𝓪𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 {katsuki bakugo x reader}

𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 1

Life always seemed to find a way of throwing you those curveballs that you weren't sure how to catch, dodging them and trying your best to stumble through life. But this, this was something you couldn't escape. When you'd hear stories about the dark side of Mustufu you never truly believed them. Dark, scary monsters that came out at night were the stories told to children to stop them misbehaving, in the guise that they'd grow up to follow the right paths. Stories that as a child you'd believed, the same way you grew up believing Pro-Heroes to be your protectors, the people who would watch over you and make sure you came to no harm. You spent your childhood looking up to these heroes, to the point of idolising them, the protectors who risked their lives for the sake of others. You couldn't deny this gave you an overconfidence that nothing would ever happen to you, a boldness inside you that meant you didn't fear bad things happening, in fact;  you welcomed them. Because in your heart you knew that if something terrible ever happened to you, you had the faith that your saviour would come.

Your hero.

But now, as you stood in the cold, dark gallery you found yourself starting to doubt the existence of these favoured individuals. The heroes that you'd been taught to hold in such high regard from a young age. Your eyes glancing over the audience, difficult to make out any faces with the bright spotlights shining down on your form as you shuffled nervously beside your captor. The chains chafing against your wrists as he used them as leverage to pull you closer to the front of the stage.

Where was your hero now?

"Next, we have a real treat." The auctioneer spoke from the side of the stage, pure glee evident in his tone as you were paraded in front of the bidders, stumbling as the chains that bound you were tugged in an attempt to get you to turn. Shuffling your feet as you followed the movement, fully aware of the multiple sets of eyes against your frame as you did as you were told, "Such a pretty one, right?"

You heard a low commotion in the room, the sound of harsh whispers of villains who were discussing you, talking about you as though you were nothing, a simple transaction. You weren't somebody's to own, you didn't deserve this. Tears clumping in your lashes as you tried to replay how you got yourself into this mess, an innocent date that you'd met online had now turned into you being kidnapped and sold on the black market. The seedy underground of the villain's realm now a harsh reality, dreading who would end up being the winning bid. At this moment you'd rather die than belong to anyone, trying to ignore thoughts of what depravity would happen to you once you'd been sold.

"She's had a full medical check-up, but she can be quite feisty." The auctioneer smirked knowingly, replaying the first meeting you'd had when you'd woken up cold and alone in a prison cell, your clothes stripped from you and replaced with a pure white nightshirt and white panties. Rage boiling inside you at the fact that someone had changed you without consent, had imprisoned you without consent, not that you even had any autonomy anymore. Everything you had was already stripped away from you the day that you were captured, "She just needs someone that can put her in her place.

You kept believing that your Hero would come and save you, replaying the same stories you'd been told as a child of rescue missions to save those in need. News stories and front-page headlines of people telling their stories about the day they were saved by their favourite Pro-Hero.

Where was your front-page headline? Your tale of how you were saved from the clutches of evil? It didn't exist, because it was never going to happen.

Your hero did not exist.

It hadn't taken them long to break your will, any kind of objections were quickly beaten out of you. Darkened bruises and burns littered your skin, bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep you'd endured whilst being captive. You'd been promised freedom if you'd just comply with them, do as they say but this, this was their idea of freedom. An owner to be chained to for the rest of your existence?