kiranogareru

[kiranogareru]

So anyway then I baby trapped him

[kiranogareru]

This! And for the love of whatever yall believe in, the fact that characters can be written with certain flaws or commit certain actions does not mean the writer endorses/supports/promotes them in real life

i think some of you dont like narratives or stories or characters i think you just like fanfiction tropes

[kiranogareru]

He's so effortlessly breathtaking

Bakugou Katsuki ➤ Vol. 40 back cover

[kiranogareru]

❤️

Shout out to all the Black ppl that can no longer participate directly in the fandom they love because of the stresses of racism 👍🏾 you contain multitudes of value and I'm sorry that the color of your skin and the power of your voice makes people not want to acknowledge that.

[kiranogareru]

I cannot stop thinking about this tweet I'm sorry

[kiranogareru]

it's okay if you're not on a rec list

it's okay if you don't have 1000 followers

it's okay if you haven't written as much as you wanted to this year

it's okay if you doubt yourself

it's okay to want more attention

it's okay if you're too shy to share your work

you are valued. you are here. you are important.

there's at least one person out there who recognizes you and looks forward to what you have to say.

you belong.

[kiranogareru]

Bakugou "Why do I hear boss music" Katsuki😌

Katsuki Bakugo!!

AFO😒🥱……

The Final Boss!!….

[kiranogareru]

Bakugou would for sure leave a sober voicemail! He wants you to know that he means what he's saying and that he is putting in effort! He sounds mature and responsible. He wants to work things out.

Zoro would be be drunk as fuck, saying things that he'd be too embarrassed to talk about or admit while sober! He acts on impulse and instinct. He regrets the fight.

Which of your faves leaves you a sober apologetic voicemail after a big fight and which one leaves a drunk one?

[kiranogareru]

How does he always look so fucking good😩🤤😍

He's got me feeling feelings and shit

Fuck him and his sexy ass self! Fuck his handsome face!

Like who does he think he is? A fucking god? Coz yes, yes he is and he knows it

[kiranogareru]

Til he breaks my mind

Til he throws out my spine

Til I'm made in his shape

Til I'm drowning in cum

Made to be his

Meant to be broken

To me I'd let him do things unspoken

Amen🙏

When men lay their cock on your tummy and go “You’re gonna feel me here.” as they push down on your tummy.

Bakugou lays his cock on your tummy and goes “You’re gonna feel me here.” as he wraps his palm around your throat.

[kiranogareru]

MERIGOLD GLORY ┊ BAKUGO KATSUKI

tags: FEM reader (referred to as wife + your grace), fantasy au, dragon king bakugo, arranged marriage/marriage of convenience, miscommunication (resolved!!), implied loss of virginity, very suggestive, hurt/comfort, readers home country SUCKED (misogyny + sexism mentioned)

wc: 2.9k

In truth, you should not be anywhere near the dragon pit.

You have only ever seen the beasts from afar, kept behind the protection of your husband's most trusted guards; folk adorned in durable leather and shedded scale, while your own body need only be wrapped in silks.

Since your wedding night all those weeks ago, that is all that has touched your skin — silk. Drapes of it, trains of sleeve and cape, embroidered with delicate fauna and feathers. When walking amongst men and women layered with armour and weaponry, you only felt othered.

Being betrothed to the Dragon King, Bakugo Katsuki, had not been of your choosing.

Still, you sought knowledge of the country you were to live in. Read of their culture, learned of their languages. It was a diverse and fascinating place, regardless of the godly creatures it allied with. Much unlike the traditional rules of your own home, anyone could be anything if they so wished. The countrymen were personable, hearty and loud in their cheers as the marriage was announced. Lacking was the stiff lip and rigidity you’d grown up with. You’d been excited.

But your husband had not. Infact, Katsuki spent the entirety of the reception visibly displeased. This was not of his choosing either, and having been raised in a society built on crafting your own destiny, you truly couldn’t blame him for feeling robbed.

At the beginning you had no complaints. In many ways you thought you’d been freed. And he was undoubtedly handsome — otherworldly, even. A broad chest painted in striking patterns of black, highlighting the scars he had won during the war. His shoulders were thick, like his arms, and covered by a grand red cape lined in fur that settled in the earth beneath his feet. His expression had been piercing, and you recall just how insecure you felt under his scrutiny. Eyes alight. The longer you looked the more you saw the flames dancing in his irises.

You’d been taught to expect aggression, and to practice submission. Sex was duty. But on the night of your wedding he had touched you in ways you could not have imagined, and even now you can feel the hot impression of his fingers at your waist. Amidst the bliss you’d forgotten that his hands could conjure fire. Katsuki had shaped your flesh around him, burrowed into you as if he was made to find home there. Lay aside — the kissing is what bewitched you. The careful manner in which he cradled your face, plucking his name from your mouth.

“My name,” he’d said. “Don’t fuckin��� call me ‘your highness’ or ‘my king’ in our marriage bed”.

When coiled so tightly beneath him, it was as if his weight was the only thing holding your seams together. You felt your body fall apart under his touch three times that night; three times more than you’d expected.

But the next morning, his side of the bed had been cold. He’d left early and without goodbye. Whenever your paths crossed he did treat you warmly, in his own way, but he deigned to show you any other part of his life. You were not to sit in on his councils, you were not to see his dragons, you were not to be without consort. You were a wife of obligation to be kept in the far wing of the castle, safe and ignorant.

At first it didn’t bother you. This was exactly as you’d been taught, and more than anything you felt shamefully naive for thinking it would be any different here.

His ambassador and closest confidant, Midoriya Izuku, had attempted to assuage you only once. It must’ve shown on your face. “Kacchan is just difficult,” the smile he gave you was sincere, but a little sad. “It’s best not to make assumptions. Rarely is he thinking the way you’d expect him to”.

In the weeks that passed your efforts were fruitless. Every day saw new people of different ilk pass through the grounds. The sights and sounds toiled away at your envy until it spread through your chest like flame to dry crop. You could understand the shackles placed upon you if you were not in a country that prided itself on freedom.

Thus, in a fleeting fit of rebellion you had crept from your chambers and made haste to the pit. In avoidance of the guards stationed by your door, you had hooked each leg over the ledge of your balcony and lowered yourself into the gardens.

Your skin frissons in the tepid air, cloaked in only a nightgown that falls above your ankles. The moon bursts forth through the twilight, your silhouette solid and clear beneath pale thin fabric. A stern voice in the back of your head scolds that to be seen so scantily clad by anyone other than your husband would be more than inappropriate, but you close your ears to it before it can dissuade you.

Surely the dragons wouldn’t care to look at your breasts.

There is no way to get lost in your search. The pit is a grand structure beside the castle, almost rivalling it in size and width. Excitement stirs in your belly. Your first true act of disobedience. At most, you would be caught by the dragon keepers guarding the entrance and taken to your majesty, but that alone would be enough to satiate your pettiness.

What surprises you is that the keepers do not bat an eyelid. “Your Grace,” both men bow courteously, offering amiable welcome. “Would you like to see Endraen?”

Endraen. You knew her to be Katsuki’s dragon; she has been at his side since he was a babe.

“If you’d be so kind,” you resist the urge to bow back to them. That was no longer required of you. Instead you fold each arm across your chest, a subtle attempt at maintaining your modesty, and you follow one of them in.

The entrance itself is a large, gaping opening, like the mouth of the cave. It dwarfed you. You willingly enter the maw, led down the throat into the belly, lit only by the flickering torches either side of the hallway.

It’s colossal. Seemingly bigger on the inside than it is on the out. You wonder if there’s any magic in play — it certainly feels like it. The air is heavy here; there is a distinct metallic taste in your mouth when you inhale. At the end of the tunnel is something much brighter, a glaring light that floods across the earth beneath your feet.

You realise it is the moon, and this is where the earth ends.

The keeper motions for you to halt, stopping right before the drop. It is quite literally a dragon's pit. You are unable to see its depth, but judging by the soft echo of movement far below, it is considerably deep. Scattered throughout are shelves, pillars and platforms that look to have been naturally formed in rock, and above, the roof opens wide to the night and invites her in.

At your side, the keeper whistles. It ricochets in your chest. You hear a rumbling groan from afar, and then a startling gust of wind that almost knocks you backwards. A large, serpentine shadow skirts across your vision before curling back to the pillar closest to where you waited.

You hold your breath. The ground vibrates as Endraen settles, readjusting her footing with an eldritch rasp of complaint. You must’ve woken her. Wings outstretched, the moon passes through her flesh like stained glass. She is terrifying, kingly, yet there’s a grace about her as she appraises you.

“She well suits his Highness,” you murmur. The keeper hums.

“I’ll leave you to be acquainted”.

There is no time to object. Despite the distance between the opening and the perch, a simple stretch of Endraen’s neck sees her horned snout a hair's breadth from your face. Your nightgown shifts as she exhales, the heat clinging to your skin.

“Hello,” you offer lamely. Your voice is shaken, and you wonder if she hears you. If she understands you. Katsuki has ridden her across the lands before, so you had seen all her merigold glory from your bedchamber window, but never this close. You had never seen such joy on Katsuki’s face again, either.

In your lands, people feared the dragons. Mythicised them as callous beasts that wrought fury upon the innocent. You’d heard such tales about your husband, long before the treaty had been put into place. Bakugo Katsuki, the barbaric Dragon King. He sets torch to anyone that defies him with his own hands, steals riches from his own citizens to hoard in his castle, bellows indiscriminately at his subjects and beds man or woman whenever he pleases.

A beast in his own right, they���d said. But just like the dragons, you came to realise your people vilified Katsuki’s freedom. This lands freedom. Which was for all but you.

Endraen huffs. Her head has slightly turned as if to get a better look at you. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now,” you tell her. As she blinks, you watch the milky second lids pass over her eye, then the first. Her pupils dilate and retract, pulsing when they open again. Even her breathing is loud, shifting the loose rock around you.

“You’re more beautiful up close. Scarier, too,” it’s silly, but you straighten out your nightgown in the conscious effort to make a good impression. “I’ve seen you gliding over the mountains from my window. Like a kite without strings”.

She grunts and the breeze warms you once more. “His Maj— Katsuki talks very highly of you. He loves you. I think in some ways you might know him better than anyone,” your voice fractures as you speak, and the smile pulled across your cheeks weakens.

“I wish he’d let me in. Do you think—!” suddenly you are met with two arms full of dragon. Endraen leans forward, tucking the end of her snout against your chest. You are comically small, barely taller than her largest tooth, and the force of it has you stumbling further back.

She is hot to the touch, much like Katsuki had been. With the way she is attempting to nuzzle you, unaware of her own strength, it wouldn’t be far fetched to assume this was an attempt at comfort. The thought makes you laugh, and you run your hand across the length of her scales.

“Thank you,” you tell her. A pitched, distorted sound rumbles in her throat and vibrates under your palms. If dragons could purr, this might be it.

“She likes you”.

The unexpected echo of Katsuki’s voice startles you away from the creature, and the rumble deepens in displeasure. He’s closer than you anticipate, night coat draped over his bare shoulders, stepping forward to rest his enclosed fist against Endraen’s lower lip.

You swallow the swell in your throat as his eyes sweep over your state of undress. “C’mere,” he grunts, holding his hand out for you to take. There’s an awkward expression on his face that is almost… shy.

At first, you accept it delicately. But unhappy with this, Katsuki readjusts his grip until your fingers are interwoven. His palm is searing where it kisses your own. With this, he pulls you into his side.

“You can still touch her,” and you do, pressing your free hand to her skin, right beside his own. “Mind tellin’ me what you’re doing out here?”

The keeper at the entrance must’ve sent for him. “I apologise if I’ve angered you”.

His nose wrinkles, like your apology left a bitterness on his tongue. “M’not angry. You’re my wife, so you are permitted to come and go as you please”.

Influenced by your fleeting irritation, you mutter accusingly, “Am I?”

The regret is immediate and his grip tightens, skin warming. He continues to aimlessly pet along the scales of his dragon as he stares at you. The specks of moonlight filling the alcove refract in his eyes, smouldering. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

A dragon in his own right, you recall. There is a spark of fear in your gut in anticipation of what might befall you as a consequence of this. But if there is one thing you knew about your husband — and there is little — it’s that he values honesty.

“What I mean is I am the only one in this kingdom that is shackled,” you quietly argued. “Even your dragons are able to roam freely while I am hidden away in my quarters”.

A litany of emotions pass over Katsuki’s face as you speak. Disbelief, anger, confusion, regret. “I have never told you to squirrel yourself away in your bedchamber,” he replies through gritted teeth.

“No one has told me otherwise, either!”

Endraen watches the exchange closely, and as you avoid his gaze there’s a clear intelligence in hers that both comforts and unsettles you. Before Katsuki is able to counter your point, she pushes forward minutely into you both, just enough to unsteady you.

Katsuki is quick to unlatch your hands, now wrapping the arm around your waist and embracing you to keep you upright. It is unbearably hot. You splay your fingers over his bare chest, tracing the smooth, raised skin of his scars, and a familiar feeling strums at your centre.

Seconds turn to minutes, and the silence stretches thin. The dragon rumbles again, now pleased by your proximity. Instinctively, you know she pushed you on purpose.

“You know my home to be a place of subjugation and cruelty. So you must at least have some knowledge of how I was raised,” you rasp, resisting the urge to curl into him. To tilt your chin and kiss him, despite your frustration. “You do not seek me out, or ask anything of me. You give me no duties. You left and never returned to our marriage bed”.

Katsuki’s thumb massages gentle circles into the small of your back, and he dips forward to embrace you. Next he speaks, it is beside your ear. “You didn’t choose this, it was forced upon you for the sake of your country. I was just—” he sighs, and you shiver against the warm breath. “Fuck. I’m no good at this”.

The slight petulance in his voice makes you laugh, but you’re quick to bite down on it. When you do, he hooks his fingers beneath your chin and forces you to look at him. You haven’t been this close since he bedded you, and the memory burns at the surface of your skin. All that separates your bodies is a thin nightgown.

“Don’t fuckin’ do that. I want to hear you,” his hand then slips further to cradle your jaw. Let me hear you, he’d groaned into your mouth. Beautiful. Beautiful. “Is that what you were doing this whole time? Repressing yourself like this?”

The reality of it chips away at you, and you try not to shatter in his grasp. “I’m not a person, I’m a wife,” you recite bitterly with a half hearted smile. His arm tightens around your back, and he presses your foreheads together meaningfully.

“Bullshit. I should burn your shitty family’s castle to the ground,” he mutters, stroking over the swell of your cheek. His words ghost over your lips. “I didn’t want you to feel any obligation. I wanted you to come to me, to choose me of your own will”.

Your nose bumps against his, and you both tilt slightly, lingering there. He’s strikingly handsome under the moonlight, a lily white crown forming around his head. “When you didn’t come back that night or the next, I thought…”

His eyes fall closed as he huffs, the small shadows of his lashes cast over his cheeks. You wait with bated breath. When he meets your gaze again, searing red, half lidded and avowing, there’s only tenderness.

“I’ve been a piss poor husband thus far,” he addresses you softly. “Deku was right. I should’a talked to you sooner”.

Deku… Izuku. “It’s best not to make assumptions. Rarely is he thinking the way you’d expect him to”. Thinking back on it now, you could have heeded his advice. Katsuki had always been receptive when approached, the issue had been that you felt you were unwanted. Unneeded. Something forced upon him that he didn’t want to look at.

You smile, assuaged by his regret. “If I forgave my piss poor husband, do you think he would join me in bed tonight?”

His sharp inhale is loud in your ears. You are so transfixed on him, on the dilation of his pupils, the sudden tang of magic in the air and the ever growing heat seeping through your nightgown, that you forget the scaled creature watching over you both.

And then he grins, wide and victorious. Katsuki thuds his hands twice against Endraen’s snout and she grunts, her mountainous footsteps trembling through the earth as she retreats. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I think he would”.

[kiranogareru]

"M-More." You plead as Bakugou fucks into you with harsh slow ruts.

He roughly covers your mouth with his hot palm, stilling his hips as he comes closer to your face. Glaring at you, taking in your fucked out expression, the sweat making your hair stick to your skin and the pearly tears clinging to long lashes. It's insane how he doesn't even look fazed, as if your tight cunt squeezing and pulling him back in with each rut feels no better than his fist. It makes your eyes flutter with embarrassment and shame.

"Cock sleeves don't talk." He growls and when you don't respond he lets his fingers harshly tap against your cheek, "Oi, nod if you understand."

You give a frantic nod, his hand still covering your mouth before he moves his hips. Letting his swollen cock head hit against the pulsing spongy spot in your dripping pussy.

Silently arching your back as you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning.

But it's like a game to him and he ruts over it slower and harsher until you're hot to the touch, your eyes rolled back from how good he edges you and tears you. Waiting to capture the smallest moan with his hand before he speeds up his pace.

Pounding into you until the humidity of your panting collects on his palm, still echoing around the room before he moves his burning palm to your throat.

"Can't make a sound if ya can't fuckin breathe, yea?" He gives a cruel barking laugh before he squeezes just enough that your once loud moans can only be rasped breaths.

Secretly he loves the sounds you make but that's the problem. It's hard enough for him to fuck you were he can see your pretty face contorting in pleasure that his cock brings out but the sounds. God the sounds is what makes his heart beat faster, what makes his composure slip each time you try to keep your eyes on his while you cum, begging him for more like he wasn't already fucking you brain dead.

He watches himself disappear into you, watches the creamy ring at the base of his cock grow thicker and his sac wetter from your arousal. The resounding slap echoing in your apartment competing with the snap of the head board as he comes closer to you as your back arches and a silent scream rips up your throat. Convulsing around his thick length as he fucks you through yet another orgasm.

"That's it, cream my cock, let's see this slutty pussy try to milk me." He says as pulls out only for your cunt to suction him back in, leaking around him and down to your ass. He wants to pound into you untill all you can do is take it before pulling out and fisting his cock so he blows his fat load all over your pretty stomach and tits. If he's lucky he'll cum hard enough it'll hit your chin and lips again.

But tonight is different as he applies more pressure to your throat, watching you fade in and out as your claws bite into his forearms, shaking for him as if he brought you so much pleasure your body simply couldn't process it. He has to see more, needs to see more despite the coil in his stomach tightening in time with his sac.

He should pull out but when he glances up at your face, hoping to see your tongue lulling out of your mouth with a string of drool he watches your lips form something instead while your eyes roll into your head.

I love you.

And Bakugou Katsuki cums, hard. Grunting and growling as his cock spills his hot seed into your pretty pussy. Still rocking his hips as he lets up on your throat to hear your hoarse sounds, obvious now that you don't even know what you were saying when you can barely form his name as he overstimulates himself. Groaning as his sensitive tip slides through your velvet warmth until he can't take it anymore.

Collapsing on top of you like he's never done before. You two were just fuck buddies, you remind yourself that when he presses his face into your throat, gently kissing at your pulse point.

"Was I a good cock sleeve?" Barely a whisper as you struggle to catch your breath. He bites in answer, scraping his teeth along your throat as he sucks, pulling the skin from your body until he lets it go. Grabbing your chin so roughly forcing you to look at him as if you could look anyway but the man right above you, his necklace swinging in your face.

"The best."

@medusashima sorz babes I couldn't stop thinking about it what I put in your inbox. Katsuki Cock sleeves don't talk Bakugou

[kiranogareru]

This isn't directed at the anon (it's for anyone that bitches when they see a poc Y/n). This just gave me the chance to bring something that annoys me up because I've been seeing this a little too much lately!

"Why do you have to specify Y/n as black?" Funny, considering what 95% (if not more) of fan fiction is like

So I see your question and raise you this: Is there any reason why soooo many fics across the board have to be like "on her fair skin" or "her pale skin this" and "her porcelain skin that"??

First, by that logic, why does anyone write anything the way that they personally imagine it?

And second, why do so many people feel the need to point out stuff like this and question it, as soon as someone writes about any person of colour with their favourite characters?

Yall don't dictate what people can write and how they write it!

Ya wanna relate to the fics you read or whatever? Well, so do other people! And when they can't find that, they write it themselves!

And to anyone that might feel the need to be like "but why don't they make it neutral then" or anything along those lines

Why should they? To appease you and whatever internalized or even fully externalized racist shit ya got going on?

If black Y/n is what they want to write, then that's that! And if it bothers you, first of all it fucking shouldn't and second, their writing is not the problem, you are!

It's simple, really

That's all, just needed to get this out

Also @sanjisblackasswife I only found your blog recently, but I am in love

Hey girly I have a questioonn.. this is a genuine question and mean no hate but when writing, why do you have to specify y/n as black? It doesnt change anything?? Or does it and i just dont see it? Im so so sorry but im genuinely curious 😭

yall gatta stop w this “hey girlie” shit.

ANYWAYS

Um why not?

I mostly put black fem reader IN MIND anyways.

its a small but meaningful detail to some so why not put it, plus most of the time i describe the reader as a black female.

Same reason for my user

i can be just SanjisWife but no

im specifying something

im his BLACK ASS wife.

[kiranogareru]

[kiranogareru]

Love this! He would stupidly assume that you're not already head-over-heels for his ass too.

Meanwhile, you're out here secretly worshipping his existence, trying to approach him, but he always kinda avoids you because he's not sure what to say!

The one time he gets you alone, he cracks the cheesiest line and you stand there confused.

That's not the blonde grenade talking and you are so sure of that fact, because since when does he ever speak like that?

But hey, at least now you know he likes you.

He definitely goes after poor Denki, who was only trying to help.

Bakugou may think he stands no chance, but now you know for a fact that you can take your chance.

Since he stepped out of his comfort zone for you, you figured you could do something that would be a little more in his element!

The next time you see him, you ask if he'd like to spar with you some time

And basically, your first date is a sparring session

I know this isn't that great of a thought, and I couldn't even articulate it the way I wanted to, but I'm sharing it regardless. Also, this is kinda the reason I don't usually add my ideas to posts like this, but I felt like it today, so I had to make it everybody's problem

I love the thought of Bakugou having the fattest crush on you and being so desperate to talk to you that he actually takes advice from Denki and uses a cringe pick-up line on you that obviously doesn’t work and he gets so mad about it because he thinks he’s ruined his chances🥺😭

[kiranogareru]

NEVER GOT A CHANCE

"Katsu, hey! I've been meaning to visit, but a lot is happening these days and..well- never mind! That's not important right now, what I mean to say is, I've missed you" Y/n, spoke softly and with somewhat of an unsure tone

There was no reply, only a thick veil of silence draped over them!

It made Y/n second-guess their words and even their presence, all the more.

'Maybe I should have stayed at home today after all' They pondered, a heavy sigh escaping their lungs

"I'm probably gonna have to get used to this huh?" They smiled faintly, not really expecting an answer, their question was rather rhetorical

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to ease the anxious feeling bubbling inside of their chest!

"Oi Katsuki...Listen, I know all this Valentine's shit is not really your thing, but I've brought you something" Y/n presented a box, along with a bouquet of flowers

Even though they couldn't see his face, they were sure that his interest would be piqued by the gifts and the unusual gesture

"It's your favourite" They placed the box on the cold, marble surface, a piece of sickeningly sweet-smelling cake sitting inside it

The bouquet of brightly coloured flowers, resting, not too far from the pastry box!

The stems were bent or broken from a hold that was much too tight for something so delicate

"I...I don't really know what else to say, to be honest!" Their gaze drops towards the ground

"Maybe that's why it took me so long to face you after-" Y/n took a sharp breath, trying to prevent their emotions from tightening the grip on their throat "After that day"

"You know? I've had a lot of time to think since! Perhaps too much time..." Y/n clenched their hands into tight fists, in an attempt to alleviate some pressure

"It made me wonder about all the opportunities I missed! I never felt ready, always waiting for the right time, but there never was one...or at least that was my excuse"

A few droplets of water landed on Y/n's hand, making them look up at the sky, only to realize that it was their tired eyes that brought rain and not the darkened clouds above them

They fixed their gaze back on the ground

"I was so stupid, so I never got a chance to ask you...if you want to be mine! But it's too late now.." Y/n faced his grave, finally building up the courage to look at the picture of the hero

"I wish I had told you sooner..I love you! Happy Valentine's day Katsuki"

A/n: It's been a while, but here I am once again, serving angst for my favourite, my dynamite, my boy Bakugou

[kiranogareru]

I know I've disappeared from here, but I have returned to say that I've been watching One Piece and all I want to say is...Zoro, please perform a One Sword style: Pound-a-hoe on me if ya know what I mean

That marimo fucker has me on my knees!

He is so fucking hot and so fucking dumb and so cold and cool as fuck and he would not spare me a glance unless I was a blade, yet I would simp like Sanji just to get lost with Zoro's sexy ass

I needed to share this with some like-minded people or I'd explode