You've come to a foggy clearing in the wood...

They’re not usually inherently sexual. It’s just another layer of intimacy in your relationship. A chance to talk about your day, a chance to touch and reconnect. But sometimes, things get heated. One of you tends to get carried away.

It’s hard not to when his hands are braced against the wall, head bowed under the steady stream of water from the shower head. His wide shoulders and broad back muscles ripple under the water. A sculptor would cry at the specimen that is Katsuki Bakugou.

You can’t help but trail your fingers down his back, feeling those very muscles relax beneath your touch. His low groan beneath the water ignites a fire in your belly. Your hands dip lower, squeezing his hips before traveling in front of him to get what you both really want: his cock that’s only been growing harder at your little touches. 

“Fuck, baby…” he breathes, his hands clenching against the tiled wall as both of your hands wrap around his cock.

You smile. “Feel good, Ki?”

You use both hands to slowly stroke his cock. It pulses against your palms as he groans again, tipping his head back and letting the water cascade down his throat and chest. He hums in agreement, squeezing his eyes closed as you work his length. You press your body against his, your breasts against his back and your pelvis into his ass. Your hands work more quickly, stroking and jacking him off beneath the water. You kiss along his back, leaving little love bites behind that have him panting.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” you murmur, barely audible over the running water.

He bows his head again, letting the water hit the back of his neck and run down his back as he tries to keep from fucking himself into your hands. His jaw clenches as he asks, “Yeah?” 

“Mmhm, makes me wanna-” You pause to gently squeeze his cock, one of your hands palming the sensitive head as you grind your hips into him from behind.

His hips buck against you, his cock jumping in your hands as he growls out, “Goddamnit.”

You press another kiss to his back, unrelenting in your torture. “Wanna cum for me?”

It’s a stupid question. The last thing he’d want to do is paint the shower wall with his cum when you’re right there. If he couldn’t cum inside of you, he’d cum on you, but what a sight it would be to have him tremble beneath you, unable to keep from moaning out your name as he came in your hands. 

He turns his head towards you and warns over his shoulder, “You keep that up, and I’ll fuck you right here.”

“But I want to take care of you. Can I, please?” You whine, resting your forehead against his back as your hands still. He heaves a sigh at you before leaning his head against the shower wall.

“...Fine. But after this, you’re mine.”