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benibabe · 2 years

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prince bakugou x f!reader

summary - you never thought the first time you'd leave your tiny fishing village would be on the back of a princes horse.

cws - game of thrones au, same tone as the show. murder, violence, political intrigue, smut, magic, old gods, new gods, choking, true love, lore, allusions to torture, prophecy, reader has brown eyes. dom!bakugou. sub!reader.

chapter 1 - updates on fridays

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With your fishing village burning behind you, you kneel with the rest of the women. When you look around, their eyes are downcast, ashamed. Some of them cry. You, do not. Your hair is loose around your shoulders, your jaw set hard as the smoke from your childhood home blows in your face. You don’t flinch, just stare out at the horizon and the rolling green hills of your homeland, the ocean lying past them, you wonder if that will be the last thing that you ever see.

You don’t recognize the raiders, the huge men who demolished your tiny militia, their armor gleaming in the grey light of a cloudy day. In a town of less than one hundred, your little band of men had been quickly disposed of. You try not to remember the sound your father made as he died, the way your mothers skirt fluttered in the wind as she ran for her life. You wonder if she had gotten away, and if she had, would she return?

You take another breath, watching the patterns of movement in front of you carefully. The soldiers seem almost nervous, one of them is struggling to put out the fire they’d started in your tiny chapel to Nahelenia. The stained glass window of the beautiful sea goddess that you’d all once been so proud of has melted into a puddle of green glinting glass on the dirty street. One of the soldiers shrieks as he steps in the molten liquid, hopping around as it burns the the sole of his shoe.

You hear a sharp sob from the girl next to you, and watch as big childish tears roll down her cheeks. You feel the urge to rebuke her, to calm her, somehow, it feels embarrassing, to show even more weakness to these men as you wait on your knees for near certain death. They’ve gathered about twenty young women, in the town square. There’s a cloud of dust as four knights, in varying levels of armor, and no helmets move around your burning village. They’re young men, you’re sure they’re some kind of nobility, but they’re no one you recognize. Their banner colors are unfamiliar, and you wrack your brain, knowing you were only a full days ride from where your country of Avenia ended, and Yuuei began.

“Oi,” One of the men, you recognize him as the leader, he’d pointed the directions for his men to ride in when you’d seen him through the window of your home as they thundered into town. He’s tall, broad and blonde, and his armor is the cleanest out of all of his men. His eyes are dark and narrow, his nose is delicate and haughty and his voice, his voice is deep and masculine. You’d shunned fear thus far, for shock, for sadness, but when you hear his low rasp again, your heart quickens, and your palms break into a sweat. You see him jerk his head towards the girl next to you, and one of the men, somehow even larger than the leader with bright red hair, reaches for her.

You clutch the small dagger you’ve got hidden in your palm, feeling it bite into your skin and watch carefully as the redhead lifts her to her feet. You only have a second. You know you only have a second, no time to think, or weigh options, or consider the cost. You reach down, grab a fistful of dirt from behind you and spring to your feet.

You throw the dirt in the huge man's eyes, he drops the younger girl, stumbling backwards, you dart around him, sliding on the dry ground, and leap up on top of him, pressing the blade of your knife to his throat.

“Run!” You cry desperately. She takes off, dodging huge hands and large men, the redhead moves to follow her but you press the knife to his neck, blood racing through your veins, roaring in your ears. Your feet are planted on the dirt road of your village, the only home youve ever known, with a blade pressed against the raider's jugular that you can feel him swallow.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” You hear, in that deep, terrifying growl. The blonde knight scowls as he takes in the situation, but no one moves. You peek around the redheads shoulder and make eye contact with the leader.

“L-let them go.” You say, your voice stronger than your conviction. “Let the rest of them go or I’ll kill him, I-I’ll do it.” You look into his eyes, and see the fear there. You press a little harder, blood beads around the blade you’d hidden. “Let them go.” You say again, standing on your tiptoes to reach him. There’s movement behind you and the soldiers in your peripheral vision sheath their swords.

“Get out of here.” The blonde snarls waving a thick arm at the remaining women, and you’re nearly overcome with euphoria as they scatter, see the dust their footprints kicks up, as they carry their children and disappear over the moors. You take a deep breath as the adrenaline fades from your body, wondering what kind of death you’ve doomed yourself to. You feel something cold and metal on the back of your neck.

“Drop it.” The blonde says from behind you. He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Not until I can’t see them.’ This time your voice comes out as a whisper, and the metal thing pressing against the back of your neck is withdrawn.

“You’re surrounded.” He snaps, as if you were being unreasonable, a nuisance. “Drop it now, or we’ll kill you and leave this village to burn as your pyre. We got what we came for.” You see the redhead's eyes flick to his leader when he says this, and you know he’s lying. Your teeth graze your lower lip, the quick burst of pain centers you. You inhale and withdraw your knife, whirling around, and leaping for the blonde, determined to kill as many of them as you can before they kill you. But before your blade can even graze his skin, the blonde catches your wrist and uses your own momentum to throw you chest first onto the dry earth. You cough, gasping for breath as you feel his boot on your back, the knife is wrenched from your hands.

“That’s one tough bitch,” Another man, with long, warmer blonde hair and a warm smile says, hopping off of the porch of a half burnt home. “We got the gold but shit,” He says, glancing around, “What happened to the women?” The pressure on your back grows and you rest the side of your face on the dirt, screwing your eyes shut, unwilling to witness your own end.

“She happened to them.” The leader snarls. You don’t speak, just stare blankly ahead, refusing to give them the satisfaction of your tears. “Not gonna say shit? Done talking now that you’ve fucked everything up for me?” He says, crouching down to get a better look at you. “The fuck do you get off pullin’ that kinda shit? Are you a noble?”

“I’m nothing.” You breathe, hoping your genuine insignificance will spare you. “I’m nothing.” You hear him scoff, and he takes his boot off of your back, swearing violently.

“The hell is Mitsuki gonna say?” One of the other men asks. “The gold is nice, but we were here to round up the possible heirs for the prophecy?”

“That’s my fuckin’ problem,” The leader snaps, “Isn’t it,” he takes your foot off your back, you can hear the metal of his armor clinking as he paces, and when the sound comes near you, you brace for pain. It doesn’t come. Instead you’re hoisted to your feet and shoved at the redhead, who keeps a tight grip on your upper arms. The men observe you, with varying degrees of interest as they load the harvest, the food and cloth and riches that had been carefully stored into the back of a horse-drawn wagon.

“Alright,” The redhead grunts, spinning you around to face him like you’re a ragdoll, “C’mere.” He ties your hands in front of you with a short length of rope. You avoid his gaze.

“She can walk behind my horse.” The blonde growls, and for the first time you see the redhead pause, looking concerned.

“Bakugou, can she?” He asks, glancing over at you nervously, but his leader just narrows his eyes,

“I’ll drag her fuckin’ corpse back to the city,” he roars, “It’s what my mother would do.”

“You are not your mother.” The redhead counters and the leader, Bakugou apparently, rakes his hands through his straw hair. You swallow some bile from your throat. Could you have been so unlucky, to have gotten on Prince Bakugou Katsuki of Yuuei’s bad side? You’d assumed this was some group of roguish nobles, not actual royalty. Yuuei was a neighboring nation, and the relationship had always been tense, peace talks failing for generations. The last time your countries met the negotiation tent had gone up in flames, and the famous Warrior Queen Mistuki had murdered your King Amathar’s eldest son in an impromptu duel.

“And I’m about to get a stern fuckin’ reminder of that,” He says, eyes narrow, lifting his clean blade from it’s sheath. “And you assholes,” He calls to the group of soldiers, “The fuck did I say?” There’s a pause as the redhead tightens the rope around your wrists. “I said don’t fucking kill anyone?” He roars, and the soldiers look sheepish. You study the ground, counting pebbles embedded in the road.

“No one’s going to say anything?” The redhead’s voice cuts through the silence. “You disobeyed a direct order from the Prince? And no one’s got shit to say?” Your surprise and fear at the confirmation that Bakugou was royalty must show on your face because the raven haired knight snorts when you look up.

“I told you you have to stop swearing so much Bakugou,” He snickers, “No one’s gonna believe you’re royalty.”

“Sero, I’ll stop swearin’ when one of these shitheads tells me what the fuck happened here?” Bakugou whirls around, looking at each of the men one by one, who mostly shrug or stare out at the sea.

“Got carried away.” One of them mumbles eventually and Bakugou kicks his legs out from under him, eyes blazing.

“People are dead.” He snarls. “What happened to leave no fucking trace?”

“Isn’t a bigger problem that the women escaped?” The soldier on the other side of him says quickly, “Since they’ll tell other villages that we’re coming?” Bakugou mashes his palms into his eyesockets.

“Of course that’s a fucking problem. One you’re all going to pay for.” He turns to you, and you bite down on your lip again, hoping to stave the fear off from your face, distracting yourself with the burst of self inflicted pain. Prince Bakugou stalks off in a huff, mounting his horse and tugging you along behind him by the rope at the end of your wrists. He ties it to the end of his saddle and the rest of his men get on their horses and start to leave your village.

You stumble forward, following him to the best of your ability, but the princes dappled grey mare is already at a trot, and your foot catches a hole in the dirt. You trip, falling hard, kicking up a cloud of dust. You brace yourself for the drag of the road against your body but it doesn’t come. You see that despite the other horses moving towards the exit of the town that the Prince has stopped, allowing you time to stand again. You swallow, and push yourself to your feet. He goes to start moving again before smacking himself in the forehead, cursing his own weakness.

“Kirishima,” He barks, “Hold.” He leaps off his horse and walks to you. “Normally,” He grunts, “I’d throw you in with the cargo, but you’re fuckin’ trouble.” He undoes the knot around your wrists quickly and for only a moment you're free, before his huge hands lift you by the waist onto the saddle of his horse, hiking up your long skirts so that you can ride straddling it like a man.

A second later, he joins you, sitting in front and grabbing your flailing hands as you attempt to steady yourself. He ties them together again, with the same rope, but this time, around his waist, forcing you to cling to him for stability, your chest pressed up against his back. “Let's go!” He yells, and the horses take off, pulling the wagons off towards the horizon.

“Hold on.” He says to you lowly, as if you have any choice, shamefully pressing your body and face up against his leather clothed back as his horse pulls to the front of the group, hooves kicking up a large cloud of dust in the heavy summer air. You’ve been riding for almost half an hour when he speaks, well out of earshot of the rest of his soldiers. “And the fuck am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“I don’t know.” You breathe, and the quality of your voice takes him by surprise. He’s expecting something harsh, or sad, or angry, but there's so much air in your tone. “Will you make it quick, if I ask you to?” He turns around to look at you quickly, keeping a tight grip on the reins.

“I’m not gonna kill you.” He says incredulous. “I wasn’t gonna kill any of the people in your stupid fucking town.” This doesn’t have the effect he’s hoping for, you don’t betray any emotion, he can feel you sigh against him.

“So you would rather we starve? Since you took all of the food we’d stored?” You say coldly, and his horse leaps over a small brook, forcing you to hold onto him tightly, pressing your face between his shoulder blades.

“Better you than us.” He says gruffly. He waits for you to respond, but you don’t, just holding onto him tightly, shivering even in the heat of summer. He tries again, reaching for words. “There are more important things than one fucking village, alright, we, we’re following orders, but this is bigger than just you.” You don’t respond, and his words leave a bitter taste on his own tongue.

As the sun begins to sink below the horizon you come to a huge stone wall, the largest thing you’ve ever seen. It’s made of a grey stone that glitters in the low light, and it’s as tall as the chapel in your village stacked over itself three times. drawbridge extends with a loud groan for them. The horses thunder over it, their hooves loud on the hollow wood.

You hide your face as best you can, trying not to think of your family, if they’d escaped, if they were alive, focusing only on your immediate surroundings. Bakugou can feel the contours of your face pressing against his back though his leather armor when a cheer erupts from the people at his return. You keep your eyes screwed shut, unsure of what kind of people would cheer for such bloodshed. He keeps one hand on the reins, but you feel his right hand close over yours, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across your tight fists. You don’t open your eyes until you hear the crowd quiet, as you move into another part of the city.

You look around, you’re in a stable, other men getting off their horses and handing them to squires. You feel your wrists being freed, and the Prince roughly pulls you off the saddle and onto your feet. A few squires run over, taking the reins of his horse and leading it away. Two of the men stride over, chests puffed out. One of them reaches for you, running his wet pink tongue over his lower lip.

“Shall we attend to the prisoner, your grace?” Bakugou catches the lascivious spark in their eye, but his decision is made final when you cower a little, flattening your back against his chest.

“I’ve got her.” Bakugou says plainly. “I’m keeping this one.” The two men exchange a quick glance.

“We could see to her gettin’ cleaned up?” The other one says. You avoid his watery blue gaze, studying their dirty boots. He takes your arm and attempts to draw you away from the Prince, who yanks you back and snarls,

“Are you fuckin’ touchin’ what I’ve said is mine?” They blanch, and immediately both men are flapping their hands in apology, and backing away.

“No, no sire, of course not we would never-”

“Then fuck off.” The prince snaps, rolling his eyes as he turns to face the other knights, who are gathering behind him. The redhead, Kirishima, speaks first.

“That’s a good call.” He says quietly, glancing at the soldiers who are now rushing to put Bakugou’s horse away, and then he looks down at you. “So,” he shoots you a weary smile, rubbing the little scratch on his neck from your handiwork. “Do I get to know the name of the girl who held me at knifepoint?”

“No.” You don’t even look at him, eyes on your warped reflection in his breastplate. Unlike the Prince, the rest of the knights were in full metal armor. Kirishima’s eyes widen with incredulity.

“She’s fucking wild!” Kirishima turns to Prince Bakugou, “What the hell are you going to do with a woman who won’t even tell you her name?” Bakugou scowls, tying the rope around your waist and then pulling your arms behind you, looping the rope around them and holding the end of the rope tightly.

“We’ll have to wear her down.” Bakugou says in his low threatening rasp, speaking as if you can’t hear him. “You’re gonna take her on a little walk, through the dungeon, and she’s gonna behave after she’s seen that shit.” Kirishima shudders and nods.

“Yeah, actually, I bet she will.” He watches you struggle against the ropes butYou struggle against the ropes but Bakugou leads you forward, you step out of the stable and into the cobble stoned streets. It’s busy, people coming to and from the market, carrying sorry looking vegetables, some coughing in the dusty air. The prince causes quite a stir, people part for him and his knights, staring at you, obviously foreign in your tattered dress, obviously a prisoner.

“Heretic!” Someone yells, and you artfully dodge some rotten fruit.

“How fucking dare you!” Bakugou yells, whirling on the drunken man holding more rotting food, and the street quiets. He looks around, eyes dark and wild. You stare dead ahead, not speaking. He draws you closer to him, you feel his hand on your hip. “C’mon.” He says lowly, and pulls you deeper inside the city walls, moving more quickly. You step eventually, into a huge stone gate, the dirty residential landscape changing into a lush garden, a huge palace built into the side of a mountain in front of you. Most of the men have fallen away, it’s just Kirishima, the darker blonde, Sero and a knight you barely recognize with long lilac hair.

“Should we get our stories straight?” He says, and you notice the bags under his eyes match the violet hue of his locks, “Since we have her, and no one else?” Bakugou sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your hip in a way that sends your stomach somersaulting towards nausea.

“I’ll take care of it.” He rubs his eyes. “I’ll take the fall for the other women escapin’ but not for the deaths at the village. That’s bullshit,” he turns to the purple haired knight, “Shinsou I’m gonna lean on you and your network to figure out what the fuck happened there.” He nods.

“I’ll see what’s being said but,” you hold his gaze for a moment before he drops it, and goes back to looking at the Prince, “But you and I both know where the trail leads.” He looks ahead and you follow his eyes to the spire of a huge cathedral, made from a dark stone, with black wrought iron and bronze accents. It’s one of the largest buildings you’ve ever seen. You shrink a little in it’s shadow.

“We told them,” Kirishima pipes up, coming to walk next to the Prince, “Denki, Sero, you were there, we told them, no harm comes to the villagers.” You’re having trouble focusing your vision, dehydration creeping in, your stomach is aching and empty.

“I know,” The prince grumbles, as you come to a heavy iron gate, that opens to reveal lush gardens, green grass and well kept pathways. The sun hangs low in the sky, painting the courtyard with a golden light. The difference between life outside this gate and here is so jarring you blink a couple times, wondering if you’re finally going into shock. “S’not good though.” He presses his lips together and you stumble, bracing yourself to hit the ground hard. The prince moves with catlike agility, wrapping one muscular arm around your waist and righting you. He stands you back up, the hint of an apology in his face. “Speakin’ of uh,” he swallows, “You uh, how are you holdin’ up?” You balk, narrowing your eyes at him.

“My family may be dead.” You say quietly, interrupting their conversation. “If this performance is helping you sleep at night, I would ask that it be conducted outside of my presence.” All five of them stare at you, dumbfounded but you refuse to look at anyone but the princes. Bakugou’s jaw drops open.

“Performance?” He growls.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re sorry,” you shake your head, “I”m no spy or noble, there’s nothing to be gained from my favor. I have little doubt that when you want something from me you’ll take it, like you took our food and our gold.” Your words hang heavy in the summer air.

“And what the fuck do you think I want from you?” He says, voice so quiet his words are nearly swept away by the breeze. Your mouth gets even dryer now. “Besides for you to keep your fucking mouth shut while I’m talkin’?” He grabs your jaw so hard that your cheeks squish around his calloused hands. He tips your face up to his. “Maybe I shoulda introduced myself I’m Prince Bakugou Katsuki, your royal-’ “You’re not my royal anything,” you barely get the words out around his fingers. “You don’t rule in my country.” There are a couple of nervous chuckles from the nights as the princes eyes blaze.

“Prince Bakugou!” Someone rushes out of the big stone building across the courtyard before he can respond, “You must dress to see your parents.” He reluctantly releases your face and shoves you toward Kirishima who catches you and stands you up again.

“See if you can do something about her attitude before I have to explain her existence to my parents.” Bakugou hisses, before jogging towards the castle.

“We’ll getcha cleaned up!” Kirishima says cheerfully, “Come on.”

“You can’t be serious,” Denki says, as Kirishima pulls you along the pathway beside the castle. “You’re gonna take her into the mens baths?”

“She’s filthy!” Kirishima protests, “Bakugou stepped on her!”

“That was a touch dramatic,” The raven haired man, Sero, muses. “But I suppose it was necessary, given the resistance she’s been showing.” You lift your head and turn to the men, unwilling to let them slip out of this easily.

“What did you kill for?” You ask, voice barely audible, having not eaten or drank since that morning. “What is the reason your armor is bloodied?” Kirishima looks uncomfortable, walking a little faster.

“I can’t discuss the finer points of holy war with you.”

“Holy war?” You repeat, “Our countries are not at war we-”

“This is not about Avenia and Yuuei.” Shinsou says softly. “This is about Yuuei and Aed.” You reach into the back of your memory, to the one room schoolhouse you’d attended with five other children in your village.

“The sun god?”

“He’s a lot more than a sun god,” the honey blonde says, flipping some hair out of his face. “He’s the god who consecrated our royal lineage. Prince Bakugou’s great, great grandfather.”

“He doesn’t behave like a god.” You mutter and Kirishima chuckles but Shinsou looks troubled.

“Question,” he says, his voice utterly emotionless. “Up until this point you seemed rather determined to live through this ordeal, correct?” You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off, rubbing his chin as he muses, “I’m wondering at what point you acquired your desire to become intimately acquainted with the hangmans noose?” You whirl on him.

“Maybe it was when I had to listen to you discuss the deaths of my family like they were a mere inconvenience for you?” You snap and he seems genuinely taken aback. There’s an awkward silence.

“Are you,” Shinsou says, crossing his arms and walking in front of you, “Are you determined to die, or do you want to live?” You take a deep breath, wondering if it’s worth it to hold onto hope that anyone you know truly escaped, whether even the women you freed would be hunted down like rats in a kitchen. “It’s a simple question.” He drawls, “I know you’re likely undereducated, but-”

“I want to live.” You lift your head to his. “And I can read. And write.”

“Just your name or-” You take a step forward and Kirishima yanks you back against his chest.

“I think Shinsou’s point,” Kirishima says, giving the man a stern look, “Is that if literally any other person heard you disparage Aed or the Prince you’d already be dead.” You turn, looking up at him, the first sign of genuine concern in your eyes. “And it wouldn't be a quick death, either." He pauses, and impulsively spins you around, inspecting you.

“You’re right,” Sero says, speaking the group of mens thoughts into being, “It’s weird that you’re not crying.”

“Like I’d grant you the satisfaction.” You say, but there’s no venom left in your voice, only exhaustion.” Shinsou rubs his eyes.

“I give her until sunrise.”

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt her!” Kirishima protests, “If that means I have to gag her, I will.”

“I don’t think I’ll live long past sunrise.” You argue, “And I'd like to be able to tell my parents why they’re dead when I join them so whatever you can tell me about the holy war and Aed would be appreciated.”

“You’re going to be fine.” He says and you scoff. “Fine. Fine.” He says. “There’s a rumor, that has become deeply substantiated, that King Amathar of Avenia sired a bastard daughter among the women in your part of the country while on vacation there at his summer castle.” They start walking again, towards a white building with dark brown accents, built right up against the side of the mountain. Behind it is the face of a huge cliff, made of unfinished glittering grey rock, speckled with light green.

“He’s got dark eyes, like you, dark ones.” Sero explains. “And they’re a rival nation, so we’ve been ordered to round up all the dark eyed women from those villages and bring them back here. We’ve got a tower full of em.”

“Bakugou doesn't want her in the tower.” Denki sneers. “He wants her tied to his head board. Maybe gagged, though.” You whirl on him, fear in your eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t scare the maiden!” Kirishima snaps, his warm voice almost unkind but Denki rolls his eyes. The purple haired knight massages his temples. “We just calmed her down.”

“We’ve been raiding for weeks,” Denki shrugs, “How many women rode on his horse?”

“None.” Sero pipes up helpfully. “But no one else freed the other captives and made themselves a threat either. So-”

“Prince Bakugou,” Kirishima says, through his teeth, “Was doing his due diligence as an heir to the throne of Yuuei.” he sighs and turns to you. “It was prophesied that the daughter of King Amathar would bring peace to our warring nations with her power. As the great grandaughter of Nahelenia.” You test the ropes around your wrists again, they hold fast. You remember the pool of melted stained glass, the smoking chapel.

“My father was a tailor.” You say quietly.

“You only think your father was a tailor,” Denki says with a smile and a teasing tone, “You don’t know what your mother was doing, maybe gallivanting around castles, meeting strange men-”

“My father bled out on the floor of my childhood home this morning.” You snap, tears almost welling in your eyes but you’re just too dehydrated to make them spill, your voice cracks under the weight of your emotion. “At the hands of your men.” You yank on the rope in Kirishima’s hands but he’s too fast, holding it tightly all you can do is snarl at the blonde, “So I’ll thank you to keep his memory out of your fucking mouth.” There’s an awkward silence, Denki stalks off without another word. You feel hands on your waist and Kirishima steers you away, forward towards the bathhouse.

“You have to be careful.” Shinsou says lowly, dismissing the other men with a wave of his hand. “About what you say, and how you say it, and particularly, who you say it to,” He looks behind him at the other knights, who look mostly entertained by your outburst, if not a little shocked. “They’re not trouble, alright, they’d die for Bakugou.” You swallow. “Not everyone feels that way at court. It’s dangerous.” He touches your arm softly. “And I’m so sorry about your father, if I’d seen them, I would have stopped it.”You feel Kirishima’s hand on your arm, Shinsou reaches out and brushes some dirt from your cheek. They wait, for the vulnerability they’re accustomed to, from the women they’ve shepherded back to do the paternity test on, wait for you to burst into tears, to cling to one of them, but you don’t move. You just stare angrily off into the distance. He speaks again, feeling a little awkward. “Do you need anything?”

“Water.” You say, and Shinsou nods, uncapping his skein and bringing it to your lips. It’s sweet, if a touch stale, cold and clean and you gulp it down so quickly that it dribbles down your chin. Kirishima wipes it away with his thumb.

“I’ll get you some clothes.” He says, ``Since Bakugou asked me to attend to you.” He looks a little sheepish. “I uh, We can’t be alone, really,” he gestures to the other knights, “With you, since uh, you know we need to make sure you don’t have children with anyone but the prince.” You gape at him, dumbfounded.

“I’m not a virgin.” You say, and he blanches.

“Really?”

“Really.” You say dryly, wondering if you’ve signed your death warrant.

“Have you bled since-”

“Yes.” you cut him off. “I’m a widow. He passed a year ago.” Kirishima looks relieved.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But uh, I can’t be alone with you either way, so two of us at least will watch you bathe, so that we can be sure you are, ah, untouched, at least while you're here.” He looks intensely uncomfortable, and you decide to let him stew in that feeling for a while.

They guide you through the doors of their quarters, tossing their armor and dirty clothes on animal skin couches. Shinsou leaves them, pulled away by some servant nervously rambling about tomorrows ceremony. You stand awkwardly, still bound in the corner. You study the rafters, avoiding their varying degrees of nakedness.

“Alright,” Kirishima grunts, and he knocks you off your feet, carrying you down a flight of stairs, followed by the other men. The basement of the building is a hot spring, the walls are white plaster, the floors are stone. It’s lit with torches, and there’s a small stone bank before it gives way to a pool of crystal water. There are bars of soap and jars of oil beside it, and the other two knights bypass you, jumping into what must be warm water by the look on their faces. Kirishima hesitates, turning to you.

“You’ll be provided new clothes.” He says. “But if you do not wish to bathe with them on, you have my word that no one will touch you.” You swallow.

“I’ll leave them on.” You mumble, and he nods, carefully loosing the rope around your waist and wrists, guiding you into the water slowly. It is warm. In your shoes, petticoat and full skirt, your movement is limited, but you can't help the deep sigh that escapes from your lips as you sink beneath the water, only to have Kirishima yank you out of it by the waist

“I can’t let you drown yourself!” He says, dark eyes full of worry. You shake your head at him indignantly.

“I can swim, I come from a fishing village!” You retort, and his face colors, and then he looks pensive in a way you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Oh.” He swallows, looking sheepish. “Just uh, okay, fine. Stick by me.” Denki and Sero strip completely, luxuriating in the water. Kirishima watches you clean yourself, fully clothed, your hair soaking, tendrils of it sticking to your face. You take the soap they left and wash your face and hair, the mud leaching from your clothes. You’re a little ashamed of how the water darkens around you, but you don’t let it show on your face, locking your jaw and holding your chin straight. After some time, you are led out of the water, standing in your sopping wet dress, long skirts dripping on the floor of the bath cavern. Kirishima runs up the stairs and leaves you alone with the two other men. The dark haired one, Sero, you remember, speaks.

“Sorry, again. About your family.” You don’t even spare him against a glance. “In all seriousness,” he says lifting himself out of the water, “Prince Bakugou is upset. That’s not how we conduct ourselves normally.”

“We are alone, correct?”

“We are.” He says, cocking his head in confusion. You sigh deeply, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth in your drenched clothes.

“Then know that I don’t mean this combatively, genuinely, is it supposed to make me feel better,” you say, voice barely audible, “that their deaths meant nothing to you?” Neither man speaks again, and when Kirishima returns to eerie silence, he hands you some clothing.

“We’ll avert our eyes.” He says, and you scoff, but it seems like they do, even Denki seems at least to fear Bakugou enough not to look. The clothing is different than anything you’ve experienced, a pale pink gown, tight at the waist, long and flowing down to the floor. It pushes your cleavage up, framing it high on your chest. You are not, however, given new shoes and Kirishima winces when you look at him, confused.

“They don’t want you walking much.” You swallow. “Alright, but I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying and we’ll getcha comfy, hopefully this can be over soon.” You let him lead you up the steps, rope back tied around your waist, but your hands free. The two men dress quickly and follow.

“Can you hold onto my clothes?” You ask, and he looks at you, seeing the genuine sadness in your eyes.

“I will see them returned to you.” He says, very seriously. “And the paternity test is ah, a bit of a spectacle, but something tells me you’ll be alright.”

“Any luck so far?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not a drop of royal blood among the women we’ve taken. But we hold onto them for now because if they ran free they could spread the word about the prophecy.” You exit what must be the knight's quarters and cross the courtyard under cover of darkness, the bugs singing in the wet grass.

He opens a heavy wooden door on the side of the palace and you descend several flights of stairs. It becomes cooler, and darker, but as you move through the stone hallways you realize with a shiver where you are.

“A dungeon cell?” You ask, incredulous, “For a tailor's daughter? I’m, I’m nothing, I’m nobody.” For the millionth time, Kirishima looks contrite, avoiding your gaze.

“You should ah, I should have said, but you’ll need to call us, uh because we’re Knights, you’ll need to call us Sir. I’m Sir Kirishima.” You roll your eyes and he takes the ring of keys off of his hip and opens a side door, yanking you inside quickly. You find yourself alone with the huge man, the last thing you see outside is Denki and Sero moving to guard the doors, in a dark closet, and you feel his fist close around your throat.

“If you’re a spy, tell me now, and I’ll spare you a traitor's death.” He says, an honest desperation in his tone.

“A spy?” You wheeze, clawing at his fist.

“A traitors death in Yuuei horrible,” he says, inspecting you carefully, like he doesn’t even feel you fighting him, “Sometimes women are boiled alive, or thrown to the masses, so if you’re a spy, I’ll spare you, it will come out. Tell me now,” You claw at his fist,

“I’m simply,” you choke out, “A tailor's daughter, please Kirishima,” your eyes water, and he tightens his grip before dropping it, letting you fall to your knees coughing.

“There are things at work,” he breathes, eyes darting towards the door, “And we could, we could use allies. I’ll let uh, I’ll let Bakugou talk to you, but I’d like your proof, right now, that you’re not from Avenia to spy on us, that you weren’t a plant in that village.”

“I can swim. That’s-That’s rare.” You say gasp, desperately peering into his eyes for a hint of mercy. “And,” you gulp air, you’re exhausted, “And you’ve got my families blood in the tread of your fucking boots, so if you think I’d goddamn help you you’re insane.” He looks a little relieved.

“I see.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond to that, kicking open the door and dragging you into the hallway - right in front of a very confused looking guard. Denki and Sero had been flanking the door, listening intently it seems. Kirishima wastes no time conjuring an excuse, groping your ass through the cushion of your dress, hands lingering on your waist.

“Ahh,” the guard says, a sly smile on his lips, “Carry on.” You feel Kirishima’s lips on your ear.

“Think about it. You’re not going to have a lot of offers of allyship.” He says gruffly, before silently taking the lead on the rope and dragging you down the hallway. The cell is dark and cool, you swallow nervously at the lack of windows, a wet spot on the wall glistening in the flickering torchlight. He pulls you inside the heavy barred door and picks up a chain from the floor, loosing your wrists and then chaining them in front of you. He stops, taking a step back from you, looking at you one last time.

“Trust us.” He says quietly, “If you can stomach it. And maybe you’ll survive” And just like that he’s gone, leaving you alone in the bowels of a palace with only your thoughts and the soft snores of other prisoners down the hall for company. You curl up in a corner, close your eyes, head throbbing. You think about your father, the man who raised you, of the fear in his eyes when he’d dove for the man kicking your door down, the pain in his voice when he told you to run. You let out a single, dry sob, holding your face in your hands, and the sound echoes down the hallway, following Kirishima out of the dungeon, and into the cool night air.

please have an age in your bio and be 18+ before interacting with this fic. reblogs/comments appreciated, and encouraged.

#i love yn #you go girl #can’t wait for ch 2 👀

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benibabe · 2 years

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this THIS is literally my favorite zoro smut ever. i love how you’re not afraid to write him all mean and rough, but you can still see how much he WANTS you :( thinks you’re a dumb bimbo and beautiful all in one <3 he’s so nice giving you kisses and letting you cum. he acts like he’s the shit with his little mean words (<3) but he wants this as much as you. meanie!zoro is the best 💞

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐭𝐞 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊

summary: being stupid and mean around is especially funny when your victim is zoro. he has all the things to be hated by your and your flawless judgement—he's gross, behaves bad and gives a shit about you, the prettiest girl he could ever get the crumbles of attention. he barely talks back, but the joke never gets old. it's your favorite hobby until the day he proves you he's more than a man that doesn't care about your beauty. he's evil, a sadist man, the one you'd never submit to. even if he has the greatest abs and his happy trail is deliciously hot.

warnings: nsfw. modern!au, bimbo bully!reader, humiliation, dumbification, mean dom!zoro, oral(f and m), more humiliation, dacryphilia, choking, spit, degradation, a few of face and ass smacks (both receiving), rough sex. characters are all +18. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

part i | part iii coming soon because it didn't fit here /sob.

Once it's Saturday again, you feel better about what happened days ago. Zoro keeps ghosting your deepest thoughts, but you can push it away easily. To end this problem at once, today you're hanging out with your friends, at a fancy restaurant known for having pretty waiters. You'd even think about letting any of the guys have your phone to a fuck date. Zoro doesn't mean a thing for you and you can do whatever you prefer.

Thinking about it, you leave the bathtub, wrapping yourself around the fluffy towel. You rapidly put your lingerie on, a comfortable set in a lacy pink fabric, admiring yourself on the full length mirror. Your body looks very pretty decorated with the lingerie set, and you wonder if you were the one who took the shirt off, Zoro would admire you as you do. Damn it. You shouldn't be thinking about him. You sigh and go dress up, the short skirt and a cute cropped with thin fabric. Tennis is your first choice, but you replace them with comfortable sandals.

Once you like what you see, you do your makeup. While you draw with the eyeliner around your eyes, you think of yourself crying and having a blurred make up as you get fucked dumb. Obviously, he's the first you think of. He'd laugh at your tears, probably, stupid like he is. Thinking too much, you do your eyes makeup heavier than usual. You complete with a bimbo-girl-red lipstick, catch your purse and go downstairs, where your parents are waiting for you—mom and dad gladly will take you to the restaurant, so you can drink alcohol without worrying about driving back home.

When you reach the entrance of your big house, the motherfucker man that keeps inside your brain is casually talking with your parents. Waiting a minute to show up, you listen to what they're talking about. Bullshit like car sports and how his car seems to be a loved one. Probably Zoro has an old vintage car, large enough to fuck—

Damn it. Don't think about it. You enter the room and your parents greet you.

"We didn't know your friend would come over to pick you up, darling", your mom says, lovely, catching her own purse and holding onto your father's arm. "He said you're going together, so we are going now, daughter"

"Hey, but I didn't—", you start, but Zoro approaches and uses his thumb to clean a fake dirt from your cheeks. You fluster, but push his hand away.

"Be quiet", he commands. Dumbly, you obey and watch your parents leaving the room and soon the house. Then you're alone with a hell of a person Zoro is.

It can't be worse.

"I'm calling someone if you don't leave me at the place I need to be", you warn him, angrily staring at his eyes.

"Calm down e show me your room, dumb Barbie", he chuckles, going to the stairs without being invited. Doesn't he have good manners? God.

"Hey!", you yell, but he doesn't turn back. Instead, he keeps going upstairs, until he's on the last step, looking down with a cocky smirk.

"The more you refuse to follow me, the more you're late to your date. Would your friends like to know you're late because of me?"

You jump to the stairs when he starts to follow towards your room—there's no doubt he already understands what's your room, since the open door has a childhood age tag with your name. And it's baby pink. The whole decoration. You feel embarrassed when Zoro reaches your room and looks around with a mocking expression. When you stay by his side, he looks at you with the same joking eyes.

"Do you take the stuffies off when you're having sex?", he asks.

You hit his biceps with your shoulder, but he doesn't move any centimeter. You walk to your bed and put the medium white teddy bear under your pillows, hiding him.

"Don't fucking ask me things like this, you pervert", you answer. "Get out of here, I need to go".

Zoro ignores. You start to think he's with you just to be a pain in the ass, moving your stuff on your desk, turning lights on and off like a kid. When he sits on your bed, you turn around and discover the door is closed—locked—and there's no sign of your keys.

That bullshit again?

He lazily take his fucking shirt off as you keep staring at him, about to scream for him to give the keys. But once again you're hypnotized with the sight of his sculptural body. This time, you don't need to get closer to smell his natural scent mixed with a strong perfume.

"Wear that shit, Zoro", you say loudly. "I don't want to see you half naked. You're gross". Gross, but the thought of approaching and touching him further sounds attractive. You sigh.

"You seemed to like it the other day", he teases, lying down on your bed, watching the LED lights turning pink, then blue, then pink again. He looks at you. "You even touched. Remember?"

You sure do. Remember as it happened a few minutes ago, his warm skin under your fingertips, his heavy and calm breath, the way you touched his V-line and thought about what comes next. It made your legs weak and your cunt fucking wet, never stopping even after using fingers and damn toys to forget about it. It wasn't enough, though. He's the one you want to have, his fingers are what you want to feel buried into your core.

Instead of admitting it, you look away.

"I didn't touch you. I was looking for the key", you babble, dumbly. Fucking liar, not even you believe in your words. "Give me my key, I won't ask again"

Zoro shakes his head in a negative answer. He has his phone on his hand and points to it. You get your own, about to call your friends. Maybe they can pick you up.

Zoro seems to approve of what you're doing. You sit on your bed as well, far away from the annoying man, and wait for your friend to answer.

When she does, somehow he is conscious about it and comes closer, pulling your phone and putting it on speaker mode. He's right behind you, chest almost touching your back. You feel your mind dizzy and nervous when he whispers: "Answer. Tell her you're staying with me tonight".

You deny, "Wait a minute, sis", and put the call on mute.

"If you do what I say, I'll let you touch me again, but the way you truly want", his words are almost tender if it wasn't for the way his finger is on your neck and collarbone.

"Fuck off", you reply and go back to the call.

"You're not coming?", your friend asks. "We're just waiting for you"

Instead of properly asking for help, you freeze. Zoro's fingers are on your bare waist, slowly tracing your sensitive skin.

"I…", you start. But Zoro picks the phone out of your hand before you finish.

"She's busy sucking my dick, girl. You can hang out later", and the call is over before you can deny it.

For god's sake. Don't let them recognize who said that shit on the phone. Don't let you think too much about how it was hot and interesting, making your panties soak. Don't let you thirst like this, eager for the moment you finally will get to touch his cock.

"Don't touch me", you push his hand away before he starts to finger under your cropped. You look at him, angry. "What the fuck is your problem? I'm going today, you idiot".

He frowns, probably thinking of you as a stupid girl. He always looks at you like this, yet you're not used to how low it makes you feel. "Let's bet on something. If you want to go, just spread your legs and let me see you're neither wet nor thinking of me", Zoro suggests. "If you prove that to me, I will give you the key."

You raise an eyebrow, instantly pressing your thighs together. No. You're not going to do it. Never.

"No way, piece of dirt", you answer. "You're the one dreaming about me. Let me see you're not hard and you give me it."

"It what? My dick?" You roll your eyes. "Just show me already", you ask.

You have no intention to show how shamely wet you are, but it would be funny to check on him. Maybe even giving more material for your imagination to work on your fantasies. You can't deny you want to see what's under his pants, after the V-line. And he has no shame to show you, finding it almost cute when you look away, then look again at his pants.

"See? I'm cool. You're the one aroused", he smirks.

He's not lying. You can see him super chill, not even bothered by the thought of you giving him a blowjob. Or by touching your skin the way you did—and felt turned on. He's normal, his mind doesn't betray him like yours. He probably doesn't even feel attracted to you.

You lost the unsaid bet, so Zoro keeps hiding the key. This time you can't see its silhouette on his pocket. Or even worse, he might have put this into his underwear, like a grossing man. The thought gets you making a grimace.

"What's wrong?", he asks. He doesn't care, though you answer that it is nothing. "Feel free to prove to me I'm wrong to think you're wet just because you're next to me", he jokes, blinking an eye.

"Shut up, pervert", you say, your hand slapping his face.

He pulls your wrist far from his face before you repeat it. He comes closer, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. His eyes are burning and you wonder if it's the day he's going to hit you back. But he smirks, pressing his fingers onto your wrist.

"Didn't your parents give you a class of manners when you were a child?", Zoro says exactly the same words you did days ago. Staring at your mouth he continues. "I mean, why do you talk like a dumb bitch?"

You can bet he's going to kiss you. His lips are so, so close, and you wait for the moment they reach yours. You don't feel like answering, just waiting. He's going to kiss you, isn't he?

Zoro is pleased with your needy expression. It's enough—now he knows you're just playing dumb and acting like you don't want, don't need him. So he frees your wrist.

"You're going to pay for it, soon, Barbie", his tone is as serious as ever. Your skin burns where he touched. "I'm not your toy for you to hit me like this."

"You're just a ridiculous man. I don't care about you", you mumble, less braver than before, looking down, where his abs are. You can't let yourself be fucked up because of a piece of hot body with no brain added. Zoro keeps watching you silently. His eyes analyze each move you make, every breath you take, every twitch of your shaky body. He probably knows his threat did nothing but left you even more wet, your panties starting to be annoyingly soaked. You need to take it off. But you can't imagine the humiliation it would be to take it off and Zoro gets the proof you're aching for him. Dreaming of him.

Damn it.

You're lost. You want him to leave so you can find the hot waiters, but you also want him to stay and make you pay for the slap on your face. Maybe he's going to hit your ass a few times? You're not the kinkier, but you can handle this.

Yes, you can and could even ask for it. His hands are fucking pretty, heavy and strong. Probably look great holding your waist as he thrusts into you with the other hand stroking your clit.

In your dreams, he'd even let you cum.

Speaking of hand, it's on your waist again.

"I can hear your filthy thoughts from right here, dumb Barbie", Zoro calls you that stupid nickname once more. "If you tell me all of them and ask like a good bitch, I can do what you dream".

Can he?, you wonder. You're too weak, ready to fall into his trap, admitting you want him bad. God. Don't give in, don't give in, don't give in.

"Seeing you like a lost puppy is quite funny, you know?", his fingers go to your cropped top fabric, slowly rubbing your hard nipples over it. You push his hand, yet you want him to continue. "I think of how many ways I can break you down", his voice is just a whisper in your ear, closer than ever. "But I'd put you back together again if you deserve."You leave the bed, walking fast until you’re not close to him anymore. In front of the mirror, you feel pity about all your pretty outfit and makeup. You look good today, ready for getting some dick and now you’re stuck with this thing.

“Fuck off, troglodyte”, you murmur, showing the middle finger behind you. “You annoy me. I was so good today, ready for finding a man that can actually treat me right and you don’t let me go. Are you in love with me or something?”

Zoro goes to where you are, laughing at your words. You notice that, again, your voice is sounding quite bad and high, and self consciousness makes you embarrassed. You feel like hitting him again, or maybe kicking him in his balls? He deserves it, anyway. The man keeps silent until the moment he is behind you, just a few centimeters separating the two of you. He stares at you in the mirror, devilishly approaching his hands from your waist again. The part of exposed skin you have is hot under his touch, his cold fingers being awfully perfect to touch you.

You want more. But if you keep thinking things like this, you will not be able to hide how wet, aroused you are. How much you want him—a flaw of yours: your eyes are like an open book. It would take him just a few seconds to understand what the meanings of your desperate gazes are.

When his chest touches your back, you feel like pressing your legs and ass onto his body. It doesn’t matter if he's not hard or something. You just want to feel something and relieve the secret you keep between your legs. Squeezing thighs is not enough anymore, you need something else.

Maybe he is thinking of using his fingers to touch you down there.

You close your eyes, not wanting to see him anymore. Zoro has his unusual green hair, lazy eyes and a mouth that talks shit too much for you to think it’s good to feel it. His torso is completely hot, his hands are something more than other hands you’ve felt. His fingers are calloused, hard and thick. They might feel good inside you. No, they wouldn’t. You can’t think otherwise.

“Look at the mirror, dumb girl”, you hear him saying. Rude words, calling you names you don’t like to hear. Then why does it feel good when it comes from his smooth and low voice? Why do you want to hear even the worst names? You open your eyes and see yourself, Zoro behind you and that motherfucking hand going to your neck. You gulp a second before he wraps his fingers around it—why didn’t you stop him?

“Do you want me to touch you?”, he asks.

You shake your head in a negative answer, face contorting.

“I don’t, dirtbag”, you roll your eyes.

His fingers press your skin a little more, and your breath becomes heavy and fast. He seems to like the way your chest is up and down because of it, shamelessly staring at your cropped top. But soon he looks at your eyes again.

“Watch your own eyes and tell me you’re not lying. Can you?”

It’s not a simple question. Can you? He’s commanding and controlling the fuck you should say. He already saw the lust and desire in your eyes; you’re lost anyway. If you tell him the truth things could even be easier. Although you prefer to fake it.

“I… No, I don’t want you”, you say. Fuck. Shaky voice doesn’t help you to lie.

He smirks.

“Oh. Your parents didn’t tell you how ugly it is for pretty girls to lie in such a way?”

"I am no—", you try to defend yourself, but Zoro speaks first.

"If you get on your knees right now and apologize", his hands go to your chest, then your waist, and he stops to hold your hips. You can't help but shake your hips side to side, not sure if to make him stop touching you or to feel his body behind you. He strokes the skirt's fabric slowly and you find yourself almost crying for a few more touches. "You can have the honor of having that stupid mouth of yours full of my dick. Isn't it a great idea?"

His eyes are fucking filled with evil. His smirk is fucking hot, but scary as well. You see in the mirror when he pulls your skirt up and finger your thighs until he's so damn close to your soaked panties. No, no, no. He can't touch you there. Zoro can't find out more proves that he makes you stupid and thinking of fucking dumb while you hug your pillow.

Because, of course, if you ever fuck him, you're not going to see his face, his cocky smirk. He's so gross. His fingers come closer and when he accidentally—you think—hits your clit, you tense your body, hearing your own voice. It's not you, though. You'd never moan with such a small touch.

The confirmation that Zoro heard it as well is his hands on your shoulder again, rapidly. "Get on your knees", he whispers. You deny doing as he said, yet your legs tremble to kneel. It takes your whole strength to resist the temptation.

But then he murmurs again. "I'm not telling again. I'll leave you alone and you'll never get the fuck you want", and you fall on your knees, embarrassed to watch your own gaze through the mirror. The girl's eyes are pitiful, like you're the worst person in the world.

You betrayed yourself, after all.

Although, it feels great when you look up and find Zoro's eyes satisfied. He seems to be about to tell you are a good girl. Because you are, aren't you? You did what he said, you deserve praise. You deserve a deep kiss, fingers pushing your panties to the side and fucking you, your legs around his face as he eats you out. You're so good. You need to receive it.

Zoro doesn't agree, though. He turns around and sits on your bed once more, spreading his legs as he looks at you with a gaze that makes you feel small, insignificant like a fly.

Dumbly, you don't stand up when he tells you to come closer. You feel your face all hot as you approach, your pride being stepped every second. It tastes bitter like humiliation and you suddenly feel afraid that Zoro is going to make your taste your own poison.

No, you're sure he's doing it. He's already started.

Zoro pats your head when you're in front of him, between his legs, leaning your arms on your thighs. With one hand caressing your hair and forehead, the other goes to your cheeks. He smirks before doing the same you did to him—probably a weaker smack than you gave him, but hurts as hell because of how much you like it. For god's sake.

You open your mouth. That must be a hoe's instinct, to be in front of a man and be ready to suck him off until he says he's bored with your mouth. Zoro likes to see your face when you notice it and press your lips together, biting them, rolling eyes to the top and sighing like you're not feeling good. But both of you know you're in your natural position. He's ready to break you and you're ready to give him what he needs to do it.

"Did you forget about the main part? Apologize", you listen to his low voice.

You deny it. No way. You can't say you're sorry for being annoying and an idiot. Because you're not. You love feeling superior when you talk to Zoro at school and you don't regret a word.

Instead of telling you this, you play his game. Just for today, you promise.

"I'm sorry, Zoro. Didn't mean to be so bad to you", you say. Your voice is not pitiful enough, your eyes are lazy and not even a single tear.

Bad liar.

You watch Zoro analyzing your face as he strokes your nape, sometimes even pulling your hair. He hums, maybe thinking of ways to make you pay for your lies?

"You didn't, uh?", he finally says. "But I meant to be mean", he's shameless to say it, thumb rubbing your lips. "Suck", he commands.

Zoro pushes his finger into your mouth. You pretend to accept it, curling your tongue around, but soon you bite mercilessly. It must have hurted, yet he doesn't wave and continues to press your tongue under his thumb, staring at you with funny eyes.

"Are you angry?", Zoro asks. You don't get the chance to say, because he puts two different fingers inside your mouth, pushing them in and out. You feel your lips full of your own saliva, it drooling to your chin.

You hate how it feels good. His fingers are long and you think of him doing the same moves inside your cunt. You sit on your legs to press your thighs together and relieve the pressure, but he pulls you up by your hair.

"I know you're desperate for having a cock inside you, dumb girl. It's all you can think about now, isn't it? But I didn't say you can move", Zoro pushes his fingers once more until it's touching your throat. You almost choke and your eyes fill up with tears.

"Good."

His hands leave your body. Zoro isn't touching any part of you anymore and you miss it. You keep looking at the man's fingers, previously inside your mouth, as he strokes himself over the fabric of his pants. Take it off, you think. Please, take it off and have a small dick that turns me off. It could be your salvation, see that he's nothing really interesting and you're not losing a shit by kicking him out of your room.

Thanks to your faithful thoughts, he unzips his pants and pushes them down, underwear staying teasingly. . Thanks to them once more, you’re wrong even before the time he will decide to finally take the underwear off. His V-line is even more highlighted and you can see the fucking happy trail disappearing down there. You want to touch it so bad. Please, please, please. Let me touch you. You want to feel how hard he is because of you, you want to feel him under your fingers, inside your mouth, inside your core. You want him. So fucking much.

Zoro laughs at your pleading eyes and you shake your head, lifting your chin up.

“What is it about?”, you ask, as if you are completely sick at the sight of his cock. “Don’t even ask me to touch this, colleague, I’m not getting my hands dirty.”

Again, he chuckles. Using his hand to tease himself, slowly stroking where you can see a darker part on the fabric, he replies.

“Are you afraid to like it?”

“No”, isn’t a lie. You’re not afraid to like it because you already know if he had told you to suck him off like a slut you’d do in a second. And you’d like to choke around his length, you’d like to feel him deep in your throat and you’d beg for more if he pushes you away.

Zoro continues to rub his tip over the underwear, and even with the smallest moves you can see he's every second harder than before. Is it because you're looking at it almost drooling, licking your lips without even noticing? Or is it because he's a sadist man who said he's going to break you and you seem to love the idea?

You look at the clock on your bedroom's wall. It's almost eight when Zoro says he's waiting. You raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean, stupid pervert?"

He doesn't bother answering you, taking his time to press his cock harder and sigh. You feel your core aching, your hands eager for touching him when he starts to push his underwear down, enough for you to see his tip leaking. You want to lick it. You don't mind that he probably has a shitty diet and it must taste bitter on your tongue.

Embarrassed and angry about it, you swallow your pride, leaning your face forward. Zoro has all of his attention on you, looking down. He must have a power kink, all arrogant as you start to talk.

"Can I…?", you babble.

"Can I…?", he repeats. "Say it. I'll give it to you"

"Really?", you innocently ask.

Zoro wants to fucking rail you right there. Put you on his lap and let you ride him as you please. If you weren't such a bitch he'd even let you.

"Yes", he encourages. "Go on"

"Can I touch you?” Zoro strokes your cheek with the thumb he had on his cock. You enjoy how it feels—soft, tender, almost lovely. More, you need more. You can't deny it anymore.

"You can do better, little slut", he sounds soft as his touch, like he's a good boyfriend. The two last words make you almost happy. Isn't a praise, but it felt like.

"Zoro, I want to touch you", you try again. This time he chuckles.

"Is it the best you can do? Why are you so, so dumb? Put that brain to work, or it froze because you want to suck me that much?” You feel his hand on your face again, a slap sounding. You sigh and pout, once more pleasured about how it felt.

"Sorry, I'm sorry", you sound stupid. "I am not dumb, I just need to touch you, please, please."

You're good at it, you understand it the moment the man in front of you bites his lip and stares at your mouth, good. At least now he's feeling like you.

Probably much better than you, to be honest, because he's the one in charge.

"Not bad", his hand goes to your hair and nape. Carelessly he pulls you closer, until your nose is touching the fabric that covers his length. You reach out to touch his abs the way you wanted previously, nails scratching his skin and leaving pinkish prints of you. You kiss his hips bones, putting your hands on his thighs.

God. His skin tastes like heaven—you wonder how you are going to stay sane when you have his cock around your lips.

He seems to like things rough and hard. Maybe he's going to fuck your mouth mercilessly, causing you to choke and drool as you try to keep talking him well.

For god's sake, again. You were so convinced you were not going to give in that the consciousness makes you almost shy. Kneeled between his legs, ready to give the weirdo of your school a damn blowjob.

When you reach his tip with your lips, you're almost crying to keep it slow and hard as he deserves. A torture scene is in your mind, although you can't help but do the way he seems to want.

Hot, messy and straight to the main.

Your tongue curls around his cock as you free it from the tight underwear. He hums, keeping eyes on your silhouette as you keep licking every bare centimeter, wondering how much you can take.

You look at him with big eyes and he smirks, evil as the beginning of this whole situation.

"You're so bad at it. I thought you were at least useable, a good fuck hole", he's so mean, hard against your lips and saying you're awful. Like you, he’s just a proud liar.

Yet, you need to prove to Zoro you're good to give him pleasure. You're good enough to be his slut. You need him to praise and say he needs to feel your mouth once more. You need to hear him moaning and stroking your ego.

So, keeping in mind the wish to have him as insane as you are, you finally have your mouth full. At least the tip of of cock, all around your lips. You use your hand to caress his length you don’t have inside your mouth yet, moving up and down as you push your head to receive more of him.

When you slowly let his dick touch your throat, Zoro is over. You can see, looking up, his parted lips, squeezed eyes. He can’t say he’s not enjoying the way your tongue does so good, the way you press his cock with your lips and every damn time you go down on it, you bring it further, almost completely inside you. But suddenly he feels you’re taking too long to start things the way he wants to feel—rough, fast and merciless.

You gasp when he puts his hand on your hair, grabbing a fist full of it, making a sound. You try to stay calm, but tears start to drop off your eyes as he pushes your head down, until you’re fighting for air.

“You’re a fast learner. It’s kind of arousing when you do that face, stupid mouth used for a good thing”, Zoro murmurs, moving your head the way you want. You struggle to make it fit every time he forces his cock until the end, but you’re proud of yourself. You can be crying, but you also received good words. “I prefer you like this. Quiet and sucking me off like you live for that.”

It is good, isn’t it?

You keep your moves as fast as he was doing when he takes his hand off your hair. You want to be a good girl and bring him to the edge of pleasure—it is good to feel your makeup being ruined, your hair all messy, your chin wet with your saliva mixed with his precum. It’s tasty to have his cock inside your mouth, even more when he tries to keep his small moans for him.

You want to feel it more than just today and it fucking sucks.

His cock throbs against your mouth when you take it off to stare at him, brave eyes, burning with the pleasure and power you felt with his sounds. Zoro keeps his eyes on you as well, nodding his head like he’s understanding what the hell you are doing.

“Starting with the bad behavior, hm?”, he inquiries.

“Oh”, as you talk, smirking, you use your hand to keep stroking his dick up and down, thumb rubbing the tip every thrust you give him. He feels his breath ridiculously heavy, as if he’s a young boy finding out the beauty of a girl’s mouth. “I’m not. I just felt like I needed to remind you I don’t follow rules.”

“Uh?”, Zoro pushes your hand away from his length, stroking it himself. “I think you were the one begging a few minutes ago, am I wrong?”

You ignore his words. He’s right but nobody but you needs to know you accepted this too. Standing up, his gaze is on you, and you like the way you feel when you notice Zoro is the one looking up. Not you, this time. You place both of your hands on his chest, pushing him until he’s falling onto the fluffy mattress of your bed.

He let you do it, though. You’re not strong enough to push him yourself.

You put your leg on his, watching his face becoming suddenly curious. What are you planning to do now, full of attitude?

"I think you should keep that mouth shut. Any ideas?", you mock, putting your other leg until you have your whole body on his lap.

Zoro doesn't bother answering you, so you continue, a single finger tracing his godly abs, seeing his skin shiver.

"Shall I sit on your face?", you babble innocently, pulling your skirt up just to show more of your thighs. He follows your moves, interested.

"You can try", he answers. His tone has a challenging note, but you bet he would let you.

If you get where you need to be, of course.

Zoro pulls you onto his chest rapidly. You feel your inner thighs against his hard cock, and you come closer to rub your aching cunt as Zoro kisses you deep.

It's breathtaking the way you feel his lips for the first time. There's no rush, just a sensual and deep pace that could make you cum after a couple minutes. His mouth is amazing, delicious, hot, probably the best kiss you had this year.

God. If he's this dedicated to eat out his girl as he is to leave you breathy and dizzy with just his lips, you're going to fucking give in and let him do whatever he feels like.

His hand goes to your hips, over the fabric of your skirt, while he starts to kiss your neck, finding it funny and kind of hot the way you hum every time he licks your skin after the kiss. Helping you to move side to side on his cock, he uses the chance to smack your ass.

And it hurts even with the fabric to protect you. God. You cry against his lips, murmuring his name. And he does it again, this time after pulling the skirt up, just to listen to your voice moaning his name once more.

"Didn't you say you're—", he wants to tease you, but you don't let him do it. You rub yourself against his cock again, and use your hand to pull his own until it's touching your inner thighs.

His fingers go to your covered cunt immediately, stroking it, feeling the lace. It's so wet he could bet that if he took longer to touch you there, it would be draining to your legs. "I did know you were wet, Barbie, but this?"

You timidly let a moan out as your clit is slowly rubbed. You press your chest against his, your nipples onto his skin getting hard and almost painful. Zoro seems to enjoy the way you're getting off against his hands and chest, smirking every damn second.

Too confident.

"Why are you here yet? Weren't you going to ride my face?"

Has such a good memory even with you ready to push his cock into you.

"If you don't do it right now, I guess I'm doing the way I prefer".

Strong motherfucker. Piece of shit. Troglodyte. You try to go further and put your thighs around his face, but he's holding you tight. And, in a second, he's turning you around, now being on top, kissing you.

Good strategist.

"Keep quiet like a good slut", he warns you against your lips. You shake your head, not agreeing, but he answers. "Good. Such a obedient dumb girl".

His hand pushes your cropped top up, showing him your bare tits. His thumbs go to your nipples as he squeezes your chest, making your heart miss a beat. He's strong and sure knows how to make you want more of a touch that you usually don't care a lot about.

It doesn't last, though. His fingers are replaced by his mouth after giving you a last kiss, and you feel how possessive he is onto your breasts, shamelessly leaving marks and bruises. You moan low every time he uses a little bit more of strength to suck and bite your skin.

It's his fuel. He's eager for hearing more.

His tongue goes further, reaching your waist, then your skirt. You see his face disappear between your legs, soon feeling his breath on your panties.

"Pink, uh?", Zoro likes what he sees. Pink lace, all wet and so easy to tear apart.

That's what he wants to do, so he does. You just hear your pretty panties being ripped.

"Hey!", you yell. "I just bought it, idiot", you protest, but there's nothing else to do about it. Pink panty is over. "Answer something", you continue when he doesn't say a word, doing god knows what under your skirt.

"You're annoying", Zoro says before stuffing your ripped panties inside your mouth, heaven knows how, without even looking at you. "But I bet you taste good."

Without a warning, his tongue is on your wet cunt. He doesn't move it, though, just letting you suffer a little, your muffled moans sounding like good music to him. Did you just say please?

"I can't hear you, are you saying something?"

You try to curse him, but it just sounds like a kid's murmur. He keeps talking close to your core, his nose tip touching your clit a few times.

"Hmm? I don't know what to do if you don't ask me properly", he keeps teasing. It's so good to see you struggling to have him tongue fucking you, but he's speaking the truth.

He doesn't know what you want. He also knows your arms are free, you could take the panties of the second you want.

You must be liking the torture.

"Do you want me to do what?", Zoro murmurs this time against your thigh's skin. You pull your hips towards him, trying to feel more, but he's holding you tight once more. When his tongue finally touches your wetness, you stop protesting to make him listen to your whimpers. "Oh. I'm good at reading you, I guess?"

You tell him to shut his mouth already, but he either doesn't listen or just doesn't care.

Zoro is interested in hearing you crying and moaning under his, that's all. No need to keep using your tongue for being annoying.

He doesn't do like you did to him, sucking his cock with passion and no teasing. Instead, he's, as usual, as mean as he can be, taking his time to carefully taste your juices, every lick causing a lewd eating sound that you'd complain if it wasn't so good.

You squeeze your eyes and open your mouth when Zoro finally presses his tongue against your throbbing clit. He kisses it with care and patience, then goes back to your cunt, pressing into it as you do what he wants to see—or feel.

Your hands are on his head, pressing it against you. Greedy girl, you are. Having what you want yet asking for more? However this time he doesn't stop—he accepts your silent wish and lick all your wetness, sometimes his teeth hitting your clit. Not on purpose, but maybe he's doing it again. The sound you made was so adorable that made his cock even harder, grinding against the mattress.

The way you curl your body under him is insanely dirty. Pushing the rest of your skirt up, Zoro stares at your pleasured expression, closed eyes, frowning, parted lips, delicious tongue out. He can't help but wonder how'd you look with his dick buried into your pussy.

A goddess maybe?

You open your eyes and see him down on you, eating you out like it's his last meal. His skilled tongue fucks you while his fingers are printed on your inner thighs, keeping your shaking legs spread for him.

Then he decides it is a good time to put his fingertips to massage your cunt, feeling again how wet you are. Zoro would never forget the memory of your face contorted when he does it, the way you grab his short hair and push your hips closer. "More, you say?", he wants to know, teasing you, threatening to insert his fingers into you.

"Mhm…"

"How many do you want?", Zoro continues. Using his tongue to rub your clit, he watches you as you lose your focus, just quiet and rolling your hips. He stops and smacks your thighs. "I made a question, brainless Barbie"

You only pay attention to the way he calls you. Barbie is such a mocking name, but you like the way it sounds on his voice, his lips curling in a smirk that makes you want to fuck him then call him he's the worst man ever. You nod, telling yes to whatever he asked.

Zoro thinks it's better if he eats you out with two fingers rubbing your g spot inside your core.

And, for god's sake, you fucking agree.

His tongue is all over you, making a mess, as his fingers are curled inside your cunt. He doesn't move them in and out, just constantly hits the tips of them on your sensitive walls. You don't think anymore—head empty, just want to come.

He'd let you cum?

As if he read your thoughts—feeling your cunt stretching against his fingers, your moans extremely loud and lewd—, he slows down his moves.

You protest, about to take the panties off your mouth and beg for him to give what you need. But then he starts over again, as intense as he was before.

"I'll let you cum now", Zoro mumbles against your clit. It almost hurts—so, so good—and you cry his name. He's satisfied with it, making a sound like he ate something very good. "Because you're a tasty hoe. But next time you will need to beg a little more".

Good. Tasty isn't a word you're frequently called, but it feels good to hear it.

"Now cum for me just the way you're going to do around my dick, right?", his words are a command for you. When he places his mouth on your cunt again, inserting his tongue inside you as he continues to stroke your clit in circles, you're done.

Dizzy, breathless, all your body shaking and shivering as he keeps you in your place. As Zoro thought, you really look gorgeous with a face contorted in pleasure, calling his name like a slut. He could cum with the sight of your smudged makeup, tears down your face and the goddamn lipstick almost intact.

Girl's got a really durable lipstick brand, he thinks. Or maybe he needs to be less kind with you while you're giving him head.

You are the one reaching your climax, but Zoro definitely is enjoying a little more, still thrusting his fingers in and out of you just to overstimulate you as you keep fighting to finally breathe normally.

When he notices you're better, he leans over you once more, takes his fingers out of you and sucks them, a locked gaze on your grimace.

"That's gross", you say, after he takes his panties off your mouth. "You don't need to show me this, pervert"

Zoro laughs, mocking.

"Gross? It's your fucking cream and it tastes really good, want to try?", he approaches, kissing you. You don't protest, but feel weird when you feel your own taste on his tongue.

God. That's so filthy and gross, but also hot as fuck?

What the hell does that man do to you?

Zoro grabs your waist and puts his legs between yours, hips against yours as he rubs his cock on your belly. He also feels the need to have you, but much like the other moments of the night, he's not giving you this easy, despite how he wants to.

You seem to be forgetting that in the end you're just another dumb rich girl that craves for dick every second. A hot and probably his favorite one, but still.

"Zoro, please, stop teasing", you whine in his ear, finding nothing but cruel the way he strokes his tip on your skin, pretending to be pumping into you.

He knows how much you're eager, so is he, but the desperate gaze you give him is nothing he can have with any other girl.

None of your friends would ever submit to his words like you do.

"I know you can think properly now. I'm not even fucking you, come on", Zoro mocks. "I'm even being gentle with you. If you want something, beg for it."

You pout, making the unfailing pity face. Zoro kisses it, squeezing his hand onto your ass as the other goes down, easily rubbing your sensitive spot. He loves the way you shake your hips, wanting more, and your belly makes him receive a pleasure wave. You’re good at doing things like this, letting him go crazy for you.

Zoro totally hates you, but he loves the way your body fits so well next to his own.

He’s your alt. ver. Ken, maybe?

He listens to your voice calling his name.

“He—”, you’re about to cry out, but it turns into a moan when his fingers enter you. “I want… to fuck. Please, Zoro, don’t let me like this”, you whisper, not really content. He should be the one asking you this.

After an orgasm, you’re back with your evil ego—just to be broken again, because Zoro has no fucking patience to deal with this over again. You put your fingers around his cock, tenderly stroking as he kisses you. No need to hear your voice, now.

Zoro stops kissing you to put one hand on your collarbone, close to your neck, possessively. Yet he doesn’t press, you feel the threat ghosting all over you. He has darker eyes, full of lust and a devilish desire to make you cry—this time, for real—while you moan for him.

“Tell me, Barbie, how do you want me to fuck you?”, he asks.

You look away, pouting and frowning. Zoro laughs with your angry face.

“Doggy style”, is the obvious answer. Neither him watching your face, nor you seeing his arrogant smile. He can grab your waist hard and fuck you dumb without seeing your makeup getting even messier. Yes. That’d be good.

Zoro kisses your jawline until his mouth is close to your ear.

“You’re so predictable, bimbo girls, like you, don't have any creativity?”, he murmurs. You feel your face hot, biting your lip and closing your eyes. Idiot, he’s just as idiot as he was yesterday and the days before it. He holds your neck carefully. “It must be nice to see your ass on me, I can’t deny. But you’re not getting what you want.”

“What do I want?”, you babble.

“You are going to see my face the whole time. I didn't want to see yours either, but you might make a face that looks good with my cock inside you."

"Fuck you", you're weak, but still protesting. "I don't care if I see your gross face. Just want to do things my way."

"Yes. I'm believing you, for sure", he rolls his eyes. "You should stop lying a little bit. It's getting a part of you."

"None of your business, troglodyte", you murmur back. On a whim, you look at him and spit on his face, faking an innocent smile. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mea—"

"You did want", Zoro says, catching your saliva from his cheek with a finger. His other hand leaves your body, but you don't know what he is doing until you feel the cock of his tip aligned with your aching cunt. God. Zoro slides his dirty finger on your nose, as you do a grimace. Gross, but could be worse: at least it's not his spit.

At the same time, he pushes his length into you—your mouth turns into an 'o', and Zoro smiles satisfied. He has just a little bit of his cock into you and you're already quiet and tamed. And, god, he fits so well inside you, like you're made for each other.

Bullshit, obviously, however it still being a fucking good sensation.

You wrap your legs around his waist, eager to feel more. His girth hurts a little, good thing you're so, so wet, feeling him sliding every inch into your cunt.

You can't help but look for more, lifting your hips, kissing him so you don't see his face, just feel his divine lips against yours as he tenderlessly finishes pushing.

His moves stops. Zoro is quiet as you are, just enjoying the feeling of his cock inside your walls, taking him so well. You complain and try to move on your own, but he doesn't let you. His eyes are on yours, and you feel almost intimidated when he frowns and seems to analyze what he's feeling.

"You have a good pussy, Barbie", he pulls his cock out of you then inserts it again, harder than before. You sob. "I think the next time I feel bored I'm coming here for you to cockwarm me."

You just nod, breathing deep. His fingers are pressing your thigh and hip as he tries to keep sane. He needs to wait for your permission—to break you and then put them together again—, but he's not asking this time.

But you can't think of it now. His pace is painfully slow, thrusts that burn your cunt, but you want more, harder, faster. You want him to put your legs on his shoulders and go deeper, the maximum he can until you're sobbing and whimpering as it's all you can think about.

God, how you want this.

You lift your legs, a silent message of how do you prefer to fuck—it makes your face hot, it means you're not fighting anymore, you're not avoiding to show how much you're liking his slow thrusts into you. You're giving him the permission to do how he prefers, since it's good for you too.

"Yes", you murmur, when he puts his legs on his shoulders. You moan loudly, and pull his head onto yours to kiss him to muffle your sounds. "Please, please, please…"

You can't keep that attitude when he's deep into you, stroking your clit with one finger, he's even letting you hear his drown moans and sighs. Both Zoro and you sweat and it's not gross anymore—just one more piece of this whole sensual puzzle you're creating. When his forehead is against yours, you feel good.

Fuck him. You'd be in love in a month or two if he keeps looking at you like you're a damn goddess. He's watching you crying with his dick buried into you, probably ugly than ever, but he's finding you gorgeous. You can see it in his eyes and that's a great reward. So you repeat.

"Please, Zoro. I want you to break me", are the magic words—you're done now.

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