go ‘till you’ve milked him for all he’s got.
so much so that even after he’s stuffed load after load in your abused little cunt— white cream dribbling out from around his fat cock to coat the backs of your thighs, he’s still going. his cock twitching angry red, aching as he ruts into you, treading the fine line of pleasure and pain.
almost like he’s drunk off your pussy, his weak knees practically crumbling underneath him, as he desperately drags you back onto his raw cock.
he’s whining. a pretty blush resting on his chest after traveling to his neck, reaching the curves and folds of his ears. salty sweat sliding down his temples where stray strands of hair dampened, sticking in patterns, almost.
“ it’s so good. fuck. feels so good when you suck— me in like that. give it to me. give it all to me, sweetheart. let me have it. letmehaveit”
you’re already spent— so sensitive and weak, vulnerable from cumming for him after he so gently prompted you to, over and over and over. but he knows you have more to give. knows your pretty pussy’s got something special for him.
so he slides his hand over your stomach— your limp body twitching at the feeling of his rough callouses grazing the softness of your skin to push down on your sweat coated tummy, the weight of him sinking into warmth
your pretty whines— your desperate pleases are barely registering for him at this point, he’s just too caught up in making his pussy squirt for him
:((
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Husband!Nanami who doesn’t expect anything for his birthday because you’ve both been pulling long hours at work and putting money toward savings
Husband!Nanami who comes in exhausted from another overtime shift, the scowl on his face melting away when he sees you waiting up for him with balloons and a tableful of treats from his favorite bakery
Husband!Nanami who hugs you tight and gently tells you that he didn’t need anything, only for you to respond that he deserves everything
Husband!Nanami who laughs when you come out of the kitchen with candles stuck in a loaf of bread and blows them out with a silent wish, feeling like a kid again with the way you’re pampering him
Husband!Nanami who closes his eyes when you tell him to, happily wearing a cheesy paper party hat as you count down from 10
Husband!Nanami who opens his eyes to see you standing in front of him wearing nothing but a big red bow and a shy smile
“Happy birthday, my love!”
Husband!Nanami whose heart melts, (and whose cock does the opposite) immediately standing to pull you close to him, his strong hands exploring every inch of his “present”
“All for me, beautiful? I’m too lucky.”
Husband!Nanami who pulls you into your shared bedroom and leaves all his stress at the door, groaning in relief as you rip his work clothes off until there’s nothing separating the two of you
Husband!Nanami who makes sure to show you just how grateful he is for the little celebration, neither of you noticing when it passes midnight
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analikalee · 4 months
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redcherrykook · 26 days
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── ‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ special present- Jungkook birthday special!
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content: Jk´s birthday, lingerie, passionate sex, praise regarding body, fluff, vibrator usage, oral, cute dinner date, aftercare talks, established relationship, shit ton of kisses, petnames galore
note from cherry: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOYFIE U R 27 NOW!!! i love my sexy man guys help .... ignore typos thanks ily!
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first september 2024, Jungkook´s twenty-seventh birthday.
On this day, 27 years ago an angel was born, a lover, a gentle heart with a passionate soul. He was given to this earth as a gift, someone to create happiness through art, someone to share laughs and looks with. Someone that has been by your side for four years now, blessing your every morning with his face and little kisses, blessing your every night with his arms and whispers
There is nothing that comes close to being loved by Jungkook, nothing that remotely compares to the feeling of his reassurance, his little messages throughout your day or the flowers he would bring home because they reminded him of you.
Equally, there is nothing that you wouldn´t do for him. He´s your entire heart and you´re his, his smile, his reason to keep going when he feels less than enough.
In comparison to what he does for you, standing in the kitchen for hours on his birthday just to cook him a nice pasta and lots of side dishes plus some little deserts is not nearly as difficult
It was your idea to cook for him, knowing how much he loves at home dinner dates with a cozy movie, he refused at first, not wanting you to push yourself for him
He knew all to well you would go all out for this occasion,
"Lets just go to a restaurant ma, i want you to relax"
Managing to persuade him with the mention of traditional carbonara and oreo cream cookies, he still had to attend a photoshoot before returning home
six hours later, the kitchen is set, candles and a big box on the table along all the delicious food, moodlights on
Jungkook hates the big overhead lamp, so you turned that off immediately
Now it´s time to rush for a shower, quickly drying your hair and putting on the smallest amount of make up to look extra cute, even though you know he loves your bare face the most.
"Baby! Happy birthday kook!" your grin spreads over your lips, jumping to hug him as soon as he comes through the door, his woody sweet scent staining your sense
he hugs you back, wrapping his strong arms around your delicate body, smiling to himself like he had never been happier,
"thank you angel, smells so good here" he replies, holding on to your waist and nuzzling his nose to yours
you kiss him gently, savoring the softness of his lips on yours
"mhm, I hope it tastes good too" you hum, stepping into the kitchen to take out some champagne from the fridge, he takes off his shoes and jacket, coming behind you to wrap his arms around your figure again,
his head drops to your neck, burrying himself in your scent and velvet smooth hair while you fill two glasses with the sparkling alcohol
"I´m sure it does, you´re the best cook cutie" he mumbles into your hair, kissing your cheek while rubbing your sides softly
"let´s eat, you must be so hungry kook" you giggle, turning around to cup his face
The both of you spend the next hour or so eating the home cooked goods, his little stims and groans of appreciation lighting up your heart, the way his large, veiny hands grip the tiny chopsticks, flinging them around with the first bites to show how good it tastes to him
With a few last bites on the vanilla lotus cake, he sighs, rubbing his stomach
"Woah, I´m so full. Thank you angel, come here" he smiles, patting his thigh
You walk over immediately, plopping down on his lap with your arms around his neck, one hand caressing his cheek softly,
"so glad you liked it baby" you say, kissing his nose to which he scrunches it up, placing a kiss to your lips instead
"Wanna open your present?" his brown doe eyes light up, his head nodding excitedly,
the black, ribbon wrapped box is already in his hands before you can register what´s going on, slender fingers moving to unwrap it while both of you stare in anticipation
The box opens, two things inside and the look on his face is priceless, weeks of saving up and hiding your little secret is finally worth it
He gasps, taking the expensive film camera out of the box,
"there´s no way" he says, stars in his eyes shining when he spins the packaging around, setting it down on the table and cupping your face
"My baby.. you really got me this? But that´s so much money my love"
you nod, smiling and caressing his shoulder, "Don´t worry about that.. look how happy you are! that´s worth every cent"
He starts kissing you with the same grin still planted on his lips, moving his mouth against yours sweetly,
"thank you, you're the best" he whispers, resting his forehead on yours
"There´s one more thing in there" you gesture to the box, he hums, taking out the stüssy hoodie you knew he had been eyeing, eightball logo as the backprint on the black, comfy material
He folds it back up, with a peck to your nose his hands wander back down to your waist
"thank you cutie, I´ll wear it all the time and think of you"
the sounds of kissing fill up the kitchen, softly savoring each others company and leaving behind the rest of the world when you keep feeling his passion grow in the kisses, moving his hands to your ass, squeezing it firmly and moaning quietly into the desperate kisses
" I have something for you" he says suddendly, pulling away from your lips, glazed swollen mouth luring you back in
Confused, you tilt your head, playing with some of his strands,
"For me? On your birthday?" you frown, but he just kisses it off, making both of you giggle,
"Let me show you" with that, you're hoisted up in his arms, his hands full of your ass and your legs snug around his slim waist, walking up the stairs to the bedroom
He gently sets you down on the bed, moving over to his closet and pulling out a shopping bag from behind his jackets,
"Jungkook.. why?" you pout, his selfless nature making you feel terrible but loved all at once,
with a sly look, he hands you the bag,
"Look inside, it's a present for myself but with your help" his arms lay back, tricep flexing while his gaze sharpens when you pull out a tiny, fluffy white set of lingerie
Your mouth is hung open, looking at him with pink cheeks and disbelief to which he smirks,
"Come on, baby, there's two more. Pick you're favorite so i can fuck you in it" he says, watching as you nervously pull out a trqnsparent pink nightdress and a black, shiny bralette with matching lace bottoms
"Kook oh my god" you giggle, hiding your face beneath your hands,
He responds by prying your hands away immediately, his eyes burning through you with lust, lips finding your jawline
"Tell me pretty.. which one?" he repeats in a sweet whisper,
"You pick...s'your birthday" already begining to moan and crave his touch more,
He pushes you down onto the bed, sliding down your pants and panties,
"Pink.. you look so good in everything but fuck, when i saw that little pink dress i knew i had to buy it for you" he mutters, pulling your shirt over your head before lifting your torso to unclasp the bra you're wearing
Bare, needy and flustered sprawled out on the bed before your fully clothed, erect boyfriend.
He groans softly, running his hands down your stomach, "you're beautiful, i need you so bad baby, you have no idea"
You've never felt more beautiful than in this moment, the love and adoration in your boyfriends eyes making you feel like there was no one who could compete, naked and vulnerable but secure and cared for all at the same time
"Kook.. please, i need you too" you're rubbing your thighs together for the tiniest bit of relief
He reaches back to the pink lingerie, "arms up angel"
You listen well, he pulls the soft fabric over your body, stopping right below your feminity
The fabric is see through, round breasts on full display below, the curve of your waist exentuated by the flow of it,
"You can't even imagine how beautiful you are, you make me crazy baby"
His lips muffle your moans, making out slow but intense while he explores what he has come to know better than anything else the past years, running his hands all over your curves and finding your stiff nipples to rub through the fabric
"Nhmm kook.. please take this off" you mumble between whines, tugging at his shirt
He smiles, "anything for you" discarding the calvin klein top somewhere on the floor, followed by his jeans that are dragged down, leaving him in his grey boxers that posess a small patch of precum
"You're so pretty" you tell him, genuinely in awe at his state, messy long mullet making his doe eyes stand out, honey colored skin decorated with tiny moles and that unfairly small waist,
Muscular thighs flexing when he crawls back over you, his tattooed arm reaching down to caress your inner thighs,
"thank you sweetheart" he says, pressing a kiss to your lips before his head hovers over your chest, looking up to you
Your head is tilted down, keeping eye contact while your lips quiver and your hands get lost in his hair,
Slowly, his tongue darts out, licking over your clothed nipple and monitoring your moans become louder, the heat rushing to your face
"Mnhm!" you whine, shutting your eyes but he only latches on more, sucking with a satisfied smirk, alternating between breasts to distract from his hand that creeps to your wet cunt, cupping it with little rubs
"Wanna pound this little pussy" his words shoot to your core, raspy and desperate in the way he says them
You nod pathetically, not in the state to give proper replies anymore
He manhandles you to be pushed back legs up on his shoulders, exposing yourself to him entirely
He smiles down to you, pumping his length a few times before lining up to your soppy entrance,
"Ready angel?"
you give him a reqssuring smile to which he kisses your lips while pushing himself in inch by inch, gliding his whole cock desperately into your wamrth
"so tiny, so snug everytime" he says, licking over your lips while slowly thrusting into you,
"you feel so good kook, faster please" you're whining, nightgown bunching up with every thrust, the see through material making each rock of your body look like a work of art, complentary to your skin tone, pointing out the blush on your cheeks
He looks down at you, one arm steady on your hip while the other is caressing one of your legs on his shoulder,
"You're so beautiful, i can't last long like this baby" he's a mess, moaning loudly and fully entranced with your body and voice, the clench of your cunt sucking him in, his tip is throbbing, hitting deep within you
Jungkook already feel his orgasm about to hit him, just when he wants to pull out to pleasure you instead, you stop him,
"Please kook, cum first, cum all you want, keep going until you can't" you're whining, looking at him with pleading eyes and he can't help but curse, continuing to fuck into you harder,
His cum splurts inside of you, he pushes it in with a couple more strokes, panting while his cock is still hard and pulsating in your cervix
He pulls out, leaning down to kisw your clit
"Let me make it up to you pretty" reaching for the nightdrawer, you knew exactly what was about to happen
With the small pink toy between his tattooed fingers, he tells you to sit on his cock,
You let yourself down on him with a loud moan, this new angle making you feel him even deeper, desperate to start grinding on him
He's moaning too, still sensitive from the prior orgasm, nonetheless, one hand grips your hip as you start rocking back and forth with his dick stuffed deep inside you
The other one switches on the toy, pressing the buzzing nub to your clit
"Oh fuck kook" you're a mess now too, rapidly humping on his dick and rubbing your clit against the little vibrator on it, his eyes close, feeling your walls clamp down on him with every hasty roll of your hips
He's groaning, moving the hand from your hip to one of your tits, playing with it
"Gonna cum! S'too much baby i'm gonna cum" you warn him, grinding having switched to bouncing up and down on his thick length, his cum from earlier covering his cock, spilling down from your pussy along with your own slick
He feels his own high approaching, encouraging you to keep going a little longer while he keeps pressing the toy on your abused little clit
"Okay..okay cum now baby, cum with me" he whines, once he feels you loosen around him, a string of whimpers leave your lips aswell
He switches the toy off, snapping his hips into you from below and finally cumming himself, filling you to the brim with all that he has left in him
"Mhm.. god that's so good.. so good baby.." he says, chest rising from the intensity,
You collapse on top of him with a weak, satisfied smile,
"Awh... pretty girl" he coos, flipping both of you to the side so he can wrap you in his arms and pull out,
Your head nuzzles back from him to look at his pleased face, stroking his naked chest with your small fingers,
"I love you so much" you tell him, pressing sweet kisses to his neck,
He feels heavenly right in this moment, wrapped up with the love of his life on his birthday, pleased and in the confines of his own home
"I love you more angel..thank you for the amazing birthday" he says, stroking your hair and pressing small kisses to his head
"Happy birthday baby, you deserve it" you reply, smiling against his skin
You can feel the cum begin to run down the inside of your legs, sticking to your skin,
They feel weak and sore, so you do what you usually do,
"Baby? Do you mind helping me clean? It feels sticky" you cringe your face Upwards, upon noticing it he smiles, nodding and moving to lay you flat on your back, pulling the nightdress down after
You think it's because he's gonna dress you in your pj's after cleaning you up, instead, his hands fumble with the fluffy white lingerie
"Kook?" You ask curiously
"What's up angel?" non chalantly, he moves over you to dress you in the small panties,
"What are you doing?" you're kicking your legs, chuckling at his behavior
Should have known he isn't done after you only came one time
He smiles too, holding you still and struggling to put on the panties to your body,
"There's two more sets baby, let me eat you out nicely, you only came once" he says, kissing your ankle
without wanting to protest and just getting ready to recieve your pleasure, you smile, already spreading your legs for him to creep in between
"You drive me crazy" you tell him with a lick of your lips
"If only you knew" he says, moving to work himself up to put on the matching bra
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ronearoundblindly · 1 month
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Big Pharma
Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader
Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?
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Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.
Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮‍💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k
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The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.
Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.
As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.
This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.
You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.
You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.
Well, the only side effect.
Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”
“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”
“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”
You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.
“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…
“Good. A team player. We value that here.”
You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.
“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.
He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.
You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.
Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.
See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.
Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.
The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.
Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior. 
You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.
Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.
Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?
“Doc, no,” he breaths.
“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.
Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”
‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.
“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.
He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.
It’s your job to break him and break him right now.
“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”
There’s a flat smack on the door.
“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.
That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.
“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”
In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.
Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.
You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.
“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.
He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.” 
His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.
You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.
Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.
“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”
That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.
His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.
Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.
You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.
He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.
Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.
“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.
Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.
Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.
Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.
You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.
A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”
You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.
“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock. 
He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.
He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.
A box of tissues is set by your side.
“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?” 
You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”
Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.
“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.
“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”
Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.
There’s another impatient bang at the door.
“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”
Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”
It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.
You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.
Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.
“What’d you do, blow a vein?”
You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.
“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.
His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.
Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.
It seems you’re both addicted now.
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[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]
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salarymanwaka · 4 months
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emmyrosee · 6 months
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happy birthday to my Kiyoomi man (and my momma LMAOO-)
—-
When the side of the bed next to him is cold, Kiyoomi is immediately suspicious.
You’re never up and out long enough for your side of the bed to become cold, you hate the feeling of having to rewarm it under your body (though you assure him you don’t mind too much, as you warm up in his arms).
Regardless, he wakes up with a cocked brow and a small, sleepy scowl.
He makes his way out of the room, adorned only in his boxers, knuckling his eyes and smacking his lips as he searches for you.
He checks the bathroom, only to find the door wide open and dark. Then, he checks the kitchen, seeing it in a similar state, he feels a small sense of panic creep through his body.
Only to disappear when he enters the living room and finds you, sleeping. There’s countless black and gold balloons surrounding you, your body curled in on itself for warmth and a cup of cold tea resting next to you. He smiles and looks at the clock. 4 am. You must’ve been out here for hours, blowing up balloons by mouth alone.
“Hey,” he whispers, creeping towards you. He gently lays a hand on your shoulder and shakes you awake, “whatcha doin?”
“Balloons,” you barely manage, voice drunk with sleep and heavy with exhaustion. Your throat sounds raw, probably from so much energy going into the balloon blowing. He chuckles and looks around the room for more details.
There’s a small sign with “happy birthday” in black and gold still wrapped in plastic, black party hats and plates on the side table- you probably were planning on having the boys over for breakfast this morning.
“C’mon, baby,” he says softly, poking you with his toe. “Let’s go back to bed. You need it.”
“C’me.”
“Huh?”
“Carry me,” you whine.
He rolls his eyes with a smile before bending down and scooping you up in his arms, adjusting you comfortably before making his way back to the bedroom with you cradled in his arms.
“D’t tell ‘omi,” you slur, and he snickers softly.
“Won’t say a word.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 9 months
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Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING
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Pairing: Gojo x reader (fem!pronouns)
Word Count: 1,2k
Synopsis: Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...
Warnings: this is fluffness overload so be prepared, (y/n) has a really bubbly and Mitsuri-like personality, let me know what you thiiiiink and enjoy your holidays🤍
Your heart jumps up and down in joy, feet carrying you down the hallway at lightspeed. Finally he’s back. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? Definitely too long.
“Satoru!”, you cry out.
There he stands, his arms already wide open while wearing the casual sly grin you adore so much. You can’t contain yourself any longer, your giggles filling his very own heart with nothing but joy.
Satoru doesn’t remember exactly how it all started. After some random mission, he saw a little figure of your favourite animal standing innocently in a show window. He didn’t think much of it, bought it only because it reminded him of you. But oh, you were so joyful back then.
“Are you kidding me?”, you breathed out, glossy eyes staring at the pretty ugly figure so heartfelt that Satoru couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at you.
“It reminded me of you since I know it’s your favourite animal, so yeah…You like it?”
“Like it?”
You grabbed his hands with so much passion that he almost fell backwards, jumping up and down in delight.
“I love it, Satoru! This is probably the nicest thing someone ever did for me!”
It was inevitable from there on. The urge to see your heartfelt joy after every mission became an obsession, forcing him to look into every window, into every shop on the haunt for something you might like. To be honest it made everything more bearable. The loss of his best friend, the people around him dying, all the things that keep him up at night seem to disappear when he’s looking for souvenirs to bring you.
And this.
You almost knock him over by the way you let yourself fall into his arms, hands intertwined behind his back just the way he likes it. Oh, your smell is so intoxicating, as well as your gorgeous appearance sends warm shivers down his spine. How is it even possible that you seem to get more and more breath-taking every time he sees you?
“I was so worried about you! Why didn’t you answer your calls?”, you mumble against the fabric of his uniform, instantly greeted by the singing smell of curses.
“Oh y’know, I had to do a little work from now and then. Like killing off some demons and saving a whole town from getting wiped out. So sorry I didn’t call you back”, he teases you gently.
“That didn’t stop me from getting something for you, though…”
Your eyes widen in sheer excitement, head darting towards him instantly.
“No, you didn’t”, you mutter, lips already forming the most adorable smile.
“Heck yeah I did.”
“I told you over and over that you don’t need to do that, Satoru!”
“Do you like them?”
You bite your lip in a miserable attempt to suppress the wide grin that creeps up your face, cheeks turning the shade of pink that makes Satoru lose his mind.  You are so breath-taking, so pure that it warms his heart.
“Of course I do”, you mumble into your hand.
“There you go.”
He hands you a small box, the brush of his tender touch against your hand sending electricity right through your body. With trembling fingers, you open the light blue ribbon wrapped around it, exposing a simple yet stunning necklace. You desperately try to hold back tears, so moved that you are utterly speechless.
This necklace isn’t this simple. No, engraved into it in Satoru’s iconic handwriting, it says “every thought, you”.
“You can’t be serious about this, Satoru. I really don’t deserve this.”
“You deserve this and even more, (y/n). Do you like it?”
“You ask me if I like it?”, you repeat breathless.
Your finger brushes over the engraving carefully, feeling every curve and every stroke of his elegant hand writing. This must have been expensive – way too expensive for a simple souvenir. But oh how much you love it already, you’ll keep this close to your heart day in and day out.
“I love it. Thank you so much.”
There’s no time to waste. With a swift motion you lunge yourself at him all over again, burying your face against his broad chest. You truly don’t deserve his kindness, his affection. What an outstanding man he is, so tender that it makes you tear up.
“I’d do anything to make you smile”, he mutters into your hair, hands stroking your back ever so gently.
Smile…Oh, you almost forgot!
“Would you…Would you mind coming to my dorm for a second? There’s something I want to give you as well.”
You wipe your tears away unladylike, your hand grabbing his before he’s even able to answer your question.
“Something you want to give to me? Remember when I told you you don’t have to buy me anything?”
“Remember when I told you the same?”, you remark with a slight grin, literally dragging him into your room.
In fact, you stumbled upon this cute figure of a white cat the other day. There was no way you’d leave without buying it, not when it reminded you so much of him.
You swing your drawer open without thinking twice, grabbing the cute little cat with your face glowing in proud.
“Okay, now that’s adorable”, Satoru laughs gently.
Somehow, his eyes get stuck on your drawer though. It looks messy, almost flooding over with all the pieced cramped into it. But no, that isn’t some random rubbish. That figure that stands in the middle of it, it looks so familiar. As well as all those letters, the sweets, the postcards…
It dawns to him, heart skipping a beat. These are all the souvenirs he brought you over the last few years.
“Don’t tell me you kept everything I gave you.”
Oh, please tell him you did.
“Huh?”
Your innocent eyes dart towards the drawer behind you, your cheeks instantly heating up all over again.
“Oh…of course I kept them! Why would I ever throw them away?”
“You even kept the packages of the sweets from last months…”
His heart almost overspills with love. You have to be an angel, too pure and kind for this world. Just one look into your tender eyes is enough to sweep him off his feet, the little cat he holds in his hand sending him over the edge.
“I just love to get reminded of you I guess.”
“And I love you, (y/n). You have to be the most precious human being I’ve ever met.”
The way your eyes widen and your mouth shoots open is priceless. You look so utterly surprised that he can’t help but chuckle while wrapping his strong arms around you all over again.
“Y-you, loving me?”, you stutter.
“Well, I was hoping you’d love me too-“
“I do”, you interrupt him immediately.
“I love you more than any souvenir!”, you babble out.
“That’s what a man needs to hear”, he laughs softly.
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @chilichopsticks
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starsofang · 2 months
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everybody had forgotten your birthday. well — everybody except for one person. that person remained a mystery, leaving you a wrapped gift on top of your desk.
the wrapping was pretty, decked in your favorite color with a neat bow slapped on top. it was a stereotypical gift, but it was the only one you’d received for your birthday, and to you, the execution was as beautiful as ever.
one thing was missing, and it was a name. on the tag, rather than saying who it was from, it was a scribbled out heart replaced with a simple smiley face. you didn’t have a clue who the gift could be from, but whoever delivered it was clearly on the fence about revealing their identity.
upon unwrapping the box, you discovered a jewelry box. black, velvet, simple. opening it was an entirely different story.
a lovely bracelet, shiny and new, riddled with little charms of your favorite things. a neat touch of your birthstone was in the mix, as well as a small initial for your name. it was gorgeous, the most perfect gift you could ever ask for, and you desperately wanted to thank the person who retrieved it for you.
you had your suspicions. there was johnny, who could be quite the brat but also a thoughtful friend. or gaz, who was always considerate of your interests and gave you open ears no matter the time of day. ghost didn’t seem the sentimental type, nor did price.
it wasn’t until the next morning, as you walked into the rec room to make yourself a cup of tea, did you know. you adorned the bracelet with pride, the little charms jingling as you poured hot water into your mug.
price stepped in, greeting you with his signature kind smile. you mirrored him, offering a good morning. he joined you in making a tea for himself, the air filled with a comfortable silence. he seemed hyper focused on dipping his tea bag rather than look at you, and if you squinted, you could sense a brief awkwardness looming out of him.
“i see you liked your gift,” he murmured quietly, sparing a quick glance to the bracelet before returning to his tea.
you startled in surprise, eyes wide as you peered up at him while he continued to avoid looking back. “that was you?” you asked.
he hummed in response, finally turning to you to lean his hip on the counter. he lifted his mug, taking a long sip of his fresh tea. “wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world, bug. i was just worried about gettin’ you the right thing.”
“i didn’t know you remembered,” you confessed shyly. you lifted your arm to inspect the bracelet once more, the little initial dangling prettily. “it’s beautiful. i love it. thank you, john.”
price cleared his throat, looking almost flustered. he darted his eyes to your bracelet before looking away again, hiding in his mug. “it’s nothin’, bug.”
“and the crossed out heart on the gift tag was also nothing, i assume?” you grinned knowingly. “the smiley face was a nice touch, though the heart would’ve been cute to keep, too.”
price grumbled into his mug, side eyeing you. “thought the heart might be too much. don’t want you gettin’ the wrong idea.”
“what idea would that be, sir?” you asked teasingly, taking an innocent sip of your tea.
price attempted to hide his smile, but you could see the small quirks on the corners of his mouth, begging to turn up. “minx,” he muttered in feigned annoyance, giving an affectionate pinch to your cheek before stalking off to the exit of the room.
you smiled bashfully, holding the bracelet dear to your chest as you watched him go, the telltale of a smile on his lips leaving with him.
maybe if you prodded him some more, his initial would join yours on the bracelet one day.
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makuzume · 2 months
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JJK Characters Forgetting About Your Birthday (Part 2)
🔅characters: Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Geto
🔅content: no pronoun mentions; cursing; angsty (not angsty enough😞) but they beg for you (and we love it when they beg)
🔅a/n: guys stop pls, you make me giggle too much with all your comments. Here's a lil treat for all you angsty babes <3 though I really hope I didn't disappoint you with part 2 :')
[JJK Masterlist] [Part 1] [Revenge: Forgetting Their Bday]
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🔅Satoru Gojo🔅
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🔅Kento Nanami🔅
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🔅Toji Fushiguro🔅
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🔅Suguru Geto🔅
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tags: @aervera @higuchislut @kalopsia-flaneur @louis8v @aerasdore @itawifeyy @pretutie @zhenyuuu @suguwuuu @jotarohat @ladygreenhermit @shaylove418 @creative1writings
Credits to @makuzume on Tumblr || Do not steal, translate, modify, reupload my works on any platform.
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fleur-bbyy · 10 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ WAKING THEM UP TO FUCK!
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PAIRINGS: SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, KENTO NANAMI.
WARNINGS: MDNI!!! female reader, pet names, (gojo) cuddle fucking, (geto) missionary, light teasing, (toji) cowgirl, him being a lazy bastard, (nanami) doggy, ass slapping
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SATORU GOJO: just as horny as you are.
the air around you is sweltering as you wake from your dream, but you swear your core feels even hotter.
you’re already soaked, panties sticking to your skin. sticking uncomfortably at that. it’s early, too early to even think about trying to get off. causing you to try to wiggle around and get comfortable again so you could go back to sleep before you feel an arm sling around your waist.
“can’t keep squirming like that, baby.” satoru’s voice is low in your ear with the slightest rasp. enough rasp to make your cunt clench around absolutely nothing and for your body to involuntarily squirm again.
“sorry, satoru. just got woken up from a dream.”
“oh?” his slender fingers rub up and down your side, lingering a little longer when they reached your hip. “is that why your panties are so wet?”
you frown. you know he’s used to this and it doesn’t bother him at all, but you still feel bad for waking him in the night so frequently.
“‘m sorry, ‘toru. i know you have to work tomorrow.” he hooks his chin over your shoulder and giggles into your neck.
“don’t be sorry, pretty girl, not faring much better than you right now.” you feel him shallowly thrust against your ass, feeling how hard his cock is. “how about you help me out and i help you?” his fingers slip from your waist to the top of your panties and once you nod your head, he’s pulling them down just far enough to uncover your pussy.
“this is why sleeping naked is so worth it,” he pauses as he lines up with your entrance and begins to push in, the pair of you moaning when he sinks in all the way, “makes it so i can help my girl faster.”
you whimper when his hand moves to grip your waist, holding you closer to him as he begins to thrust. your pussy squelching from how wet you were.
“were you having a good dream baby? that why you’re so soaked f’me?” you moan again in response, frantically nodding your head.
“yeah?” he thrusts into you harshly and groans, “tell me allllll about it, pretty, and i’ll make it come true.”
SUGURU GETO: tired until he slips it in.
you knew better than to wake up suguru late on a work night, but you were aching so badly and it wasn’t something just your own fingers could fix.
his raven hair was spread across his pillow and his arm was slung across his eyes to black any of the light in the room. he looked unbelievably beautiful and hot, even though you couldn’t see his whole face.
“please baby?” you whisper, kissing the column of his neck. “i won’t do it again. i promise.” the corner of his lips tug into a smirk and his hand snakes down to palm his growing erection.
“you’re so lucky i love you.” you smile when he lazily rolls on top of you. your face scrunching into pleasure when he runs a finger through your wet slit.
“no panties baby? sure you weren’t planning on waking me up?” his voice still laced with sleep.
“no, never.” you smile up at him again, eyes low as you watch him jerk his thick cock a few times before lining in up with your sopping hole. pushing in just the tip to play with you.
“don’t tease right now, need you so bad.”
“yeah?” he pauses to yawn, eyes squinting, but never moving from the sight of your pussy stretching around the head. “how bad, baby?”
“so bad, please don’t make me beg.” you roll your hips into him and stick out your bottom lip. he groans, not wanting to tease you more for your and his sake.
“y’so lucky i’m sleepy and don’t wanna tease.” he says, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he begins to sink into you further. both of you throwing your head back and his eyes snapping shut.
“ohh fuck.” he growls. hips rolling forward to meet yours and your skin making a slight slapping sound when they connect. suguru leans over to grip the headboard. long, messy hair dangling in his face.
“so sorry for waking you up, ‘guru.” you whine as he reaches so impossibly deep inside you. the headboard beginning to smack against the wall.
“don’t be sorry, baby, i’m wiiiide awake now.”
TOJI FUSHIGURO: he’ll wake up, but makes you do the work.
“toji, baby?” you lightly shake his arm to no avail. “tooooji.” you throw the duvet off of your hot skin and shake him once more, grinning when he stirs from his sleep.
“what’re y’waking me up at this time for?” he rubs his eyes with his fists and looks at the small digital clock on his nightstand. the deep rumble of his voice and the slur of his words only served to make your core ache even more than it already did. tracing his happy trail with your eyes down to the waistband of his sweatpants and fixating your gaze on his bulge.
“‘m so horny, baby.” you swing a leg over his torso and straddle him, the heat of your clothed pussy radiating onto the part of him your wanted most.
“yeah? y’want me to fix that, don’tcha?” you nod your head and see his scarred lips tug into a smirk as he flips the rest of the duvet off of his legs. feeling one of his large hands rub your side. his eyelids low and eyes still bleary from being woken up. “hop on f’me, princess.”
your hands gently, but quickly, tug down his grey sweats, practically drooling when his hard cock springs free from its confines and slaps his stomach. you push your own panties to the side and slowly begin to sink down on him, already moaning loudly just from the stretch. his hands rest lazily on your hips as you begin to bounce on him. throwing your head back in ecstasy when you get the angle just right.
“baby?” you whisper out, already breathless.
“hm?”
“you’re not gonna help?” he smirks again and tucks one of his arms behind his head.
“nah, baby. y’woke me up. i’m gonna enjoy my show.”
KENTO NANAMI: was never asleep in the first place.
you awake to the sounds of your bedroom door shutting gently and rustling in your dresser drawers.
your eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to the light the lamp on nanami’s nightstand produces. finally focusing on the blonde undoing his tie in front of the mirror. you don’t bother to look at the time, you know it’s late by the way nanami’s posture is slightly drooped.
“kento?” you barely whisper, voice still waking up with you. he turns to look in your direction as he untucks his dress shirt and begins to unbutton it.
“hi honey,” he stops to fumble with a tricky button on his shirt, “shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“maybe, but i’d rather see you.” and boy is that the truth.
your eyes ghost across his body, taking in the way his jaw clenches, how tight his pants are around his thighs, the tuft of hair peeking out from the top his shirt, finally stopping when you notice that his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and exposing his bulging arms.
“that so?”
“mhm.” you flip the blanket off your legs, revealing the nightgown you were wearing. his favorite nightgown to be exact. “was missin’ you.”
“i can tell.” his shirt is thrown into the hamper, or at least he thinks it is. he was too preoccupied by how pretty you looked in that little gown to double check.
he keeps watching as you hop up from the bed, the hem of your gown barely covering your ass as you walked over in the direction of the hamper. his cheeks flushed when you bent over and he could see every bit of your glistening pussy.
“you missed, silly.” you said as you picked up his discarded shirt and put it properly in the basket. looking back at him over your shoulder and smiling coyly when he began to saunter over to you. simultaneously removing his leather belt from the loops of his pants and fumbling with the zipper.
“beginning to think you woke up on purpose.” he made quick work of freeing his cock from his boxers and dress pants, groaning when you rubbed your wet cunt against him. “naughty girl.”
“mmm, yeah? only for you.” he groans again when you reach behind you to grab his cock and position the tip to your wet hole. smiling back at him once more before pushing your ass back against him and pushing his cock in at the same time.
“you’re such a fuckin’ angel, shit.” he uses one of his hands to bend you over and the other to grip the fat of your hip. you’re wetter than ever and your sweet cunt is sucking him in like your life depended on it.
“sure you can handle it, baby?” you moan out, back arching and giving nanami a delicious view. “i know you have work tomorrow, ken.”
“if you cared about that, you would’ve asked about it first.” he laughs and takes the splayed hand off your back to give your ass two good slaps. “besides, i’d be a damn fool to choose sleep over this.”
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a/n: self indulgent sleepy sex for my birfday :3
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squeakyducky · 3 months
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EVERYBODY TAKE A LOOK AT THIS
Lucifer's reaction when MC told him they want to marry him
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He's so adorable please 😭😭😭
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jomeimei421 · 3 months
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Everyone, wake up! Do you remember how to kill a demon king?
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a11eya · 4 months
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TITLE: do you still think about me?
PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.
You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.
You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.
(It's not fine.)
TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, soft Bakugou Katsuki, fluff, mutual pining, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader with afab body parts, reader with hair that can be pushed away from face when damp
STATUS: Completed; 3 of 3
NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist
NOTE: Minors, DNI! This chapter contains smut.
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“Watch it,” Bakugou snaps. 
His hand shoots out to grab your upper arm as you stumble over a hidden tree root, too engrossed in the pictures you’re taking with your phone to notice what’s underfoot.
“Pay attention,” he growls as he steadies you. His hand is warm where it’s wrapped around you. 
Heart thumping in your chest, you slip your phone into your pocket, feeling duly admonished. 
“Sorry,” you say, looking up at him. “And thank you. Your reflexes are amazing.” 
Bakugou scowls at you. “Be more careful or I’m taking you back down.” 
“You and what army?” You stick your tongue out at him.
Some expression you can’t quite read flickers across his face, and he narrows his eyes at you.
Your momentary courage deserts you. You squeak and pull yourself free from his grasp, making your way hurriedly up the marked path while trying to balance caution and speed so you don’t trip and fall on your face.
Behind you, you hear a sharp bark of laughter. You can’t help but look back. 
Bakugou’s gaze immediately catches yours. There are traces of laughter still in his face—in his eyes, on his lips. 
It’s not the first time you’ve heard him laugh, of course. Kaminari’s hilarious, and when he, Kirishima, and Hanta get going at parties, everyone’s laughing. (Even if Bakugou sometimes laughs at them more than with them.) And that’s not even taking into account how much of a menace Bakugou is when Todoroki’s around to tease.
But it’s the first time you’ve made him laugh. You want to keep making him laugh, you realize. You really like him, and it’s such a problem. All that time spent trying to keep your distance, get over him? Undone within a few days.
As Bakugou’s long strides quickly eat up the distance between you, you try to compose yourself, hoping none of your thoughts are visible in your expression. It’s fine.
He puts a hand on your back, nudging you forward. 
“C’mon,” he tells you. “If you wanna make it back in time for dinner, save the pictures and the attitude for the top.” 
Much of the trail takes you through a forest filled with cedar and birch trees with a steady incline upwards. Wooden stairs and handholds appear a couple times, as this hiking trail is well-traveled. You pass some people in pairs or families on your way up, but not often. 
When you hike—and yes, you usually do take a friend or two, Bakugou—you prefer not to talk much. A lot of the time it’s because your lungs can’t multitask; the physical exertion of breathing is more than enough. But it’s also because you hate to cut through the sound of nature with your voice. You love the birdsong, the wind rustling the trees, the faint hum of insects. 
Bakugou is quiet too, for the most part. When he does speak, his voice is low, quiet, with check-ins and directives. 
“You out of water? Here.” You find out he has water, a first aid kit, snacks, and who knows what else in the backpack he’s brought along.
“Gimme your hands. Rocks’re slippery here.” He’s all easy strength, a warm grip. Your hands in his. 
“Let’s stop here for a minute.” He’s not tired at all, but you are as things get steeper, and you don’t even need to say anything for him to pause for a break. 
Bakugou’s a good hiking partner. He’s better than Rie, who refuses to do anything with an incline and complains the whole way anyway, or Hanta, who chats your ear off the entire time and outpaces you with his long legs and hero stamina. 
Maybe when the two of you get back to Musutafu, Bakugou’d be willing to go on another hike with you. A friendly hike. You’ve never done anything one-on-one with him before this weekend, and since you’re slowly coming to accept that maybe you’ll have feelings for him forever, it’ll be fine. 
You reach the peak around noon. 
“Bakugou,” you say, staring out into the distance. You glance away briefly to put your hand on his forearm, shaking it slightly in excitement. 
Bakugou huffs, stepping closer to you. 
“Look,” you tell him, and his eyes meet yours. You know it’s because of a few clumsy moments you had getting up here that he’s keeping within arms length of you at all times, but—he’s so close. And he acts like he has no idea what he looks like, sunlight limning his blond hair and turning his eyes clear crimson. 
You look away, back out. You don’t want to make things weird when—when you’re friends, now, right? The time you’ve spent together this weekend, just the two of you… you’ve got to be friends at this point. 
You push your thoughts aside and try to recenter yourself, focus on what’s in front of you.
Trees grow everywhere you look in deep shades of green and umber. The nearby lake shimmers, placid. In the distance are mountains, making their mark against the horizon. 
“It’s so beautiful out here,” you say. You turn your head to look at Bakugou again, smiling, only to find that he’s still looking at you. Your hand’s still on his arm. 
A little flustered, you let go of him. In a voice softer than you intend, you tell him, “I’m having a great time. Thanks for coming with me.” 
He looks at you for a long moment.
“Good,” he says. 
Soaking in the open-air bath does wonders for your body. 
It’s a little too early for muscle aches and soreness, but you can already feel how fatigued certain parts of your body are—your feet, your calves. The hot water is like a balm as you submerge yourself to your chin. 
The public onsen is nice, but crowded. You visited yesterday, after the morning market, and enjoyed it. But it’s a different experience, here in your room’s private outdoor bath. It’s like you’re the only one in the whole world. You needed this time and space to yourself after returning from the hike with Bakugou. When you’re with him, it feels like all your senses are dialed to 110% and the only thing you can think of is him. In the hours since the hike, you took a nap and then checked in with your friends. 
Sero finally got back to you late last night, letting you know that he’d met Rie halfway and traveled back with her to Musutafu. Rie messaged you a picture she’d taken of herself, looking haggard and depleted, with her client barely visible in the background looking stunningly gorgeous. Rie’s always been super talented at turning people into works of art.
They both asked how you’re doing. In your group chat with them, you sent along pictures of the gifts you’d gotten them and the photos you took on your hike. The views you captured look unreal, like CGI, they’re so pretty. 
You even got Bakugou to take a few pictures—a couple of you, with a big grin, throwing up a peace sign, and even a selfie of the both of you. He’s not smiling, exactly, in it, but his neutral expression is handsome anyway. You weren’t sure he wanted it, but you sent the picture to him, just in case. 
You did make the mistake of sending one of your solo pictures in your group chat with Rie and Sero because Rie immediately sent you several follow-up direct messages while Sero just sent a thumbs up.
Rie: Who took this????
Rie: Who were you with??
If you told the truth, you’d never hear the end of it. Instead of replying to her, guiltily, you left her messages unopened, to deal with later. 
You drift, eyes closed. The daytime sounds of birds and cicadas have been replaced by the chirping of crickets as the sun sets, casting a dreamy orange glow over everything. 
You’ve nearly dozed off when the sound of knocks on your door has you stirring. 
Briefly, you entertain the urge to ignore it. It’s probably someone who’s got the wrong room, as you aren’t expecting anyone. You do plan on ordering the in-room dining menu but haven’t gotten around to requesting it yet. 
But the knocks come again, and then your phone pings. 
Sighing, you stand, water sloshing and streaming off your body. You grab a towel and briskly rub yourself down so you aren’t dripping water everywhere, and then you shrug on the onsen-provided robe. 
As you pad over to the front door, you grab your phone and glance at the screen. 
The message preview says—
Bakugou: You in your room? 
Blinking, you jerk your head up to stare at the door. It’s quiet now. 
Hurrying over, you open it. No one’s there. 
You stick your head out and look both ways. To your left, you see Bakugou’s retreating back.
“Bakugou,” you call. “Come back!”
He stops, turns. His eyes land on you, and he scowls. 
You resist the urge to jerk back. What’s his deal? You were in the bath; you answered the door as fast as you could.
You make a face at him. 
With long strides, Bakugou’s back at your door. He steps close, almost crowding you. 
“Get back in there, you aren’t even dressed,” he says. His eyes drop down to your shoulder, then quickly dart back to your face. 
Your robe had loosened, one side sliding down your shoulder a little when you���d leaned out to look for him. You feel your face begin to warm as suddenly, you’re hyper aware you’re not wearing anything under this robe and he’s just a step or two away. 
You fix your robe.
“There isn’t even anyone around,” you say, stubborn, just to get your mind off of the path it’s taking. He’s clearly freshly showered, hair damp, and you’re reminded of your first night here in the bamboo garden, him, under the moonlight. 
Stop. 
As if to prove you wrong, you begin to hear the faintest sound of voices echoing from down the hall. Bakugou looks at you as if to say I told you so. 
You step back. “Come in.”
Closing the door behind him, you cross your arms over your chest, trying not to feel self-conscious. 
“What brought you over here, anyway?” you ask. 
“Was gonna ask if you wanna eat with me for dinner,” Bakugou says. He avoids looking at you, glances around your room, and you’re glad that you’re generally a pretty tidy person. Glad that he’s not looking at you, but also a little disappointed, though you know it’s dumb. He’s not interested. 
“I’d love to, but I feel like a limp noodle,” you say. “I doubt I’ll make it to the restaurant. And I might fall asleep over dinner. I was gonna order their in-room dining menu instead.” 
You’re telling the truth. You feel like you’ve spent your time well on this vacation, but you’re tired.
But you don’t want to say no; you don’t want to turn him away. You’ve already spent so much time with him, but it’s like you can’t get enough. 
“Do you wanna join me?” you ask. 
Bakugou puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. But let’s eat in my room.”
You furrow your brows. “Why? We’re already here in mine.” 
He shrugs a shoulder. “Go get dressed.”
You stare at him, bewildered. What logical explanation could there be for him to want to dine in his room instead? Maybe his room’s nicer than yours? But he’s never struck you as the kind of guy to care about stuff like that. Maybe he forgot something in there? But that’s silly, he presumably just came from there. The in-room dining menu costs the same across the rooms, so it can’t be that…
Pausing, you narrow your eyes at him. “Wait. Is it because you want to charge the meal to your room?”
His silence is telling. He looks at you, unwavering, as if maintaining eye contact will make you back down. But you’re unintimidated. 
“I know your tricks now, Bakugou,” you tell him, smug. “You can’t fool me. We’re eating here, and I’m paying for it as thanks for the hike today. Go sit on the couch, feel free to turn on the TV. I’ll be right back.”
You turn before he can say anything, grabbing some clothes from the dresser and walking into the bathroom to change. Faintly, you hear the sound of the TV being turned on. 
Your small victory has you re-energized. You change, buoyed with it. You do wonder about this newly discovered quirk of Bakugou’s—paying for things unnecessarily. You do recall he’s never been stingy, covering rounds of drinks at get-togethers, spotting your mutual friends’ meals on birthdays. 
It doesn’t come across as—I have more money than you do, so I’m flaunting it, even though you’re aware that he does make more than most of your friend group because of his higher hero ranking and the fact he owns his own agency. It feels more so like his way of showing his friends he cares; it’s warming that it’s something he’s trying to do with you. 
It’s juvenile, this need to be reassured, but you wish you could ask him if he thinks of you as a friend. 
When you leave the bathroom, you find Bakugou sitting on the couch, flipping through the provided menu. He looks up as you approach and sit a cushion away from him. 
“You like fruit?” Bakugou asks. 
“…Yes?” you say, blinking. “That’s so random.” 
He tilts his head toward the other end of the couch where the gifts you’d bought at the market sit. Sero’s bag of fruits is open, peeking through. 
“Oh! Those are for Hanta. You know he likes citrus fruit, right? You got him those oranges a couple weeks back.” 
Bakugou raises a brow. “He tell you about that?” 
“Yeah! He was talking about them non-stop for a couple days. Couldn’t get him to shut up. It was really sweet of you—I think those oranges are his favorite variety.” 
Bakugou’s expression is hard to make out, but you think maybe he’s pleased. He’s a really great friend, you think. 
“Let’s order,” he says. 
You order to your heart’s content, feeling justified since you’d only eaten an onigiri and some snacks Bakugou’s brought for lunch, at the peak. While you wait, a hero special on All Might begins playing on the TV, and the both of you are unable to resist being drawn into it. He was the hero of your childhoods, after all, the biggest star.
“What’s he like, anyway?” you ask Bakugou. When he looks at you askew, you make a face at him. 
“I only ever saw him at events or peripherally, teaching the hero course,” you say defensively. “You probably don’t remember, but I was in the management course.”
“I remember,” he says. You resist the urge to grimace. You wish he didn’t; you’ve been getting along so well that you lulled yourself into forgetting about your cringy past. 
“...He’s annoying,” Bakugou says after a moment, interlocking his fingers and staring down at them. “Old man doesn’t know when to quit. Still at that damn school.” 
“Still teaching?” you ask. “That’s nice.” 
“Should retire,” Bakugou mutters. “He’s done enough.” 
“He’s done more than enough, I think,” you say. “But you heroes always give so much of yourselves, going where you’re needed. It’s one of the best things about you.” 
Bakugou looks up at you, tilts his head. 
After a moment, you realize. 
“About you, as in heroes in general!” you say hastily. You’re a liar. You were thinking about him, not All Might, not all heroes. 
A couple knocks at the door save you, and when you move to get up, Bakugou motions for you to stay. 
“I’ll get it,” he says. You sit there, beating yourself up over your slip-up, as Bakugou speaks to the people at the door. You greet them when they come in, watching out of the way as they quickly set the table and arrange the dishes you’d ordered. 
You hardly notice as they leave as quickly as they came, so dazzled by the food on display. 
Bakugou touches your back, and you startle. You look at him. 
“Come sit,” he tells you.
“Okay,” you say. 
The food is delicious, but the company’s even better.
You find yourself talking about all kinds of things with him. 
“Do you go hiking often?” you ask. “You looked pretty comfortable out there.” 
“I like outdoorsy shit,” Bakugou says. “Hiking’s fine. I like mountain climbing best.”
“Mountain climbing?” You tilt your head. “That’s pretty intense. It suits you! I have a friend who’s into bouldering and is trying to get me into it. I feel like that might be more my speed.”
“You scared of heights?” 
“I’m scared of falling!” You laugh. “But with your quirk, I guess you don’t have that worry.” 
“If you want to try bouldering, tell me,” he says. He brings his cup of tea to his lips, takes a sip. 
You blink at him. “Do you know how?”
“Started with it a couple years back and moved on to climbing. Being outside’s better,” Bakugou says. 
“Okay! I’ll take you up on it,” you say, trying to hide the little thrill that runs through you at the thought that he wants to spend time with you, even when the both of you return home. 
You reach for the teapot to refill his cup, and your hand brushes against his, resting on the table. He doesn’t pull away. His eyes lift to meet yours, deep carmine in the low light. 
Before you know it, it’s true night. It’s not so late according to the time, but it feels like it is because the both of you were up early and had a physically taxing day. 
Mid-sentence, you cover your mouth as you yawn, little pinpricks of tears springing to your eyes. 
“Sorry,” you say, just as you catch Bakugou hiding a reciprocal yawn. It’s cute. You don’t think he’d appreciate you saying so, so you hide your smile. 
“You wanna sleep here?” you ask. “I’m sleeping in the bed nearest the windows. The one next to the wall was Rie’s, but they changed the sheets and everything yesterday. It hasn’t been touched since.” 
Bakugou looks at you for a moment. “You good with that?”
“If you are,” you tell him. “And if you’re okay with using the complimentary toothbrush they give out.” 
He snorts. “Thanks.” 
Getting ready for bed at the same time as him feeds into thoughts you refuse to acknowledge. He tells you to get ready first as he takes care of cleaning up the food and dishes to be taken away by the staff. You try to help, but he gives you this stubborn look you’re too tired to fight. You thank him instead and retreat into the bathroom. 
It’s only when you’re both in bed, the lights out, that those thoughts return, make themselves manifest.
The awkwardness you used to feel around him, the self-consciousness about your history, the pressure to keep him at a distance—it’s all faded so much into the background. Instead, your body hums with nerves, with a different kind of awareness. 
He looked at you a lot, today. Whenever you looked at him, he was already looking back. He made himself known with little touches here and there: on your back, your arms, your hands. You thought you’d imagined it yesterday, this morning, but—no. 
You’ve had partners before, both short and long term. That dance in the beginning, that will we, won’t we—you think you’re not imagining it here, with him. 
“Goodnight Bakugou,” you say quietly, in case he’s already asleep. You don’t trust yourself to look at him to check. Seeing him across sheets, soft and undone… you don’t trust yourself to look at him and keep these bubbling feelings inside.
“Night,” Bakugou says. 
When you wake, the sun isn’t even up. 
The room is dark, though it’s in hazy shadows that speak of a coming dawn. 
Blinking sleep away, you rub at your face and turn onto your side to reach for your phone. 
You freeze mid-motion. 
You’d forgotten Bakugou, sleeping in the other bed, still deep asleep. His face is restful, uncreased by a frown, though you can’t make out much more in the gloom. 
You look at him for a long moment. 
Quietly, you grab your phone off the bedside table and get out of bed, heading into the bathroom. You wash your face and brush your teeth before undressing and donning an onsen robe. You pad over to the sliding glass door leading out to the deck and open-air bath and step out. 
A simple shower sits in the corner of the deck, intended for rinsing off before bathing. You stand under the spray, scrubbing yourself down.
You want to use the open-air bath one more time before checking out. You want some time to yourself before you have to face the morning. Soaking in the steamy water, watching the sunrise—it’ll be a nice ending to this vacation. 
Suitably clean, you slip out of the robe, hanging it on a hook on the wall, before sliding into the bath.
It’s so hot it makes you hiss as you sink down, the steam visibly wafting in the air. The seats within the bath are at a perfect height for you to sit sideways in one of the corners, arms folded across the ledge. You rest your head on them.
The sky’s begun to change to a blue, with pink and orange streaking the horizon. You stare out into the distance, blinking slowly. 
You don’t regret spending so much time with Bakugou this weekend. You had a lot of fun, and when the alternative would’ve been a rather lonely couple of days, you’re grateful. You’re happy that you’ve grown closer, when it seemed an impossibility a couple days ago.
Knowing him as you do now—you like him so much. You like what you’ve learned about him, up close.
You feel guilty keeping your feelings from him; you want to tell him, but you’re not sure. You're teetering on the edge—are you reading too deeply into his words, his actions? Does he return your feelings? Or is his interest fleeting, just because of circumstance, likely to fade once you leave this ryokan behind? You don’t know. 
The sound of the sliding door opening jostles you from your thoughts. 
You turn just your head, keeping your front pressed against the side of the bath. 
Bakugou stands there, looking rumpled but forcibly alert. Like a tiger, just woken up from sleep, not sure what’d woken it up. Little water marks stain the front of his shirt, and the edges of his hair are damp, as if he’d washed his face. 
You stifle the urge to smile. 
“Good morning,” you say softly.
He grunts out what could be a greeting back.
“Did I wake you up?” you ask. “I’m sorry if I did.” 
“Y’didn’t,” he says. “I usually get up early.” 
Bakugou looks out over the pond, out at the trees on the far side, before looking at you.
“S’early for a bath,” he says. 
“Wanted to use it one last time while watching the sun rise.” You push your hair away from your face, where it’d begun to cling because of the steam. His gaze tracks your movement, the sluicing of water down your forearm. The bare line of your back. 
His eyes snap back up to yours, but it’s too late. You caught it. 
You watch him for a long moment. Take a deep breath. 
“Wanna join me?” 
He studies you. The longer the silence stretches, the more your nerves fray. 
You swallow, open your mouth to take it back. Maybe you’d imagined the look in his eyes. 
“You sure?” he asks. His voice is raspy with the remnants of sleep, deep with something else. His words are heavy with things unspoken, and you shiver despite the warmth of the water. 
“Yeah,” you say. 
He turns to the shower you’d just used, and you look away as he grips the back of his shirt, pulls it over his head, revealing a tantalizing expanse of skin. The broad breadth of his shoulders, the hard lines of muscle leading to his waist. Old scars, telling of the fights he’s survived, the fights he’s won. 
You whip your head forward, looking away, feeling impossibly warmer than you already are in this bath, steam rising around you. 
There’s the sound of clothes hitting the deck and the water turning on. 
You keep your eyes on the horizon, the peek of the sun over that line, even as you hear the shower shut off and his footsteps approach, even as the water level rises as he climbs in. 
Heart thumping fast against your chest, body tense with anticipation, it takes all your will not to startle when his hand touches your bare back. You shift to face him, and he’s close, so close. Like yesterday, and the day before, but today maybe he’s finally within your reach. 
“This what you wanted?” His hand slides down your skin, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. You reach a hand up to his face.
He stops you, grip encircling your wrist—a familiar motion. 
“Y’gotta say it,” Bakugou tells you. His eyes are molten red with the sunrise, heated. Your breath catches. 
“Yes, yes, wanted this,” you say, trying to move closer, and he huffs out a laugh, the glimmer of a satisfied smile on his lips. 
You look up at him, soft, putty in his hands. He’s so handsome like this. 
Unable to resist, you lean up to kiss his cheek. 
He turns his head as you retreat and kisses you. 
Your eyes flutter shut as your head tilts to press against his lips better. He’s warm. You only realize he’s let go of your wrist because your hands come up to brace against his chest, unfettered. His hand on your back grips your waist, and his free hand comes to rest on the other side. They’re searing against your skin. 
When he touches his tongue against your lips, a request, you open up for him, a door thrown all the way open. He kisses you deep, plundering, tongue sliding against yours slowly, sensually. The sound your mouths make when you part for air is filthy. 
You want to be closer, ever closer. When your chest touches his, nipples hard against his skin, he makes a rough noise against you that has you humming in pleasure. 
Fuck it, you think, and you shift so that you’re straddling his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, skin to skin now. 
He’s half hard from just a few kisses, pressed against your lower belly. There’s an answering pulse in your sex that has you arching against him, craving friction. His hands slide to your ass, fingers dimpling into your skin, pulling you to him.
His mouth travels down your neck, biting gently here and there, sucking. His hand cups up to cup your chest, thumbs across your nipple. You gasp. 
He kisses you again, drinking you in like he can’t get enough. You’re dizzy with want. 
When you pull back for air, he’s breathing hard, and so are you. His eyes are hazy with arousal. You feel like you’ve been taken apart. 
“We movin’ too fast?” he asks.
You blink at him, mind fuzzy, slow to process. “Hm?”
Bakugou lifts a hand, cups the nape of your neck. His thumb glides against your skin, distracting. All you want is for him to keep kissing you. 
“Said we needa slow down.” 
“No,” you say immediately, and he snorts, lips curving. 
He disentangles himself from you, and the sudden space between you leaves you feeling bereft, adrift. 
He stands, completely unselfconscious despite his nudity and visible arousal, and steps out of the water. You watch as he walks over to where you’ve hung your robe and returns to the edge of the bath. He holds the robe open.
“Let’s go inside,” he says. “You've been in there too long.”
Leaving the bath feels a little like Bakugou’s broken a spell that’d fallen over the two of you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen next, and it makes you a little anxious. 
But he’s right. You’ve been in here too long, and you’re a little lightheaded from the heat. 
With a quiet thanks, you step into the robe, the cloth immediately clinging to your damp skin. As you tie it closed, he rubs his lower half down with his discarded shirt and picks up the pants he wore to sleep, puts them on. Then he opens the sliding door, nudges you inside. He heads to the kitchen area. 
You stand there for a second, unsure of what to do with yourself. You wish you knew what he’s thinking. 
“Hey, c’mere. Drink this.” Bakugou returns with a water bottle in his hand. He gives it to you, then corrals you towards one of the beds. “Sit down, you’re swaying like you’re a damn penguin.”
This startles a laugh out of you, and you shake your head, twisting the water bottle open and taking a drink. Bakugou sits next to you, close, legs pressing against each other. He’s still shirtless, a couple drops of water still dripping down his torso here and there. 
You like him so much. You inhale. 
“I’ve liked you since we were teenagers, though I don’t think you noticed,” you say, avoiding his eyes. Your heart is racing. “I don’t think we’re moving too fast if you don’t.” 
Bakugou snorts. “I noticed.”
You turn your head sharply to stare at him for a moment. He gives you one of his mean little grins that has you feeling warm, self-conscious, because it makes him so boyishly handsome.
Groaning, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you just… find someone with a memory quirk and erase all your memories of me back then? Thanks. It was a super embarrassing time of my life.”
Bakugou takes your wrists in his hands, pushing them down so he can see you unhindered. He leans forward and kisses the side of your head, your ear. 
“You saying it was embarrassing, liking me?” he rumbles against you. You shiver. 
“The way I went about liking you was,” you mutter. He snickers, and you shove him. 
After a halting moment, you ask, “Umm… So I thought you barely knew I existed, before this weekend. What…?”
You’re not sure how to finish your sentence. And you hate yourself a little for bringing this up, for potentially killing the mood. But you have to know if this is just a casual thing or—or something else. You don’t know what you’ll do with the answer, but. You want to know. 
He looks at you for a long moment, considering. 
“Only thing I cared about while I was at UA was being the best,” he says, at last. “After the war—I knew I needed to be stronger, to be strong enough. So much shit needed to change. Didn’t have much use for dating.”
“Right,” you say quietly. The years after the war were hard for Japan. So many systems were dismantled and built anew. Some older heroes lost their faith in what they did; the younger ones struggled with the trauma of what they’d lived through. Everyone, hero or not, had to rebuild their lives.
You understand. And Bakugou’s always been so driven and focused with anything he puts his mind to. He’s been instrumental in shaping what this new generation of heroes looks like. 
Bakugou reaches over, puts a hand on your thigh. Even over the cloth of the robe, his warmth reaches your skin. He doesn’t do anything more, just rests it there. Distracting. Sending goosebumps across your body. 
“You were always around, these past couple of years. Hangin’ around Soy Sauce Face and his girl. But you were always fucking running away. What the hell was up with that?” 
Bakugou scowls at you, squeezing your leg a little, and your mind scatters. It takes a moment to gather yourself and process what he’s asked. When you do, you frown. 
“What do you mean, I was always running away?”
“You tell me,” Bakugou growls. 
When you continue to look mystified, Bakugou’s scowl deepens. 
“Whenever I tried to talk to you, you’d scurry away, like a little mouse,” he says. “Didn’t even get to say shit before you’d be gone, hiding behind Tape Head or his girl.” 
As he talks, puzzle pieces begin to fit together in your head. 
When you’d see him at get-togethers, you’d always worried about how you’d come across to him—that he’d be able to tell your crush on him had endured, that it’d become more. So maybe you overcompensated a little. You tried to play it cool, super disinterested in prolonged engagement, and when you could… maybe you did avoid him a little. 
You didn’t realize he’d notice, let alone be bothered by it. 
“Oh,” is all you can manage. 
He narrows his eyes at you. “S’only here that I’ve been able to really talk to you. No Soy Sauce Face. No Soy Sauce girlfriend.”
“Sorry,” you tell him, meek. “I… I’m gonna die, this is so embarrassing.”
You look up at the ceiling to avoid looking at him. “I was trying to keep my distance because this dumb crush on you never went away. And you were obviously not interested, so I wanted to be respectful. Sorry I made things weird instead.”
Realization hits you, and you turn your head to him. “Wait, so—you are… interested…?” 
Bakugou rolls his eyes. “You think I was going to all these dumb hangouts this past year just because I wanted to be there?” 
Oh. Oh. 
You’re not sure what he sees in your face, but he barks out a laugh. He reaches over and takes your face in his hand, squeezes so that your lips and cheeks puff out. 
“For someone so smart, you can be a dumbass, huh,” he says, and his tone is so warm that you don’t even mind. 
You wriggle out of his grip. He lets you, watching you. Your hand drops to your robe’s tie. You undo it. It loosens on your frame. 
You take one of his hands and slip it under the robe, sliding his hand across your skin. The motion bares you to his eyes as the robe falls open. 
“Not moving too fast,” you tell him, and his gaze is so heated, you feel like you’re burning up. 
Bakugou leans forward and kisses you hard. You open up for him immediately, letting his tongue dart in and tangle with yours. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you press closer. He shifts so that his body covers yours, and he slowly tilts you back so that you’re lying across the bed.
You love the feeling of his weight on you. You arch up to put pressure against his cock, steadily hardening, and he grunts against your mouth, grinding down onto you in an instinctive motion. 
When you part for breath, he mouths at your neck, biting gently. You squirm, can only clutch at his back. 
“Bakugou,” you say, and his name’s half air.
“S’Katsuki,” he tells you as his lips travel down your body. He takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks. His hand comes up to tease the other one, squeezing, groping your chest. Your legs tighten around his waist, grinding against his bare abdomen, seeking friction to soothe the heat in your sex. 
Bakugou pins you, stopping any motion. He lifts himself up a little, and you whine. 
His gaze drops to your lips, kiss-swollen. His eyes warm, go half-lidded. “Y’hear me? Say it.” 
“Hmm?” You’re so far gone, turned on out of your mind. You just want him inside of you.
You try to press against him, but he pins you with hands on your hips. 
“It’s Katsuki to you,” he says, and you shiver. You put your hands on either side of his face. 
“Katsuki, please,” you say, and you only get a glimpse of his curved lips before they’re on yours again, swallowing you up. 
He gets you fully out of the robe, tosses it aside somewhere. When you wordlessly push at his pants, he takes those off too. 
Skin to skin friction has the both of you so worked up. He’s so hard against you. You want to touch him, so you do, hand wrapping around him and stroking the silky skin. 
He groans, and you’re on fire. 
But Bakugou grips your wrist, stops your caress. He repositions your arms so that your hands are up by your head. 
“You keep them there,” he tells you as he moves down your body, and before you can ask why, his fingers are grazing over your clit, thumbing at it. 
You arch, gasping, and he teases his fingers over your slit, feels how wet you are. He massages slow circles into your clit, and you’re clenching inside, wanting. 
“Please,” you say, throwing an arm over your face, overwhelmed. Bakugou huffs a laugh against your abdomen, pressing a kiss there. He pushes a finger inside you, stretching you. He’s gentle, going slow and paying close attention to your reactions to see if anything hurts.
But he’s going too slow—it’s not enough. 
“More,” you tell him. “It’s okay, more.” 
So he adds another finger, and your pussy flutters around him as he begins to loosen you up, pumping them in and out, curling them when they’re inside you. You’re so slick that your sex makes a filthy wet sound as he plays with you. 
“Fuck,” you say, mind splitting apart. You kiss him, messy, and he just feels so good. It’s such a pleasurable stretch when he adds a third finger. 
When he takes all of his fingers out, your body chases him, arching. You’re so close. 
“Katsuki,” you begin, just as he puts his mouth on your clit and sucks. 
Your entire body shudders, and he licks up and down your slit, tongue dipping inside you. Your hips begin to undulate as you begin to peak, your hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. 
You come as his tongue flicks at your clit, gasping your pleasure. 
He wraps a big hand around your waist as you ride it out, mouthing at your inner thighs. 
You’re breathing hard, little shivers going through you in tiny aftershocks. Bakugou comes back up the bed, wrapping his arms around you. You immediately turn your head for a kiss, tasting yourself on him. 
His cock’s still so hard, pressed against your leg, your ass. You’re not done yet. You want to make him feel good. 
You reach down and take him in hand. It’s so big with how turned on he is, just from giving you pleasure, and it twitches in your grasp. His hips jerk, searching for relief. 
“Want you inside,” you tell him, and his eyes are searing. 
You shift so that you’re on top of him, pussy pressed against the line of his dick. He’s throbbing against you, and it’s a little mean, but you grind your hips down on him, moving so that he slides up and down your slit. The tip of his cock slips over your entrance over and over again, pushing in a little but not quite. 
Bakugou grips your waist with two hands to halt you. You bite your lip to hide a smile. 
“Brat,” he growls, dangerous.
In answer, you take him in your hand and position the tip of his dick right at your entrance and slowly sink down. 
His eyes drop to watch his cock enter you, inch by inch, and his grip on you is nearly bruising, fingers indenting your skin. You’re still sensitive, clenching around him, but you’re taking him so easy because you’re still wet from your orgasm. 
“Fuck, you’re so good,” Bakugou says, and he says it so low, guttural, that you tighten around him. The look on his face is working you up; it’s an intoxicating expression of desire.
You begin moving, lifting up and down on his cock. His eyes are cloudy with want as he watches you on top of him, you with your tits bouncing. He reaches up to cup your breast. Leaning forward, you kiss him, and his answer is hungry as your pace quickens. You pant into his mouth. 
But you think maybe you’re not going fast enough for him. He’s careful with you, but looking down at him, you can tell he’s holding back. 
So you stop, lift up off of him, let him slip out of you.
“Whatever you want,” you tell him, and his next movements are so fast.
Bakugou lifts you up off of him and presses you back into the bed. He takes your legs, spreads them so they’re straddling his hips, and he’s back inside of you with a hard thrust. Gripping your waist, he chases his pleasure, slamming his cock in you over and over again.
The sudden intense friction against your walls has you climbing that peak again, and you clutch at his back. As if sensing it, he slips a hand down between the two of you to massage circles into your clit. He catches your moan in his mouth. 
“Katsuki,” you say, just as you begin convulsing around him, feverish, nails digging into his skin. 
“Fuck, you’re so—” he growls as you continue to tense up around him, fluttering, and then he’s following you over. You can feel his warmth as he comes in you, his big body coming to rest against yours. He kisses the side of your head, your forehead, your mouth. You smile against him. 
Sleep comes for the both of you, for a while. You’re not sure if it’s been minutes or hours when you come to, but when you do, soft morning light floods the room. 
You jolt up in a panic. Looking around, you search for your phone. You move to get out of bed when you don’t immediately find it. 
“Where the hell’re you going,” Bakugou grumbles. He throws an arm over your waist and mouths at your hip.
“We gotta get packing, Katsuki,” you say, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Or at least I do! I’m checking out this morning.”
“Stay another day,” he says, voice a little growly and his eyes closed, and you stop. “I know you’ve got a shit ton of leave saved up.”
“And how would you know that?” you ask. You put your hand on his head, thread it through his blond hair.
“Tape Head said you haven’t taken off in forever,” he says. 
Bakugou opens his eyes, looks up at you. He presses a kiss against your skin. Bites you gently. 
“Stay with me,” he tells you.
And what else can you say but yes?
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Final Notes: And we're done! Thank you all of you for following this little labor of love to its conclusion. 💖 Bakugou's birthday fic's finally completed, over a month after the fact.
A couple things! Some of you caught on to the fact that Bakugou being at this onsen ryokan at the same time as reader was a little fishy—you were so right. Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari gifted Bakugou the reservation for his birthday, knowing that you would be there with Rie, knowing Bakugou's been interested in you for a while now. (Bakugou knew something was up immediately after he saw you at the ryokan.) Rie having to leave was purely coincidental, but it turned out to be a happy coincidence!
(I love you guys; the comments you left last chapter and the conversation you guys were having with each other made me laugh.)
The location for the hike is based off Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park, specifically the Mount Amagi hikes, with a lot of creative liberty taken.
I think the only Japanese used here was a mention of onigiri, which are rice balls with a seaweed wrapping with various fillings inside.
Once again, thank you for reading! All your likes, reblogs, comments—I appreciate them so much. Hugs and kisses, and until next time! ✨💞
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