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#barbarian!bakugou x reader
justauthoring · 5 months
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that cherished feeling.
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it's a feeling you've never felt before, but bakugou shows you just how wonderful it can feel.
a/n: this is the longest oneshot i've ever written and ive been working on this for like a week lol. i really hope you guys enjoy this :)) i love fantasy au's and specifically (1) barbarian!bakugou!
pairing: barbarian!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
word count: 8,010
warnings: parental abuse, death
“Make sure she looks decent enough for him.”
With a frown, you keep your gaze held ahead even as you’re pulled and tugged in all directions without a single care for your own wellbeing. You know to keep silent, hands held tightly before yourself to stop the violent shaking that overwhelms your body caused by the fear that strikes you deep in the heart.
“He’ll be here any moment,” your step-mother continues, voice cruel, “hurry up!” Her words are hissed at the maids that fret around you, bustling about as they pin your hair back and dust makeup across your face to hide the insecurities your mother refuses to let him see. They’ve been at it for hours now, or at least it feels that way, and you’re tired of being poked and prodded at all for the sake of a man who will probably kill you the second he’s done using you.
They’re barbaric..
They fuck and kill and pillage anything within sight.
They’re monsters.
You’ve heard these whispers around the castle your entire life, maids tucked into corners whispering amongst themselves, the cruel words your step-mother has spat to her council plenty of times. Your entire life you’ve heard about how horrible the Adroghar’s are, that they came into power and nobility by killing Kings, Queens, Princes and Princess’ of different lands, stealing money and destroying villages. 
Your entire life, you’ve been terrified of them.
And now, today, you were about to be married off to one – in other words, sold.
Have you heard? The Queen means to sell Y/N off to the King of the Adroghar tribe!
To Bakugou Katsuki? Isn’t he said to be the most ruthless King they’ve ever had in power?
He’ll kill her. Or worse. Certainly.
If it’s for our safety though, I can’t say I care much…
Yes. Our Queen is doing her best to keep us all safe.
Your step-mother has hated you since the day you were born. You were a constant, living, breathing reminder of your father’s indecency towards her and the second he’d died when you were two, she’s made it her goal to remind you of this fact every day of your life. You’ve been beaten, starved, locked away and treated like garbage by every single person you’ve ever known.
You’ve never felt love. Never felt warmth.
Not a single person has ever cared for you.
And now, to stop the Adroghar tribe from trampling on your land, your step-mother has sold you off to appease them. You had no say just like you never have.
“They’re here!”
A knight comes running into the room, flustered as he calls for your mother’s attention. His words make your entire being freeze, breath caught in the back of your throat as the fear makes your muscles tense.
“The Adrogharian tribe is here!”
Everything else happens in the blink of an eye–you’re forced to move, pulled by hands that grip and pinch at you, your corset tightened around your waist and a sheer shawl draped over your face to cover you from view. Before you know it you’re being led into the main hall where quickly the sound of boisterous chatter echoes and bounces around. You keep your head dipped down as your mother ordered you to, hands clasped politely before you as your nails dig and pinch into your skin.
The second the large doors slam behind you, you know your fate is sealed if it hadn’t already been.
Maybe you could’ve run. Maybe you could’ve tried to fight.
But you know it would’ve ended the same either way.
This is how it’s been your entire life.
Your mother stands directly in front of you, blocking you from view, but you let yourself slowly peek upward, through your lashes. You see the tenseness of your mother’s back as she moves to greet your guests, before slowly letting your eyes drift to who will soon be your husband. Katsuki Bakugou. He’s been the King of the Adroghar tribe for a few years now, having taken over after his mother passed–and since then has made quite a name for himself for being one of the most ruthless and cruel Kings to ever grace the Adroghar tribe.
Considering their record of ruthlessness, this fact scared you even more.
He’s tall, buff with wide shoulders and large hands. His hair is a light blonde that sticks out in every direction, unruly on his head and yet it suits his red, piercing eyes that seem as they penetrate your very sole. He’s wearing a cloak lined with fur, his neck decorated with necklaces with what you can only assume is teeth. The fashion of the Adroghar tribe is very different from the customs of your people, as he wears only trousers and no shirt, showing the world his chiseled chest.
He’s both intimidating and terrifying.
“Ah, King Bakugou,” your step-mother calls out, bowing slowly. It’s odd to see your step-mother bend for another, but you also know she’s deathly afraid of the man before her; given that they had the ability to completely wipe all of you out. “Thank you for making the long trip this way.”
Bakugou regards her with narrowed eyes, shoulders set back as he grunts out; “what’s this offer you have for me?”
Your eyes widen, hands clutching your skirt–he didn’t know?
Letting out a nervous laugh, your step-mother nods; “I heard you have yet to take a wife, my King.”
You watch, best you can see, as his lips set into a thin line. “Our traditions are different from your own,” he hisses, “but… yes. I have not.”
“Well, then, my Bakugou, I offer you my daughter in return for the safety of our Kingdom.”
She steps back then, and you tense, nails digging into the palm of your hands hard enough to draw blood as you raise your head just slightly. Bakugou’s eyes fall on you then, narrowed and dark as he regards you, and feels as if he’s peering into your very soul as you stare back at him then.
“Let me see her face.” Bakugou calls, gesturing for you to step forward.
You move to do so, but you can’t get your feet to work. You’re paralyzed with fear, you realize somewhere along the way–terrified of this man in front of you and the men that linger around him, laughing, cheering, all staring at you with the same leering look that fills your stomach with knots and makes it hard to breathe.
You catch your step-mothers gaze when you don’t move and she’s looking at you with wild panic as she gestures for you to step forward.
You can’t.
“Is she mute or just stupid?” Bakugou hisses.
Your eyes widen, and you feel like you might puke.
Your step-mother’s hand is wrapping around your arm in the next second, grip pinching, yanking you forward as a small yelp leaves your lips in response. You’re thrown, losing your footing as you come crashing to your knees directly in front of the King, your step-mother yanking the shawl off of your head in the next second and a new sense of vulnerability washes over you.
Your step-mother had adorned you in incredibly revealing clothing, more skin than you’ve ever shown on display for all of these leering men to see.
Too afraid to raise your head, you let out a whimper, curling into yourself.
You realize your actions could have you killed but you’re too afraid to care.
I’m going to be killed anyway… raped and then killed. What does any of it matter?
A minute passes and then slowly, Bakugou shifts in front of you. Before you know it, he’s kneeling in front of you, and terror strikes at you when you notice his arm move out of the corner of your eyes, flinching, expecting to be hit or worse, maybe he’s reaching for his sword to kill you–but, neither of that happens. You don’t feel pain or a slap across your cheek, instead, the touch is light and gentle despite his coarse skin as Bakugou gently clasps your jaw, moving your gaze upwards and on his own.
It’s the first time you’ve met his gaze head on, but oddly, his eyes don’t seem so intimidating this close.
He stares at you for a moment, a deep frown etched on his face, before his gaze raises, past you and onto your step-mother.
“Do you always treat your own family like this?”
Your eyes widen. Did he just–
“Bu-but my King, she wouldn’t–”
He scoffs, not even letting her finish and your step-mother falls eerily silent as he does. It’s like his entire personality had changed in the split second you’d been thrown to the ground. He shifts, his hands moving to grab you by the arm, but his grip is gentle, just tight enough to pull you up to your feet. You let him, confused and baffled by what was happening, as your arms curl around you to cover yourself, letting him guide you behind him as you turn to face your step-mother.
You don’t see it, too focused on her harsh gaze on you, but something warm is wrapped around your shoulders a moment later and your eyes fall on Bakugou with parted lips as he clasps his cloak around your neck. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes are soft as you grab his cloak gently, gripping the material close to yourself as the warmth envelops you. 
Bakugou turns to face your step-mother, his face dark and his words menacing. “I should have your head for that.”
Her eyes bulge, as do yours—you can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe what’s happening. Never once has anyone stood up for you, and the last person you ever thought that would was the man you��d been sold to. A barbarian. A monster.
Yet, despite everything you’ve been told your entire life, he didn’t didn’t seem like a monster to you at that moment.
Your step-mother sputters over her words, indignation flooding her as she stares back at Bakugou. Then, her eyes drift to yours, gaze cold and steely and you know in that moment, like everything else she’s felt has gone wrong, she blames you entirely.
“She’s just the daughter of a measly prostitute!” Your step-mother bellows, eyes crazed as she loses her composure, voice echoing across the suddenly silent hall. No one says a word as she stands there, huffing with rage. Even Bakugou’s men have fallen eerily silent. 
“She’s just the baby of a whore with not a single claim to the throne,” she laughs, hand reaching out to point towards you. “I was giving you to her as a ruse! She’s nothing more than scum on the underside of my shoe.”
The silence echoes and drags.
It feels like hours of agonizing anticipation as not a single person says anything. You can’t see Bakugou’s face but yours is burning red with the humiliation of your truth being spilled out to everyone, most of all Bakugou. Your step-mother has spent her life reminding you, never once letting you live without hearing similar words in the back of your mind. It wasn’t like your people didn’t know either—maids had spent their life leering down at you and knights had laughed at you anytime you’d drifted past them.
But it’s a new sort of humiliation having it be said in front of Bakugou and his men. 
A minute later, but it feels like eternity, Bakugou finally steps forward. It’s one single step, his wide back thoroughly blocking your view of your step-mother in front of you. It’s one step but he’s standing right in front of your mother, close enough to touch her.
“You should know,” Bakugou starts slowly, voice low. “That your background isn’t a matter of concern in the Adroghar tribe. We don’t care if you’re born from a whore or nobility.”
Your face eases, staring at his bare back.
Then, in the next second, he shifts. It feels like you blink and you miss it. There’s a flash of something red and then the thud of something falling to the ground, before your eyes lower and fall on the head of your step-mother, severed from the rest of her body. Her now lifeless eyes stare back at you, lips left parted from her attempt to scream before Bakugou beheaded her—but she never got the chance. 
“Kill the rest of them,” Bakugou orders, turning to face you, a streak of blood across his cheek.
Everyone?
He wanted to kill everyone?
“Here!”
Small hands are thrust in your face, gripping onto the delicate, beautifully made flower crown and behind the hands, rest a beaming face, staring up at you with twinkling eyes.
“For the princess.”
But– the children…
“P-Please!” You’re speaking before you realize it, your voice squeaking in panic as you step towards Bakugou. Your arm pulls out from beneath the large, heavy cloak he’d draped over you seconds ago, meeting his eyes imploringly. “The v-villagers! The children! Please, spare them.”
Bakugou turns to you, shocked eyes falling on you.
You take his expression as one of anger and with a cry, you fall to your knees, holding your hands out before you. “Please, my K-King. Spare the villagers. They’re… they’re innocent.”
A moment of silence passes. Your face is turned towards the ground, forehead all but pressed against the cold stoned floor, shaking as flashes of that sweet, innocent little girl smiling at you surface in your mind. They don’t deserve to die. You don’t care about the rest of them–not your mother who laid dead and beheaded a few feet in front of you and not the maids or the guards who have leered and laughed and tortured you your entire life. But the villagers–the children don’t deserve to die.
“Spare the villagers,” Bakugou orders, and your eyes widen, the beige of the floor flooding your vision. “But kill the rest.”
He–
“Stand up.” Hands fall on your arms, tugging you back to your feet as you stare at Bakugou bewildered. His face is blank, but there’s a hint of something in his eyes you just can’t quite make out. “If you are to be my Queen, I cannot have you on your knees. Not for anyone, including me.”
It seems the customs of the Adroghar tribe are much different than your own, the thought occurs to you. But it isn’t this fact that baffles you. It’s the fact that he calls you his Queen…
He–he still wants to marry you?
“I was promised a bride,” Bakugou calls out, as if he’d heard your thoughts and it’s the first hint of a smile you see on his face as he glances down at you. “I intend to have one.”
-
You stare at the licks of the fire before you, eyes watching the dance of the flames that heat your cheeks.  
In the dead of the night, Bakugou’s men are as loud as ever. They cheer and laugh around the fire a few feet away from you, some bustling about as they feed the horses and make sure everything is in order for travel tomorrow. 
You’d all only travelled for a few hours before Bakugou had called for you all to stop for rest. His men had seemed confused and you yourself had expected to travel for longer given that it had still been quite bright out at the time–but Bakugou had just brushed off the questioning gazes of his men and had helped you off the horse you’d been riding with him. His grip was gentle as he guided you to your feet, ordered his men to prepare a fire for you and then left you there once it was done.
You hadn’t seen him since.
You held his cloak which was still wrapped around your shoulders tightly, your grip tight as every step that sounded just a little too close made you flinch. You were confused and dazed by the events of the day, still not even sure if you’d properly registered what had happened. Your step-mother was dead, murdered in front of you, and now the rest of your family and all of your servants are dead as well. 
You’d expected Bakugou to reject the marriage at the end of it all but…
I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.
And yet he’d said those words so softly, with an odd warmth to them. Yet, you’d be taken with him as he left your castle, the only home you’ve ever known, placed on his horse right in front of him and now staring at a fire in his people’s camp. Yet, you were meant to follow him all the way back to his home and marry him.
Just how has your life changed so much in such a short amount of time?
“Have you eaten anything?”
Gasping lightly at the voice, your head snaps upwards, wide eyes falling on Bakugou’s. He’s stepping towards you, a plate in his hands as he makes his way to sit beside you on the small cot his men had prepared for you. Your eyes watch as he moves, not having properly registered his question as he takes a seat directly beside you. His leg brushes against your own and you hug his cloak tighter to yourself, body tensing.
“Sorry,” he mumbles gruffly, having caught your reaction. He pulls his leg away and then holds the plate out in front of you. “Are you hungry?”
Your eyes dance across the food on the plate, puzzled by the sight. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.
“All that’s… for me?”
Bakugou’s eyes flicker to the plate, raising a brow; “yes?”
“O-oh, thank you,” with shaky hands, you grab the plate, setting it down on your lap. You feel Bakugou’s eyes on you as you ponder what to try first. It’s not just the amount of the food on the plate, it looks much different than anything you’ve ever seen back at home. You may not have been fed much and whilst you usually were given scraps, you know that this is very different to the traditional food your people eat.
Tentatively, you reach out, taking a bit of it in between your fingers once you notice the lack of utensils and place it in your mouth. Instantly, you're hit with a wave of flavour you’ve never tasted before. Your eyes widen as the taste floods your entire mouth, eyes gleaming with delight as you let out a small moan without thinking.
Bakugou chuckles beside you.
Your eyes fall on him, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Never tried Adrograhian food before, I take it?”
You shake your head, “that and… well, I’ve never had something so… full of flavour.”
Bakugou blinks, the smile fading from his lips as you turn away, trying to ignore the look on his face as you place your attention back on the food. The two of you sit in silence as you eat the rest of the food, perhaps eating faster and bit more messier than Bakugou probably would’ve expected from you–but you’ve never tasted something so decedent nor had so much food to eat all for yourself. 
When he doesn’t punish you the first few times for shoving your mouth full, you figure it’s alright too.
“Thank you,” you call out to him once the food is done, your voice a soft whisper as you smile softly over at him. “Thank you.” You bow your head.
“There’s no need to do that,” Bakugou calls out in a rush, shaking his head. “You don’t… I won’t… hurt you.”
Blinking, you stare at him, lips left parted.
Distantly, you notice red across his cheeks but Bakugou is standing before you can get a better look, pushing himself to his feet before turning, back facing you. “Get some rest,” he grunts, “we have a long day of travel ahead of us tomorrow.”
You watch him walk off, watch as his back grows further and further away, until you’re once again left alone. Except, this time you don’t feel so lonely. 
A small smile curls onto your lips as his words echo in your mind.
I won’t hurt you.
-
Adroghar is beautiful and unlike anything you’ve ever heard.
You’re not sure what you expected, but tall, ornate buildings with intricate and detailed designs across them all are not what you expected. There’s people everywhere, bustling about, and cheers echo as Bakugou comes marching through with the rest of his men, smiles on their faces as they reach out towards him, celebrating his return.
It isn’t barbaric.
And it isn’t poor and littered and destroyed like you expected.
It’s… lively and warm and inviting.
“So, this is the famous daughter of Cassian Heinrich.”
The second Bakugou pulls you off his horse and sets you onto your feet, you’re grabbed by a pair of hands and pulled into a bright smiling face that beams back at you. It’s a woman, her eyes twinkling with delight and her skin pink and her hair the same colour. She’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and you’re shocked, confused by this sudden demanding presence but yet, as you meet her eyes, there’s only warmth staring back at you.
“Oi,” Bakugou calls out, a hand resting on your shoulder as his other hand moves to the girl and yanks her back. “Don’t bombard her like that.”
“Whatever, Bakugou,” the woman scoffs, brushing him off with a wave of the hand.
Your eyes widen at the action–isn’t he the King?
Just who is this woman to regard him so casually?
You half expect Bakugou to kill her for her lack of respect towards him, but as your eyes flutter toward him, you’re bewildered as he simply just scoffs, a light smile on his head as he shakes his head.
“Mina,” Bakugou calls after a moment.
Mina. What a pretty name.
“Hm?” she hums, eyes flickering lazily to glance at him.
“Could you please help Y/N bathe and find some clothes for her to wear?” Bakugou calls out, gesturing to you. “Make sure to wash that shit off her face.”
You pause at his words, eyes flickering to the ground as you distantly reach towards your face. It wasn’t that you thought you were particularly beautiful, if anything, you’d always thought you were quite ugly and your mother had reminded you often that you were. But… but you’d hoped maybe Bakugou had thought differently.
That maybe he’d seen something in you.
Had the makeup your mother had put you made you look worse?
“You really don’t know how to talk to women, Bakugou,” Mina scoffs, stepping towards her as she pulls her arm, tucking you into her side. You stare at her, blinking, before glancing over at Bakugou who stares back, baffled. “Don’t worry,” Mina sings, smiling brightly at you as you slowly put your attention back on her. “Let’s get you bathed and cleaned, all right?”
You nod, slowly, staring back at Bakugou who watches you leave.
Oddly, you don’t want to leave his side.
-
Mina was chatty.
Very.
The entire time she bathes you, washes your face and hair and dresses you, she barely stops speaking.
It’s comforting, in an odd way. She fills in the silence where you can’t find the words, too overwhelmed by everything to know what to say. 
She’s gentle, too. Where the maids back home had pulled and prodded, sneering at you as they reluctantly helped bathed you–it was rare, only on special occasions where your mother needed you for appearances but you’d always dreaded it. They were cruel and harsh and mean and everything in between.
Mina is none of that.
You even smile as she tells you stories about Bakugou. Apparently the two of them have known each other since they were children–them and a few others that Mina tells you about and assures you’ll meet soon.
Once cleaned, dried and dressed, she politely excuses herself, assuring you Bakugou will arrive shortly. You’re left startled when she distantly informs you that it’s Bakugou’s room you’ve been led to but she’s gone before you can say anything otherwise, so, once again left alone, you take a seat on the edge of his bed, not sure what to do.
Your eyes drift across the room, but you don’t dare move.
His room is rather vacant but large. There’s a huge bed, fur carpets draped across the floors and the bed, some swords lined on the wall and a set of armor tucked away in the corner, along with a desk scattered with papers right across from you. It’s everything you would’ve expected from a man like Bakugou.
Still, it makes you feel like you learn just a little about him.
You jump as the door slams open, body freezing as Bakugou comes barelling in. There's a nasty look on his face and it’s like he doesn’t notice you as he strides right past you, throwing a piece of paper onto the desk across from the bed. Your entire body tenses, shoulders straightening as you hesitate, unsure if you should say something or not.
But before you can make the decision, Bakugou’s red, piercing eyes are on you.
However, in an instant, the anger in his eyes is gone. Instead, his gaze softens, eyes wide with pure shock at the sight of you.
“I… I told Mina to lead you to a spare room,” Bakugou explains, “I wasn’t expecting you.”
You move to stand; “I-I can leave–”
“No,” Bakugou calls out, crossing the distance between you in seconds as he reaches for you. You pause, not daring to move as his hand hovers in front of you, instinctively flinching–he halts the second you do, panicked. Your eyes meet his, and you stare, both of you silent, before your gaze flickers to his hand, and you nod.
His fingers brush against the skin of your cheek, eyes dancing across your face.
“You look… beautiful.”
It’s not what you expected. 
It never would’ve been what you expected.
No… no one has ever called you beautiful.
“They covered you with all that makeup,” he continues, voice soft. “But now that I can really see you… you’re beautiful, Y/N.”
Your eyes stare at his cheeks warming.
“You… you really think that?”
He frowns, “yes,” and there isn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice.
Tentatively, unsure, you raise your hand, setting it over his own. “No one has ever called me that before.”
“Beautiful?”
You nod.
The frown deepens, and Bakugou wants to say more but all he says instead is; “well, you are.”
You smile up at him. Soft, gentle and demure. But there’s so much feeling behind the smile, portraying every bit of emotion Bakugou has made you feel in the short amount of time you've been with him.
“Thank you.”
And he stares back, unsure of the feelings coursing through him–he’d had every intention of denying your mother’s proposal, of slaughtering them all and you included. When he’d first seen you, he’d scoffed at the sight of you, dressed in fine silk that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, your face covered as it was tradition for your people. You’d look skittish, curled into yourself, head bowed and Bakugou couldn’t deny that in that moment, he’d felt nothing.
Not a single thing towards you.
And then your mother had grabbed you and tossed you to his feet, ripping the shawl off your face and Bakugou can’t quite explain it but… something had changed.
Everything had changed.
He thinks back to the conversation he’d had with one of his men just minutes before entering his room, about what was expected of him.
“You must consummate your marriage.”
Bakugou sighs, “I’ve told you, Sero, I have no intention of–”
“Why’d you take her back with us if you had no intention of giving her a child?”
Narrowing his eyes, Bakugou turns to look at the man standing across from him. “Did you expect me to just leave her there? With her family's blood across the walls and no one to take care of her?”
Sero pauses, face twisting into an expression of bewilderment; “I expected you to kill her like the rest of them. She’s just an ordinary human.”
Bakugou can’t rightly explain it but rage seethes through his body at Sero’s word. He’s crossing the distance over to him in seconds, wrapping a hand around the man’s throat and squeezing with a manic look in his face.
“Don’t talk about her like that.”
To his credit, Sero doesn’t falter; “I don’t understand why this girl means so much to you.”
Swallowing thickly, Bakugou huffs, pulling away as he spins, scoffing. “I don’t know,” he mutters, frustrated at his own lack of understanding. Sero was right. You were just an ordinary woman, apparently born from an illegitimate relationship. You had no special qualities, had been raised as a noble by the looks of it–you were skittish and quiet and jumpy and nothing special. 
Bakugou was the King of the Adroghar tribe. He had dragon’s blood coursing through his veins, had strength unheard of and the endurance and ability of a warrior. He’s been raised to be a King, to take charge, to pillage and kill and take what he wants without a single care for anyone else.
Most of all, everyone expected him to pick an Adrogharian woman to marry.
Not a human.
Not you.
“I’m heading to my tent,” Bakugou grunts, “make sure I am left alone.”
“Bakugou?”
Blinking, Bakugou is pulled from his thoughts at the sound of your soft voice calling for him.
He leans back when he realizes you’ve leaned forward, concern etched in your eyes as you stare up at him. It’s instinctive the way his eyes trail lower, and he does it without thought, eyes drifting across your soft, supple skin, taking note of the dress Mina had dressed you in; it was thin, the edges hemmed with lace and rather sheer.
Instantly, he feels his face warm.
You must consummate your marriage tonight.
“You may sleep here tonight,” Bakugou suddenly calls out in a rush, pushing himself off the bed and turning so his back is facing you. “I will sleep somewhere else.”
He’s opening the door before you can say anything, calling out a short ‘goodnight’ over his shoulder before the door slams shut behind him. You jump as he does, lips curving down as he leaves you, once again, all by yourself.
He must’ve been repulsed, you can’t help but think despite his words.
There’s no way a man like him could think you were beautiful.
-
It’s been a few days since Bakugou took you home and you haven’t seen him once since that night.
Your days are mostly spent in the company of Mina and a handful of maids that Bakugou had assigned to you. Despite the sense of familiarity you slowly develop each day, there’s a nag at the back of your mind at Bakugou’s lack of presence–you weren’t sure what you had done, but whatever it had been clearly had been enough to cause him to avoid you.
Today’s the first day Mina has left you alone, with the excuse that there are duties she’s been neglecting that she must attend to. You brush aside her worries, assuring her that it’s alright and spend the first hour of your morning sitting in Bakugou’s room, basically doing nothing. You expected Bakugou to have you assigned to your own room since that first night he left you, given that after all this was his room you were sleeping in–but he never did and still not really knowing your way around the castle completely and not being told otherwise, you remain there.
Then again, the lack of Mina or even your handmaids, makes the experience incredibly more lonely.
You’re bored.
Incredibly so.
So, you ignore the fear striking your heart, still unsure of the limits that were expected of you, and leave his room. The whole thing is one huge maze, but eventually you find yourself outside, tucked away into a huge field lined by a huge forest, with a cave directly in the middle of it. There isn’t a single person around, and everything is entirely silent; you can hear the wind brush through the glass and leaves, can hear your footsteps as you walk and can hear your own heart racing madly against your chest.
It’s beautiful. Everything you’ve seen since arriving here has been beautiful but this… little alcove is gorgeous.
Smiling softly to yourself, you crouch, letting your hands drift across the grass, enjoying the feeling of it against your skin. This is the most freedom you’ve ever felt your entire life and you’ve never been allowed to just explore without the prying eyes of your mother watching your back, staring you down with judgement and hatred.
It’s a new feeling and one you rejoice in, laughing quietly to yourself.
But you’re quickly pulled out of your own little world at the sound of thud, one that rumbles underneath your feet. It causes you to jump, body tensing in fear, head snapping upwards, only for your eyes to fall on… a dragon.
It’s… huge.
It towers over you, a great, large beast that steps out from beneath the confines of the cave, dazzling red scales and eyes that stare right back at you. Oddly, you’re not afraid–you’re frozen in the spot, standing there as it steps towards you, hands limp by your sides and you can’t find it within you to move or walk or do anything but… but you’re not afraid. This dragon could kill you in seconds and it’s one of the most intimidating creatures you’ve ever seen, but you feel comfort as it stares back at you.
You’d known dragons had existed and somewhere in the back of your mind you’d known that the Adrogharian tribe was famous for being dragon tamers–but you’ve never seen one in person.
It… snorts? You’re not sure. Its mouth opens and a noise you’ve never quite heard before comes out, a brush of strong wind hitting you directly in the face, nearly knocking you off your feet.
And then, somehow, you find yourself laughing.
It's the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen
Distantly wondering if you’re crazy, you step forward, small, tentative steps until you’re directly in front of the dragon. Its snout is within reach, and slowly, you raise your hand, eyes flickering from its snout to its eyes, hesitant, before you let your hand fall on the front of its snout. Your hand barely covers any of the dragon, the sheer size of it massive compared to you but its scales are coarse and rough beneath the soft touch of your fingers.
Then, ever so slightly, you watch as its eyes fall shut and he pushes, gently, toward your hand.
“Oh,” you call softly, “nice to meet you too, dragon. My name is Y/N.”
It lets out a gruff, and you pull back with a laugh as it shakes its head.
“His name is Kirishima.”
A yelp leaves your lips as you spin, eyes falling on that of Bakugou who’s stood in front of you.
Panic strikes you, worried he’ll be mad you left his castle or worse, that you even left his room. Swallowing thickly, you step towards him, hands held out before you; “my K-King, I-I–”
“He normally doesn’t like new faces,” Bakugou cuts in gently, sending you a smile as he steps forward, turning his head towards the dragon. He reaches forward and the dragon, Kirishima, nudges its snout towards Bakugou, knocking into him far more aggressively than he had you. Bakugou barely nudges, staying strongly rooted to the spot as he pats Kirishima, before letting his eyes fall back on you. 
“My King, I just wanted to get some fresh air, I–”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Bakugou assures, “everything within the castle is yours.”
Every tense muscle in your body eases, shoulders falling with disbelief.
“I wanted to introduce you to Kirishima,” Bakugou continues, smiling over at his dragon. “We’ve known each other since we were children. He’s very important to me.”
Letting your eyes fall on Kirishima, you flush; “and you wanted to introduce him to me?”
“Of course,” Bakugou assures with ease, nodding. “Isn’t it normally to share these things with your wife?”
Biting your lip, you glance at your feet; “I wasn’t sure you still… thought of me that way…”
Bakugou frowns, “I apologize for disappearing for a few days. I was preparing a surprise for you.”
Turning to him, surprised, your lips part; “a surprise?”
“Yes,” he smiles gently at you. “For tonight. Mina will help you prepare as well.”
-
“A picnic?”
Bakugou’s cheeks are bright red as he stares back at you.
“Do you not like it?”
Gathering your skirt, you shake your head, moving to sit in front of Bakugou. You’d wondered why Mina had dressed you in such light, airy clothes, a pretty pale pink colour as she fretted over making sure your hair was back and out of your face. It made sense now, you realize, that she’d gone to such lengths.
All for a picnic Bakugou had prepared.
“I love it,” you admit with a gentle smile, voice still quiet as you nod at him. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Mina helped me,” he explains, looking entirely too uncomfortable for something that was his plan. He’s sat across from you, one knee up which he rests his arm on, but his face is still burning red and it’s like he can’t meet your gaze properly as he explains. “I know nothing about wooing a woman.”
Before you know it, you’re laughing.
Bakugou’s eyes snap to yours, turning red even further (if that was even possible) as you quickly press your hands to your lips, trying to muffle the giggle.
It doesn’t help.
“Are you laughing at me?” Bakugou asks incredulously, eyes bulging. 
You shake your head, despite how blatant of a lie that is. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, biting your lip as you smile over at him. “It’s just… are you trying to woo me?”
Pausing, Bakugou meets your eyes before quickly turning away. “Maybe,” he mutters, before his shoulders fall. “Yes. Is it working?”
Leaning forward, you shift, brushing your skirt under you as you get more comfortable. “Yes,” you assure. “I just didn’t expect that. Most men would’ve just married me, regardless of whether I wanted to or not.”
Bakugou stares at you. “Is that how it’s like with your people?”
You glance at the array of food, pleasantly happy when you recognize a few fruits you used to love as a little girl–it’s been ages since you’ve been allowed to taste the sweetness of a strawberry.
“Yes,” you explain, as if it’s normal. “If I were… not an illegitimate daughter, I probably would’ve been arranged to marry a few years ago.”
You pause, however, when you see the look of bafflement on Bakugou’s face.
“I mean,” you start, slowly. “That’s why my step-mother reached out to you, remember?”
You watch as Bakugou swallows thickly. “I didn’t know until I got there and I-I… well, what I said… I didn’t mean it.”
Your brows furrow before it clicks in your mind.
I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.
Lips parting, you blink at him owlishly.
“I wouldn’t ever force you to marry me.”
Hands moving to fall in your lap, you force yourself to utter the words; “and… if I said I wanted to?”
Bakugou shifts; “marry me?”
You meet his eyes nervously, nodding. “Yes.”
“Then… I’d say… I’d love to.”
The instant relief that floods you is comforting, the smile curling onto your face once more at his reassurance. “I would be honoured,” you grin over at him, “I’ve felt that way since you took me with you.”
Reaching forward, Bakugou takes your hand in his own; “it’s I who feels honoured.”
-
You were dressed in a beautiful white gown, decorated with lace and delicate designs sewn into the material. It cinched at the waist and reached the floor, with a trail that followed behind you. Your hair had been twisted and braided and pulled up into a hairstyle similar to the ones you used to wear as a little girl. 
It was exactly like the style you’d grown up with and completely different from the Adrogharian traditions you’ve grown accustomed to. The only thing missing was the makeup across the face but you hadn’t argued when Mina had purposely avoided applying any–it brought both comfort and despair to you, staring back at your reflection through the mirror in front of you.
You… felt beautiful.
More than you ever had.
And it reminded you of home–of your childhood and brought a sense of comfort and familiarity to those early years of your life when your father had still been alive, memories of things you didn’t all together remember given how young you were but was a sense of nostalgia you rejoiced in. Before it had all been stolen from you cruelly and your step-mother had made it her goal to ruin you.
In that way, at the same time, it also reminded you of everything that had been stolen from you the second he’d died.
It was bittersweet and yet, it was the sweetest, kindest thing any single person had ever done for you and you cherished it.
“Are you ready?”
Turning to Mina, you nod.
You're led out of the room and down a few halls, until eventually the warm night air surrounds you. The sight before you astonishes you. Rows and rows of Bakugou’s men, all split in the middle where a path of flowers lay and at the end of it rests Bakugou, adorned in a regal shirt and trousers, so opposite of his normal attire. It looks odd on him in the same way he looks incredibly handsome.
And the realization sinks in then.
This is your wedding.
It had come to mind before given the dress but you weren’t sure, especially since Bakugou had talked about it but never beyond that initial conversation. You also figured that the wedding would be done in Adrogharian tradition.
This though? Made everything clear.
You turn to look at Mina who smiles brightly at you, clasping your arm in her own as she slowly starts to lead you down the aisle. Everyone’s eyes are on you, watching you but your attention is solely focused on Bakugou standing in front of you, hands clasped in front of him as he watches you grow closer and closer.
And then, suddenly you’re in front of him.
“Is… all this for me?” You whisper, clasping at your skirt nervously.
“Yes,” he nods, slowly, a nervous expression crossing his face. “Is… is it too much?”
You shake your head; “no,” you smile gently, “no this is… perfect.”
“Good.” His face eases instantly, and then, he tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Because this shirt is incredibly itchy and I’m wearing it for you.”
Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. It bursts from your lips, your hand instantly raising to cover your mouth as you giggle, glancing down at your feet. Bakugou stares at you as you laugh, never having heard the sound before, before he reaches forward, tilting your head upward by the chin.
He’s smiling gently down at you, his gaze the softest you’ve ever seen.
“Shall we get married?”
-
His touch is gentle–hesitant.
You can hear every breath he takes as you stare up at him, hands hovering before yourself.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” he whispers, using his arm to hold himself up. You’re splayed across his bed, the sleeve of your wedding dress slipping down the side of your shoulder, revealing bare skin that stares up at him mockingly. 
He wants you–but he won’t force you.
Pressing your hands against his chest, you try to ignore the shake of your body; “it’s not… that I don’t want to,” you confess despite the flush across your cheeks and the heat soaring through your body. “I just… I’m afraid.”
“Of me?”
And his voice comes out quiet, scared. You barely catch it but it’s there, eyes flickering up to meet him as he stares back at you, concern etched into his face.
“No,” you assure, shaking your head. “No, not of you.”
He leans back, shifting so he’s sat back and you follow his movements, pushing yourself up to face him properly. Your hands fall limp in your lap as you stare down at them, clutching at your skin tightly as nerves well inside of you, make your chest tighten and your body tense with anxiety.
“Then…”
“My K-King–”
“Katsuki,” he cuts in, reaching for you. “Call me Katsuki.”
You pause. “Katsuki… before you, I'd never known love.” The words are uttered with pain, hands moving to hold yourself as you turn away from him, embarrassed. But you wanted him to know. Wanted him to understand. “My father died when I was just a little girl and the second he was gone, my mother spent the rest of my life torturing me. I was tucked away, kept hidden from people while she beat me, starved me and told me how I would… never measure up to anything.
“The day you came, she had every intention of selling me to you as a bargain piece for the safety of herself. And she expected you to kill me.”
Licking your lips, you turn to face him.
“That or worse.”
He stares at you, lips left parted with the hesitance of uncertainty. 
“I expected the same,” you whisper, “but now I know you’re not like that. That you’re not some ruthless, barbaric man but you have a heart and your people love you. You’ve given me more happiness than I’ve ever felt and made me feel love for the first time since my father died… I’m not scared of you, I’m scared that once you see me–truly see me, I’ll lose you.”
There’s a beat of silence before Bakugou is leaning towards you. His hands fall on your waist and suddenly you’re falling back against the bed with a light huff of shock, eyes flickering up to meet his own that hover above you. He’s smiling, you realize, but there’s anger in his eyes–yet, it’s not directed at you.
There’s rage burning in his irises and you feel safe because of it.
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he confesses. “The second I saw your face that day, my world lit up. I want to kill every person who’s ever hurt you, if I haven’t already. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make you forget about everything.”
You feel your heart quicken, his words echoing in your mind as you stare up at him and see only sincerity staring back at you.
His words are warm and loving and they make you feel like your skin is on fire, a lit with a sensation you’ve never felt. Love pours from his words and he stares at you like you’re the only person that matters–that you're the only person who exists in this world for him.
He envelopes you completely and you relish in it.
“Nothing could ever make me think otherwise.”
Reaching up, you cup his cheeks, fingers brushing against the skin before holding him, the edges of your lips quirked up with a soft, gentle smile..
“You really mean that?”
He nods, thumbs pressing into the pads of your hips, as his eyes dance across your face. “More than anything.”
“Okay then,” you laugh lightly, “then I give myself to you.”
He blinks, lips parting.
“Everything.”
And the surprise fades, replaced by pleasure as he leans forward, the ghost of his lips brushing against your own.
“And I give you the same in return.”
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pamgkrthwrites · 6 months
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I can’t help but imagine Barbarian!Bakugou having woman in this tribe/clan really upset he married you. Their upset because they wanted to be wife Bakugou but no, he got a pretty Princess wife who isn’t even a barbarian to be his wife.
One woman in particular is so upset about it that she’s told other tribes that “Katsuki Bakugou married an ogre of a wife just to have peace relations”. She uses the fact that very few people have seen you. Which is actually because Bakugou got you pregnant out of wedlock and you didn’t want anyone to know.
The first time Bakugou hears of this rumour is at a tribal meeting, when a another chief of a different tribe says “I feel bad for you, Bakugou. I would even imagine myself marrying an ugly woman like your wife.”
The man’s head is cut off within two seconds.
Bakugou tries his best to keep the nasty rumour from you, but once you hear it you are distraught. It’s makes it harder for you to leave your shared tent. Bakugou has to beg you to even sit up in bed your that upset.
It’s put Bakugou in the worsts of moods for everyone else.
It’s only when your 8 months pregnant do people of his tribe see you, with pregnant belly. People can connect the dots. This pregnant woman leaving the tent of their chief and her pregnant belly is the size of roughly how long said chief has been married? Nothing else needed to be said.
You feel so self conscious that people are staring at you, making you fear you really are that ugly. Please are only staring because your pretty as a goddess and your pregnant!
So when you meet a chief of another tribe, all he does is softly chuckle and goes. “Sorry- I wasn’t expecting such a pretty thing. Didn’t think you’d be an angel.”
Bakugou on one hand is possessive as fuck but on the other sees how you aren’t taking the compliment seriously. He tries his best to reassure you that you are the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
It’s only after once your daughter is born so you start not caring what people think how you looks, because looking at your daughter!
Her face lights up your world and no one can take that from you.
Of course, Bakugou still isn’t happy some spread around that ogre rumour and started trying ti find whoever started it. Once he finds out it’s a woman from his tribe who tried winning him over, he is fuming. Leaves a nasty scar down her face as punishment.
Whenever he goes out now, he brags about how his beautiful wife blessed his eyes with a beautiful daughter. And if anyone tries to disagree his sword is out.
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lolita-lollipop · 4 months
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YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER
The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?
WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)
He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.
It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.
Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.
That was, until you came along.
Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.
“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.
He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.
“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.
He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.
The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.
He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.
That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.
He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-
What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.
“It's her, the traitor!”
“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”
“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”
You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.
He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.
Red red red red red red red red red
He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,
Red
He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted
Red
He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red
He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.
You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.
You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die
Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.
But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.
“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.
“Don’t you worry baby,
I’ll take good care of ya”
———————————————————————
Cute
Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.
Love you all, make sure to have a great day!
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slut-katsuki-bakugo · 2 months
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The kind of hold this man has on me
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gglitch1dd · 8 days
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King Katsuki x Courtesan Reader Snippet
So... I realised I forgot Katsuki's birthday and that's one of the only days I write something for him. But to be fair... I don't care about Katsuki but its a yearly tradition so I guess I gotta do something for the blond pomeranian.
SO yall remember the Breedingtober thing where Katsuki was supposed to have a one-shot where it was king Katsuki x Courtesan reader? Yah that.
I'll work on finishing that as my atonement to all the Bakugou stans.
Here's a snippet for yall. Hopefully its done by the end of the week.
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Katsuki walked into the building with his men. The beautiful building was filled with sweet fruity fragrances. He pushed past the hanging lace that was around the entrance way. It revealed the one thing Katsuki’s men had been begging to stop in while they rode back to the capital. It was something that Katsuki wanted to outright deny but Eijiro had done a good job persuading him into trying to “Keep moral up”.
When Katsuki agreed, he didn’t think that would mean visiting the pleasure district.
The pleasure house had beautiful welcomers that bowed before them, motioning towards an old lady who sat in front, leading further into the elaborate building. She sat with her eyes closed, her hands on her lap as she seemed content, despite the place she was currently in. Her blue eyes opened as she looked to the warriors in front of her. “Evening, gentlemen. How can I assist you?” She asked, moving to shuffle onto her feet.
Eijiro, the highest ranking military general of his armed forces, stepped forward. He had an easy smile on his face like always. He motioned over to Katsuki. “I would like to introduce, his majesty, Emperor Bakugou Katsuki, as well as his royal first legion.” He motioned to the rest of the men that had come with the two of them. “We would like to implore your…” Eijiro hesitated as two girls, from the way they were dressed in lighter paler colours, with their hairs done up with hairpins, were clearly courtesans in training. They giggled at the sight of the officers and highest ranking noble. Eijiro looked back at the old lady with a glint in his eyes. He motioned behind him. “your institution’s services for the night.”
Coming out from behind them all was a chest filled with gold, carried in by two of the squires that were travelling with them. The lady’s grey eyebrows raised in surprise, her eyes looking down at the contents in front of her. Her eyes flicked to Eijiro who held a smirk on his face, knowing that the only currency that places like this spoke was in gold.
The old lady grinned and motioned to the room to her right. “You are more than welcomed to stay as long as you please, your majesty.” She bowed, allowing them further into the pleasure house.
Katsuki rolled his eyes as he stepped forward to the room that she had motioned to. To say that Katsuki didn’t want to be here would be an understatement. He wanted to be farthest away from here. He wanted to be on his horse being closer to the palace than further away. The battle that happened on his Eastern border was more taxing than he thought it would be. It was the last thing he needed but it was a great distraction. It kept him out of that stuffy palace and back with a sword in his hand.
It also kept him away from his wife.
“Eijiro, this better not be a waste of my gold.” Katsuki spoke as his crimson gaze moved back to his taller best friend and most trusted comrade.
The redheaded military officer chuckled as he rolled his shoulders. “Your majesty, this is supposed to be our celebration of our great victory.” He reminded the blond emperor. Were they alone, Eijiro would have called him by his first name, however with so many eyes and ears around, Eijiro chose the safer route.
Katsuki tsked as he moved towards the front. This seemed to be a greeting area, where they would receive more higher ranking guests. It would make sense from the red fully stuffed pillows, silks, laces and the incense being burned and wafted into the air. Katsuki scoffed as he motioned down to the front of the rows of pillows. Another pillow was brought, placing it on top of that one. Katsuki finally sat down unceremoniously, his hands on his knees as he stared forward with a scowl.
“Aww come on, Emperor.” Sero spoke up this time, sitting on the other side of him while Eijiro sat to the left of Katsuki. He spoke with an eased back straight smile. “You’ve been so tense ever since you got married, it’s time for you to live a little. Just like we used to before you got crowned.” He reminded the blond.
The good old days.
Something Katsuki missed more than anything. A time where he was fighting for his throne, where he had blood and dirt under his nails, a sword always resting on his hip and a tan from the hot sun that shone down on him. It was perfect to him. With nothing but his close friends around him and a burning fire reminding Katsuki of all he lost and all he would gain back again.
Now as Emperor, although Katsuki accepted and enjoyed the extravagance of his life, he missed his old one.
“Speaking of which,” Denki started to speak as he moved to sit beside Sero. “I’m sure a certain Empress Ochaco will be more than happy to see you, your majesty.” He spoke with one of those stupid smirks on his face.
Katsuki tried to bite back a groan at the thought of Ochaco. She was a good looking woman that was for sure with a good body and she did what a wife was supposed to, Hell, she was a great empress even. The only problem was…
Katsuki couldn’t seem to give more than half a fuck about her.
It wasn’t Ochaco’s fault. Not in the slightest. Katsuki just couldn’t find it within himself to see her as anything more than what she was. A woman who got sold through an agreement made by her father so that Katsuki could win the war. She never desired Katsuki nor did she ever see a need to do anything more beyond her wifely duties to him should he wish. She was a great empress when she wasn’t annoying the living daylights out of him. But she wasn’t Katsuki’s woman.
Which was probably why he felt little to nothing about the fact that he was about to entertain whores in a pleasure house tonight and return to her tomorrow.
Katsuki closed his eyes and fought back a scowl unsuccessfully. He really was tense. “Where’s that old woman!?” He asked loudly now that all of them were seated.
A low chuckle came as the old woman walked from a side corridor over to them. She moved towards the men, moving to stand at a wall. “I apologise, your majesty. I was fetching my girls.” She informed him. “Now, of course, since you have graced us with your presence, your majesty, you will be the first to choose from my highest-ranking courtesans.” She motioned to where she had come from.
Walking in from the hidden sides were a group of five women, all more beautiful, curvaceous and enticing than the last. They carefully sat down on their knees, their bosoms nearly spilling out of their dresses and their make-up perfectly complementing their complexion. Katsuki’s eyebrows eased at the sheer beauty in front of him. No wonder his men were so eager to be here. He had heard from them about how this was the best pleasure house in the entire kingdom and was hesitant to believe them, however looking at his options, he wasn’t surprised.
There was one, that did catch Katsuki’s attention more than anyone else.
You sat in the middle of them all, your eyes looking straight at Katsuki almost as if you weren’t afraid to look at death straight in the eyes. You had this stare that had something brewing inside Katsuki immediately. It made him feel like he was suffocating, like he couldn’t breathe under your scrutiny. You were by far the most beautiful out of all of them. Not by looks but just by your presence. Your eyes scanned over his front line highest ranking officers. Each one of them stiffening under your gaze, blushes blooming to their cheeks.
Your eyes finally settled back on Katsuki. You bowed your head, moving your hands in front of you as you lowered your head, bowing down towards the floor. “Your majesty, the honour is ours.” You all spoke but Katsuki only wanted to hear from you.
“Now, you can pick any of the-”
“That one.” Katsuki pointed a single finger towards you. His crimson eyes stayed honed on you. “I want that one.”
-Glitch1d
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heli-writes · 2 months
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A dragon's heart - Masterlist
Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader
Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.
Heli's Masterlist
Part 1,
Part 2,
Part 3,
Part 4,
Part 5,
Part 6,
Part 7,
Part 8,
Part 9,
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12 (coming soon)
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Text
Barbarian! Bakugou who loves to torture you, the eldest child of one of his parent’s advisors.
As a kid, he loved to pop up behind you, out of bushes, around corners, just to hear you shriek and then he’d run off laughing. Tug on your hair until you’d bat at him.
As a teen, he was no better, galloping his horse entirely too close to you as he passed, jamming a chair in front of your door so you were late to the lessons you shared with him.
And as an adult? God, he was insufferable. His pranks weren’t so physical anymore, not aiming to make you shriek. He just liked bothering you, loved getting a rise out of you as you tried to study, his heavy boots sprawled across your desk as he sat in your chair. He loved your sharp tongue, grinning widely when you’d mutter our complaints over being his advisor one day.
You never understood why the women around the palace and kingdom fawned over him. Sure, he was handsome, with his golden skin and blonde locks and eyes the color of your favorite wildflowers… but he was an ass, and you both knew it.
But despite all his torturing and pestering, you never fought back, a fact that had him amping up his antics, getting bolder.
It’s how you end up in your current situation, pinned up against a shelf in the library, Bakugou’s hulking figure closing you in as he smirks down at you. He’s entirely too close, and you hold a book clutched to your chest to try and create a sort of barrier between you and his roaming gaze.
He looks entirely too comfortable like this, licking his lip before he speaks, his voice low and teasing. “Yknow my parents keep telling me that eventually I’ll have to settle down and start producing heirs. As my future advisor, I think it’s only fair you help me practice, for the good of the kingdom.”
Your eyes widen and cheeks heat at what he’s suggesting, and panic trips in your chest as he begins to lean in closer. You react without thinking, lifting the heavy book in your hands and swinging.
You didn’t really mean to hit him, only hoping that he’d dodge the swipe, but there’s a harsh smack as the leather makes contact with his cheek and his face is shoved sideways.
You gasp, the book dropping from your grasp with a clatter as your hands cover your mouth in horror, already babbling out apologies as he straightens, rubbing his cheek.
You can’t see his face from this angle, but you can see all your hard work and parent’s legacy crumble before your very eyes, sure that you’ve doomed your entire family with one accidental strike.
Tears begin to bubble at your lashline, blurring your vision as he turns to face you. You’re quick to cover your face, horrified to let him see you like this. You jump when a hand circles around your wrist and tugs it down, calloused from years of wielding a sword.
A moment later, he’s pressing the book back into your hand, quiet as you stare up at him in surprise, lip wobbling. He’s still silent as he cups your cheek, swiping away a tear that’s rolling down your skin, and you’re surprised to see that his ruby eyes are gentle, a sharp contrast to the usual glint he usually dons when looking at you.
“Shouldn’t tease you so much, ‘m sorry,” he murmurs, and your mouth falls open in surprise at his apology, especially since you can already see his cheek purpling where you hit him.
Before you can speak, he’s gone again, and you’re left staring after him, wondering what the hell just happened.
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officialabortive · 11 months
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Barbarian!Bakugou x FoxHybrid!Reader
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Barbarian!Bakugou had already set up camp for the night under a canopy of thick tree branches. Finally finding some semblance of relief within the cool shade, when he was disturbed by jingling of rusted bells and worn out wooden wheels clacking against rough terrain. Of course, he knows before even looking, that it was the tell tale clatter of a wandering merchant. Bakugou makes haste, jogging over to see the available merchandise. Opportunities like this are rare, as merchants who travel so far out are few and far between.
The stallions —who are surprisingly well kept and very clearly well groomed— hauling the small wooden caravan came to a halt as the man holding the reigns gave a tug upon noticing a blonde figure jogging up. Dropping the reigns, the man swiftly hoped to the ground, ready to offer a sales pitch. Clasping his hands together, the merchant gave his best smile. It was obviously forced, far to wide and toothy to be genuine. Katsuki already pinned him as an obnoxious asshole.
"Ah! Hello, hello, good sir! Would you be interested in making a purchase? You've come at a good time, I have quite the selection at the moment!"
Bakugou grunts "maybe. What'd you have?" The cart was ever so slightly too elevated to see inside without needing to jump to look in over the edge
"Oh please do come take a look!"
Bakugou trails behind him to the back of the caravan where they can see in through the open back. Several hybrids sat on the wooden flooring, all of which having their gaze pinned directly back on him.
"I only carry the cutest and most unique hybrids! Even some exotic breeds! Only the best of the best! And I can assure you they are all perfectly family friendly!" He started pointing to them individually. "Here we have a beautiful teddywidder rabbit! This is red tailed deer! Over here is one of my personal favorites, a rare spot-"
"Got any hunters?"
The man began stumbling over his words. Now one ever wanted something like that, a possible threat. People wanted a nice cute hybrid to have around the house and be loved by children.
"I- uh- well, I do have this exotic snowy fox, who I'm sure is an amazing hunter. Foxes are known for their incredible hearing, agility, and stealth! All amazing attribut-"
"I'll take 'em"
There was an audible ting, Bakugou having flicked something to the man who fumbled to catch it, even with using two hands. Greedy eyes bulge at the perfectly circular gold piece in his palm. Gluttony has evidently long had it's unshakable grasp on his soul.
You were fairly well behaved. Immediately inspecting the temporary camp, analyzing each item in the worn out bag that lay open on the dirt. Than coming to sniff at bakugou, poking and prodding, curiously tugging at each individual necklaces on his chest. He'd even noticed how you sat exclusively in shaded areas, and squinting whenever you weren't.
Yeah, he regrets not thinking further into the whole 'only liking dark areas' thing. Turns out foxes are fucking nocturnal.
Now, the sun had long gone in to hiding, yet here sits a very much wide awake, agitated barbarian. Slouched with arms crossed over his chest as he glares at nothing in particular.
"Can't believe I spent fuck'n money on this bullshit– QUIT IT!"
The sales basterd was right, you were definitely stealthy. And for Katsuki, it's annoying as shit. He can't even hear your approach when you pounce on him from behind, cackling when you successfully grab on to him mid-jump. Only after several hours worth of attempts to catch you, only for you to slip right out of his grasp, to have you apprehend and tired. Finaly he can get some damn shut ey- why the fuck are you burrowing under his cloak!?
Whatever. At least bakugou is confident in your skills required for hunting. Perfect.
MASTERLIST
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andypantsx3 · 1 year
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some barbarian bakugou thing idk | sfw | gn reader | 1.3k words
It's cold.
The fire crackles at your back, sending warm licks of heat up and over your spine, but it's not enough. You shiver, trying to settle deeper into the hard ground, drawing your cloak up over your nose where it's beginning to grow cold.
Normally, you'd be snuggled deep in your bedroll by now, but you'd stupidly tied it too insecurely to your pack this morning. It had come loose just as your group had forded the river on Kirishima's back, the redhead wearily but gamely shifting into his dragon form to get you safely across the rushing water.
As he plodded across, splashing loudly, your bedroll had tumbled into the icy water, and you'd watched mournfully as it had been immediately dragged under and carried downriver.
It was another day from the nearest town, another day before you could replace it.
When you settled into camp, Midoriya had chivalrously offered his own bedroll—which you had declined, as the loss of yours had been your own fault—and Uraraka had offered a warming spell—but you could see the exhaustion around her eyes and mouth since the battle yesterday, and she still looked pale and peaky. You thought another spell might finish her off for good.
But now you almost wish you'd taken either of them up on it, their discomfort be damned.
Almost.
Suffering the consequences of your own mess was the least you could do for them, really. You owe them everything for saving your life time and time again, starting when they'd first happened upon your village under a bandit raid, you the only survivor.
You've tried your hardest to repay them, stitching up wounds and mending torn clothes, taking over the cooking and fire tending whenever you make camp. Once you'd even talked a merchant down from chopping off Kiri's hand when he'd gotten a little too me dragon, must hoard over a ruby necklace at market.
You won't put everyone out over something as stupid as a lost bedroll, not when you owe them more than you could possibly ever give.
A cool wind whispers through the trees, and you can't suppress another violent shiver. You inch loser to the fire, barely caring if the sparks catch on your clothes and light you up in the night if it means you can be warm now.
You roll onto your side, facing the flames, and shudder again when the cold creeps under your cloak at the movement.
The heat feels good on your face, dry and blistering. But your back is suddenly freezing, and you fight down a groan of frustration.
You'll never get to sleep at this rate.
As soon as this thought occurs, there's the barest whisper of a bootstep behind you. Before you can turn, a hand claps over your mouth, and a hard body slides up against your back, an arm hooking decisively around your middle to pull you back against your assailant. The scent of ash and the sweet, floral oil he uses on his leathers gives away his identity immediately.
"Don't fuckin' scream it's just me," Bakugou growls low in your ear.
You blink dumbly, mouth pursing against his rough palm. "Fwuuh?" you say.
Bakugou Katsuki is notoriously standoffish, the member of your party you'd learned the least about in your weeks with them. A barbarian from the steppes, he's got little time or patience for your people's mannerisms. He seems to like very few things—his dragon Kirishima, his broadsword Hearteater, and the opportunity for a good fight being the exceptions—and you seem to be one of the things he tolerates the least.
He'd been the one who'd run his sword right through the bandit about to kill you, but since then he's acted like it was a mistake. He barely looks at you when you clean his wounds, he never accepts any of your rations when you offer them, and he's recently taken to combat training you, maintaining a harsh commentary on all of your best efforts.
It's a shame he's also so handsome and charismatic, as it makes it difficult for you to discount him entirely.
"Could hear your fucking teeth chattering from the other side of the campsite," Bakugou growls, his hand lifting off your mouth. Something heavy settles over you, and you realize he's arranging his cloak over you both, the fur trim tickling your nose. It's heavy and velvety and soft, and so nice and warm.
You know you need to protest but the heat of him at your back is so deliciously good, you want to relax into him like a warm bath.
"Bakugou—what is this?" you splutter out quietly.
"What, you wanna freeze your ass off?" he demands, his words a harsh breath into your ear. His arm shifts over you, pulling you tighter as if daring you to attempt to escape.
"No," you say, trying to scrape your thoughts in order. "No. But you—is this okay for you?"
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Bakugou growls into the side of your head.
"Well you don't exactly like me," you tell him, too exhausted to be circumspect about it. You know he doesn't like it when you talk around things either. "I didn't think you were cuddling type, exactly."
Bakugou huffs a dismissive laugh into your hair. "You always fucking decide shit on your own," he mutters. "You decide you owe us shit, you decide what's best for Deku and Uraraka to do with their magic and shit, you decide you think you fucking know everything. 'S fucking annoying."
You start, not realizing he'd cottoned on to your thinking process.
"Well I've also decided that you don't much like me," you say. "And I...I do owe you guys. You've saved my life countless times these past couple of weeks."
Bakugou makes a snorting noise behind you. "You fucking village people always think that's how the world works. Owing. A favor for a favor. Trading and bartering and stupid shit. That's not how it works out here, brat. There's no equal exchange. You stay alive if you're strong enough, or if someone likes you enough to keep you alive, and that's it."
His voice is even raspier than usual, you notice. He's tired. You can hear the impatience in the clipped sound of his words, and you know his exhaustion is why you're even getting this much out of him.
You're tired, too, the heat of the fire at your front and Bakugou's hard body at your back both lulling you into a lightheaded sleepiness.
"And you like me enough to keep me alive?" You can't help but ask dubiously.
"I like you well enough even though you're fucking annoying," Bakugou says, his breath stirring the hair at the base of your neck. "But I won't if you keep fuckin' talking."
You can't help but smile at that, a little tired grin touching your mouth.
"It'll be another thing I owe you for," you say, settling back into him at last. You know you will have other thoughts about this in the morning, but for now you can't help yourself. If he's fine with it then there's not much to protest.
"Y' can repay me by shutting the fuck up," he says, before he lets out a heavy exhale, as if he too is being lured into sleep by the warmth of your own body.
You decide to leave your questions about this for the morning. It's too much to contemplate what this means for your relationship to Bakugou. Too much to contemplate that he wants, for some reason, to keep you alive.
His hand presses to your abdomen, securing you even more firmly against him, and you close your eyes again. His breathing evens out, his grip growing slack, and you can feel your own body mirroring him.
Too easily, and without another thought on the debts you're accumulating to him, you slip down into sleep.
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amanochii · 4 months
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"At your orders, my princess."
Please i need more Fantasy AU fanfics with Bakugou, im running out of imagination in character ai lmao.
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bakugousolos · 10 months
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honeymoon with barbarian bkg… 😈🥵
Hehehehe you read my mind anon.
Barbarian bakugou does NOT fuck around for sure. I think he’s definitely the typa man to be less about what you want and just pleasing himself in the beginning, and slowly becoming a pleasure dom.
Maybe it was an arranged marriage because it was convenient and helped him gain some but now he HEAVILY fucks with you and all he can sit and think about it how sexy you walk with your hips or the way you lick your lips after dinner or how you always seem to smell like vanilla with hints of floral. He’s like ???
Honeymoon ain’t where it at, now half a year in….he’s HOOKED by now. Constantly treading behind you when he’s not spilling dragon blood or raiding towns lol. He just loves to be by you. 🤷🏻‍♀️
Okay okay … back to it. I am feeling a very rough honeymoon. Not only because of the erm sex but because he barely even gaf about aftercare. Probably ends up in doggy a lot because he’s a little insecure about his facial expressions lol.
Erm… happy reading ? (_ _)
this one concluded terribly.
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pamgkrthwrites · 9 months
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My beta reader said to stop, so will do more.
Yandere Barbarian Bakugou trying to find a wife and see you by the river. Watches you for days and decides you hips are wide enough to carry the amount of kids he wants.
Raids your village and Carrie’s you back to his temporary camp where he brands you. Drags you all the way back to his home camp base where he forces you to marry him.
Will put as many children in you as your body allows. Will give you 3 months after giving birth to rest up before he starts trying again.
Kisses you sweetly after biting and drawings blood from your neck. Tells you he loves you after yelling at you. Calls you his holy treasure after telling you that if you ever run from him, he’ll kill you.
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lolita-lollipop · 1 year
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Could I request a fantasy Au! with barbarian bakugou & dragon kirishima with a village girl darling. After one of their village friends dares them to go into the cave where they live, and so happens to wake dragon kirishima & trying to flee away from him but ends up getting injured.
YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER X DRGAON KIRISHIMA
HAPPY UPDATE DAY MY LOVELY LITTLE READERS!
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“Cmon y/n… it’ll be fun I promise. Just in and out, and if you can do it we’ll all do your chores for the rest of the month” the older blonde haired boy pleaded, feigning friendship with you. Kaminari and his goons were quite known around the village as the rich assholes who knew they could do anything they wanted. You just happened to be the only one younger than them in this stupid village, so naturally you were a target.
They had been… teasing you recently. About your unease of the cave only a few miles out from town. You lived in a heavily forested area, with trees stretching for miles, and there were many… rumors. Or myths. Or even fairy tails if that’s what you wanted to call it. Of fairy’s who pranced about during the night feeding on lost souls, of half human half horse being who would stomp you into oblivion, of mermaids who lure you into the waters and never let you leave. Those stories you could handle. But there was always one… the tale of the two dragons, it was quite common in your town that the parents would tell the story to their young children in order to keep them from going into the woods alone.
It said that two dragons live in that cave, searching for lost children, and when they find those children, they eat them.
Yes, not the most complex story, however there was just something about that cave, all the older kids regularly visited it, vandalizing tne stone caverns. It was technically against the kings rule to do such a thing, but nobody was brave enough to go there and check. You never did, not once did you go when kaminari invited you, he had such a knack for finding ways to make you uncomfortable.
When you kept denying his invitations, he finally caught on. You. We’re. Scared. And boy did it get a rise out of him, it was like he had never heard anything funnier.
“Y-you’re scared of a cave because of that stupid horror story your parents told you when you were little? Jesus give me a break” he would say between cackles. Then, he would go silent, and then things got real bad.
All of a sudden it was like Every waking hour of his was like it was his goal in life to get you into that cave, he would knock on your door at 5 am to ask you, then pester you all day, only to wake you up at 12 at night to ask you again. And kept you awake until you gave him a maybe.it made you want to gouge your eyes out at how well he was getting under your skin, you weren’t sleeping so you didn’t have the energy to go do all the tasks you had in the farm, meaning you didn’t get paid as much as usual, meaning you couldn’t eat everyday.
It had been weeks since he started this, and now it was beginning to break you down, you were stuck thin and tired all the time. Meanwhile he stayed plump and healthy, having nothing better to do than to bully a poor girl must be a luxury of being rich. And so, reluctantly, after weeks of pure torture. You said yes.
“Fine. I’ll go into your stupid cave, but only for a minute. I’m not staying a while.” You mumbled out, tears starting to form at the edges of your eyes. You didn’t want to say yes, but you were just so tired.
“Okay! Let’s go.” He spoke chirpily. Skipping off into the woods with your Raggy sleeve in his hand. As you got closer and closer it was like all of the trees were waning away from you, screaming at you to get out and run far away, to never come back.
“N-now? But I have to work-“ you sputtered out, struggling to keep in line with the tall boy, your forehead was glistening in the sun with sweat now, your eyes were wide, your hands wee clammy, it was just oh so obvious that you were uneased.
“Work can wait, it’s not like you’re accomplishing anything anyway. Only for a minute. We’re almost there!” He continued cheering happily, you hated him, you hated him for exploiting you like this, you hated that he was forcing you into a place you would rather die than go into. You hated this.
But you could do very little to fight back against the older boy, now that you said yes you highly doubted he would let you turn back on your decision. So you kept your mouth shut, and tried to press the bile stuck in your throat down, along with your anxiety. It didn’t take very long to arrive at the cavern, it was just an obsidian blue opening in one of the taller hills of the forest, sorrounded by trees. There were little glistening crystals jabbing out front he opening. You knew they hadn’t been mined because everybody was far too fearful to go near the place. It was a warning in itself.
Denki shoved you forward with a harsh push to your back, you winced and looked back at him, trying to plead with your eyes that you were scared, that you didn’t want to do this. To no avail of course, as he just sent one of those condescending smiles of his, and gave you another shove.
“It’ll be so quick, I’ll count sixty seconds and then call for you. Just in and out y/n. Don’t you dare come out early” he hissed at you, and shoved you for the third time today. And so you went tumbling into the cave without anything, no flashlight, thin clothing( which did nothing against the cool breeze wafting around the cave), no weapon. No food. If you weren’t scared up there staring into the cave, staring into the belly of the beast, you definitely were now.
You counted the seconds, and wandered further, searching for a wall to press yourself against in order to feel safe. But found nothing, by the time you’d come to a slow you’d only reached thirty seconds, and also realized you had gotton lost in the dark. It was pitch black here, you couldn’t even see your hands in front of you, let alone the sorroundings, before it was too late you stopped paying attention to which direction your steps were in, and now you didn’t know where you were.
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Now you were panicking, you couldn’t feel anything, or see anything around you, and you sure as hell didn’t know wether you were going further in or out of the cave. Your heart started racing, and now those tears that had threatened to spill earlier were beginning to slip out of those e/c eyes of yours onto your face. Panic seeped into your system, and you realized.
Denki would just leave you here if you didn’t come out when he yelled for you. He wouldn’t care if you were ok, he wouldn’t give a damn. He would leave you here alone in the dark.
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All of a sudden you felt something behind you, perhaps you’d walked far enough to find some kind of wall to quite you out of here, or at least to provide you some comfort. But also, this felt wrong, like it wasn’t something that belonged to the cave…
60.
And like that, you felt a shove in your back that pushed you forward, your foot caught in a jagged rock in the ground so you toppled. But instead of meeting a harsh rocky ground, instead of breaking half of the bones in your body, you began to plummet straight down. You didn’t know what could’ve been worse.
The screams that left your mouth were quiet and breathleSs, too clouded by sheer terror to be very loud. Your hands found your head and your clutched your ears, trying not to panic too hard. It was all to fast, and then you hit the ground, and everything was so slow.
You screamed out in agony as you fell almost 90 feet onto a sharp crystal-like stone, which pierced through your leg. The sobs that left you were ugly and snotty, but you had never felt pain like this before. You were gonna die at the bottom of this cave, and no one was going to know you were even here.
“KAMINARI PLEASE. PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME HERE IM HURT. ILL DIE” you screamed out, but no one answered. You just sat there sobbing for over five minutes, too hyper fixated on the pain to care about anything else. Then you heard the voices coming from above, but your mind was beginning to go blurry, you couldn’t see how much blood you had already lost, but you felt empty now so it had to be a lot. You couldn’t make out most of the conversation.
“P-please sir- I did what you asked, I led her here and put her in your nest- please let me go” you were able to recognize the pleading voice as kaminaris, he seemed… scared? Of who? There was somebody else he was talking to. Nest?
“What I asked was for you to give her to me, now she is hurt because you weren’t fucking careful. Not only were you over three weeks late on getting her here, you also caused her pain. Is that what I fuckung asked you to do, boy?” A man’s voice spoke in, it was so tough that it sounded like the man had been eating sandpaper his entire life, but it was also very crisp, very harsh. He was angry. VeryObviously.
Your consciousness began to loop in and out, but after that, all you could hear were screams, and the occasional pleading. You heard a crunch once. This only fed into your fear, and now you found yourself frantically trying to un-impale yourself from the crystal, but it just wasn’t budging. Then, all the noise stopped, which was alarming in its own. Then, you felt a sliver of some kind of tail slide past your leg, then again on the back of your neck, and then. To your utmost terror, something- or someone swooped you off of your feet, and begin to hold you above the ground.
Then you fainted
———
You woke up in the same cave, with a piercing headache, your body felt like ice and burning fire at the same time. It was agonizing. The cave was the same, but now there was some form of light shining about, which showcased how this place looked less alike a cave and more like a den. There was faint bickering in the background, but you couldn’t turn to look at whoever two men were talking, your body was frozen in its spot.
Around along the cave walls there were furs of animals hanging off of ropes tied to what you thought was a ceiling , a few blankets that looked too new to be used by the inhabitants of this cave, along with a few pillows. And the jewels, there were jewels everywhere, billions of dollars worth of diamonds and rubys and sad fires. While the cave was beautiful, it was also terrifying, there was no ladder out, and there were sharp weapons everywhere. They weren’t the spears and swords of your people either, these were crafted out of wood, but looked sharper than a diamond.
Then you became aware of the same voice from earlier, softer now, less angry, talking to somebody else.
“He is gone now, no need to fuss darling. She will wake soon, and we will nurse the little one back to health. Poor girl. Already running a fever” you felt a little bit of heat over your body for a split second, and something was making a blowing noise, but then it stopped suddenly, and the sound of a slap rang out.
“We have to be gentle remember? Humans are such fragile creatures, especially children, they might just snap if you push them even a little too hard. Our little one will be safe with us. “ with those words you could move your hands, and then you could scrunch your nose, and then your mouth. They must’ve drugged you to make you soft because most of your body was numb. You began trying to see if you could move at all, but the fluffy blankets under you made it hard to sit up.
Almost immediately a man with blond spiky hair was looming over you, he moved so fast you hadn’t seen him, he tucked his arms under you and lifted you up with such ease that it didn’t seem human. In fact, he didn’t seem human at all, his eyes golden and seemingly glowing, his body too strong. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but there were leather straps strapped around his chest, along with some fur pants with jangly beads hanging down front he belt. You hadn’t realized you were screaming until he began to hush you.
“It’s okay. It’s alright, your body will feel like this for a short while, I had to give you a little something to make you calm down or you might’ve killed yourself. I did it to help you alright?”it was so hard for you to get out an answer to that without pain, so you just closed your eyes and rested… only to open them again and see the stranger staring at your face. He knew you were awake clearly. But it was almost like he didn’t know what to do with you.
Hot breath behind you found it’s way into your senses again, which naturally alarmed you. You had though it was just you and this.. man? Creature? In here. So you tried to get to see whatever it was. And when you did, you began sobbing once more, and shrill screaming was heard throughout the den.
A thing. No, a dragon was just standing there staring at you, probably thinking about how it wanted to eat you, it’s bright red skin and glowing yellow eyes pierced into your soul as you stared and stared and stared. And the more you did, the more terrifying it got.
“No no no no no- kiri- go hide for now you are scaring her. it’s alright baby, it’s alright. He won’t hurt you, i swear.” Cooed the man as he covered your eyes and pressed you into his bare chest. His warmth was such a contrast to the stark cold in this cave, you could tell something was unusual about him, like this was demonstrating some sort of special behavior. This man just seemed so harsh with kaminari , but his voice turned soft with you, completely different from when he was with denki .
Of course, this still didn’t help you calm down, in fact it just made you more fearful. It made you realize the weight of the situation, kaminari was likely dead and he’s the only one who knew you were here, and you were with one inhuman man, and either a dragon or one really terrifying lizard.
The tears ran freely from your eyes as you stared ag this man, he just hushed you and pulled you closer, tucking your head into the knook of his shoulder and slightly bouncing you. His grip was just so strong, and you were too weak form the blood loss, the starvation, and whatever drug he had given you to try and fight back right now.
The barbarian royalty hadn’t expected you to come today, he’s only seen you from afar before when you were slightly smaller, running through the forests, you had sensed him staring at you, and ran the other way.
You were just so small. So tiny. Many of the humans around avoided the cave, and the town nearby wasn’t exactly known for baring many children, he hadn’t seen one as young as you in over 15 years. And god did it awaken something in him, and something in his dragon too.
They used to care for children when they were younger, children who showed clear signs of mistreatment, children who got too curious and wandered into their nest. But then the village caught on to why so many young ones began to go missing. And they tried to kill the “beasts” in this cave. Of course they failed, and of course they all died. The tale that pursued was nothing but a childrens fairytale to frighten the little ones from wandering. And the two inhabitants were forgotten.
And this town, this town has become cursed, after you, the young ones stopped coming, no children could be had, so there were no children to care for. Which is why you were so special. Oh gods you smelled so fresh, so pure, and he could tell that boy that was nothing but a pile of blood and bones had been doing something to you, you smelled of sadness, of exhaustion.
He would nurse you back into too shape though.
He would take care of you, along with his partner.
He would make you a big soft nest where you could go when you got overwhelmed, when you got scared.
He would care for you
Oh god how happy will his tribe be when they found out he had found his child
———————————————————————————————————
Hello.
My very sparse updating schedule is because I’m lazy and lack the energy to write :P
I have a good moonknight work on the way though!
Thank you so much for all the concern about my well-being! Im not dead and I am (almost) fully mentally stable:)
And if anybody wants some kind of mafia au fic please request now!
I love y’all! Bye bye!
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zazter-den · 7 months
Text
Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1
Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current
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Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).
Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.
Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.
Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1
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Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.
Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.
The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.
A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.
"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."
Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.
All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.
"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."
You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.
Should you have been scared? Probably.
But you weren't.
Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.
" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”
The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.
"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.
King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."
You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?
The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.
“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.
Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.
It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.
Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.
King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.
"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.
His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.
"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."
King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.
The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.
The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.
The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.
If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.
You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.
You would submit. But only as much as you had to.
As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."
Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.
The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.
And so began the balancing act.
"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.
"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.
The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.
Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.
Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.
As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."
Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.
You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.
Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.
Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.
Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.
He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.
Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.
As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.
"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.
As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.
"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.
As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.
Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.
With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.
"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."
The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.
With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.
Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.
Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.
With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.
A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.
Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.
You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.
With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.
Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.
"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.
The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.
"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.
Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.
Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.
The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.
You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.
His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.
"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.
And it only got worse.
Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.
Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.
Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone
"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.
As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.
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Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.
The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.
Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.
"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.
Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.
"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.
Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.
Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."
The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.
Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.
"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.
Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.
However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.
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Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.
As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.
Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.
With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.
The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.
Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.
As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.
Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.
The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.
Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.
The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.
Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.
The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.
With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.
It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.
Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.
As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.
As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.
Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.
With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.
Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.
With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.
As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.
Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.
Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.
Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.
A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.
He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.
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IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.
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Taglist: @themythicaldisaster
Comments and Reblogs carry me through the week!
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thecuriousquest · 6 months
Text
The Barbarian King and His Queen
Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom
Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, mind break, nudity, non con, domestic violence, domestic abuse, brutal whipping, death of army mentioned
Summary: You are the leader of the side fighting against Bakugou’s invasion. The battle was long and hard. In the end, you are defeated.
***I’m going on a posting spree to clear out my drafts.***
Checkout my Master List here.
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You watch the smoke clear across from the land from the high point of your horse.
No, this can’t be. Every one. Every single one of your men have died. You sit there at a loss of what to do until you’re pulled from your horse by strong hands.
The Barbarian King, this Tormentor of Nations as they call him…you now understand why they call him this.
He has you face down on the bloodstained grass, holding your struggling body by the pelts on your waist and the back of your neck.
“What are you going to do with the Queen now that you’ve captured her, Your Grace?”
“I’m taking her to the dungeons for a little talk.”
———
You are roughly shoved inside by the large hand of the Barbarian King, Tormentor of Nations. You turn around to look at him with sharp eyes.
“You bastard! How dare you put your hands on me as you have?!”
Bakugou licks his lips at you, sharp teeth showing. “How dare a lady speak to a king in such a way?”
You cross your arms and step back even though bars are separating you from him.
He tilts his head at you. “They called you ‘Queen Y/N, the Bold’. From what I’ve seen, I think the Stupid works better. You led all those men to their deaths all because you were feeling rebellious.”
“You invaded us!” You cry out.
“You had the choice to submit.”
“I would never submit to the likes of you. My men died bravely.”
“I can’t say the same for you.”
“So, you plan to kill me?”
“Oh, no, I have something even better in mind. You’re going to be my new pet. Your training starts tomorrow.”
“I won’t obey you, and I won’t listen to another word.” You turn away from the heated king.
“Mage!”
Through magic, your body turns against its own will, and your chest slams into the bars of the cell.
You stifle a groan upon impact, but Katsuki doesn’t miss the pained expression on your face as you squeeze your eyes shut and clench your teeth.
Through the bars, he grabs your face. “You’ll listen to every word I have to say. You’ll hear every syllable down to the last sentence.”
Defiant as always, you bite his hand, earning you a clenched hand around your throat.
“Maybe training should start right now.”
You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of his grasp.
“Then stop being so difficult. Accept your new place. The sooner you do that, the better.”
He releases you, leaving you a sputtering mess. You rub your sore throat, hunched over, gasping for oxygen. You glare at that bastard as he walks away with his mage.
———
You’re stripped naked and doused by four buckets of ice cold water. The winter air and the dampness of the dungeon does nothing to help your prickling flesh.
Dragged out of your cell naked, you cover as much of your exposed parts as you can. You’re accompanied to a great room, if you’re not mistaken, an empty ball room. The two soldiers flanking you, gripping your arms to secure you, see you over to the Barbarian King. It’s quite horrible, standing here in front of your captor, nude in all of your glory. However, you don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you quiver like a scared pup. You hold your head high, just as your mother taught you when faced with fear.
He doesn’t like how cocky you look. He plans to do away with that as quickly as possible.
“Leave us, and close the doors,” Katsuki orders.
Footsteps fade away behind you, and you hear the doors shut with a hard clang. You’re left all alone with the Tormentor of Nations.
“What to do with you first?” He questions without expecting an answer. You can tell he’s talking to himself. “Ah, I know just what to do with you, bitch.” He walks past you, towards a trunk by the door.
You missed it earlier due to the doors blocking it from your view when you entered. You didn’t look around to take in the room. You needed to keep your eyes on the king, challengingly.
“There’s nothing you could do to break me.”
He’s hunched over the chest as he raises his eyebrow at you. “We’ll see about that.” Katsuki opens the trunk, revealing torturous items. Chains, whips, paddles, knives, and many others to accompany them. He takes something with an odd shape to it. It reminds you of a cucumber but with more width.
He takes intimidatingly loud steps towards you, but you stand your ground. Arriving right in front of you, the king knocks your legs out from under you, allowing you to hit the hard wooden floor.
Your hands steady you before you can hit your head. Slightly shaken, you need a moment before you can collect yourself; a moment he doesn’t allow.
You’re on your back, spine uncomfortably digging into the floor. He’s crouching over you with a knee on your chest, his hand fisting your hair.
Fingers slip in between your thighs, and you cry out for him to stop. The Tormentor of Nations, this invader, that’s exactly what he is because that’s exactly what he’s doing.
You glare at him, clenching your fists. “Bastard! Graceless bastard!” You spit in his eyes. You try to push at his knee to get him off of you. He towers over you with a bulk of muscle flourishing his handsome body. You come to the realization that you stand no chance against him, but you still refuse to give up.
He strikes you across the face, splitting your lip with one of his sterling rings. He likes the sound the slap makes, and he marks you with his palm a second time.
Dizziness overcomes you more than pain. You feel like your head is spinning. At the third hit, you groan.
Your response to his punishment is all he needs to know that your walls are breaking. That one tiny groan you let loose will be your downfall.
So stoic, so bold, you will be so broken, and he will piece you back together into the perfect lover.
Once you’ve given up struggling beneath him, he sticks two fingers into your cunt. You’re dry, and he huffs and mutters a curse.
“This is going to hurt you more because you’re not wet,” he informs you with a husky growl.
He shoves the oblong shaped object up your pussy with no warning. Instead of screaming, you suck in a long breath. The roughness of the shove brings you out of your daze, and you push back the tears that spring to your eyes.
Katsuki secures the object inside of you before going to fetch something else from the trunk.
You try to push yourself up to see what he’s doing, but the smallest curl of your lower belly has you wincing, almost whimpering, in pain. You won’t whimper in front of the Barbarian King.
Glancing up at him with a rebellious glare, you sneer at the sight of the whip in his hand.
“This was specially made for me, enchanted by a mage. When I wield it, I have the power to amplify your pain. I will make you cry. I won’t stop until I see tears, pet.”
Your vulnerable thighs are the first of his many targets. You’ve never been whipped before, so you have nothing to compare it to. It gets harder to stifle your whimpers with every rise of his arm.
He drags the whip over the soft curves of your belly before leaving your breast with a heavy lash. Your sensitive nipple swells with a welt, and a noise catches in your throat. He can hear it, but you won’t open your mouth to release it.
Tilting his head at you, he caresses your cheek with the toe of his boot, nudging it to look directly at him.
He spits upon your body, warm saliva hitting your face. You flinch at the unexpected contact.
All too soon, you find him turning you onto your stomach. You groan as your lash marks and cuts rub against the floor.
His whip abuses your poor bottom. It’s as if his goal is to cause tearing in your flesh, and suddenly, you can take no more. A tormented wail falls from your lips as you openly shudder. Your legs kick, and tears come forth to your eyes.
The whip ceases to add anymore burning lacerations and welts to your body. It takes you some time to realize this. You look up at the broad man towering over you, and you can tell his cock is hard just from the salacious gleam in his vermillion orbs.
“I have to give you some credit, you really held out for a long time. However, you didn’t hold out long enough. Those tears…”
He squats next to you again and takes the object from your cunt. He pokes around down there, checking to see if you’re still dry. Again, he huffs and mumbles under his breath when he is unable to find one drop of your delicious juice. He uses your tears as a lubricant instead, and he takes you right there on the ballroom’s floor.
——
A year later.
“Do you remember this dress? These pelts? You wore them the day I defeated you. Take a look at yourself in the mirror.”
You take in all of your scars and bruises, your miserable expression.
“Do you see what has become of you since that day, since you led your army to slaughter because you were a little rebel. Not so bold now, are you?”
“No, King Katsuki.”
“Would you like to wear it? Would you like to cover your naked body? It’s pretty cold out.”
“I…I wish to wear something different if you would allow it, my king.”
“It’s either this or nothing.”
Wrapping yourself in your arms, you nod. “I’ll wear nothing, your Grace. My body is yours, which should not be covered.”
He really wanted to see you willingly put on your defeated garb.
“It would make me happy if you did. You don’t want me to be sad, right?”
You wince as he caresses the lash mark on your breast. “No, I only want you to be happy, Your Grace.”
You take the clothes and dress yourself in front of him. You want nothing more than to break down at the memories of you in this dress. Is it true that you failed your army? Is it true that you led the men of your kingdom to their deaths by not submitting to the Barbarian King? You’ve asked yourself these questions many a moon, but you never arrive at the right answer.
The dark blue dress swishes against your ankles as you wrap your golden belt around you. Pelts of fur hang off of it for warmth. The last thing to dawn your outfit is a golden necklace. Katsuki secures it around your neck, brushing your sensitive skin with his lips as he locks the chain.
He allows you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are hallow, like a barren forest with no life.
He turns you to look at him, smirking at you. “Now this brings back memories.” He rubs the sleeves of your arms. “You look beautiful.”
Your eyes suddenly grow wide with confusion. He has never before complimented you in all the time you’ve been here.
“Why are you saying such things?”
It’s his turn to look at you with curiosity now. “What do you mean? Do you not believe me?”
Not knowing how to respond without angering him, you take a moment to phrase your next sentence very carefully.
“I’m scarred and bruised. What about that is beautiful?”
Understanding washes over him. “You should be proud to wear the scars that I gave you.”
A tear drips from your eye, and you look down. “Yes, King Katsuki. I am proud to wear the scars that you have given me.” You hope this is the right thing to say.
“Don’t lie to me. You just stood here and told me that you think the scars make you ugly.”
“I don’t know what to say!”
“Then speak the truth!”
“I can’t!” You lean your back against the wall. “I fear your hand if I speak honestly. I can never tell you my thoughts without angering you.”
Katsuki walks towards you and holds your face in both hands. “You are finally understanding your place, and I am so proud of you, but now that you have learned, I want you to speak to me with candor.”
He wipes away the tears from your cheeks with padded thumbs. “Tell me the truth.”
“I…I’m ashamed of myself. I could have avoided the deaths of my men if I had simply gone with you in the first place. It is my fault. I am responsible for their deaths.”
“With me, you can repent for your crimes. I will help you wash away the guilt, my love.” His lips crash against yours, and you can feel his hard bulge against your thigh.
Guilt and shame. Being cleansed of them sounds nice. You allow Katsuki to ravage you on the bed. He doesn’t take your dress off, and he doesn’t disrobe either.
You have tried to escape before, you have waited for someone to come rescue you. Neither have worked in your favor. Maybe, if this is how the Barbarian King is going to treat you from now on, then you can learn to live with him.
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heli-writes · 2 months
Text
A dragon's heart
Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader
Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.
Disclaimer: Heavy violence in the last part, throat cutting and gutting of human people, mentions of rape (no visual description!), swearing
[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]
Part 1, Part 2
Series Masterlist
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People don't dare to speak about them out loud. Afraid that it would manifest them. They would only speak about them only in whispers behind closed doors. Fathers would tell their sons that it's better to flee than to fight. Don't play the hero. You can't win a fight against them, no one can. Mothers tell their daughters about the horrors they commit. You'd rather be dead than be captured by them. The women they don't kill after they're done, don't last more than a week. Y/n heard all the stories growing up. Some are more horrifying than others. Y/n has never lived in one place for too long. Her people have always been wanderers, offering their services and wares to the villages they pass through. So, she's come to hear a great deal of stories in her lifetime.
In the past two years, life has been unfortunate for y/n. The wandering folk have always been victims of bandits waiting on the side of the road. They've found ways to defend themselves but bandit activity has risen in the past years due to the barbarians attacking and raiding places all over the kingdom. Like sharks smelling blood, other low-life criminals start to crawl out of their holes, sensing an opportunity to gain some coin and women for themselves. Y/n's group has been attacked quite a few times over the last two years, decimating their numbers bit by bit. Having lost people, coins and wares, the last winter was harsh. Those, who didn't starve to death, died due to the harsh cold or infection that followed soon after. After that winter, there weren't many left of them and the survivors started to question if their way of life was still liveable in the current condition. Eventually, the group dismembered. Not all at once, but one by one. People found other work or opportunities in the villages they passed through. A better prospect of life. Even y/n's elder brother, her only surviving family member, left this spring and enrolled in the military service of the king. He tried to convince her to come with her and settle down in the capital. But y/n can't imagine such a life. Being used to living in the open, in tents and wagons, she developed a distaste for sleeping in houses made of stone. It gives her nightmares. The thought that the house might crumble and its stones burying her alive, scares her to death.
Eventually, y/n ends up alone. Only her, her tent, and a wagon her parents left behind. She tried keeping up the life of a wanderer until her donkey died of old age and she had no coin to buy a new one. Having no opportunity to continue to pull her wagon, she was forced to settle closeby to a small settlement. Here's the thing. Villagers are usually nice to the wandering folk. They're happy to trade with them and the change of pace and stories they bring with them. However, they are not keen on having them in their life permanently. It's nice to have them around for a couple of days, but it's also good when they move on. Then there are the prejudices. Often people put y/n's kind into the same box as other people without a permanent residence like bandits, homeless people, or moving brothels. So, people weren't too happy when y/n put up her tent close to the village entrance.
You see, most people don't treat y/n unkindly as long as she keeps her distance and has the proper coin when she needs to buy something. They even trust her enough to buy her wares but they're not very inclusive. So y/n does not really find any friends or social connections and she is aware of the demeaning glances and sneers people give her when they think she's not looking. She's trying to save up coins for a new donkey and hopes to find her brother. Maybe convincing him to leave the military. Or at least to find a more inviting place than where she is now.
Today's the celebration of the long day. It's the longest day of the year and the people celebrate the daylight for blessing their fields and fruits. There's a festival in the village with dances, beverages and lots of music. It gives y/n some consolation that the village people are celebrating this day. It's a big festival for her people with different traditions and rituals that are held all day and night. This year y/n tried to do as many of them on her own, but it's just not the same without your family around. So, she's glad she can go into the village and take part in the buzzing celebration. Though 'take part' is probably a bit too much. She probably will buy a cup of fruit wine and watch the hustle and bustle of the villagers. It's not like anybody would want to dance with her. After all, she has no real prospect of marriage around here. Nobody would let their son court and marry a woman like her. Not that y/n is interested in any of the young men she's seen in the village. She finds most of them quite close-minded and not very driven.
Y/n wears a flower crown she's woven today and one of her mother's dresses. It actually might be the one she got married in. She wanders the town square and watches old men toast with full jugs of beer and young couples sneaking around, waiting for the music to start. She gets herself a cup of wine and a sugary piece of cake and settles on the ground next to the bakery stand. Cross-legged, she bites into her cake and takes notice of some middle-aged women looking in her direction and whispering behind raised hands. Y/n shrugs it off as the music starts to play and people start to dance. She watches the commotion and whips her feet to the music. She really would love to dance. At midnight, the villagers dim the lanterns and lit a fire in the middle of the square. Curiously, y/n blends into the mass that gathers around the fire. She bumps into a man her age. She apologizes and gives the man a small smile. The man looks at her in bewilderment and his friend gives her a mean look, pulling the man away from her. Slowly, silence befalls the square and the old storyteller of the village makes his way to the middle of the square, next to the fire. Y/n buzzes with excitement. She loves stories. Before starting his story, the man lets his gaze wander through the people and takes a deep breath.
Far away from here, behind the mountain range we call bear fangs, lays the territory of the dragonblood tribe. These beasts of men managed to tame the greatest monsters known to mankind: the dragons. Over 12 feet high, spewing raging fire, these creatures are nothing more than steel-hard scales and razor-sharp teeth. While normal people, like us, would fear for their lives encountering these monsters, the dragonblood tribe has lived together with them for centuries in what they call harmony. There's no doubt you have to be a special kind of person to survive an encounter with such a monster, let alone live with them. Tall, strong, cunning and unafraid of death. All characteristics the men of the tribe possess. Some say they even mixed their blood with their dragons and gained impenetrable skin and superhuman strength.
A strength that they still use today to bring terror and fear into our lands. However, a few winters ago, a horrible sickness befell the women of the dragonblood tribe. Most of them didn't survive the season. Having lost their women, the dragonblood men lust for female flesh. Flesh that they seek nowadays in our lands.
We've all heard stories. From an aunt or uncle living in other parts of the kingdom, from passing merchants or the wandering folk about them. They do not care for day or night, they attack whenever they feel like it. There's no plan or logic to their attack, just chaos and violence. They burn houses, skin men alive, put children on spikes and do unspeakable, terrible things to our women. We should fear every single one of them but... there's one we should fear the most. Their leader: Bakugou Katsuki. He's the cruelest, strongest, and meanest of them all. He managed to tame the biggest and most dangerous dragon of all kinds: A hellfire dragon. With scales red as blood and fire as hot as a hundred forges, no one can escape this beast. And no one can escape its master either. With an insatiable hunger for coin, gold and women, their leader and his men continue to invade this country and raid its villages and towns. Greedily acquiring riches and kidnapping and taking our women whenever they please. You never know when they strike, but when you see a sliver of burning red in the sky... Take your little siblings, put your old mother on your back and leave farm and home behind, and run as fast as you can. If you're lucky, and cunning yourself, you might just be able to escape the terror of the dragonblood tribe and live another day to tell the story.
As the storyteller finishes his story, the market square lies in eery silence. Nobody dares to even move. Only when the musicians start playing again and the lanterns are lit again, the tension eases and the gathering around the fire dissolves. Y/n gets up from the place she was seated in and rubs her arms. There are goosebumps all over her body. What a creepy story to tell during such delightful festivities, she thinks. She grabs her cup to return it to the vendor. In passing, she hears someone say: "Why on earth would he speak of this? Doesn't he know it's a bad omen to speak it out loud?". She returns her cup and lets her gaze wander over the square once more. Some couples picked up dancing again but it's obvious that the atmosphere has shifted. Y/n notices the man she bumped into earlier watching her from across the square. She gives him a nod and then turns around to leave.
Y/n set up camp not too far away from the village, but far away enough to have some peace and quiet. The wandering folk often set up camp in a forest or closeby a river, living off the land around them. So, y/n has a short walk by foot back to her tent. The moon stays high in the sky, illuminating her surroundings enough for her to comfortably find her way home. Deep in her own thoughts, y/n doesn't notice the dark shadows following her. She's been walking for a while when she finally hears the snickering of male voices behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees three male silhouettes following her. "Hey, y/n, wait a second!", she hears one of them yell. The voice is familiar. One of the villagers. She stops for a second, a stupid mistake on her part. One of the men jog up to her, the others following closely. "I'm sorry, can I help you with anything?", y/n says calmly. "Actually, there's something huge you could help me with.", the man she bumped into earlier grins. Y/n pretends not to catch on the allusion. "If you need help with something, it's best to work on it tomorrow. Also, we probably should talk to your father first since he handles business in your family.", she states. She hopes the mention of his father will intimidate the guy. "Oh, I think it's best to work on it tonight.", the man answers and his friends snicker behind him. "Sorry, I'm tired. Let's talk about it tomorrow.", y/n tries to advert him once again. "It won't be any work for you at all. You'd just have to lay down. Or stand up, depending on how you like it.", the man says and leans close. "I'd like to go home. Alone.", she tells him and turns to leave. "C'mon don't be like that!", one of his friends grins behind him, as the other one grabs her arm. "You're drunk. You should all go home, too. It's best to sleep it off.", she tells them and pulls on her arm. "Why are you like that? You don't think we're worth your time?", the third one coos. Y/n pulls on her arm again. "I'm sure you're all great and we can talk about everything tomorrow. Right now, however, I'd prefer to go home alone.", she tries again. "Not even for some coin? I heard your kind does everything for a little bit of gold.", the man holding her arms sneers. Not for any gold in the world, y/n would like to say. She knows better than to offend them. It's already a dangerous situation she's in. No need to escalate it further. "C'mon, babe. At least let me feel you up a bit.", the guy says and tries to pull her closer. Y/n decides that she has had enough of this. She balls her fist and swings it right into the man's face. Not expecting the blow, he lets go of her arm and stumbles back. Y/n doesn't waste a second and makes a run for it. Immediately, she leaves the well-known path and darts into the woods. She hopes that the trees give her enough cover to keep out of their sight. She runs in a zigzag, changing her direction multiple times. She hears the man behind her, trying to keep up with her. Unfortunately for her, they are bigger and faster than her and it's hard to shake them off. Eventually, y/n loses them. She climbs up a tree and stays unmoving for a long time. She doesn't hear them anywhere close by and her heart slows down a bit. It's not the first time she had to run away from men with bad intentions. She knows it's not a smart idea to return to her tent immediately. So, she stays up on the tree for most of the night. Her eyes fall close a couple of times but after she almost loses balance one time, she stays awake for the remaining night listening closely into the woods.
Only when the sun starts to rise again and wafts of mist waver over the cold forest ground, y/n climbs down from her spot. Her joints are stiff and she's chilled to the bone. Cautiously, she starts her way back to her tent. Of course, she did not watch where she was going last night and it takes her multiple hours to find her way back. When she arrives at her campsite, chills run down her back. Apparently, these men were not only relentless but also petty. Her entire campsite is destroyed. They absolutely trashed the place and set fire to her tent and wagon. Y/n takes in the sight. She tries to stay calm but her blood is boiling. It's not like she cared much about the possessions. The wandering folk always packed lightly and only what they could carry. It's the disrespect for her. Also, the little things that she did own were necessities. It's still early in the morning, so y/n decides to salvage what she can and take her leave. She knows men like this. When they don't get what they want, they don't rest until they absolutely destroy everything.
Unfortunately for y/n, the devil works fast and these men work faster. She just started piling up things that were still usable when she hears clamoring just a mile away. "Let's go! She must be back by now! No way she leaves her witchcraft stuff behind!", she hears a man yell. Y/n debates for a few seconds whether or not to stand her ground but decides it's better to avoid confrontation. She quickly grabs a small bag and retreats to the forest. However, she doesn't make it far. Only a few meters into the woods, an arrow flies by her head. "There she is! I saw her just beyond the tree line!", she hears a yell behind her. Immediately, y/n breaks into a sprint. She tries to lose them by zigzagging again but the broad daylight makes it easier for them to spot her. Being used to walking all day, y/n has quite the stamina and hopes to tire them out. However, she didn't sleep all night and the men seemed to have prepared for a longer hunt. 'Hunt' is the appropriate term here. They keep shooting arrows at her and seem to track her trails.
The forest no longer looks familiar to y/n as she keeps pushing on. Her heart feels as if it's about to explode. In a bad way. She's sure the men on her tail can hear her heavy breathing from a mile away. She's also sure that they start to catch up to her. She can hear them closer and closer behind her. They are whooping and whistling as if they are making fun of her. So sure that they can catch up to her. Suddenly, an arrow flies close to her face again, cutting her ear. She can feel blood dripping down the side of her face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can't hide forever, you little bitch!", she hears one of them call out behind her. She gathers all her strength and pushes her legs to run even faster than before. Panic sets in and she hears an arrow hit the ground behind her. Trying to look back in order to estimate how far they are behind her, she stumbles over the roots of a tree and falls to the ground. "Over there!", a voice yells closely behind her. She gets up as quickly as she can and a piercing pain jolts through her. She must've torn or broken something in her joint as she fell. She limbs on trying to use the trees for cover. Another arrow hits the bark of the tree right next to her. She pushes herself off the tree, trying to bring more distance between herself and the men hunting her. Suddenly she loses her footing and finds herself sliding down a slope. Thorny bushes cut her legs, arms and face. The impact leaves a ringing tone in her ears. Her entire body hurts now. For a moment, she's tempted to just lay there and accept her fate. But when she hears the howling men above her, she fights to get back onto her feet again. Her bones feel heavy as she staggers on. She can hear some of the men sliding down the slope as well. Suddenly, she smells smoke in the air. Somebody must be close by!, she thinks. This thought cost her a valuable second and suddenly a pointed force to her right shoulder knocks her down again. Next, she feels a soaring pain from the very same place. When she turns her head to her side, in terror she realizes that an arrow is stuck in her shoulder. She can barely lift her arm now. On her hands and knees, she frantically looks for smoke in the air. Y/n fixes her eyes on the dark clouds of smoke rising into the air just a yard or so from her. It's my only chance, y/n decides. These people might be able to help. They can't be worse than the men that are hunting her. Little did she know, it was quite the opposite. Having found new hope, y/n gets back onto her feet. She starts sprinting again. Ignoring the pain in her foot joint, she pushes her body to the limit. Avoiding arrows out of sheer luck, she manages to avoid getting killed. Finally, she stumbles onto the clearing where the smoke was coming from.
Her eyes fall onto the fireplace first, then at the man sitting next to it. The man only wears dark pants and a pair of boots. He's got blonde spiky hair that stands up in different directions. Necklaces of teeth hand from his neck. All things y/n doesn't register in her panic. That and the giant, red dragon sleeping at the other side of the clearing. The man gets up immediately and grabs a sword that laid across his lap just seconds ago. He looks at y/n angrily, ready to yell or behead her or both. However, he does not get a chance to speak. Y/n's body gives out and she falls onto her knees. "I'm begging you!", she yells out, tears streaming down her face. "Please help me! If you have just an inch of good in you, please find the mercy to help me! They are going to kill me!", she continues to yell. The man looks at her in bewilderment. Nearby, the village men yell in her direction. In horror, she pushes herself up once more and stumbles in the direction of the strange man in front of her. She falls straight into his chest, clinging onto his arm. For a moment, the man looks as if he wants to push her back to the ground again but he doesn't get a chance to do so. One of the men hunting y/n stumbles onto the clearing with a knife in his hand. "There you are, you little slut!", he yells. In fear, y/n clings to the man in front of her. Suddenly, the stranger grabs her right arm. Pain shots from the arrow wound into her fingertips. She looks up and sees the stranger look at the wound with narrowed eyes. Another villager reaches the clearing. This one carries a bow and arrow. The stranger quickly makes the connection between the arrow stuck in y/n's shoulder and the arrow in the man's hand.
The stranger yells something non-understandable and pushes y/n to the side who falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The impact sends more pain through y/n body. "Who the fuck are you? That one belongs to us, find your own toy to play with!" the knife man says and raises his weapon. The stranger exclaims something loud and angry. Again y/n can't understand him. He must speak a different language than her. Suddenly a rumble pierces the air. Y/n's head whips around and the dragon rises to his feet. Y/n's mouth hangs open in disbelief. The man with the arrow yelps in surprise and lets go of his arrow sending it flying in an arbitrary direction. The stranger in front of her doesn't waste a second and uses the distraction to cut the knife guy's throat in a swift movement. In horror, y/n watches as blood gushes out of the horizontal wound and the man chokes on his own body fluids. The man with the bow stumbles backward onto his butt. His eyes are still fixated on the dragon to his right. The stranger harshly steps onto the man's foot. The disgusting sound of breaking bones rings through the air. The man yells in pain and throws his head back. The stranger grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head forward. Angrily, he yells at the villager and when the man only groans in pain, the stranger sticks his sword into his side. The villager lets out a bone-chilling scream. When the villager continues to not answer him, the stranger starts twisting his sword in the wound. The villager throws up on himself and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Y/n can't advert her eyes. She doesn't really comprehend what's happening in front of her. When more yelling is heard at the edge of the clearing, the stranger pulls his sword diagonally through the man's abdomen, creating a wound that makes squishy red things fall out of the man's body. Y/n feels like throwing up. The stranger drops the twitching man and makes its way to the edge of the clearing. What happens next is not registered by y/n who can't help but stare at the gutted man in front of her who keeps twitching until the light has left his eyes. She doesn't hear the screams of terror and death from the other side of the clearing. She doesn't even see the giant beast watching her every move.
Only when the stranger returns with blood dripping down his sword and chest, y/n's consciousness finds its way back into her body. The stranger looks as angry as he has since she entered his clearing. He sounds angry too. He's saying something to her. Looking at it backward, y/n is sure that she wouldn't have been able to understand him even if he spoke her language at this very moment. Only when he stomps closer to her with a raised sword, y/n springs to action and pushes herself backward with one leg, still sitting on the ground. This is it, she thinks, I'm going to die. The man grabs her uninjured shoulder and shakes her. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, her vision starts spinning and her hearing starts to fade. Before she understands what is happening, her world fades to black.
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[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]
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