Tribute! Bakugo x Tribute! Reader
The Hunger Games AU
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The Lethal Games
Bakugo

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Your POV
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There are three major rules to remember when it comes to The Lethal Games.

Rule number one:
If you speak, you get electrocuted through a device on your wrist for the amount of seconds per words said.

For example, if you say the sentence, "go find some water," which is four words, then you will get shocked for four seconds.

Number two:
If you touch someone else at any point in the game, you will get electrocuted for as long as you are holding that contact.

And number three:
Survive.

Currently, those are three out of the four thoughts that are running through my mind, as if they're predators hunting down their prey.

My final thought being to sprint the absolute hell away from the cornucopia once that horn goes off, ditching not just its contents, but also the dangers that will be presented there shortly with them.

Most tributes get killed when trying to obtain some supplies in said cornucopia, which is why it's the smarter decision to just run away and scavenge for a while.

The horn I had been dreading starts to blare loudly and I sharply twist around, my feet carrying me at lightning speed towards the forest's tree line.

I have no clue where my teammate is, but that's none of my concern at the moment.

Luck appears to be on my side when I spot a camo bag lying in some bushes off to my left. I rush over and tug it out of the shrubbery, snapping quite a few of its branches along the way. A piece had even jumped up and whacked me on the forehead, but I just ignored it.

I kneel in the dirt and unzip the bag, briefly searching it for anything useful.

"Energy bars...ace bandages...three empty water bottles- wait," I mumble, temporarily stuck on the fact that the creators didn't even bother to fill at least one of the bottles to some extent, but I shove that off and continue my search.

I then get shocked for nine seconds, forcing me to refrain from verbally cursing at the pain. Once it's over, I scold myself in my head for being so forgetful.

Just broke rule number one.

What a great start.

Why did it take so long to punish me, though..?

Maybe it's just the device getting warmed up or something..?

Finally, I grab the handle of an unknown item and pull it out, grinning at my success.

A survival knife!

Just what I needed!

I'm about to scurry off after I stand and shoulder my newly acquired bag, but a harsh grunt cut off those actions and made me turn around instead.

Past the trunks of the trees and the leaves of the bushes, I see a guy with blonde hair on the ground with his hands behind him for support as another tribute is standing over him, weapon raised.

Before I could stop myself, I began to dart to the blonde's aid as soon as the other tribute was about to swing.

Sliding in front of the fallen boy, I swiftly lift my knife up and the offending tribute's blade clashes with my own. Surprise lingers in his eyes as I expertly fend him off, not allowing him to regain his composure as I push his sword away and stab my own weapon deeply into his chest.

Blood splatters out of the wound and partially onto my cheek, making me grimace a little. I ruthlessly press the blade higher up and into his throat, being sure that he won't be able to come back from this encounter.

His sword clatters onto the earth's floor as the red liquid spills out of his mouth, as do his quiet gurgles as he chokes.

As soon as I remove my knife, I recoil a step back in disgust as he collapses onto his knees, uselessly clutching at his neck whilst staring up at me with an almost dazed expression. Guilt creeps it's way along my spine as I watch him crumble onto his back, his gaze now on the sky as the light in it fades into nothing.

I can feel my hands trembling at the sight of what I just did, but even so, I can't bring myself to look elsewhere. That is, I couldn't until I heard the pounding footfalls rushing in my direction from ahead of me.

It's another tribute who's bearing a contorted sneer that's laced with rage and anguish, vision locked directly on me. I absentmindedly slip my blade into the nearest pocket on my bag, realizing that this girl must've been the deadman's partner.

Snapping out of it, I frantically turn to the blonde behind me—who was already fixated on my frame with an astonished, yet disturbed, look—and go to his injured side, his left. I wrapped his arm around my shoulders, with force when he physically protested, and helped him stand.

Pushing through the repetitive pulses that spread up my arm and throughout the rest of my body, I assist the blonde in hastily escaping, which he just reluctantly gave in to. It's not like he had much of a choice in the matter if he wanted to live, anyway.

After an uncertain amount of time, we somehow managed to get away and I gingerly set the blonde down to lean against the base of a tree. The shock waves cease once I eliminate our contact, crouching before him.

"Why the hell did you-?!" the boy attempts to yell, but he gets cut off by his device electrocuting him for a solid five seconds. His restricter must've acclimated to him already for it to have worked that quickly.

I cringe and shuffle to sit by his side, being sure to leave enough space so that we won't accidentally graze one another, then I wrote him a message in the dirt. "It would've been a shame if you had died at the very start of this twisted game. Especially with that fate. Besides, it's better to be a little fried than to be entirely dead, don't you think?"

He seems to be hiding a chuckle as he sends me a small smirk, causing me to giggle a little. I just barely catch his expression softening before it hardens just as fast, brushing my reaction off as he began to write his own response. "Whatever. Don't expect me to thank you for what you did, dumbass. I'm going to leave soon, anyway."

I glance up at the blonde as my face falls ever so slightly at the implied tone of his words. However, when I see no malicious intent in those cherry rose orbs of his, I smile, realizing that this is just part of his personality.

Using my hand to brush the messages off in exchange for a clean slate, I write once more, "That's alright. Let me at least patch up your leg, though."

Before he could retort, I snag some bandages from my pack and use my knife to help me rip some cloth from my shirt, then maneuver myself to be positioned beside his left leg. I briefly meet his eyes, both of us knowing fully well that we're going to be feeling the electricity as soon as I start this, and press the cloth over his gash.

My muscles constrict and jaw clenches at the electric currents, the boy gritting his teeth as I proceed to efficiently wrap the bandages around his shin and secure it with a knot.

I let him go and the shocks stop, resulting in us releasing sighs of relief. When we meet each other's eyes again, I look away timidly before focusing on him once more, seeing his own gaze dart back up to mine as well.

My EC orbs scan his figure, both of us blatantly intrigued by the stranger who's keeping the other company. I suddenly felt the urge to ruffle his hair while I examined it from afar, but I held myself back and shifted to pay attention to his stern expression instead.

What I noticed was the way he outwardly shows what appears to be a tough and intimidating exterior, but his eyes reveal what he's truly feeling to the world. Despite me never having been very good at deciphering how someone really feels, it seems to come quite naturally when I look at him for some inexplicable reason.

Second Person POV

Bakugo, when observing you, instantly analyzed the way you held yourself with confidence, yet how you still appeared to be rather shy.

He saw the twinkle in your eyes and even admired how the sun's rays caressed your skin through the mess of leaves above, making him have an immediate liking towards you.

This made him resent his own mind, baffled by how he could judge your sense of character based on how pretty you look. Although, he knew that deep down, his suspicions were inclined to be correct based on how you've been acting with such altruism, too.

First Person POV
You

I watch as he digs his fingernails into his palms, seeming lost in thought, and I assume that it's a habit to keep himself or his nerves in check. I blink out of my trance when the boy pats the ground beside him, where I had once been located, as an invitation.

When I oblige, he draws in the dirt, "I'm Katsuki Bakugo. Who the fuck are you?"

Stifling a chuckle, I write back, "YN LN. Nice to meet you, Katsuki."

He tsked and looked elsewhere, mildly expressing his annoyance, but I knew that this was only just the beginning of our friendship.

As the days rolled by, I took care of him as best as I could and, low and behold, when Bakugo mostly healed, he didn't leave me like he originally said he planned on doing. Rather, we grew closer and kept one another safe.

One time, he had allowed me to borrow his jacket when I shivered during the night. He had put it on me when I was asleep, so it ended in me waking up with it draped over my frame. That was the first event that informed me on the fact that he does care about my well being.

In another instance, we heard some rustling nearby and he stood in front of me protectively. It turned out to be a rabbit, which we ate for lunch, but it was still a sweet gesture.

Eventually, all of our bonding led to this altercation between us and a few other tributes.

I had just kicked some girl off of me when a blur crossed my vision, a sharp pain then radiating from the area just above my right hipbone. An involuntary yelp wrenches out of my throat at this, peering down as I stagger backwards.

I press my left palm next to the wound, as if I'm a fragile ceramic vase that would shatter with only a little bit of pressure, and look up at Bakugo. His attention is already focused on me, eyes wide as he freezes at the sight of my side being partially impaled by an arrow.

It feels like everything's moving in slow motion as I fall to my knees, my head tilting towards the bloodied grass beneath me as my mind flashes back to the first tribute I ever had to wipe out. I realize how similar my stance is to his in this moment, causing me to let out a dry huff.

Next thing I know, Bakugo's ramming my attacker out of the way and picking me up in the princess style, carrying me off as he sprints. He discounts the aching coming from the device on his wrist and I'm forced to do the same, heaving short and heavy breaths.

I groan a little and bury my face into his chest, struggling to concentrate on anything but my injury. He doesn't utter a word as we arrive next to a pond, setting me down so I can rest against a rock. He releases me and I momentarily gasp for air, recovering from all of the agony that was added from the electrocution.

Swallowing my saliva with pursed lips, he gestures to the arrow that's lodged in my side and makes a yanking motion, telling me that he's going to have to remove it. I nod and prepare myself, squeezing my eyes shut and haunching forward slightly with a whimper as he pulls the arrow out in one fell swoop.

I fall back against the rock once again, opening my eyes and staring up at the sky as I pant. I then look down at the gaping hole and hesitantly put my hand over it, hissing as I apply pressure in hopes of slowing the bleeding.

Bakugo gives me a concerned glance before a small thump can be heard off to my left. We look over to see a box the size of a tennis shoe lying nearby, a miniature parachute attached to its lid. It appears to have fallen from between the gap in the treetops.

I meet the pomeranian's eyes and flick my free hand in the direction of the care package, and he promptly follows my silent orders and grabs the box. Rushing back over, he opens it up and a light smile stretches across his face, sighing in relief.

He shows me the needle, thread and first aid spray that was provided for us, and I can't help but to weakly grin as well.

Those are the exact supplies necessary to patch me up, and we didn't have them until now. The creators must've decided to throw us a bone here...but why?

Maybe we gained the support of the audience?

That would certainly explain the abrupt sign of mercy on us—if we became a crowd favorite.

His hands quiver as he attempts to thread the needle, mouthing vulgar curse words as he fumbles with it. I bite back a laugh, not wanting to make matters worse for my condition.

Once he gets it set up, he ties a double knot on the other end of the thread before gently nudging my hand away from the wound. He starts to stitch it up without any reluctance, knowing that time may not be our friend if he doesn't hurry.

I tightly clench my fists and bring my right hand up to my mouth, gnawing down on the space between my thumb and palm as I desperately try to keep quiet. I don't know where any of the other tributes are, and I'm sure that they'll be searching for us.

It'd be risky to make any form of noise right now that would give away our position.

Thankfully, Bakugo's moving fairly quickly, all while still being accurate and adept, so I won't have to deal with this for that long.

As soon as he's finished, he removes the needle and ties up the final end of the thread, fastening it tightly. At a steadier pace, Bakugo takes the first aid spray and shakes it to mix its ingredients, then he applies it to my sewed-up laceration. I inhale sharply, but don't make a big fuss about it as I lower my right hand, which I use to wave dismissively when he looks at me in worry.

Said hand now has bright red indents from my vigorous biting only seconds before, but that pales in comparison to what I just had to sit through.

Bakugo pauses before wrapping my injury up with a cloth and bandages, starting up the flurry of electricity traveling through our veins once more. He pulls away and it halts, then he plops down beside me as I loosely tug my shirt down over the wrappings.

I give him a confused look, and, as if reading my mind, he sighs and sits up again to write an answer in the dirt. "I returned the favor from when we first met."

I smile up at him before grasping his hand, ignoring the electricity that continues to jolt through our bodies. He stares at me with an expression that I've never identified on him before, and it only urges me to pull him to sit back down at my side.

My other senses, such as hearing, are distantly aware of our surroundings as he releases my hand to slide that arm around my shoulders. He's on his knees as he faces me, his right hand resting on my corresponding shoulder as he moves to softly hold my chin with his free hand. My left shoulder is facing his direction, meaning I have to turn my head to get a better look at him.

Slowly, we start to lean in, our actions and desires taking command instead of our brains. Our eyes flutter shut as our lips collide, displaying mixed emotions in the shared kiss. It's not only sweet and loving, but it's also desperate and needy.

I hardly even noticed when the device on my wrist stopped shocking me, too intent on focusing on Bakugo as I trail my left hand up to settle on his right hip. I keep the other in my lap, despite how badly I wish to run my fingers through his matted hair with it.

Between one of our short bursts of passionate kisses, I heard Bakugo whisper out a breathless, "Fuck..."

This makes me giggle as he clashes his lips back against mine, and I can feel him smiling into it in response.

For once, I'm actually glad to have been chosen to participate in The Lethal Games, because if I wasn't, then I never would've met Bakugo.

The one I love the most.

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-CastrarWolf