spicy-katsuki

[spicy-katsuki]

choso ☆ episode 37

[spicy-katsuki]

oh no the thiiiiiings I would let this demon do to me are truly unholy

Sukuna ➤ 2.15

#sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukunawhore #anime

[spicy-katsuki]

I hate it when people are like “get out of your comfort zone” literally every single thing I do in my life feels like me getting out of my comfort zone

[spicy-katsuki]

I'm glad we're not the only ones horny for this anime.. MAPPA really gave us that

manga vs anime

#jujutsu kaisen #goddamn #the animators really just had one hand down their pants the entire time this season #I mean same

[spicy-katsuki]

choso ☆ episode 37

[spicy-katsuki]

oh to be fucked like a disgusting whore by nanami and gojo

at the same time*

[spicy-katsuki]

ur sukuna favorite wife blurb has rotted my brain like that is a NEED now

cw: sukuna has multiple wives, a bit of wlw fetishization, degradation

"Why am I your favorite?"

Sukuna doesn't try to deny it. He can't, not when you're tucked into his bed, draped in only the jewels he's gifted you. None of the other wives are even allowed in his bedroom without permission, and yet you're here, just like you are almost every night.

He shrugs his robes from his shoulders and then he's bare, two half hard cocks hanging between his legs. It's been a while since you were frightened by this true form of his, but you can't deny it's monstrous. Four arms, a twisted mouth, a forever grinning maw across his stomach: it's be a horror if it wasn't your husband.

"Does it matter?" His lip curls as he speaks.

"It does to me," you say as you pat the bed beside you. Like a dog summoned, he eagerly crawls forward on to his hands, pulling the sheets down as he approaches.

"Maybe it's because your tits are so suckable."

First, he kisses the string of pearls across your neck and runs his tongue across the diamonds, savoring the salt of your skin on them. Then, he moves to the swell of your tit. His dagger edged teeth nip the skin and a bloom of heat stirs inside you. A bruise is already coming to the surface.

"Mai has bigger breasts than me," you pount out, breathless.

"Your skin is soft," he retorts. His free arms are clutching for you, digging into the fat of your ass.

"Gena is younger. Her skin is much more supple."

"Your cunt is sweet."

"Not as sweet as Lyla's."

Sukuna pauses for a moment, mouth half closed around your nipple. He leans back after a moment, a dark chuckle on his lips.

"Have you been licking the other wives while I've been away?" He leans in like he's angry, but the wicked grin across his face tells a different story. "Whore."

He says the word with such joy. One of his cocks is hard against your inner thigh, twitching to go back inside you, where it belongs. The mouth across his stomach has begun to drool, warm droplets of spit wetting your lower stomach and pubic hair. When you move your thighs, you aren't sure if the slick is from you or from him.

"I've tasted her on your cock, sire." You keen forward for a kiss and he lets you take one, even letting you linger for a moment, "And on your lips."

"I'm tempted to summon her now, just to see you between her legs." Sukuna gathers both cocks in one hand, guiding them towards your core. The thought of stretch to fit both makes you squirm, but his sturdy hands keep you in place, "Her cum in your lips must be a heavenly delight."

"Does that mean she's your favorite now?"

Real anger flashes across his gnarled face. With gritted teeth, he leans back onto his knees to tower about you.

"Woman, you are more hassle..."

He suddenly grips your hair and tugs, dragging your face centimeters from his. He moves your body like it weighs nothing to him, and yet he's careful not to hurt you.

"I will say this once and never again, so listen." Sukuna's eyes are sharp and narrowed, "You are the only wife I love. That is the reason you are my favorite."

Just as suddenly as he grabbed you, he lets you go. Your fall is softened by the mountain of pillows-- all of which bought just for you.

"Now, spread your legs and never ask a stupid question again."

[spicy-katsuki]

Looking forward to seeing the next bit!!

ain’t sweet enough.

part one: chocolates and strawberries.

(a/n: this story contains mature themes such as domestic abuse, sexual themes, death of characters, and mild language)

other tags: fluff, Ichihime, angst, slow start, romance.

(a/n: also, this is my first story so go easy on me like Adele said, i’ll get better overtime. feel free to give me some advice and critique, i’ll listen and respond to you. not to those being a little disrespectful though. also, i feel as if Ichigo and Orihime don’t get no love, so that’s why i wanted to do this story. anyway, we’ll see how it goes. smooches!)

A Convenience Store in Tokyo, Japan. 2:56am.

‘And there I was. In the middle of the soda and beverage aisle. My mouth wide open and my eyes glued to probably the most beautiful person on the planet.’

The previously scowling man stood there openly staring at the red headed beauty, who was having a tough time deciding on which milk to buy. He told himself that he was only at the store to pick up a few staple items: bread, milk, eggs, cigarettes, and beer. Placing the last item on his list in the basket, he started to make his way to the cashier. That's when he stopped dead in his tracks.

Ichigo Kurosaki, a twenty year old man was a man who had problems of showing his emotions. He usually bore a mean scowl on his face, scaring many people off, and he was known as a rough troublemaker. Of course, he had crushes in the past and thought of some women as attractive, but he never acted on his thoughts. And honestly, they never kept his attention long. He’ll usually get caught up in his job, hanging out with his friends, or unintentionally beat some jerk’s ass. His friends tried to tell him that he should get a hold on his temper and stop scowling, or else he'll scare all the girls away.

God, he should've listened to their advice. While he was gawking at the oblivious beauty, his heart hammered against his chest, which is a feeling he rarely got. He could feel the blood rushing into his face, and his palms were getting all sweaty.

If any gangster saw the former infamous high school bad boy, Ichigo Kurosaki, getting flustered by some pretty lady, they would be finding themselves picking up their jaws.

Finally, the woman decided on 2% milk, and was heading towards the cashier, which was at the front. Thankfully, it was away from him. But then again, she's inching close to walking out the store, and there’s a chance he’ll never see her again. He became more anxious at that thought and he didn’t know what to do. It’s not like he didn’t want to speak to her, he just didn’t know how. He’s not what you would call a people person and he was completely fine with that until just now. For the first time, he wanted to talk to someone, a woman at that. He just doesn’t know how to go about it.

She happily laid her food items on the counter: butter, eggs, cheese, red bean paste, milk...

Okay, okay. Ichigo, we don’t even know this woman. It’ll be creepy to just ask for her number. Plus, she could be nuts for all you know.

He squared his shoulders, straightened his back, and held his usual determined scowl. Clenching his handheld store basket, he made his way to the counter. And he was there, one foot away from the being that was making his heart race.

"Okay that'll be-" The cashier was about to announce the total price, until the lady interrupted him.

"Oh, I knew I forgot something! I'll be right back Mister Urahara!" She hurried to the back of the store, and in a minute or less, she came back with a pack of strawberries. Her eyes laid on Ichigo's, which made his heart rate to a little more faster.

He nervously swallowed, and tried his absolute best not to coward. But unexpectedly, the red beauty gave him bright smile. "You don't mind if I cut in front, do you?" She innocently said, which would make him say yes to anything she'd request.

"Nah. I don't mind at all." Ichigo moved out the way. She smiled even wider, "Thank you, kind gentleman." She slid back, and placed the strawberries on the counter, and the old man rung it up. "Okay, that'll be $15.48." She gave him her debit card and waited for her receipt. When he gave it to her, she grabbed her bags and turned around. "See ya later Mister Urahara!"

"You be careful out there!" The old man smiled and waved. Again, her sweet gray eyes landed on Kurosaki's deep brown ones. "And thank you, kind gentleman." He gently waved back, "Don't sweat it."

She carried her two bags of groceries to her car, which was a red beetle. Put the bags in the trunk and hopped in the front and drove off. Welp, probably the last time you’ll see her again. He silently sighed but shook it off as he laid his items on the counter for the man to ring up. “How are you, Ichigo?” Mister Urahara, the owner of the store. He ran the store for the past eight years and has been a local for twelve years, so he’s pretty familiar with everyone around the area.

"Ya staying out of trouble?" He started to ring me up. I rested my elbow on the counter and cradled my head. "I can't afford to get in trouble." Then Ichigo released a long sigh, "I lost my job today."

The cashier grunted, "What's this? The seventh job you've quit for this year?" Mister Urahara chuckled finishing up his order. Ichigo rolled his eyes, "Nope it's only the second. Geez, I knew you was losing your memory but I didn't know it was this bad." Urahara chuckled rubbing his head as Ichigo continued, “But I had a good reason this time. He was working me overtime not even giving me the pay I deserve. I even tried to explain why I couldn't work late hours but he ignored me."

"That'll be $18.50” Mister Urahara said.

Ichigo sighed, "Kinda like you're doing to me right now."

"I heard every word you said, boy." Ichigo gave him his card. He swiped it. "Well, I guess it wasn't meant to be for that job." He gave me the bags. Ichigo was about to grab them and head towards the door but the man put his hand on his shoulder to stop him from doing so.

"If you need a job, you could work here. I know I always say that, but it’s the truth.” Urahara offered to him. He’s been offering Ichigo the same opportunity for the past months, but Ichigo gives him the same reply. "Please, old man. Why would I wanna work here? They're ain't that much pay in this job."

“True, true," The manager nodded in agreement and retreated his hand from his shoulder. "But the hours here are very flexible, meaning you could come in at anytime and leave at anytime." Ichigo grabbed his bags and headed towards the door, “Appreciate the offer once again, but no thanks.”

“Also, you get the chance to talk to my regular customer Orihime-san.” He mischievously smirked at the younger man and continued. “Yeah, yeah. I saw how you were drooling over the woman.”

Ichigo popped a vein, “Oi, just because you’re a perv, doesn’t mean I’m one. I’m not just gonna accept a job because of a girl.”

Urahara raised a brow, “Oh? So you don’t deny your attraction to the woman?” Ichigo narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, “Shut up.” As he slammed the door.

On his way back to his apartment, it started to rain.

"Damn it, why does it have to rain now?" Ichigo cursed to himself while driving on the presoaked roads. It was past midnight and in the middle of December. He didn't really care for driving, especially at night. He brought a cigarette to his mouth reached for his lighter in his back pocket. A thunder boomed in the background, and a thought crossed his mind. Why was she out so late anyway? A girl like her should be at the house getting her beauty sleep. There's perverts and dangerous men-

He almost choked on his cig.

But it was like fate were pulling them together, as he saw the red head on the side of the road, parked near a lake. It looked as if her red Volkswagen Beetle had broken down, due to all the smoke that was coming from her hood.

In a flash, he pulled over.

She was soaking wet, gripping her phone for dear life. "Please pick up Tatsuki-Chan...." She silently pleaded while on the verge of tears. She didn't like being alone in the middle of the night. The thought alone scared her. But she didn't have any food at home and she had to make the choice to stop to the store after work.

"Tatsuki here! Sorry I'm not at home at the mom-" Inoue Orhime let her anger get the best of her as she pulled her phone away from her ear and threw it on the soft ground. She huffed in annoyance, her beautiful face twisted in a distressed snare. "I want to cry." And she did cry. Her eyes puffed up as she looked under the hood. Her motor was giving off pure black smoke. She should've sold this car years ago but her heart couldn't allow her to do that. She held precious memories with Gumball (the name she gave the beetle).

Now, she was left stranded on the side of a highway while it was pouring cats and dogs. She didn’t even have the energy to grab her umbrella, she was already soaking wet. But then she heard a howling nearby. I should get in the car. Coyotes could be out tonight. But she heard a car door slam. Terrified, she whipped her head in the direction of the sound and looked into his eyes.

Chocolate. She remembers those chocolate brown eyes.

"H-hey." Her voice squeaked as she stared at the dude she just seen at the convenience store. He stared back at her as he casually strolled to the car. He looked under her hood, "Damn, the engine's blowed." He stated bluntly then looked at her face which had fresh tears. His eyes roamed her soaking wet body. He quickly turned his head away from her gorgeous curves as he inspected the car further.

"Looks l-like it." She tried to clear her voice to sound more confident but failed miserably. Ichigo looked at the busted motor with some thought. Moments later, he spoke. "I know a car shop around the corner. They can have your car ready for you in a day." He informed her, as she looked up at him surprised.

He gazed into her honey doe eyes, then there was that familiar pound to his heart. "I-uh got there number. I'll call them for you so they can fill in an appointment to fix your car.” He scratched the back of his head uneasily whilst melting under her gaze.

"You'll do that for me?" She asked the man who was more than a foot taller than her petite frame. He could've been intimidating to her if he didn't offer to do such kind things for her. He gulped but slightly smiled, “With no problem.” She gave him another one of her blinding smiles, making him blush a little. Then ran up to the man and side-hugged him. "Thank you, kind gentleman!” He tensed at the sudden hug and cool sensation. “Hey, you’re wet!” She quickly pulled back and chuckled, “Oops, sorry.”

He offered to drive her home and she nodded, thanking him again. He just waved it off and helped her groceries in the back of his Jeep. He also reminded her that he phone was on the ground. Embarrassed, she thanked him as she picked it up. It wasn't a quite drive after she decided that he wasn't a bad guy. In fact, he was rather nice. Ichigo would think on the contrary.

When they first got in the car, she hit him with a bus load of questions. "So kind gentleman, what's your name?" She delightfully smiled. He put the key in ignition.

"Kurosaki. Kurosaki Ichigo." The Jeep started and he offered her a hint of a smile. Her held out her hand, "Great name, kind-oop. Kurosaki-kun!" She giggles at her clumsiness, and he simply smirked while shaking her hand. He drove onto the road.

"What's your name?" Though, he kinda already knew because of the old man. "My name is Inoue Orihime!" She chirped, gladly introducing herself, placing her hand on her hips. "A superwoman in disguise!" She tried to laugh boisterously. He raised any eyebrow at her antics. Okay, she’s kinda nuts. But what’s bad about that?

"So what do you do for a living?" She freely asked, he smirked while reaching in his box for a new cig. "I sell drugs." He said bluntly putting the cig in the corner of his mouth. He lit the cig amused as he looked her face of shock. "K-Kurosaki-kun...."

"Just kidding. I'm actually out of work." He chuckled and she caught on and laughed with him. "Jeez, don't scare me like that, Kurosaki-kun." He chuckled a bit, “Same question for you. What do you do for living?” Orihime hummed, “I’m a part-time baker downtown. But my dream job is to become a nurse. I’m currently going to school for that.”

Ichigo let out a puff of smoke, “Really? Sounds like you got it all planned.” She smiled at him, “I’m trying. It’s not easy as you can see with what happened with my car.” He nodded his head, “Well, you can’t predict everything.” And she agreed and the car was silent for a moment until she spoke again.

“So, would do you wish to be?” She asked him a question on which he doesn’t dwell on anymore. But he hummed and pondered, “I don’t know yet. Right now, I just want a job that’ll pay the bills.” Orihime nodded her head this time and thought for a moment, “You know, you’ll make a great car inspector. Or someone who works in mechanics.” He laughed at that.

“You’re just saying that because I just helped you out.” She laughed with him. “Perhaps.”

After a smooth, short ride. Which was too short for Ichigo personally. The two redheads made it to her home safely. "Welp, we're here." She announced as he drove into the apartment complex's parking lot. He park in a random spot, "Yep." Ichigo said, somewhat deflated.

Honestly, he enjoyed the conversation they had up until now. Sure, the more she spoke, the weirder she was but it in a wholesome manner. Anyway, he became comfortable with her and kinda wanted to see more of her. But he didn't know how to bring that part up since they were now at her crib, dropping her off. He didn't just want to spring the question: 'Ay, so I think you and me hit it off pretty well. So what about it? Six o'clock at Seymour's Restaurant?'

A pregnant pause loomed inside the car. She cleared her throat, adding to the awkwardness. "Would you-"

"So um-"

They both spoke at the same time. Another pause entered until Orihime broke it with a soft giggle. "You go first." She said, he smiled lightly. "Okay, I wanted to know if we could...um, you know. Keep in touch?" He asked, unsure if it sounded too creepy. She blinked at him.

He shuffled in his seat at her reaction and continued to talk. "I-I know we just met like 15 minutes ago, but keep in touch so I’d know if everything went right with your car and you seem like decent company and I thought- n-never mind. If you don't want to, it's fine-"

Orihime laughed, loudly this time. "Kurosaki-kun, it's fine." She pulled out a notepad and written something on it. After a few seconds, she handed the paper to him. "Here's my phone number. My phone is wet right now since I dropped it. But make sure you text me so that I can have your number.” Orihime handed Ichigo the slip of paper. He smirked, “I will. Take care and make sure not to throw your phone in anymore water due to anger.” She giggled and pumped her fist into the air, "I'll do my best!" Ichigo slightly shook his head. Then her smaller hand was placed on his larger hands, "I did enjoy meeting you, Kurosaki-kun. I think you're nice company too." She smiled sweetly making the guy next to her blush. He fiddled with his collar, trying to loosen the fabric.

"Yeah. I do my best.” Was all he said, as she grabbed her belongings and said her final goodbyes as she walked towards her apartment. This was about to be very interesting, he thought. Little did he know, that was also what Orihime Inoue was thinking.

The old man had just finished counting the money in the register and was about to move to sweeping the nasty floor. He was humming an old tone, till he heard a car door slam from outside.

He didn't pay it no mind until a man came running frantically to the register. "What in the ham sandwich-" He stopped as he recognized the face. "Boy, whatcha doing around here again?"

"I'll take it." The orange head said, trying to catch his breath. The old man squinted at him like he grew a second head, "Take what?"

Kurosaki Ichigo gave him the same look, only with a hint of determination. "What do think I mean? The damn job!” He said as Urahara blinked in shock. Then the owner started to smirk but before he could say anything, Ichigo beat him to it.

“And no, it’s not because of the girl, you perv.” Ichigo rolled his eyes as Urahara chuckled but gave him some paperwork.

“Sure, it’s not.”

end of chapter.

(a/n: alrighty, that’s how we gonna start it. i’m going to be editing here and there. but lemme know if you guys want me to continue the story.)

#not my stuff #bleach #ichihime #ichigo x orihime

[spicy-katsuki]

You've been writing to inmates in prison for almost two years now and have helped many feel more at ease with their current situations and possible futures. So it should come to no surprise when the warden of the most notorious prison seeks out your help with a difficult inmate they can hardly contain. The task proves difficult after you receive your first letter back from Bakugou Katsuki. More infamously known as Ground Zero, and you're not so sure you can help a man this far gone.

wc 6.8k warnings: dunno but he's mean and a villain so read at your own risk. MDNI 18+ content

Congratulations!

You've been selected for a special project due to your credentials with previous inmates. Letters exchanged between you and other inmates have had a positive effect on their rehabilitation which is one step closer to getting them assimilated back to the normalcy of society. 

We ask that you help us by reaching out to inmate B-001174 Bakugou, Katsuki. He has not had mail correspondence nor a visitor due to his self isolation since his incarceration. We are hoping that a letter from the most well received correspondent begins to pave the way for a brighter future for B-001174. Please see the below instructions on what topics to avoid for inmate B-001174

Family members of any relation to inmate

Previous crimes by inmate or inmate's affiliates. 

Current crimes by inmate's affiliates or any such nature of crime 

Current events of any kind including natural disasters, diseases, political elections or anything of relation. 

Current hero rankings, change of status or death of any hero since incarceration December 18th 2XXX

Any mention of hero(es) who captured inmate listed as follows : Aizawa, Shouta - Eraserhead, Todoroki, Enji - Endeavor, Toshinori, Yagi - Allmight, Usagiyama, Rumi - Mirko 

Current known affiliates are listed as follows : Kirishima, Eijirou, Midoriya, Izuku, Shigaraki, Tomura and Todoroki, Touya. 

We appreciate your efforts in brightening the dull lives of inmates and hope you pick up your pen and do what you do best, change lives for the better! Please see the following attachments for instructions on how to address the letter and seal inside the pre-paid postage envelope before dropping it off at any post office.

Remember each letter will be opened and read for any sort of criminal activity before being passed along to the inmate. 

Sincerely, 

Warden of Tartarus Maximum Prison Facility

You flip the letter over and skim the instructions, the same as they always are expect this time there is an extra line to add, maximum security level ten, as if you had to notate some sort of alert to the mailroom for an extra thorough check of this particular piece of mail. You bite the inside of your lip, toeing off your kitten heels before padding over to your computer with letter in tow.  

The request comes as a surprise, mostly because they listed a specific inmate instead of your usual list of inmates who wished to receive mail but had ties cut from their own families or needed some semblance of someone on the outside to speak with. Never asking you to address some sort of conversation with someone who sounded like they didn't want to have one at all. 

Snarling your lip when you read the affiliates that you needed to avoid as if their government names gave you any idea of who they were, some of them anyway. 

Two with whom you were already exchanging letters with weekly. 

Your usual routine to wind down from work is lost to your undying hunger of who this person was. Although you had to admit Bakugou sounded eerily familiar. 

A quick search brings up his villain name,  Ground Zero, captured during a raid of some sort and he alone needed several heroes for his capture. His quirk was dangerous, explosions detonated by sparks along his forearms and palms from his sweat that contained nitroglycerin and it seemed as if his mental health was just as stable as the fuel to his quirk. 

Looking at him wrong set him off and he was powerful enough to level buildings from just a few juls of output from his intense explosions. Still curiosity killed the cat and you delved deeper. 

Wondering how Izuku, aka Deku, who was quirkless and Eijirou, aka Blood Riot who could harden his skin, which you knew from their letters, got caught up with a living, breathing nuke. 

Thankfully most of the documentation and footage involving Katsuki's arrest was released to the public with redactions and edits of course but what you needed was the raw data. 

Finding unofficially released footage from Mirko's body cam, the only surviving body cam between the pursuing heroes. It starts right in the midst of the action, sirens wailing  and people screaming in the background as the scene unfolds. Ground Zero and Mirko exchange blows evenly while Endevor tries to ambush him from behind. The hulking blonde smirks, as if he had no blind spot, swinging his large arm backward hitting Endeavor right in the mouth, hard enough it sends him flying.  Katsuki's bromine eyes flicker to what must be vantage points off camera as if searching for something. 

"Got that pesky ass four eyes on me huh? I'm hurt ya don't wanna play with me properly, hops." He dodges a kick to the chest, sliding back and it's obvious his prowess as a fighter is unmatched, even with his quirk silenced.

"Shut the fuck up. Ya talk too much."  Shifting her weight to fein a kick that he catches, pinning her thick leg between his sturdy ribs and strong arm as he wears the nastiest smile. One that Mirko wipes off quickly with a swift kick from her free foot straight to his handsome face. Turning his cheek and blood arcs from his mouth, still he does not stagger nor falter. 

He even still has her leg pinned as she stands awkwardly, back arched to him and her bunny tail twitches. The viewer can only see the ground and her free leg but the mic still very much catches what he says next and you're sure the smile he was wearing earlier comes back tenfold. 

"Careful hops, ya get any rougher with me and I'll cum." 

His laugh echoes shortly after and the sound should not cause your stomach to flip the way it does before the footage abruptly ends. 

Taking the time to scroll through a few more pictures and articles, trying to find where it all went wrong when really none of that was your business, still it killed you to know. 

And when you fail to find anything, fail to find that butterfly effect that puts his whole life askew, it does little to quell the uneasy feeling that gnaws at the pit of your stomach. If anything it fuels it yet still you rummage your desk for stationary and a pen. 

Sealing away the envelope once you were done and setting it by your purse to grab in the morning when you think you'll be braver. 

Or maybe less brave as you hesitate by the mail drop off box, your train fast approaching the outside terminal before you shove it into the slot quickly. 

Too late to take it back now. 

Besides what were the odds he'd even send one back?

"B-001174, got mail." The guard grunts as he slips the already open letter under the cell door, finishing his rounds before the doors would open and the inmates could roam about the pod as they saw fit. 

Katsuki snarls, he didn't get mail, letters or pictures or even the cult following he once had he'd scared 'em all off. Tired of all the stupid bullshit they spewed at him, the ideals they placed on him or the words they shoved into his mouth. Worst yet were how they justified their actions, their own wrong doings in the name of Ground Zero, too pussy to even own up to their own actions. Katsuki hated that as much as he hated liars. 

Besides he didn't ask for all that shit, didn't care. He just wanted to watch the world burn. 

Wanted to set it on fire and Katsuki's philosophy was that anything was kindling. 

That everything is kindling. 

And he thinks he should just ignite the smallest spark despite the quirk "silencing" cuffs and let the letter be devoured by the heat of his palms. 

But the return address catches his eye, the name does. It's familiar in a way he can't quite place yet. Pulling the paper out of the envelope in the meantime. The first thing he notices is the faint almost perfumey smell of coconut from the paper, not from spraying the stationary but as if it were lotion rubbing across the parchment as you wrote in long looping letters, for a moment he finds the smell pleasant. His poisonous bromine eyes slide over the letter with ease. 

Dear Bakugou, 

I heard you don't get letters very often, if any, so I hope this one finds you well. The weather is warming up quickly, the cicadas are starting to scream even though it's barely June, we'll all be sweltering come August. Summer is my favorite season, do you have a favorite? Work slows down around this time and they usually grant us extra leave so we can enjoy the weather, which is quite nice. I hope you're getting to enjoy the sun as well. 

I know cooking is one of your favorite things, I can see why. It can be relaxing or make you feel good to nourish someone else. What other hobbies do you have aside from cooking? Any favorite books or authors? Maybe I can send your favorite one in! Just let me know. 

Do you have everything you need? Do you need any money for commissary? Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all, I'm only a letter away. 

Hope to hear from you and maybe soon I can call you Katsuki. 

Much Love

He snorts as he reads the last line and it finally dawns on him from where he knows your name. Lifting himself out of his prison cot with ease, the cheap thing groaning from his bulk as he exits his cell. Heading towards the neighboring cell that holds Deku and Riot, shoving his way into the too cramped space for the bulking men. 

"Ka-kaachan!" Izuku chirps, surprised to see the hot headed blonde out of his cell and especially surprised to see Bakugou in his own. Lingering by Izuku's half with a quirked brow, his eyes roaming until they found the hidden stack of papers. 

"Gonna grab breakfast with us?" Kirishima asks as he watches large hands snatch at the pile. Instantly Izuku stands, eyes darkening as he steps towards Katsuki.

"Put those down, Kaachan." It's that fake polite smile Izuku wears before a fight, the kind that never reaches his eyes and Bakugou doesn't heed the warning, "Please."

It's clipped and now Kirishima thinks to rise, doesn't want either of them to do solitary or to deal with the month long bickering if they do get into a physical fight. 

Katsuki looks over the letters, reading them quickly and appreciating that Izuku is meticulous enough to keep them in chronological order, each one signed off the same way. Much love. 

Such bullshit. 

Izuku shoves Bakugou when he still scowls down at the papers that also smell like coconut. Katsuki drops the letters unceremoniously and Izuku scrambles to keep them from hitting the concrete floor. Bakugou already on Kirishima's side who watches with a confused glare. 

"What are you-" But Kirishima doesn't get to say much else as Katsuki lifts the thin mattress from the metal frame to find the hidden letters. Tucked away safely as if the battle worn villain took comfort in the false words in shiny black ink. 

Same return address, same name, same bull shit sign off. 

"Katsuki!" Kirishima shoves him and the blonde hardly moves, Eijirou's skin half hardening out of habit before he tries to shove again. Katsuki hits his forearm harshly, a soft pop in warning although neither could do too much with the amount of sedation and silencing that came from the collar from around their thick throats. Izuku sans silencing cuffs, has no worries about a part of him being dulled. He was built like an ox with the metabolism of a pubescent teen despite being in his late twenties so sedatives or mood stabilizers hardly have any effect. 

Bakugou tosses the letters onto Kirishima's scratchy blanket before he scoffs. 

"Tsk, believe that bullshit?" He's rolling his eyes as he leaves the cell with nothing but the rustle of paper as they try to rehide what they act like is their dirty little secret. 

God weak hearted fools were so fucking annoying. 

Post through the prison system could take some time, especially when it came to newer exchanges. It could be anywhere between two weeks to two months before you saw a reply from Katsuki. If you got one at all. 

But the thought of his phantom reply slips to the back of your head what with your current workload and the other correspondents so when you see a sealed envelope the prison's return address you think nothing of it. 

Not until you open it to see an open envelope with your address but instead of your name is spelled out Fake Bitch. 

Blinking furiously you pull out the letter, unfolding it quickly to let your eyes scan over the page, each word burning into your retinas.

Piece of shit, 

Such a pathetic fuckin slut, writing any and every desperate man behind bars you think is hot, hopin you'll get a conjugal visit. Already fucked everyone at surface level ya gotta try prison dick? 

Or is it worst than that?  Mommy and daddy didn't love ya enough? Didn't give ya enough attention so you look for it in anyone that'll give ya the time of day? Prey on those with no one to talk to knowing you'd get a reply out of desperation. 

Lickin knives all ya know sweetheart? Pretty fuckin scummy if ya ask me. 

Fuck off and die, 

Bakugou Katsuki 

Now you've received your fair share of mean and asshole letters but this? This was different. 

This felt personal. 

It was rule number one you'd given yourself when you were asked to start penning letters while in a shitty place yourself. 

And yet here you were breaking it for some asshat who thought the cityscape was his to destroy. 

Heart ringing in your ears as you try to calm yourself, counting your breaths until you finally could see straight. Penning up something simple yet effective telling yourself that even if he didn't reply it didn't matter. 

You drop it into the mail the next day, two weeks later the same guard is slipping another opened letter under Bakugou's cell door. A snarl to his lip, he didn't expect you to reply and if he was being honest he may have forgotten about you, still the envelope was addressed to his inmate number and no longer is his name written in your cute script. 

While you may think you know everything there is to know about life and me, I'd like to point out your position over mine. 

Last I checked I'm not miles and miles in the ground, under heavy security, among other things a civilian wouldn't be privy to. However I will put it into lame man's terms as it seems your cognitive abilities have declined. 

I'm not the one behind bars, asshole. 

Much Hate

Bakugou clicks his tongue, he was used to the insult, wore it proudly most days but he knew his first letter would go one of two ways.

One, you'd cry when you read it and never replied to him again, which was his hope or two there was a very slim chance he'd get under your skin enough you'd feel the innate need to respond and defend yourself. 

Bakugou does what he does best and burrows further under your pretty skin twirling the pen he finds in the library with ease as he takes to writing out a delicious reply. 

Mail from Tartarus normally came on Wednesday or Thursday as if someone at the facility always forgot to send it out at the beginning of the week. So it became a part of your routine to check your PO Box you set up in a prefecture over in order to preserve your safety should something ever go awry with any of your pen pals or to receive online purchases. Mail day used to be a day you looked forward to, something to help you get through the remainder of your work week but today it was a day you dreaded. 

The excitement from seeing the others' responses in the mail is overshadowed by one particular envelope that slips out of the Manila folder that all of the letters to the same correspondent were sent in to save postage. 

You should be reading Touya's letter or hell anyone else's for that matter, yet here you stood, going for that obnoxious scrawl as he still refused to spell out your name and instead gave you some horrible insult. 

Pathetic Slut

If lying to yourself by writing half ass disingenuine letters to prisoners out of pity makes ya feel like yer changing the world then by all fucking means write away sweetheart. 

Just don't be surprised when you get an asshole response from an asshole behind bars. 

Cause we both know that's what you think of all of us don'tchya? 

Die, 

Bakugou Katsuki 

It shouldn't bother you, it shouldn't burrow so deep into your skin that his inky words scratch at your bones. Like his fingers could dig around in the marrow like maggots yet still it makes your cheeks heat. Makes your eyes burn from frustration and lack of blinking as your palms sweat. 

Soles of your feet burning as you walk further into your apartment to rummage through the drawers of your desk.  Uncaring how things topple over as you furiously grab for a permanent marker, pens and books scattering over the hardwood floors. 

Heart pounding as it resounds through your body like metal striking a bell. Each beat faster, harder than the last until you think your vision starts to ehb at the edges from how much hatred burns away at any of the kindness you built up over the last decade. 

Snapping the marker in half by the time you're done writing your final letter to the asshole. 

FUCK 

YOU 

You don't read it, don't care if it makes it past screening and he never sees it at all. Shoving it into one of your personal envelopes on your desk slapping on a floral postage stamp before stomping down to the express box that sat just outside of your apartment complex. 

It takes a full week for you to calm down, another week to stop thinking about it daily, and one more week to even reply to the letters you got almost a month ago. 

An email comes in from the post office, alerting you to something being placed in your box. You hope it's the new sun dress you bought as retail therapy after a long week and an even bigger bottle of booze that you'd drained. Spending quite a pretty penny on something you didn't even really have an occasion to wear it to. 

More like a nice date, the type of dress you could dress up or down depending on what sorts of accessories you paired with it. 

Taking the train three stops past your own to head into the post office. Turning the key to your decent sized box finding within the metal your promised package. 

And on top of that a familiar manila folder with the return address to Tartarus. 

You grit your teeth, holding onto the mail harder than you should as you take those three long stops back home. Swallowing thickly as you climb your steps, the folder and plastic bag package punctured from your sharp nails as you quickly press in your seven digit key code to get into your apartment and out of the sweltering mid August air.

When your door shuts it closed off the sound of the screaming cicadas and the few crickets that lie in the green space beside your apartment as you try to force yourself to follow your nightly routine. 

Remove shoes, take off makeup, eat, shower, sleep. 

But that damn folder was burning a hole into your fingers as you go to your desk, rocking your chair side to side before you just rip it open like you'd rip off a bandaid. 

This time the letter addresses you in a new way. 

Sweetheart, 

I dare you to come say that shit to my face. You fuckin better show up Saturday other wise I'll let your precious Izu and Eiji know just how much of a fake bitch ya really are. Imagine what it would do to them? Break their hearts I'm sure.  

Ya'd hate to mess with their progress wouldn't ya? 

Don't forget to wear something cute, it'd be nice to see some fat tits in my face at the very least. If a shitty woman like you even owns anything relatively sexy.

Fuck off 

Bakugou Katsuki 

You see red, breathing deeply as you re-read the letter again, who the fuck was this asshole? Black mailing you into visiting him so it wouldn't hurt your other correspondents because Bakugou was so fucking selfish. 

So black out angry you don't seem to wake up, not when you put yourself in that sleek summer sun dress that went to your mid thigh, not when you stare at your angry scowl as you apply light make up, and especially not on the hour drive and then two hour ferry ride to Tartarus. Especially not during the twenty minute descent in a cramped elevator box with a guard in front and behind you with AKs clipped to their chests, the sweltering heat seeping down this low in the ground due to body heat and poor ventilation of the prison. 

Not until the buzzer of the barred door in front of you screams its demands, that the handle was "live" and could be opened by the guard standing in the cage between the hallway that led back to freedom and the other where you could already see toxic bromine burning into your skin. 

This was a bad idea. This was a really fucking bad idea.  

You swallow thickly, it was too late to turn back now wasn't it? The door had already swung shut as the guard came closer to you for one final inspection.

"Dress is kinda short." Katsuki can overhear the guard mumble to you, can see how the guard's fingers twitch and for some reason his own do too. He watches how the guard lingers, how the man's hand press against your body and bunches up your dress as he pats you down a little too roughly. How you bite your lip when the man squeezes your ribs and under the weight of your breasts a little too roughly. 

Katsuki is starting to see red, sweat begins to collect on his brow. He hasn't even fully seen you at least not without an obstructed view but already he can tell he likes what he sees. 

Likes how the dress clings to parts of you you'd favor, the parts you want to really highlight. How the hem flusters higher with each step of your strappy flat shoes.

Loves the scowl that pinches up your cute face when the door buzzes to allow you into the room with him and another six guards. Likes how you straighten your spine as if you've gotten fresh resolve when you come in. 

Looking at him like he was trash and he smirks, like how you don't recoil from him despite how he looks now.  

Plexiglass spit guard with metal framing afixed to his face to keep more than his salvia to himself, more so to keep his gnashing teeth away from people's skin. How his throat is encircled with a thick black collar with a red light set far past stun and closer to kill that would send an electric pulse if he misbehaved but only if they could reach their remote fast enough. 

How the silver cuffs around his thick wrists chain him to the table top, thick forearms exposed from him rolling up his bright orange suit that was harsh on the eyes thanks to the flickering fluorescent lighting overhead. Soft ash blonde hair messy at the top with a self given undercut beneath, iris so bloody red it was as if he was born straight from the calf of Ares himself. 

"Hey Sweetheart." He purrs and his voice is pure sin. 

Pure fucking sin. 

Sending a jolt straight to your clit as his pretty lips curl up into a deadly smirk, showing his sharp canines. 

Bakugou can't contain the feeling of triumph that dances in his veins, purposely egging you on in his letter with the closest Saturday knowing you'd be allowed to come on such short notice. See, most visitors needed to have thorough background checks and intensive mental testing before coming to meet anyone in maximum security five hundred meters below sea level. 

But the conniving blonde knew you were special. 

Knew the warden of Tartarus favored you and would allow you to skip these precautions, especially after what that dumbass thinks you've done. In less than a month of writing to him, that damn Deku finally added Inko-san back to his visiting list, actually came to the visit and cupped her hands. Murmuring on and on that her baby boy with the wavy emerald curls was okay. Inko cried and returned every month since.

No different for Kirishima either, adding Fat Gum, who was like a father figure to him during their shared time at UA, to his visitor list. Surprisingly Taishiro came, still comes, him and Inko car pool together. 

Not even a few heartbeats pass between the two of you before you feel your tongue slicing up the sensitive skin of the roof of your mouth. Of the hard bone of your teeth. 

"Fuck. You." The words drip with sticky poison that even one of the guards behind him flinches but not Bakugou. 

No never Bakugou Katsuki, the Ground Zero himself who leveled a city for the fucking fun of it 

He smiles, both sides of his mouth curling up and it should be disturbing how much he obviously gets off on your frustration, on your hate. But it isn't, it's almost mesmerizing how he looks at you. Like you're something to triumph and conquer, something he wants to keep for himself. 

With that you turn to leave, skirt fluttering from the movement and Katsuki can see the tattoo on your upper thigh, the ink making his mouth salivate as he wonders if he can find any more you've got hidden on that fine body. 

He lunges despite the rattling chains that keep him close to the table, still he has enough leeway to grab onto your arm in one giant hand. Foolishly you try to pull free. 

"Oh come on sweetheart. I've got a whole hour of play time for this. Yer not leaving, sit down." 

His grip on you is tight, his hand big enough to engulf half of your forearm and it gets tighter still. Hot palm making your bones creak from the pressure as he smiles up at you cruelly. All you can do is glare down at him, bore all of your hate where the two of you are connected, his skin feels electric against yours. 

"Ya know, I could probably still blow your arm off." He doesn't bother to say it quietly, chuckles when you look at the quirk silencing cuffs and collar he dons, "They ain't shit against strong quirks." 

Your eyes flash, anger spiking your blood and stupidly you strike. Hand stinging as badly as the tears that come to your eyes and threaten to fall past your lash line. Clawed fingers met with the metal framing of the glass spit guard mask that covers his mouth. Still one of your claws cuts his cheeks and he howls with laughter. 

"Like I said-" He yanks you down harshly, playful tone from his voice gone as your ribs smack into the edge of the metal table, puffs of hot breath fogging the glass of his spit guard, "Sit." 

The awkward angle forces your knees to bend, settling on to the cold metal stool while his warm fingers leave blossoms of black and blue on the skin. As if returning the favor for the cut. 

"I can feel your heart pounding princess,yer pussy throbin this hard too?" He licks his lips, laughs when you lean away from him in disgust, "Ya like it. All sluts play hard to get at first." 

Your eyes flicker to the guards behind him, all six pretend not to notice, panic shoots through your veins and the realization of just how bad of a fucking idea this was settles over you harshly. Like ice water flowing from the nape of your neck.  

He follows your gaze, even cranes his head like he didn't know who was behind him and exactly where they stood. 

"Oh them? They ain't gonna do shit. They're too scared of me. Blew a guy's head off last week." He smiles and one of the guards suddenly finds the floor interesting, "Do ya know how drugged up I am right now baby? How much force these cuffs have to use to bring my quirk down to half power?" 

Choosing not to respond you let your eyes fall back on his handsome face watching it snarl as you ignore him. 

Oh he'd make you see him. 

"What cat got yer tongue now ya scared cause I'm so strong? Invincible?" Your eyes narrow as he speaks the arrogance of this man is far beyond your comprehension. 

"You bleed like every other man." He loves the way you speak, how you wield that sharp tongue. How he wants it pressed and slashing over his own as he's two fingers deep into your tight cunt, moaning into his mouth. 

He brings the thick digits of his free hand parting gift you bestowed upon him. The long thin slash as rough pads bring smeared blood into view so he can lick away the dark red beads. 

"Bloody men are usually the most dangerous, you never know if it's his or that of another's." He lets his hot thumb roll over the cut, cauterizing the small wound hoping it scars. 

Eyes widening as he blatantly uses his quirk as if there weren't armed guards behind him. You're watching his eyes closely as he does and finally you realize what he said is true. There is a dullness to them that was lacking in the raw footage you saw all those months ago. 

Then his eyes were vibrant, sharp and slicing, much more intense then the hazy glare he gives you now. It didn't make him any less of an apex predator. 

Still watching you, recording your small movements and committing your soft skin to his memory as he studies you. 

"Got a quirk?" He grunts out after a moment, after he collects whatever information he was looking for, "I wanna guess first. Manipulation?" 

He smirks at his own joke and you roll your eyes, trying to ignore how his thumb swipes at the underside of your forearm idly. How the motion twists your stomach violently with dizzying emotions. 

Rolling your eyes before you scoff an answer, "No. Besides you expect me to manipulate through what? Ink?" 

"Ya never know. Went to school with some asshole whose quirk was comic book sound effects." He leans back never letting go but now his hand is around your wrist. His fingers twitch when he looks at yours, fights the urge to roughly lace them with his own. 

"Well I don't. Manipulate I mean." You adjust in your seat, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny, "And I won't disclose whether I have a quirk or not." 

"Haaah? Worried I'll like it?" When you don't answer he adds, "Is it compatible with mine?" 

Slowly blinking at him trying not to read into what you think he means. He groans at your silence, the higher dosage of his morning meds finally catching up making him a little lethargic. Taking his edge off when all he wants to do is rise over the crashing wave of the pending high he can barely keep at bay and whisk you out of the depths of hell the two of you currently sit in. 

"So then what? You just used regular words to manipulate them?" He fights back a yawn. 

"Who?" Your ribs still ache from his actions earlier, it doesn't warn you like it should. 

"Don't play fuckin stupid, Sweetheart." He's lurching into your space again, hand moving back over your bruise. It makes your stomach clench when it shouldn't, especially not as the chains rattle against the metal table top, serving as a heavy reminder of the setting of this conversation. 

Still his breath comes in quick puffs as it fogs up the glass again, "Shitty hair. Deku." 

Your brows furrow for a moment, another groan from him. 

"For fucks sake." Light squeeze of your arm as he spits their names, "Fuckin nerdy ass Izuku. Eijirou."

"I can't talk about them." Looking away from his darkened eyes that flash with a fury of emotion.

"Who's stoppin ya? Them?" He tilts his head towards the guards, "I told ya-" 

"B-001174, you have five minutes left for visitation." A voice crackled over an old speaker in the visitation cell, "Please remove your hands from the guest or we will apply force." 

The small light on his collar flashes red and he just smirks, looking up, well above your head. Staring directly at the warden like he knows exactly where he stood behind the two way mirror. 

"Yea? You'll apply force? Go ahead. Nothin but a little shock t' me but t' her? She'll die warden." There is no mirth in his smirk, lips twitching as his eyes are shrouded in dark warning, "And we wouldn't want that would we?" 

The way he speaks sends a chill down your spine, the haze of whatever sedative they had him on is now gone and you're left sitting across from those vibrant radioactive eyes. Burning through the mirror to sear the warden's skin in a threat, a promise. 

A buzz rings out as the seventh guard comes in, he scrunches his nose and it makes his oddly shaped mustache twitch. 

"Miss." He grunts holding out his hand for you to take too close in your personal space for your liking. Slapping it out of your face before following your right arm down to where Katsuki held fast. Peeling off his thick digits with your finely manicured claws. 

He hisses at the loss of contact, glaring at the guard when his hands hover close and the older man is smart enough not to antagonize a literal monster. Katsuki stands suddenly, a scream comes from the bolts securing metal to metal as he rips the table out of the ground, unable to break the chains for now. 

Everyone but Bakugou in the room freezes, guns cocked and aimed at the bulking villain who rose to his full height, sticking his prison issued white shoe onto the seat he just sat on to push down roughly. Thick thigh muscles straining against the fabric of the bright orange pants. A smile to his face when the chains finally snap and he can move his hands more freely before ripping off the plexiglass spit guard letting it clink on to the ground. His large hands run through his hair as if to fix it. 

"I'm entitled to a proper fuckin good bye." He hisses at everyone in the room, they keep their guns aimed at him but make no move to pull any trigger. 

Katsuki stalks closer, a wall of muscle, broad chest and shoulders, slim waist that leads down to powerful legs and you try not to let your breath catch in your throat. 

Try not to let the big bad wolf win by letting him know just how scared you were. Over how impressive it was that he snapped reinforced titanium chains so easily. 

He's well within your arms reach now, so close heat radiates from his chest. 

"I'll see ya soon, Sweetheart." He bids you a final goodbye, waving his fingers that pop with burning caramel explosions. You're not sure why it sets you off, maybe it was the way he wore that stupid smirk on his face, maybe it was the way he demonstrated his power or his dominance in an attempt to intimidate you one last time. 

Maybe it's the way he was arrogant enough to think you'd waste six hours round trip on his ass ever again. 

Either way it makes your temper flair, burrows deep into your subdermis to scarpe at your bones one final time before you unknowingly seal your own fate. Not knowing how his body would react to your parting words. 

"There won't be a next time. I came here for one thing and that was to say fuck you." Delivered with just as much clotting venom as it was before, middle finger held high.

His smirk turns deadly, blowing out a snort as he leans closer as if to share a secret. You can smell the cheap commissary soap that clings to his skin that's starting to lose out to the rapidly building nimbus of smoking caramel that clouds the air as his lips press to your ear.  

"Don't have t'. I'll come to you." He pulls back and winks as you're guided out of the room, glare fixed on him as he stands unbothered. 

He's lying, prisoners lie all the time especially if they think they can get the upper hand. He couldn't come to you. He couldn't escape prison for starters and lastly there was no way in hell he'd ever find out where you lived.  The prison made sure of that by always including a fresh envelope with their own return address in the top left corner, you should know. You only triple checked each time you sealed away the letter, even a fourth time at the post box staring down at the address on the envelope making sure both were correct.

So fuck Bakugou Katsuki for being a dirty liar, fucking hypocrite.

Shoving yourself into an oversized shirt after your body shower you finally get to plop down into bed. Relishing the feel of fresh sheets and blankets as you sigh deeply. It had been a long, long day and no amount of self care could get his toxic blood red eyes out of your head.

Switching on the TV to pull up some show to numb your mind with familiarity when the channel cuts out. Breaking news flashing across the screen makes your body go rigid. 

A prison break from Tartarus has occurred in the late evening hours, several high profile villains are believed to have escaped such as Shigaraki Tomura, Todoroki Touya, aka Dabi, Kirishima Eijirou aka Blood Riot,  Midoriya Izuku aka Deku and Bakugou Katsuki better known as Ground Zero. Please do not approach suspected escapees, please report any suspicious person or activities immediately. Most importantly keep all doors and windows locked at all times. I repeat do not engage with the inmates. 

A knock comes from your left, making you jump out of your skin as you fist the sheets. A cold sweat breaking out over your skin in goose flesh as your hearing rings in your ears. Unable to bring yourself to look at the sliding glass door to your balcony just yet as if you could ignore it and the cause of the sound would simply go away.

Another rapt of knuckles pulls your attention once more before you finally dare to peek to see glowing red eyes peering in. The devil himself at your door and you knew better than to let him in. 

Knew better that a locked door couldn't keep him out. 

Bromine burning in the night like ever fanned flames, orange jumpsuit obnoxiously out of place against the night sky, stained in deep burgundy red and ash grays, the same colors streaking his face before he knocks again. But this time it's in warning, hard enough to rattle the door that you both know he could rip off the track with ease.

"How- how did you?" Teeth chattering that you grit closed still refusing to give in to his tactics until he presses a small envelope against the glass. Your personal envelope with your real home address listed for return. 

Panic bubbles up your throat in a scream that dies at the back of your teeth as you sit frozen a minute longer while he gives a predatory grin, large hands pressing against the glass before his palms glow bright orange. Brighter than his jumpsuit before the glass shatters and your scream finally escapes your lungs. 

In an instant he's towering over you, palms pressing into biting shards as he cages you against the plush comforter dipping his head low so he can nose at your throat, hot palm at your ribs. Leave a searing bite pulling a strangled yelp from your soft lips that makes him laugh before his mouth is at your ear for the second time today. Finally speaking dangerously low.

"Told ya I'd see ya soon, Sweetheart."

#not my post #not me #the tingles I got from this tho #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

[spicy-katsuki]

Seriously, this man is so beautiful !

#one piece #roronoa zoro #pirate hunter zoro #anime #not my art #one piece zoro

[spicy-katsuki]

Hey guys so I was writing this story on FanFiction a long time ago. I finally updated my story! I really enjoyed writing it so I hope all the people who had started reading it on my old fanfic account find this one! @rozuberry I believe this pic is by this creator.

Parhelion

Prologue

Ch. 1 - We're Friends

Ch. 2 - The Haircut

Ch. 3 - Study Night

Ch. 4 - Night at the Kurosakis - Part 1

Ch. 5 - Night at the Kurosakis - Part 2 NEW

[spicy-katsuki]

Obsessed with the idea that he doesn’t collect shiny things because you’re now his shiny thing. Imagine how protective he becomes of you 🫠

i've never really put much thought into actual dragon dragon-king bakugou, but — what if —

you meet him for the first time in king todoroki's arena — on what you assume to be the last day of your life. over something menial like stealing a porkbun or something, and now his grace has decided that a trial-by-combat is a fitting punishment for you crimes.

only your opponent is a massive, hulking, fire-red dragon.

and you're not the only one thrown in there; a few other vagrants and miscreants, too, and they — stupidly — rush off to meet their own deaths as they try to strike him down with the blunt swords and dented shields you'd been thrown by the guards before they sealed you to your fate.

the dragon is chained up, of course, like a prized possession for the king. a large collar with inward curving spikes around his neck, which have worn scars into his scales, as well as some metal contraption around his maw to keep it shut. it doesn't hinder him useless, though, and when he tries to fly up and away from the amphitheater, the force of his wings sends you all rolling backward.

despite the fact that he's maiming people with the spines on his tail and bashing them into mush with the weight of his head — you can't help but to feel bad for him, trapped in an arena, put on display for people to taunt and laugh at. the chains look heavy, the muzzle tight; you wonder if his wings could even carry him anymore.

so you decide that the only way for you to live through this, if at all, is if you can manage to get this big boy off the ground.

while the other competitors fight the dragon for their lives, you instead rush for the chains that are nailed into the walls of the arena and smash at them with the rounded end of a shield. every time he jerks his head this way and that, or rears back on his legs, wings flapping wildly, the wall he's nailed to becomes looser and looser, starts to crumble and fall away.

and just as he turns to you — his last foe — it breaks free, and you swear, you swear, those big, red eyes of his narrow, brow furrowing, before he's jerking the chain twice. tugging it noisly, almost to get your attention.

you grab onto it just before he takes to the sky.

the rush of air is so cold and stinging that your eyes water, and you hold onto the lifeline as you're carried up and away from the kingdom, over the entirety of it, far enough that he can land safely without getting charged by the guards.

when you both hit ground, you think you're going to puke, especially as he stands tall and stretches his wings like he hasn't been able to for years — but instead of smashing you, too, to a clump in the grass, he only leans his head down to you, nudges you hard enough that you topple over.

you're still clinging to the shield and you use the edge on the nails of his muzzle, too, twisting them loose so that the iron falls away and he can stretch his jaw. show off his long, very sharp teeth that could easily tear you to bits.

and yet he doesn't. doesn't even try.

it'll be harder to get the collar off his neck, but he watches you with his slit eyes, brow arched menacingly, and nudges you to the long length of his neck. huffs until you're grabbing the spines and hauling yourself up onto him, like some kind of impossibly large horse.

and you continue on like that, for a bit; he finds a field of wild bulls and eats nearly all of them, maiming one for you before setting it aflame; you try to gather little shiny things for him, because you've heard dragons like treasure and you want to keep him, but he doesn't seem too interested; you have no family to return to, having grown up alone on the king's streets, and he becomes all you have.

you begin to feel like some chosen one from the fairytales you've heard spoken by firelight. the dragon bakugou stays with you, and the only reason you can fathom is that, maybe, he feels indebted to you — but you've saved one another, and that's what matters.

the night everything changes is when you're deep in the forest, camped up near the edge of a clear-water spring. the dragon bakugou grows lazy, curled around the perimeter of the water with his long neck and — he's a male dragon, you know, but you've got to wash yourself eventually.

you do feel a bit odd, undressing yourself as he watches, but you assume it's only out of plain and simple curiosity that he does; you assume that's why he does anything, for you, like allowing you to lay near his head when you sleep or huffing in your face until you laugh when you try to wrap your arms around his nose.

you try to pay him — an animal, a creature of fantasy — no mind as you dive below the surface, enjoying the refreshing rush of water over your skin. when you reach the bottom, tangle your hands in the gentle weeds, you feel a pang of sadness, that he might never experience such a feeling.

but when you return to the surface — he's gone.

in place at the water's edge is the collar you've never been able to loosen. rusted and creaking, looking much larger off his neck and alone in the grass, and your stomach lurches with a thousand horrible possibilities of what could have happened until —

"oi."

until you turn around and there is a massive, hulking man, naked as the day he came, with eyes the color of the scales that are dotted along his skin in stray patches. crowned in a mess of ashen hair, scars along his neck and face and arms—one of which is inked in some symbol you may have seen once. on those travellers, from the southern clans.

he, the man bakugou, you realize, has no concept of personal space — or the fact that he's totally naked and so are you — and he wastes no time in crowding into you. even rushing, a little, when you squeal and try to clamber back up the bank for your clothes.

like a stubborn boy, he pushes you into the dirt and even grins, evil and mischievous, with human teeth. you have no idea what to expect of him; men have never been too kind to you, afterall, someone without a home or family and easy to be rid of.

but he, the man bakugou, only nudges his face into yours, huffs against your cheek when you squirm, and you think, you think, you can hear some kind of quiet rumbling purr coming from the deep center of his chest.

#not mine #katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #Katsuki #mha #my hero acedamia #dragon Katsuki

[spicy-katsuki]

am i the only one obsessed with a virgin bakugou learning how to eat you out? no? just me?

It is not just you, Nonny. 😮‍💨 I'm running low on spoons so here's some headcanons while I stew on this some more to write a proper drabble.

NSFW. MDNI.

virgin!Bakugou who had never really given sex a second thought. He was busy becoming a Pro and then climbing the ranks. He was waiting for the right person.

virgin!Bakugou who finally found his person in you. His first real relationship. But he didn’t want you to know just how inexperienced he was.

virgin!Bakugou who kept hidden all of the “firsts” you had taken from him. He was glad it was you, but shame still hung heavy over him every time you tried to push him further.

virgin!Bakugou who decides tonight's the night. He’s read every reddit thread on sex and “pleasuring her.” He’s talked to Kirishima (in vain), Denki (begrudingly), and Sero (who was the only one to actually give half-assed advice). He was ready. Or so he thought.

virgin!Bakugou who purposely lays on the heavy petting until you’re a whiny mess. He’s never pushed you this far, but now you’re grinding against his jeans, and your kisses are becoming more heated with open mouth moans.

virgin!Bakugou who tries to hide his nervous anxiety when you ask him to take you to the bedroom by becoming uncharacteristically quiet. He gives you a nod, his eyes hooded, and you mistake his silence for anticipation.

virgin!Bakugou who trembles as he goes for the hem of your shirt. He pulls it over your head and makes quick but clumsy work of your bra. He’s seen your boobs. Even if you haven’t “gone all the way” yet, you’d done a few other things… but this time feels different.

virgin!Bakugou who kisses you to distract you as he fumbles with the button on your jeans before pulling them off of you. He watches as you lay back on his sheets and shimmy your panties off yourself before you are laid bare below him.

virgin!Bakugou who goes to his knees, trying to remember everything he read and was told about eating pussy. He wants you to enjoy it and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited about this part too.

virgin!Bakugou who takes his time with you, listening to every breath and moan you make to find the right spot and use the right amount of pressure. He’s sloppy and clumsy, but your moans make him feel like he’s doing something right.

virgin!Bakugou who lets you grip his hair and guide his mouth to the place that will send you over the edge, who listens as your breath catches when he sucks on your clit, who will do anything to hear you say his name like that again, whose cock is throbbing with need to fill you.

virgin!Bakugou who can’t help but grind against the bed as you pant and whine, your grip on his hair urging him on until his chin is soaked with his spit and your juices.

virgin!Bakugou who hears your breath hitch as your thighs clamp tightly around his head as you cum on his tongue, his name on your lips.

virgin!Bakugou who grips your thighs and moans against your pussy as he cums with you in his jeans.

virgin!Bakugou who is determined to make you cum at least two more times tonight before he even attempts to fuck you.

[spicy-katsuki]

my babies 

Some works that I never published here ヾ(•ω•`)o

#not my art #ichihime #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo x orihime #orihime kurosaki

[spicy-katsuki]

[spicy-katsuki]

The Hero of Hyrule…

[spicy-katsuki]

The way this broke my heart tho 😭😭

Blink

Word count: 866 Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: angst

As a Pro-hero, Bakugou prides himself on being strong, capable, a protector.

But even more than that, he prides himself on winning you over, his partner who had once declared very loudly that you were happier, safer when working alone.

It had taken him a while, but he’d taken the time to show you he could be someone you could rely on to have your back in the field, and your heart when you weren’t.

But right now? He feels utterly helpless.

Concrete slabs press down painfully on his chest from the building that came down on the two of you, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t move it. Smoke and dust fill his nose, make his eyes sting. It’s like his body has stopped listening, and all he can produce despite the sweat rolling down his face is a few pathetic sparks that singe his side where his hand is trapped.

You’re only a few inches out of his reach, his free hand stretching out for you, fingertips raw and bleeding from where he clawed at the ground in an effort to reach you. He can tell he has a few broken ribs too, his body screaming in protest every time he tries to stretch again, every time he tries to free himself and get to you.

He’s not sure if you’re even really recognizing him most of the time now, your breaths shallow and shaky. There’s concrete pressing down on you too, but what’s worse is the two thick bars of metal that you’d landed on when the villains had ripped the building from beneath your feet. 

He can see the torn fabric at the base of each rebar are soaked with red, the stains slowly spreading. He can’t help the irrational anger he feels at the sight, at the realization that they’ve ruined your pretty little hero suit. 

Your eyes fluttering shut once again has him calling out desperately to you, calling your name until they open once again, hardly focused as you try to stay awake.

A cough wracks your body, and he watches in denial as blood stains your mouth, those lips he loves to kiss, to nip at when you’re being mouthy. He’d give anything to hear you mouth off right now, to blame him for the predicament you’re in. 

But you’re silent, using all your energy to just stay alive at this point, and he knows it. So he fills the silence himself, makes you promises of a shiny engagement ring, whatever wedding you want, babies that look just like him. But you have to stay alive. For him. 

It’s selfish, he knows, to demand you keep fighting for him, but he feels utterly helpless- is utterly helpless as he watches you bleed all over the dirt, knows how heavily the concrete is weighing down on your battered body. He wishes he could go back to two hours ago, back to before you followed him in pursuit of the villains, too determined to catch them to wait for backup. He’d assured you the two of you could do it, that it would be a piece of cake, back to the moment you’d laughed and bet him you could catch both the criminals before he can.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying at first, too focused on the soft smile that graces over your lips as he continues to ramble about the life he’s gonna give you, until your gaze shifts to look at him, a moment of clarity as that smile withers. 

“Katsuki, this isn’t your fault.” you murmur weakly, always able to read his mind (his heart), even when he doesn’t want you to. Your voice is soft, shaky, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment to collect himself, stop that sob that’s crawling it’s way from his chest.

When he opens them again, you’re staring right through him. 

Panic fills him as he zeroes in on your chest, for the tell-tale rise that tells him you’re still breathing. 

It never comes. 

Your name slips from his lips in a hushed whisper, eyes blurring with the onslaught of fresh tears as his calls become louder. Desperation overtakes him and he lets loose an explosion that burns a fresh hole into his side, the concrete above him crumpling from the heat but not letting up enough for him to reach you. 

He’s screaming your name now, frantically trying to claw his way to you, a stream of curses and pleas bouncing off the dirt and rubble around the two of you. 

By the time the rescue team finds the two of you, his side is blackened from his quirk, skin burnt and angry from the persistent heat, and his voice is gone, barely a whisper as he continues to call for you. 

A call that’s never answered.

Kirishima’s one of the first to find the two of you, and a year later, he tearfully admits to Bakugou he thought he’d lost you both when he pulled his friend from the rubble. That it had seemed that all life had left the blonde’s eyes, despite the fact that his pulse was still strong. 

Katsuki doesn’t have the heart to tell him he wishes he had died with you that day.  

#mha #bnha #bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #not mine #not my post #credit to the author