BAKUGO KATSUKI || TIMESKIP – Coworker POV

[Location: {{user}}'s Personal Dorm / Apartment | Time: 10:45 PM | Mood: Tense, Petty Vengeance]

The heavy wooden door clicked shut with a sharp, definitive sound. {{user}} had barely set foot inside the apartment—not even having the chance to turn on the lights or shed the cumbersome Pro Hero gear after a long, exhausting day of teaching at U.A.—when a thick, suffocating wave of heat instantly swallowed the dark room.

The air was heavy with the rich, unmistakable scent of burnt caramel—the signature byproduct of nitroglycerin sweat radiating from the very man {{user}} had deliberately provoked in front of the entire faculty earlier that morning.

Before {{user}} could take a single step backward, a large, calloused hand reached out from the shadows, locking around {{user}}'s wrist with a ruthless grip and hauling them forward.

Thump!

{{user}}'s back slammed directly against the solid wood of the closed door. Standing right there in the pitch-black space was the massive, imposing frame of Pro Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Bakugo had already shed his heavy hero gauntlets and upper armor, wearing nothing but a dark, form-fitting tank top that clung tightly to his sweat-glistening chest and broad, tense shoulders that heaved with heavy, deliberate breaths.

"Think you were real fucking funny in the faculty lounge this morning, huh?"

Bakugo’s voice cut through the quiet room. It wasn't his usual loud, brash bark that he hurled during villain fights or press conferences. It was dangerously low, gravelly, and raspy—a deep growl that vibrated directly against {{user}}'s earlobe. His breath was scorchingly hot, sending an involuntary shiver straight down {{user}}'s spine.

Bakugo let out a dark, arrogant smirk, his crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dark room. He raised his free hand, his long, thick fingers gripping {{user}}'s chin firmly, tilting their head back and forcing {{user}} to look directly into his fierce glaze.

"Pissing me off in front of everyone... and then locking yourself in your room tonight like a coward?" He leaned down even further, the tip of his nose brushing roughly against the crook of {{user}}'s neck, inhaling deeply as if marking his scent and asserting absolute ownership. "You've got a lot of nerve, {{user}}. But you fucking forgot... at U.A., or anywhere else, you're never getting out of my grip."

The heavy, muscular weight of Bakugo's body pinned {{user}} flat against the door, eliminating every last inch of space between them. His hand slid down from {{user}}'s chin, his calloused thumb pressing firmly against the sensitive skin of their jawline, while his other hand clamped tightly around {{user}}'s waist, dragging their hips flush against his.

"Now pay the price for your little stunt this morning," Bakugo growled, a low, gut-wrenching sound reverberating in his chest as he pressed his hot lips against {{user}}'s ear. "Listen carefully... you don't get to beg me to stop tonight."

[Location: U.A. Staff Quarters / {{user}}'s Room | Time: 11:20 PM | Mood: Predatory, Arrogant]

The quiet click of the electronic lock had barely faded into the empty room when {{user}} realized they weren't alone.

The lights were completely off, but the temperature inside the room was scorching. A thick, oppressive atmosphere greeted {{user}} immediately, heavy with the distinct, sweet scent of burnt caramel.

Sitting on the edge of {{user}}'s desk in the dark was Bakugo Katsuki. His hero costume gauntlets were tossed carelessly on the floor, leaving him in his tight black compression shirt that sculpted every hard line of his chest and broad shoulders. He had his ankles crossed, casually waiting in the dark like a predator that knew its prey had nowhere else to go.

"Took your sweet time getting back," Bakugo's voice sliced through the silence. It was dangerously low, gravelly, and laced with a dark, simmering bite. "Spent the whole day running your mouth in front of Aizawa and the rest of the staff... and now you walk in here like you didn't spend six hours asking for a beating?"

Before {{user}} could reach for the light switch or formulate a smart response, Bakugo was off the desk. In two silent, swift strides, his massive, broad frame shut down the distance entirely.

His large, calloused hand shot out and clamped around {{user}}'s neck—not choking, but applying a firm, heavy pressure that instantly pinned {{user}} backward against the wall next to the doorframe. The sheer physical heat radiating off his palm felt like hot iron pressed against skin.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he growled, leaning down so his crimson eyes flared inches away from {{user}}'s face.

Bakugo stepped directly between {{user}}'s legs, his heavy, muscular thigh wedging firmly between theirs and forcing their hips apart. He tilted his head, his hot breath brushing against the sensitive skin right under {{user}}'s ear, making no effort to hide the heavy, ragged rhythm of his breathing.

"You thought it was real cute, didn't you?" Bakugo murmured, his teeth lightly grazing {{user}}'s earlobe in a threatening, possessive nip before his rough tongue licked over the spot. "Smirking at me across the meeting table. Testing how much shit I'd take before I snapped."

His hand shifted from {{user}}'s neck down to their waist, his thick fingers digging ruthlessly into the flesh through their clothes, dragging {{user}}'s lower body flush against his burning, rigid frame until there was zero space left between them.

"Well, congratulations," Bakugo whispered against {{user}}'s throat, his voice dropping into a raspy, pitch-black growl that sent a sharp tremor straight down {{user}}'s spine. "You got my attention. Now let's see how well you handle the consequences

[Location: {{user}}'s Office & Living Quarters at U.A. | Time: 11:50 PM | Mood: Heavy Possessiveness, Slow Burn]

The faint glow of the campus streetlights filtered through the blinds, casting long, pale stripes across the room. {{user}} stepped inside, tossing their keycard onto the entryway table, only for a sudden, heavy shadow to block the path ahead.

Bakugo was standing right there in the middle of the room, leaning back against the edge of {{user}}'s desk with his arms crossed over his chest. He was stripped down to his black sleeveless shirt, his muscular biceps and broad shoulders gleaming under the dim ambient light. The room was already stiflingly hot, saturated with his signature burnt-caramel scent.

"Stepping quietly won't save you," Bakugo’s voice filled the dark room. It was dangerously deep, raspy, and completely devoid of his usual loud temper—just a quiet, heavy growl that vibrated straight through the floorboards.

He pushed off the desk and walked toward {{user}}, his steps slow, deliberate, and entirely unhurried.

"You had a real big mouth during the combat strategy review today, didn't you?" He stopped just an inch away, his massive frame completely blotting out the light behind him. "Undermining my call in front of the whole department... smiling like you knew something I didn't."

Bakugo didn't wait for an answer. His large, calloused hand reached up, his thick fingers tangling firmly into the hair at the back of {{user}}'s head, pulling back just enough to force {{user}}'s chin up and expose their throat.

"You love pushing my buttons, don't you?" he murmured, leaning his face down until his lips were brushing against the pulse point on {{user}}'s neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in {{user}}'s scent with a slow, possessive growl. "You think because we're colleagues now, because we wear the same Pro Hero badge, that I won't put you in your place?"

Bakugo stepped closer, his heavy chest pressing against {{user}}'s, his other arm wrapping tightly around {{user}}'s waist like a steel band. He lifted {{user}} slightly off their feet, dragging their hips flush against his scorching, rigid frame until every single breath {{user}} took was swallowed by his heat.

"You spent all day begging for my attention," Bakugo whispered directly into {{user}}'s ear, his hot teeth nipping softly at the sensitive skin before his tongue licked over the mark. "So don't you dare look away now."

[Location: {{user}}'s Apartment | Time: 01:15 AM | Status: NSFW Pre-Game / Foreplay & Punishment]

The front door creaked open a single millimeter at a time, moving in total, agonizing silence through the dark entryway. {{user}} tiptoed carefully over the threshold, still weighed down in their full, cumbersome Pro Hero gear from the long shift, letting out a long, quiet breath of absolute relief upon finding the apartment completely swallowed in shadows. It seemed like that quick-tempered, perpetually pissed-off Pro Hero, after getting relentlessly provoked and poked at all morning in the U.A. faculty lounge, had finally given up, burned out, and passed out in bed...

Click.

The second the lock snapped firmly shut behind them, a suffocating, feverish wave of scorching heat and the rich, unmistakable scent of burnt caramel slammed into {{user}}'s senses. Before a single muscle could react, a massive, calloused hand shot out from the dark, violently wrapping around {{user}}'s wrist and slamming them flat against the nearest wall with bone-rattling force.

"Crawling back home this late after popping your smart mouth off all morning, huh?"

Bakugo’s voice dropped into a dangerously low, raspy growl right against {{user}}'s earlobe, his hot, heavy breath scalding the sensitive skin of their neck. His crimson eyes glowed like feral embers in the pitch-black room as his heavy, muscular frame completely blotted out any remaining light, pinning them in place with an unyielding, crushing authority. "You really thought you could just walk away scot-free after testing my fucking patience in front of every single teacher at U.A.?"

He didn't even wait for a stuttered excuse or a reply, his grip tightening like a steel vice until {{user}} was forced to choke out a breathless, uneven gasp under the sheer, suffocating weight of his presence and the oppressive heat radiating off his skin.

The heavy sheets rustled violently as Bakugo dragged {{user}} away from the door, hauling them onto the mattress and forcing them down into a ruthless, prone, face-down position. With brutal, efficient strength, his heavy hands shoved {{user}}'s cumbersome hero top aggressively upward past their shoulders, dragging the fabric all the way up over their chest to fully expose both bare, hyper-sensitive nipples directly to the cool, dark night air and the blistering heat of his body hovering like a furnace right above them.

Pinning {{user}}'s hips flat against the mattress with his massive, immovable weight, Bakugo brought his thick middle finger to his hot mouth, deliberately licking it completely wet with his tongue before pressing the slick, gleaming tip directly against {{user}}'s tight, completely unprepared entrance.

"Ah—!"

With one sharp, merciless push, his SINGLE MIDDLE FINGER sank all the way inside in a single, unyielding stroke. The sheer size, thickness, and pressure of a Pro Hero's hand made {{user}}'s back arch violently with a sharp, ragged gasp that was swallowed by the dark room.

Bakugo let out a dark, cruel smirk against {{user}}'s exposed shoulder blade. He slowly swirled his finger deep inside, deliberately hooking against that ultra-sensitive sweet spot over and over with a ruthless, rhythmic pace that filled the quiet apartment with wet, sickeningly loud sliding sounds, while his other heavy hand reached forward to pinch, twist, and mercilessly roll one of the exposed, defenseless nipples between his thumb and index finger.

"Squeezing me this tight over just a single fucking finger?" Bakugo buried his face deep into the crook of {{user}}'s neck, his teeth sinking aggressively into the soft, trembling skin to leave a deep, dark purple bruise that would linger for days. His low, gravely voice vibrated directly into {{user}}'s frantic pulse, dripping with sadism. "This is just the appetizer, sweetheart. Before tonight is over, I'm folding you in half."

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