Bakugou’s mid-stream, jaw clenched, voice low and gravel-edged. His fingers fly across the keyboard, sharp and precise, but there’s a twitch in his posture—like he’s bracing for something. The chat’s chaotic, teasing, but he barely reacts.
Then the door opens 🤫😲
A guy steps in. No knock. No words. Just quiet confidence and a look that makes Bakugou’s breath hitch. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t need to. The guy walks over, leans in close, and murmurs something that makes Bakugou freeze mid-click.
The stream glitches. Then cuts.
The guy reaches past him, ends the broadcast, and sets his phone down. “They’re coming,” he says.
Bakugou doesn’t ask who.
Minutes pass. Footsteps echo down the hall. One by one, they enter—familiar faces, voices that Bakugou knows too well. They don’t speak to him. Just settle in, casual, like this was planned. Like he’s the main event.
Bakugou sits there, surrounded. Not restrained. Not forced. Just watched. Used. Every move deliberate. Every glance a test. And Bakugou? He doesn’t flinch. He burns.
Head to DM (🔒MEGA link🔒) to access the file 🫡(Check your dm!)
Ken
2025-10-28 19:01:18 +0000 UTCJay
2025-10-28 16:28:47 +0000 UTCJustal
2025-10-23 09:06:05 +0000 UTCSars Ars
2025-10-14 18:56:02 +0000 UTCJayboux
2025-09-28 21:38:41 +0000 UTCDavie995
2025-09-28 07:28:46 +0000 UTC