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ptergwen · 4 years ago

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love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years ago

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•Forget That Extra•

Summary: Porn with very little plot, just a lot of self induldent smut then some super soft Bakugo. FWB trope and all. This one gets RIGHT INTO THE NEWS (starts with smut immediately) so strap in.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader (both Bakugo and Reader are aged up to 18+)

Warnings: Rough sex, degredation, impact play, choking, ddlg terms, squirting, spitting, dumbification, a dash of breeding/impregnation kink, unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, multiple orgasms, marking, possession kink, switch reader, switch Bakugo. (Primarily submissive reader with primarily dominant bakugo.)

Word count: 7,402

A/N: This was,,,, depraved,, and it's only gonna get worse.

Part Two • Part Three

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"Fucking- shit- you take this cock so fucking well." Bakugo huffs out as he plows into you from behind, he punctuates his sentence with a harsh slap to your ass. The action earns a high pitched moan from you. Your right hand flies to his headboard, desperate for some kind of a brace against his punishing thrusts.

Sex with Bakugo has always been like this, rough, fast, and urgent. Everything he does in the bedroom is exactly what you would expect from somebody with his explosive personality. You two had started out as "just friends", with immense tension, until one day that tension broke and you introduced the benefits side to your relationship. It happened in an abandoned janitor's closet in the building of the hero agency you both worked at. Ever since then you became Katsuki Bakugo's personal plaything. Your little arrangement had created something truly volatile. One minute you would be all over each other, the next not even willing to speak to each other. You would never cross over the line into an actual relationship, though. That was the only rule set for this shitshow you've both created.

You're in your current predicament because you were caught flirting with some extra at the bar you two were at while Bakugo was in the bathroom. While you're not technically his, he's very territorial. He's decided to teach you a lesson of sorts about flirting behind his back. Something he has no right to do given the dynamic of your relationship, but you're more than willing to pretend if it means he'll rail you like he is right now.

"Who's pussy is this?" He nearly yells as his hand fists into your hair so he can yank you up, your back bends painfully, but you're quickly distracted from the pain by the feeling of his other hand wrapping around your throat.

"I asked you a question bitch, or have I fucked you so stupid you can't even answer?" His tone is nasty, teasing. The harshness of it all renders you incapable of articulating anything. All you can do is moan like a whore while he drills his thick cock in and out of you. His hips slam against your ass and you can feel your juices dripping down the insides of your thighs. Only Bakugo can get you like this, you want to tell him too. You want to stroke his already pompous ego, but all you can do is cry out and take what he's giving you.

"You're so fucking wet, bet you would've let anybody fuck you, huh? You- little -whore." He says the last three words with malice, ramming himself into you as each one leaves his mouth. The hand that isn't on your throat snakes around your waist to tease your clit, he doesn't do much though, just rubs light and slow and it drives you fucking insane. You can feel your body begging for an orgasm, but with the way he's touching you, all you can do is sit on the edge and wait for him to have mercy. Your walls flutter slightly, but not enough to bring you much satisfaction. You groan impatiently, biting your bottom lip hard enough to break the skin. Bakugo chuckles behind you, the sound irritates the hell out of you. Of course he's laughing at you.

"What's wrong baby? Can't cum unless I make you?" He sneers against your neck, he finishes the sentence by releasing your neck just so he can plant his hand between your shoulder blades and force your chest against the bed. Your back arches up in that sinful way you know he loves. His thrusts have slowed slightly, becoming almost gentle, his left hand is still roped around your body so his rough middle finger can trace lazy circles on your clit.

You bury your face in the mattress and cry out, you're right fucking there. Your body is screaming for it, it's like your orgasm is starting but it won't progress past the feeling of falling. It's almost fucking painful. You hear his dark laugh fill the room again and you want nothing more than to turn around and deck him in his handsome face.

He bends down and gathers your hair again, this time his movements are more guiding than demanding. He pulls your roots to turn your face to the side, he presses a sloppy kiss against your temple. His hips continue their lazy push and pull out of your soaked cunt. You let out a pathetic sob like sound and ball the sheets in your fists.

"What is it baby- tell me what you need." He's taunting you again, his voice has that teasing edge. He fucking knows what you want, but he won't give it to you until you say it. Anger bubbles in your chest, creating a strong desire to be defiant. You'll definitely pay for it, but you love it when he gets pissed off.

"I need to cum." You moan, trying to sound pitiful and desperate. You pout slightly, knowing your antics will spur him on.

"Do you think you deserve that?" He growls as he applies just slightly more pressure to your clit, only enough to tease you, making your walls ache and your head spin.

"I bet- fuck Katsuki-" You choke when he pushes himself all the way into you, circling his hips a little once he's fully encased by your soaked hole.

"You bet what?" His voice is dripping with amusement, it pulls you back down to earth long enough to spit out the words you know he'll make you pay for.

"I bet that extra could've made me cum by now." You let your lips pull into a deviant smirk, you look back at him and your chest seizes immediately. His crimson eyes are ablaze with fury, his upper lip pulls up slightly to sneer down at you. He takes a deep breath in, his strong chest expands and your mouth waters at the sweat rolling down his pecs. He stops all movement against you, you internally scream at the loss of stimulation.

He doesn't say a damn word, before you can even say anything to fix this he's ripped himself out of you, his muscular right arm slips around your waist. His hand grabs at your side and he pulls it back swiftly, flipping you onto your back like it's nothing. He leers over you, placing both hands on either side of your head. His movements are slow, almost primal. His gaze is intense and vengeful, you cower beneath him and hold your breath.

He slowly moves his right hand to grasp your chin. You let out a weak breath as soon as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. He pulls your soft skin down and you immediately open your mouth to pull his thumb in and swirl your tongue around it. His lack of words and action is making you increasingly nervous for what's going to come next, your heart is hammering in your chest and you have a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. He's never this quiet during sex. He's always groaning or barking orders at you, did you go too far?

"I'm sure he's still there." He sighs, pushing his thumb further into your mouth.

Your face scrunches in confusion. Where is he going with this?

He braces himself on his knees on either side of your hips, straddling you so he can move his left hand up your body. You steal a glance down between your bodies and see his cock is still painfully hard, glistening with the slick you covered him in. The sight makes you sigh against his hand while your eyes flutter back to his. His left hand snakes over your breast, flicking your nipple on his way, the action makes your body jump and him chuckle. Soon his hand is around your throat again, squeezing in a warning way that makes your heart beat even faster.

"How about I find him and bring him back here for you?" His eyes flicker to your mouth, watching you suck his thumb intently.

"But first…" His hand leaves your mouth abruptly so he can grab your jaw again, your mouth hangs open while he chokes you further.

"I'm gonna cover you in my fucking cum so he knows how much of a whore you are." He spits into your mouth then forces your jaw shut, then gives you a fierce look as he raises his eyebrows. Between his brutal words and his feral appearance, you don't dare push it. You swallow like you know he wants and open your mouth to prove that you've done it.

"Good girl." He almost moans the words.

"Is that what you want then?" He growls, visibly irritated by your lack of argument with the implications that you want somebody else to satisfy you. The hand on your throat tightens even more, causing your own hands to inch towards the vice he's created around your airway.

"No- I don't want that." You gasp out, electricity pulsing through you at the intensity of it all.

"So what do you want?" He asks impatiently.

"You- I fuckin- shit- You Katsuki, I want your cock, nobody else's." You're sputtering, white stars start to spark in your eyes.

He tears himself away from, you gasp as soon as your throat is free of his crushing grip. He maneuvers down your body so he's kneeling between your thighs, he gathers your shaking legs and presses them together, letting them lean to the left side slightly. He reaches down his body and grabs his thick cock to start stroking himself lazily. Your walls clench with longing as his deep red eyes glare at you.

"You want this?" He asks, nodding down at his impressive length.

"Please…" Your voice is absolutely pathetic, laced with need, you find yourself grabbing at the sheets again.

He doesn't say anything else, just rolls his eyes then lines his tip up at your entrance. You hiss at the contact, so desperate to be filled by him again.

Much to your dismay, he's pulled back out as soon as he's pressed himself in. Then you feel the most maddening sensation you've ever experienced. He presses his dick right between your thighs, using your slick as lube. Your eyes roll back and you huff, you feel the sting of tears gathering and gaze up at him with the most pitiful expression.

"Oh, what's the matter?" Bakugo taunts as he slides his length between your soft thighs again.

"You wanted me to fuck you again, huh?" He asks as his hands trail down the backs of your thighs, coming to the curve of your ass to finish his ministrations with a harsh squeeze.

You nod weakly, the horrible ache in your pussy is absolutely maddening. You take in a shuddering breath as you feel your legs begin to shake slightly. Bakugo doesn't miss this in the slightest, in fact, he seems to get a kick out of your desperation. His face lights up in a ferocious and sadistic way, slowly pulling himself in and out of your squished thighs the whole time.

He brings his hands back up to hook them under your knees so he can spread your legs open again. He glares down at your aching entrance and he lets out a condescending chuckle.

His right hand slithers down to your core, he lets his middle finger skate over your puffy clit. Your whole body jolts at the contact, his eyebrow tweaks up at your reaction, that knowing smirk spreads across his face.

"There is one way you can get this cock inside of you again." He drawls.

This grabs your attention shamefully fast, you shift so you're braced on your elbows. He lets himself settle down between your legs so his hot breath can fan over your dripping folds.

"I'll do it, whatever it is, please Katsuki." You're more than just slightly embarrassed to be pleading in this way, but your body needs release desperately, so your pride is nearly non-existent.

"You can squirt for me." His words send a chill right up your spine. You shiver in anticipation and relax against his touch. He presses his lips into the inside of your thigh as his arms snake around your legs so he can hold them against his strong shoulders. He gives you a few more gentle kisses, nipping your heated skin every once in a while.

His eyes flicker up to yours, the beautiful scarlet irises are flooded with lust and his pupils are blown wide. The sight of him looking at you like that from between your legs makes your chest ignite with exhilarating desire. He opens his mouth, letting his tongue loll out, not breaking eye contact for a second. He flicks the tip of it over your clit with lightning speed, you throw your head back and huff at his agonizing teasing.

You're jolted back to reality with smack the side of your leg with brutal force. The sharp sting makes your walls contract as a whimper leaves your throat.

"Eyes on me, sweet girl." He mumbles against you, lips pressing into your clit as he sighs.

You internally scream, you want to tell him to use his mouth on you, you want to tell him to quit his teasing and be a man. You don't fucking dare though, you're miserable enough.

Then he finally licks a long strip up your lips, letting the tip of his tongue flick your clit like he did seconds ago. This time he applies more pressure and moves slower. Your body reacts instantly, cunt clenching as your thighs jerk inwards. He absolutely hates that, he growls and pulls his hands from your hips to press them against the insides of your thighs so he can pry your legs open.

"Don't make me tie these down." He warns, giving you no time to answer before pressing his hot mouth back against where you need him most.

You cry out but you don't dare let your head fall back, remembering his command from before. Your head is spinning and your body is trembling against your will. He's completely devouring you, his mouth is creating lewd smacking sounds as he tongues your aching clit. Before you can't even process it when you feel two of his thick fingers shove into your fluttering cunt.

"Fucking hell, Katsuki!" You cry as he starts to pump his digits in and out of you, his tongue doesn't slow down at all as he finger fucks you furiously.

Your nerves are on fire as the pleasure in your center builds until you're on the edge again. Your body's reaction is to squeeze your legs together. Just as you start to pull them inwards slightly Katsuki raises the hand that isn't two knuckles deep inside you and lets it fall against the inside of your thigh with a crack. The sweet sting makes you moan, you're pushed even closer to your release and you feel an unnatural pressure build close to where he's working your cunt.

"I'm gonna- oh my god- Baby, I'm gonna-" You spit the words out between gasps, the confirmation that you're about to give him what he wants only spurs him on further. His fingers move even quicker, he lets them curl up against the sponge-like skin, jerking his wrist harshly. As soon as the pads of his fingers find that sweet spot inside you, the dam breaks. Your body collapses against the bed as your back arches off the sweat soaked sheets.

"Oh that's it baby girl, that's what I wanna see." He huffs out as you start to squirt around his fingers. He's replaced his tongue with his other hand, letting his middle finger flick your clit in fervent up and down motions. The change of stimulation has you crying out and thrashing your head as you squirt forcefully, the feeling is so foreign and intense. Blinding pleasure catches every single nerve of your body on fire as your pussy clenches and gushes against him. It's almost embarrassing but it feels so incredible.

"-Feels so fucking good, Suki don't fucking stop." You wail, hands grasping at the bed as your hips lift up. Your cunt gives him one last powerful burst as you sob his name over and over.

He keeps his hands working against you, but slows his movements down as he watches your body ease back out of its rapturous pleasure. As soon as you're flat against the mattress again and he sees you catch your breath, he rips his hands away from you. You want to object, but before you can he's shoving his fingers into your mouth. Your own spunky flavor spreads across your taste buds as you suck him into your mouth so you can clean your release off.

"First of all, don't tell me what to do." He huffs as he pulls his fingers out so he can capture your jaw in a possessive grasp.

"Second of all, I'm not going to stop until you want to fucking worship me." His words send you reeling, still trying to catch your breath from the electrifying orgasm he's just given you.

He bends down and kisses you fiercely, all teeth and tongue as he claims your mouth.

He pulls away and settles back onto his knees between your legs. His hands trail down your sides, his feathery touch raises goosebumps all over your flushed skin.

"You were such a good girl." He mumbles as his hand comes to grasp his hard length, he strokes it lazily as he looks down at you.

You lick your lips at the sight, of course he doesn't miss the action. He lets out a patronizing chuckle.

"Is this what you want?" He asks with a mocking tone.

"Yes." You say quietly, your voice is ragged from your previous cries.

His eyebrows shoot up as he lets himself drop to cage you with his arms. He shoves your drenched thighs apart with his knee so he can settle between them. He presses himself against your folds and you his at the teasing sensation.

"Yes what, baby?" The sweet nickname betrays his menacing tone.

Your hands slide up to claw at his muscular sides, your lip quivers and your thighs squeeze his hips.

"Yes, Daddy, I want you to ruin me with that cock." Your voice is light and begging, just like he likes it.

He glares down at you, still pissed at you for bringing up the guy from the bar, but you see the small crack in his facade at your confession. You decide to keep running with your little desperate act. Well, it's not really an act, you truly are so fucking desperate for him. Pride be damned, you need to get railed.

"I'm so sorry I said anything about that stupid extra." You sigh, letting your hands slide up his tense abs.

"He could never make me feel like you do. Nobody ever could." Your hands find their place on the sides of his face, you let your hips roll up against his aching length as you bat your eyelashes.

"Do you mean that?" He asks. The tone in his voice throws you off. He's the one that sounds desperate now, like he wants you to keep reassuring him. Of course he fucking does. He said it himself, he wants you to worship him.

"Nobody has ever made me come that hard before." You admit. His face almost quivers at your words. You take advantage at the moment of weakness, you wrap your strong thighs around his hips and flip you both so you're straddling him. It's a gamble of a move given how much you just pissed him off, but he's all too ready to have his ego stroked. He submits to you beautifully, allowing you to settle on top of his lap so you can run your slick center on his needy dick. His hands cling to your hips, finger tips digging in when you rake your own hands through his messy blonde spikes.

"You make me feel so good, Suki." You whisper against his ear, reveling in the way his entire body relaxes. Maybe he doesn't need to dominate you, maybe he needs you to prove your devotion to him.

"Yeah? Is that right?" He tries to maintain his intimidating tone, but the feeling of his tip against your soaking hole makes him bite his lip while his eyes roll back.

"That's right baby, your name is the only name I want to scream." You punctuate your sentence with a nip at the soft skin under his ear.

A sweet, breathy moan escapes his throat. Now it's your turn to be power hungry.

You snake your hand up to his jaw, letting your fingers grasp the tense flesh with a delicate hold. His eyes meet yours and it takes every ounce of self control in your body to hold you back from jumping on his dick right that second. He's looking up at you with big, doe like eyes. Desperation is etched on every handsome feature, it's enough to make your knees go weak.

"Can I please make you feel good?" You ask sweetly, letting your thumb trace over his kiss-swollen bottom lip. He just nods and sighs, never letting his eyes leave yours for a second.

You roll your hips against him again, the action only makes his grip on your hips tighten as he throws his head back.

"You're already doin' that." He huffs out. His cheeks have a dusting of blush across them. He looks so beautiful like this, all flushed and desperate. You've never really been in control before, not like this anyway. Sure, you've been on top, but you've never seen Bakugo so… submissive?

You grab the sides of his face instinctively, pulling him towards you to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He moans into your mouth as he lets his hands snake around your waist to pull you against him. He lifts your torso against his and you bite his bottom lip when you feel the tip of his dick press into your dripping hole. You pull away to glance down at him and you notice the strained look in his ruby eyes.

"Don't hold back, pretty boy." You breathe out. Your words break his resolve completely, he snarls at you as he plants his feet on the bed so he can drive his cock into you with one sharp thrust. You scream his name and throw your hands out to brace against the headboard.

"Are you sure about that, princess?" He taunts as he pulls out again, stopping once his head is pressed at your entrance again.

"Yes- fuck- please fuck me like tha- FUCK!" You don't get a chance to finish your begging, he sinks himself into you again but this time he doesn't stop. His pace is immediately unforgiving, your whole body starts to shake and all you can do is cry out with each thrust.

"That's it, fuckin' scream for me, baby." He pants. His mouth then moves to attack your neck with hot open mouthed kisses and nips. Whiny moans fall from his lips between each bite. The sweet sting of his teeth against the delicate skin sends shocks of pleasure straight to your core where you're being split open by his incredibly harsh thrusts.

"I don't want to ever hear you talk about another man like that, not when I can fuck your cunt like this." He gasps when the words make you clamp down on him even more than you already are. His possessive statement makes you want to submit completely, any hint of the dominance you felt seconds ago flies from your brain. You're left with nothing but the need to surrender and please him.

"I'm sorry." You sob against his shoulder as he kisses your cervix with his pounding.

"For what?" He grunts. He's testing you now, seeing just how far you've slipped into your submissive headspace.

"I'm sorry for even talking to him. He's nothing compared to you, Dynamight." Your voice is filled with broken desperation, your mind is set on earning atonement for your behavior at the bar.

The name sends him over the edge, without stopping his hips he flips you both over so he can shove your back into the bed. One hand flies to the headboard while the other comes down to form a vice around your throat. He doesn't choke you though, just applies enough pressure to keep you on edge. His mind is set more on possession than punishment now.

"Is this how I get you to behave? I gotta fuck you senseless so you'll fucking act right?" He snarls at you, nothing but fury in his eyes as he buries himself in you again and again.

You nod your head furiously, your jaw drops when he delivers a particularly rough thrust that sets all of your nerves on fire. Drool slips out of the side of your mouth and you feel hot tears fall from your eyes. Your legs tremble around him and your hands cling to the sheets as you moan and sob beneath him.

"Who makes you feel this good?" He barks.

"You do." You say pitifully, immediately kicking yourself for not answering him the way you're supposed to.

In a flash his hand has left your throat so he can send his knuckles cracking across your cheek as he back hands you with a growl. The hand comes back to grab your jaw and jerk your head to face him, he brings his hips to an agonizing pace. He rolls his body against your a few times before pressing himself into you completely, then he stops moving completely. You cry and squirm against the painful stretch, blinking up at him with blurry, tear filled eyes.

"You have one more chance." He says against your ear, voice low and full of warning. He lets his hand squeeze your face even more, inevitably decorating your jaw with little bruises.

"Who makes you feel this good?" He asks you again, his voice has a slight tremor to it, giving you a heads up that now is not the time to push him.

"You do, sir." You gasp, another sob wracking your body. You want to push your hips up against his to gain back even a trace of the feeling he was previously giving you. Your body trembles like a leaf when you realize how pathetic your voice still sounds, knowing he won't be satisfied.

"Speak up, bitch." He says, letting his palm crack across your other cheek. The pain makes your pussy clench around him, he just chuckles at your slutty behavior.

"You do, sir!" You try to scream, but you just end up crying. You know you have to look like an absolute wreck.

Out of your peripheral vision his hand moves again and you brace for impact, but he shocks you by placing his hand gently against your check. The hand on the headboard comes down to rest beside your head, letting his body come even closer to you. You gaze up at him and wait with baited breath for his next command.

"That's my girl. Now, beg." He says plainly as he pulls his hips back by barely an inch to rock back into you. The motion pushes more tears out of your eyes and more drool from your mouth.

"Please fuck me, Daddy, please- OH FUCK!" Just like that he's ripping you apart again with his relentless thrusts.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you thank you thank you." You cry like a prayer as your eyes drill shut and your back arches off the bed, your walls seize up and your muscles quake when you hear him moaning praises.

"You're so fucking tight, princess." He knows what he's doing, he knows exactly what to say when you're like this, and it's fucking perfect.

"Thank you, daddy." You sob against the hand still pressed to your cheek, you're both surrendering now. Your bodies are aching for that sweet euphoria you offer each other after all this teasing. His other hand mirrors the one holding your cheek so he can cradle your face and lean his forehead against yours. The tenderness sends you careening towards your orgasm, but you know better than to finish without permission.

"Can I please cum." You beg as your hands slide to his back so you can drag your nails down the sweat soaked skin.

"Not yet, you better fuckin' hold it." He huffs out above you, he brings himself back up to brace on one arm. The other slides down to flip one of your legs up so he can hook it around his elbow. The way this new position has your hips angled is absolutely maddening for both of you. You're spread so wide for him that he's able to plunge into you to the hilt with every thrust, and the way your leg is hiked up makes you feel even tighter around him. An all too familiar pressure builds in your core, your walls flutter and your abs tense as the muscles in your cunt shutter.

"I'm gonna fuckin' squirt again." You pray he doesn't punish you for stating it instead of asking if you could, but the look in his eyes tells you he's not in an orgasm ruining mood. His red eyes light up with an animalistic glare, wild blonde hair glued to his forehead by the sweat pouring out of his overworked body.

"Fuckin' do it then, slut. Let me feel that messy cunt cum all over my cock." That's all it takes.

Your hand flies down to assault your clit, and the stimulation sends you straight into your electric orgasm. Your body convulses against Katsuki as your cunt spasms and gushes around his cock, you revel in the sweet pleasure that spreads between your legs and sob out broken cries. He doesn't slow down his thrusts in the slightest, if anything he speeds up. The sight of you squirting around him turns him completely feral.

"Oh fuck yeah, good girl, fuckin' soak me." His voice shifts to that beautiful higher pitch that makes him sound so needy.

You let out gasps and shrill moans as you come undone, between your fingers and his thrust your release is being spread all over the two of you, inevitably ruining the sheets as well.

"Thank you sir- fuck! Thank you for making me squirt." You moan, fingers slowing down as the gushing from your cunt stops. Nerves twitching with the aftershocks of your blinding release, you gain some mental clarity. As Katsuki continues to drill into you, you make sure to not let your walls relax, desperate to see him come undone. You know exactly what he needs. He needs that big ass ego stroked.

His thrusts slow slightly, setting a much less brutal pace. It's not the slow, sloppy pace he sets when he's close, though. His face is scrunched up in deep concentration, breath leaving his lungs in harsh puffs. While he has stamina unmatched by anybody you've ever slept with, he is human. His body is exhausted from all of the exertion it took to get you to finish so forcefully, you look down his body and see his muscles twitching under his lovely, porcelain skin. You owe him after that, big time. It's your turn to make him a mess.

"You ruined me, Daddy." You say as you watch his eyebrows squeeze together, your tone is feather soft as you run your fingers along his sides. His body reacts with a gorgeous shutter, now you've got him.

"You're the only one baby, only you can make me cum that hard." A stunning moan leaves his throat, your sweet talk is doing a number on him, and a wicked idea enters your brain.

"Let me ride you, please, I wanna make it up to you." You beg.

"Make what up to me?" He's so caught off guard by your request, and the fact that he doesn't immediately know what you're talking about tells you he's hanging on by a thread.

"I was such a bad girl, Daddy. I gotta make it up to you." You say with a sweet, innocent tone. Another gentle moan leaves his mouth and his hips stall slightly. That's the exact window you were looking for. You use the same move you did earlier to roll yourself on top. He huffs out as his back meets the mattress, cock still buried inside you. Your hips settle down against his as you lean forward to press your torso against his. One strong hand slides to squeeze your ass while the other sneaks up your side to grab your breast, skilled fingers pinch the nipple and you hiss at the stimulation. You roll your hips against his as your body sings for him.

"Please, baby." He sighs, leaning up to press a kiss against your collar bone.

The gentleness of his request makes your head spin, as well as his willingness to ask so sweetly. Katsuki doesn't ask for anything in the bedroom, or in general. Seeing him in this submissive state makes your mind and body buzz. If you were in a more sadistic mood, you might want to hear him beg a little more, but your body is already so worn from the intense orgasms he's put you through. You settle for lazily rolling your hips against him, gazing down to watch every gorgeous expression cross his fucked out face. His head falls back and his eyes flutter shut, his lips part as and a strained moan leaves his mouth.

"Look at me, baby, please, I want you to watch me." You coo, letting your hands slide up to run through his messy hair. He opens his mouth to say something, probably sass you for even remotely attempting to give him an order. He's cut off as you raise your hips to back down on his length suddenly.

"Oh shit, keep doin' that." He glances down between your bodies, desperate to see where you're connected.

"This?" You tease as you raise your hips again to repeat the motion, this time setting a gentle pace as you bounce on his cock.

"Yeah, just like that, good girl." He sighs, head falling back. Of course he's not going to listen to your request for him to keep his eyes open, even when he's the one underneath you, he won't be told what to do. You're not in the mood to challenge him though, your overstimulated body is already responding to the feeling of him inside you. You sit up and throw your hair over your shoulder as you bring yourself down against him with more force. You grab his wrists and drag his leathery hands up your sides, causing his eyes to snap open as he lifts his head up to gaze at your bouncing breasts.

"Play with me, Daddy, please." You moan softly, guiding his hands up to grasp your tits. He squeezes them greedily and groans at the feeling of the soft flesh. You plant your hands on his strong chest and focus all of your energy into riding him. As your hips snap down against him, he fills you perfectly and you feel your own orgasm starting to build. You're on a mission though, Katsuki has to cum now, and you know exactly how to make that happen.

"Fuck- I wanna feel you cum baby, please fill me up." You beg as you throw your head back, his hands fly to your waist at your confession and his fingers dig into you.

"Yeah? You desperate for Daddy's cum?" He's maintaining his dominance, but his resolve is crumbling.

You nod fervently, grabbing his right hand so you can bring it to your mouth. You take his thumb into your mouth and wrap your pouty lips around it, you feel drool drip out of your mouth to slide down your chin and land on your chest. You look down to see him watching you like a hawk, eyes glued to the spit sliding between your breasts. You let his thumb fall out of your mouth so you can dirty talk some more.

"Make me yours, put a fuckin baby in me, Suki." You throw yourself forward so you can plant your hands beside his head and bare down on his cock even more. Obscene, wet, smacking sounds fill the room as your sopping cunt slams down on his length repeatedly.

"I'll make you mine, slut, I'll fuckin fill you up." He huffs out.

"I'll put a baby in that perfect body, ruin you for everyone else- shit, baby- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fuckin cum." As he finishes his sentence his voice climbs a few octaves, starting at his usual manly tenor to end at a pitiful wine.

"You feel so good Daddy, let me feel you cum, I wanna make you feel good." You run a hand down his chest, letting your nails leave angry red marks in their wake. He throws his head back to cry out as his hips buck against you, the sight sends you hurtling into another earth shattering orgasm. It's so fucking perfect, as soon as he starts cumming your walls start pulsing around him. You both still against each other as you feel him start to fill you up with ropes of his hot cum. You collapse onto his chest as you both work your hips against each other, moaning incoherent praises about how good you both did. You ride out your orgasms in tandem, his beautiful, broken moans fill your ears as hot tears cascade down your pink cheeks.

You both pant as you come back down, nerves firing and bodies twitching. You bring your face up to glance down at him. His ruby eyes flutter open to meet yours, his hands move gingerly up your body. His fingertips glide over the bruises already forming on the skin he abused with his teeth. He moves to press a thankful kiss against your battered neck. You run your fingers through his hair and let out a content hum at his affectionate gesture.

He continues to place kisses up your neck, across your jaw, then he grabs your chin so he can tilt your face to the left to kiss where the impact of his knuckles have welted the skin. He does the same with the other cheek so he can kiss where he slapped you on that side.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He mumbles against your flushed face. He timidly slips his softening cock out of your well used hole, you feel warm liquid leak out and spread down your thighs, but at this point it's impossible to know who it's from. You roll off of him and huff when your back hits the bed. He slides off and stands with his hand out for you, you take it and wince when you stand. Your legs threaten to give out, trembling beneath you as you attempt to walk.

"Come here you big baby." He rolls his eyes and scoops you up bridal style. You sigh and lean your head against his shoulder as he hauls you off to the bathroom. He gently sets you in the large claw foot bathtub, you shiver as the frozen porcelain bites your hot skin.

"Here, move forward." He says simply, you obey thoughtlessly. He slides in behind you after flipping the faucet on. He gathers your hair in his hands then moves it over your shoulder so it can fall across your chest when you lean back against him. He brings a hand up to smooth the hair sticking to your sweaty forehead back, placing a sweet kiss to your temple while he does so.

Your eyes flutter closed and you bask in the warmth of his aftercare. Katsuki might be a rockstar in bed, but he really shines in the quiet moments after. He always cares for you like you're something precious that he doesn't want to break. The thought sends a pang of longing through your chest, knowing the security he offers after his rough sex isn't the result of romance.

"Thank you, sir," You sigh out as the water rises over your shaking legs. He smiles against your head, amused at you still addressing him with the name he demands you use in the bedroom, knowing you're still stuck in your obedient headspace.

"Use my name, baby." He says, coaxing you back out of it.

"Thank you, Suki." He hums at the nickname as he reaches for your hand, bringing the back of it to his soft lips.

Soon the water has covered both of your bodies completely, you reach your foot out to turn the faucet off. The heat of the water feels devine against your exhausted muscles, your legs stop trembling and you relax against Katsuki.

"Can we talk?" He asks, head dropping to kiss along the shoulder not covered by your hair.

"What about?" You ask, taking his hand in yours to observe the scars littering his broad palm.

"I meant it." He says, voice deep and intentional.

"Meant what?" You inquire, bringing his hand up to kiss it like he had yours.

"Be mine." He says it like it's obvious, like you should've known better.

Your heart soars at the proposition, but you have to make sure he isn't just talking out of his ass because he's high on endorphins.

"Suki, we agreed that-"

"I know what we fuckin' agreed on." He says gruffly, there's the harsh Bakugo you know.

"I changed my mind." He says, taking a deep breath after changing his tone back to a more caring one.

"Plus I'm doing you a favor." He says, voice laced with mischief.

"How so?" You ask.

"This way you won't have bad sex with lame extras." He states, making you both laugh a little.

"Yeah, good point." You giggle. You turn so you can straddle him, water splashing around you as you do so.

His hands find their home on your waist and his eyes study your face as you settle on his lap.

"You can't have all your ladies though." You sigh, giving a fake pout as you bring your hands up to cradle his face.

"There haven't been any others since this started." His honesty nearly knocks the wind out of you.

"What?" You ask, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Nobody but you." He confirms, leaning up to kiss across your collar bones. He presses his lips into your skin again and again, you pull his face away to look down at him seriously.

"I don't like seeing you with anyone else, I don't want anyone else to have you." He looks up at you through his lashes, an unusual look in his eyes.

"Ok." You breathe out, causing his eyebrows to raise, an almost excited look on his face.

"I'm yours, Suki." You smile down at him. A rare grin spreads across his handsome face and his lips are on yours instantly, kissing you passionately as his arms snake around to grab at your hips.

"Say it again." He mumbles against your lips, still smiling like a fool.

"I'm all yours, Dynamight." You say with a wry smile.

He chuckles, low and dark, before scooping you up by grabbing you under your thighs. You giggle as he pulls you out of the water, he moves quickly back into the bedroom then throws you on the bed. You laugh as you bounce against the mattress.

"What are you doing? We're gonna get the sheets wet!" You yell.

"We already did that, sweetheart." He laughs as he crawls over you.

"Plus, you're my woman now-" He grabs your waist and starts kissing down your stomach, your body reacts to him immediately, head thrown back as his kisses inch lower.

"I've fucked you, now I've gotta make love to you." He says against your hip bone, punctuating his sentence with a sweet bite.

The promise of something so passionate with Bakugo has you reeling. You're more than ready for whatever he has planned for tonight.

"Take me, sparky." You tease, letting him spread your legs.

"Oh baby, I'll do more than that." And just like that, you're seeing stars again.

#bakugou x you #bakugo smut #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha smut #bnha #katsuki x you

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albatross-tech · 3 years ago

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Because I can and my brain is currently melting. Time for some shit posts on my ocs. A majority of them.

Let's talk love and hate :D

Let's start with the boys:

Edwin:

Love: If he loves ya. He'll pull you away from your/his friend group to he alone with you. He'll take off his mask a bit. Wing hugs, he never wing hugs friends. He doesn't get mad when you touch his horns.

Hate: You are dead to him. He will fight you, stay away.

Takashi:

Love: He will outright tell you. He will get you wrapped up in his hobbies.

Hate: Throws major shade and snarky comments. Looks away from you. Mean girl bs.

Nicolas:

Love: Becomes a big dork around you. Really bashful. Gets Jealous really easy when you don't pay attention to him.

Hate: He will hiss at you, literally. If you get near him, he will bite. Ankle biter.

Carter:

Love: Lots of stuttering and can't look you in the eye.

Hate: Cold shoulder, tells it to your face before avoiding you.

Syris:

Love: How can you not know? I've been though this. He's crazy and possesive.

Hate: Just as crazy. He will actively go out of his way to harm you. Maybe even eat you alive. Who knows.

Alexander:

Love: He is always a flirt verbally but when he gets more physical with you. That's when something is up. He opens up to more romantic gestures.

Hate: He Scoffs in your direction and spits at the ground you walk on yet doesn't say a word. I don't know what you did to piss him off. He's normally chill.

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The girls :D

Kimi:

Love: Likes getting close to you and gives you more attention then anyone else.

Hate: She puffs up her cheeks, fluffs up her tail, hair and ears before stomping away at the site of you.

Suzie:

Love: She will challenge you in fun little competitions. Poke fun at you and name call you.

Hate: This woman throws hands, don't fuck with her. She will actively seek you out to throw hands and shit about you to your face in front of your friends. Embarrassing shit too, stuff people will laugh at you for years.

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The MEN:

Atticus:

Love: He doesn't love in an intimate/romantic way. His love is always platonic. He can be your greatest ally. A friend, Teacher and even fatherly figure.

Hate: You signed your death certificate. Or at least you will wish you did. He is a super psychic vampire and he will make your life a living hell.

Zith:

Love: He'll Kidnap you for days on end and make you watch Netflix and scary movies with him, well late in the relationship. He's already a flirt but He gets touchy feely with you. It starts off small, around the shoulders, waist, face...but will eventually slap your ass and make comments.

Hate: He will stab you. Not even a joke, guy is always strapped with something. If he hates you enough then he will make it a slow death. You must be a real annoying person though because he usually let's shit go.

Cujo:

Love: Will appear at your door when you say you have a problem. Will listen to you all night. If he hears that you are sick, he will bring homemade soup personally to you. Honestly will take extra steps then normal to make sure you are okay and feeling loved and cared for.

Hate: He will trap you in a box for a while till his initial anger fizzles out. He will then let you go but don't think you are off the hook. Don't expect help from him and expect to be greeted with a middle finger. If you are a criminal and a monster, You are on the menu.

That is what I got for ocs that I posted about on here already! If I did all my ocs...I would be here all night...

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wolveria · 4 years ago

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Unable to perceive the shape of you - Ch. 1

Pairing: Connor x f!Reader x Nines

Summary: After breaking the RK twins out of the MarineLife facility, you were determined to return them to the ocean before getting caught by your employer.

What you hadn't counted on were the brothers deciding you belonged to them.

Prompt: Mermay!

Word Count: 2.3k

AO3

The lab was empty and the only noise that filled the space was the gentle sound of lapping water. After a quick glance to make sure the techs had left for the day, you sat at the edge of the tank and pulled off your shoes and socks, dipping your toes into the chilly water. A sigh escaped you, the cold a balm against your aching feet, and the pain in your legs receded to a manageable level.

As if on cue, two fins broke the surface of the water, one stout and grey while the other was dark, elegant, but curled over as if it had lost its rigidness. They headed in your direction, causing ripples from the speed of their passing. Just as the disturbances reached you, they broke the surface, revealing twin faces with very different expressions.

The one with the grey dorsal fin chirped in greeting, brown eyes wide as he rubbed the side of his face against your shin like a cat. You smiled, just as you did every time Connor greeted you that way, and reached down to run your hand through his slicked brown hair. And like every other time, his eyes became half-lidded and a soft rumble came from his chest.

The other Ceta sapien with the dark, limp dorsal fin, his twin brother, kept at a tentative distance. Icy grey eyes, the color of stone in the dim light, watched with an unreadable expression. That was to be expected from Nines, but you knew him long enough to know that he was pleased to see you.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said as you rolled up your pant leg, attempting to keep it dry and away from Connor’s affectionate rubbing. “Had a lot of work to finish up.”

Your smile faded as you took in the sight of the contraption around his head; a metal cage that acted as a muzzle, forced onto him earlier that day by the technicians. Nines must have done something to piss them off again.

“I hope you didn’t bite anyone this time,” you said gently, fishing a ring of keys out of your pocket. “Not that they don’t deserve it. I just don’t want them to put you in isolation again.”

You held out your hand to show him the keys. “Come here, I’ll take it off.”

You’d probably get in trouble for it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The only reason you were still at this shitty job was because of the RK twins. Everyone else treated them like curiosities at best, lab rats at worst. You were genuinely afraid what would happen to them if you left.

Connor rested his chin on your bare knee as he watched his brother cautiously swim toward you. His face normally didn’t have a huge range of expression, but you could have sworn the area around his eyes was tight with fear. That wasn’t like him at all.

Making sure your movements were slow and unthreatening, you reached down to the small padlock keeping the strap in place. The techs had put it there because Nines had figured out how to undo the straps and remove the muzzle himself, leaving it at the bottom of the massive tank so the divers would have to get it. Probably on purpose, knowing him.

Your fingers were careful as you removed the lock and pulled open the straps, lifting the cruel device from around his face.

“There,” you said, tossing the muzzle away, glad to be rid of it. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Nines remained silent as he usually did, nowhere near as vocal as his brother, but he brushed the edge of one broad shoulder against your calf, leaving you warm with surprise as he retreated a safe distance. You could count on one hand the times he’d made physical contact, and as far as you knew, you were the only person he’d ever touched willingly.

Connor, on the other hand, was an insatiable cuddle-bug, and even now he was nudging his nose against your leg, and then actually licked it, making you jump.

“You’re especially clingy today.” You ran your fingers through his hair, eliciting another happy thrill. “Is it because of what they did to Nines?”

The smaller ceta was normally much more friendly with humans, but when they handled Nines roughly, he could become a vicious storm of teeth and claws. The techs never worked on them both at the same time for that reason, separating them into different pools and causing them both more stress than necessary.

You hated it. Hated everything about this place, from the rough techs to the cruel doctors. Dr. Stern made your blood run cold, but Dr. Kamski made the flesh on the back of your neck prickle. You hated them both, and you were human. You couldn’t imagine what it was like for the twins.

“It’s okay,” you said, rubbing Connor’s cheek now and letting him lean into your palm. “You’re both okay now.”

A lie you had to tell but hated telling. More than you hated your heartless bosses who only saw the cetas as a source of grant money and academic prestige.

As if they could sense your mood, which you were half-convinced they could, Connor wrapped his fingers around your ankle and gently tugged. He was always gentle with your legs, especially on bad pain days. That’s just how Connor was, in tune with your moods in a way that was almost unsettling.

Even Nines swam closer, brows perked with interest as he hovered a couple feet away.

“I don’t know if I have time for that tonight, guys,” you said, shoulders hunched. “It’s late and I have to be in early tomorrow—“

Connor interrupted you with a pitiful noise very close to a whine and his brother frowned up at you, lips pursed into an expression that was almost, and hilariously, bitchy. Sometimes, you really thought they understood what you were saying. You wished more than anything they could talk, but they couldn’t. They weren’t human, no matter how you wished otherwise.

Connor gave up on pulling you into the water, and instead propped his chin on your knee, staring up at you with big brown eyes that could put an actual puppy to shame.

“I can’t,” you insisted, the sternness of your voice sabotaged by the smile creeping on your lips. “Not tonight.”

The larger ceta snorted through his nostrils and turned away. You thought he was going to ignore you and pout, but instead he dived beneath the surface and—

You yelped and covered your head with your hands as his large black and white tail slapped against the surface, covering you in an impressive wave of cold water.

“Oh, you asshole!” you choked out as you wiped the water from your eyes. Connor was making a rapid-fire clicking noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. You sent him a narrowed glare and his lips widened into a toothy grin.

“Don’t encourage him,” you said, pointing a figure at Connor. The smaller ceta simply tilted his head as if he had no idea what on earth you were talking about and he’d never done anything wrong in his life.

You really were spending too much time with them. It was a bad habit of yours, seeing things that couldn’t possibly be there. Little looks and gestures that seemed to mean something more, and you constantly had to remind yourself it was all wishful thinking and loneliness.

Huffing and rolling your eyes, you pulled your legs out of the water and rose to your feet. You needed to put a stop to this and start spending time with other people, even if you would rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

Connor made a small, pathetic chirp as he swam to the edge of the water. He grabbed the ledge and stared up at you, and you could have sworn there was sadness there. Even the armband around his right bicep, normally glowing blue, brightened to a bright yellow, reflecting his increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

Goddammit.

“Okay. Okay. You two are gonna get me fired, you know that?” Your protested sounded weak to your own ears, but it was all worth it to see Connor’s ears perk up and his armband return to a soothing blue.

Even Nines had come back, waiting along the edge of the research pool with Connor, staring up at you expectantly. His armband had never changed from its blue color, but that was just how he was. Somehow, he’d learned how to keep his vital signs calm and cool, even when he was seconds away from trying to take off someone’s fingers.

The techs blamed faulty equipment even though they’d never found anything wrong with the armband. You knew better; Nines had learned the humans used the armbands as a gauge to predict their moods, and Nines had outsmarted them. And would continue to outsmart them, because you seemed to be the only person who realized what he was up to.

Sometimes, like right now, as he was leveling his unblinking, heavy gaze at you while you got undressed, made you wonder just how smart he was. Even now, his grey eyes were too aware, and you had to turn away as you tugged off your clothing.

You wore a bathing suit underneath, a two-piece consisting of boy shorts and a halter top. It was convenient in that it acted like underwear under your clothing, and let you slip into the pool at the end of your shift to swim with the twin brothers.

The swimsuit also had the benefit of being kind of sexy. Not that you were trying to impress anyone. It was sad enough the brothers were the closest things you had to friends.

You sat down at the edge of the water and turned around, resting the ledge against your stomach so you could slip down into the water more easily.

A pair of arms grabbed you from behind immediately, pulling you down into the water.

You gave a startled yelp, sputtered as salt water entered your mouth, and spit it out with an annoyed growl. The arms didn’t let you go, and instead pull you back against a warm chest as he swam backwards along the surface of the water.

Usually Connor gave you a little more time to adjust before grabbing you and swimming around like a seal with its favorite toy.

Normally you tolerated it, but you couldn’t stay as long as you usually did, and you wanted to actually get some swimming done to try and ease the pain in your leg joints and soothe the rigid calf muscles.

“Okay, Connor, that’s enough.”

A frantic chirp came from the left from a few feet away. You opened your eyes, startled to find Connor following after you.

You tensed, heart hammering as your limbs went rigid, and the ceta carrying you along slowed to a stop. He didn’t release his hold and you looked down to see the arms were slightly bigger than they should have been.

Oh, fuck, was your first thought.

He’s going to eat me, was your second.

You took a breath and tried to hold your voice steady. “Nines. I need you to let me go.”

You remained firmly within his embrace. If anything, he slightly tightened his grip.

He’s is definitely going to fucking eat me.

“Nines, let me go.”

The fear was definitely clear in your voice now. He must have heard it. You were so screwed. It was the only thing your brain would repeat, even though human deaths by cetas were rare these days. They still happened, though, and the corded muscles holding you still could easily tear you limb from limb.

Connor moved closer, head tilted in curiosity, but worse, his armband was glowing yellow again.

Blue, go through.

Yellow, not mellow.

Red, you’re dead.

The motto the technicians lived by. You were pretty sure you were dead anyway, even without the color codes. You glanced down at Nines’ armband and it was yellow too.

Not good.

Connor chirped sharply at his brother. Nines returned the sound with a lower, deeper growl. The monkey part of your brain told you a shark was about to sink its rows of teeth around your neck.

Connor released another series of noises, complex chirps and clicks you’d never heard before, and could have sworn… they were talking. Sure, cetas communicated with each other, but they didn’t have a language. They didn’t—

Connor moved forward and Nines moved back in equal measure. You could feel the bend of his tail against your legs, long and powerful, and the monkey part of your brain shrieked in fear again.

It was nothing compared to the terror when Nines took you away from Connor and picked up speed. You knew he was going to pull you under the water, drown you, probably not even doing it on purpose.

Tears pricked your eyes as your heart thudded in your chest. This was it. They were going to find you at the bottom of the pool the next morning, drowned and partially eaten.

Would anyone even care?

“Nines, stop!”

Your mouth hung open, your brain unable to process. You hadn’t shouted the words.

Nines came to an immediate standstill. Connor swam forward, brows furrowed sharply as his eyes darted between you and his brother.

“You’re scaring her.”

The words were soft, gentle, and impossibly coming from Connor’s mouth.

“Unfortunate,” a voice said, directly next to your ear. A voice that sounded almost identical to Connor’s. “But unavoidable.”

A hand clamped down over your mouth when you tried to scream, but the fight was already going out of you as an intense dizziness hit, leaving you woozy and weak. This couldn’t be happening.

They were talking.

Next Chapter

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #mermay #mermaid au #merman!connor #merman!nines #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #connor x reader x nines #rk1700 #rk1700 x reader #my writing #my fanfiction

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hunidlo · 4 years ago

Text

Call of Fire

CHAPTER 2 - The Purpose

Rating: M

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: The Mandalorian x F!Reader

Warnings: slow burn fic, violence, injuries, death, grief, language

A/N: English is not my first language so apologies for any mistakes in grammar. I’m basically making stuff up about the reader’s powers but why not, right?

Summary: Taunting a bandit is never a good idea. Thank Maker, Mando is near to save the day.

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***

The Mandalorian stands on the top of the ramp to his ship looking in the direction of your escape, the stick still firmly clutched in his hand. He tosses it to the side with frustration and shakes his head to clear his mind and forget about the whole incident. He knows he has more pressing matters to attend to right now. He looks at the tracking fob which is now flashing rapidly with red light.

He lifts his head and looks again towards the woods where you have disappeared just moments ago—

“Shit!” he sighs.

------------------------------------------

You are trying to calm down and catch your breath. Your knees buckle, taking you to the ground. You sit exhausted, stabbing pain regularly shooting to your side.

“You mean ... like ... a real Mandalorian?” Zullu is standing above you, wiping sweat from her forehead with dirty hands, smearing mud all over it. “Like from my gran’s stories?”

“Yep,” you say simply.

And then you start laughing. Hysterically. It might be the exhaustion, or maybe you just can't believe you pulled off sneaking into a ship belonging to a Mandalorian. Maybe both … but you are currently laughing yourself silly.

Zullu is watching you awkwardly. She chuckles a couple of times until she is laughing with you and your guffaws echo through the forest.

“We should get back to the village,” you say eventually, still panting and your stomach aching from all the giggling. “I owe you—by the way—you totally saved me back there,” you admit and Zullu smiles at you in appreciation.

“D-do you think he’s following us?” Zullu is biting her nails and keeps looking over her shoulder as you walk.

“Relax. If he was, he would have already caught us.”

Oh, just how badly you have underestimated him.

***

You’re finally getting closer to the village when the sun is about to set. You’re exhausted but you can’t stop wondering, what is a Mandalorian doing on this planet.

Then again, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t know and if you are lucky, he’ll leave just as quickly as he appeared because the last thing the people in your village need right now, is more trouble. And he sure looked like a lot of trouble … broad-shouldered, mysterious, intriguing, and so intimidating … yeah, ... basically a definition of trouble.

“Gran used to say, most Mandalorians were mercenaries and bounty hunters. Maybe he’s really here because of ... you.” Zullu says out of nowhere, interrupting your—let’s be honest, slightly embarrassing—train of thought.

You shake your head when you process what she’s saying, “Nonsense, how could he possibly ... it’s been fifteen years ...”

“Yeah, but they don’t forget, you know,” Zullu frowns, looking genuinely worried. “You can’t be hiding here forever.”

“Fed up with me already?” you try to lighten the now heavy atmosphere. In fact, you are not overly fond of the conversation getting far too serious now.

“No … n-no, you know you’re my best friend”—she’s looking down at her feet as always when she’s struggling to find the right words—“it’s just … I feel … feel like you have a different … purpose, you know? ... Like in life? ... You’re not supposed to work on the field for the rest of it.”

“What’s wrong with the work on the field?”

“Except the fact that you hate it?”

You don’t like her sarcastic tone—yet—she’s got a point. You love the village, you love the people, but a farmer’s life is just not for you. You crave adventure. Maybe that’s why you so desperately seek it whenever a chance occurs. Eventually, you have to admit to yourself that—to some extent—that’s why you want to fight the bandits … and why you so recklessly pissed the Mandalorian off ...

… And then there’s the thing about your origin and your parents. Fifteen years ago, your parents left you here to hide you—to save you. The villagers took you in. You want to go to search for your parents but … you could never leave Zullu.

“I …,” Zullu continues when you’re being quiet for too long, “I just think … know actually … you’re meant to—.”

“And you?” you smile and try to steer the conversation away from you. “What’s your life purpose?”

She shrugs, “Uh ... don’t know... haven’t found my purpose yet.”

“Well, I’m sure yours is much greater than mine.”

Zullu exhales through her nose. “Don’t you wanna know why your parents left you here, hiding you from—” She looks over her shoulder one more time. “—the Empire?” she whispers the last words as if someone might be eavesdropping.

Oh no, here we go—the topic you wanted to avoid.

“The Empire is gone,” you reply, “my parents are ... too—most probably—so we might just never know.”

“A-and you’re okay with that? I mean… not knowing who you really are?”

“Yes,” you say resolutely. “And I’m fine with working on the farm for the rest of my life,” not so resolutely.

Zullu tilts her head sideways, raises her eyebrows at you and blinks slowly.

“Why are you bringing this up again?” irritation in your voice is now undeniable.

“Because… the Mandalorian—”

“Oh, Mandalorian-Shmandalorian ...” you snap.

“... and I haven’t told you but—” she continues, ignoring your comment, “—I have overheard mum talking about you. She said … said your parents—”

“Do you hear that?” you cut her off. “Listen ...”

And then you hear it again. The horn.

The horn!

What? No. No! It’s too early, it can’t be ... next week … it’s three months next week … they shouldn’t be here this early.

Wasting no more time, you burst into a sprint and run to the village as fast as you can. Zullu’s right behind you.

The villagers are just as confused as you are but are already gathering on the square nevertheless.

“What’s happening? They shouldn’t—” Zullu panics.

“I know,” you exhale, “They’re early. We’re not ready.”

“What do we do?”

You sigh but do not reply to her.

The bandits head straight to the barn to look for the stored food. Their leader is watching over the villagers who stand in a line as always. One of the bandits comes over and whispers something to his boss, but you can’t hear what he’s saying.

“Take everything, we’re gonna need it,” the leader replies to his mate and dismisses him with a simple wave of his hand.

With that … Shit! The fire’s back. It’s back and it’s running through your body like molten lava—

“You can’t!” you hear yourself crying out with a voice firmer than you expected. “You’re early … we couldn’t … the people will starve here!”

Zullu, who is standing next to you, turns her head in your direction wide-eyed.

You are not exactly sure why you did it—and what you should do next—but you can't let them steal all your supplies, right?

The leader takes a few steps forward and looks down at you.

Surprisingly enough, you’re not scared. You’ve seen a more intimidating gaze today and this guy is nowhere near as threatening as the Mandalorian. So you give him the most defiant look you have. And then—

Your little staring competition ends abruptly when the bandit slaps you with the back of his armoured hand and watches as you drop to your knees.

Son of a bitch, that hurt. That fucking hurt. You hold your jaw in your hand and flex it as you feel the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth.

--------------------------------------------

“Stupid … again … brave … but stupid,” the Mandalorian exhales to himself.

He’s lying on the top of the hill above the village, observing the whole scenario through the scope of his rifle.

He rises to his feet with an irritated grunt.

--------------------------------------------

You don’t remember ever being hit like this. Your jaw hurts but you’re determined not to let the bastard enjoy humiliating you. You need a few moments to recover but then you slowly get to your feet again, put on the same venomous look as before, and spit in the bandit’s face, spattering a considerable amount of blood mixed with your saliva all over his repulsive visage.

“You little ...” The bandit wipes the blood with the back of his hand and gropes for his blaster.

To your astonishment—and before you can come up with an action plan preventing you from being shot in the head—he suddenly halts his movement and is now looking over your shoulder, squinting at something behind you.

You follow his gaze and turn around to see ...

… the Mandalorian?

Huh, so he followed you back after all.

Only now can you take a proper look at him as he’s slowly approaching the village. Sure, you saw—and let’s not forget also fought—him back on his ship, but everything happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to fully scrutinize the way he looks.

You should not be so amazed. You used to listen to Zullu’s grandmother—eagerly hanging on her every word—when she told the stories about the Mando’ade to local children in the evenings. You knew the Mandalorians are bound with a creed and their culture revolves around war and battles which the elderly woman used to tell you about. Never have you imagined them to be this impressive though. So you just stand there with your mouth half open, taking in every detail of him as he comes nearer.

He’s tall, evidently agile and strong, judging by his arms and thighs. Well, and you also remember how hard his grip was on you this afternoon. His armour seems almost crimson now as it reflects the light of the setting sun. Beskar—you recall— that's what the old woman said their armour was made of. He has a rifle strapped to his back, a blaster by his side, and the wind plays with his cape as it flutters behind him. What a presence.

His helmet is pointed at the bandit standing next to you, piercing him with the same intimidating look he gave you when he caught you sneaking into his ship.

“Let them go,” he says, his voice dark and foreboding.

“We have no quarrel with you, Mando. Feel free to turn around and walk away.” The bandit is trying to stay calm but he’s just whistling in the dark.

“If you don’t want to start one, leave the supplies and never come back.” The Mandalorian is getting closer and closer to the square keeping the same slow resolute pace.

The other raiders have already noticed the disturbance and one by one began emerging from the barn, joining their leader on the square.

The Mandalorian doesn’t seem to care much that he’s outnumbered. He stops and rests his hand on his holster. He looks at the villagers and jerks his helmet to the side. They understand the gesture and back up slowly. You intend to do the same.

However, the bandit leader notices your intention, quickly wraps an arm around your neck and pushes you in front of him, hiding thus his body behind you. He’s now taking slow steps back—retreating—using your body as a human shield.

“Kill him,” he growls and drags you behind the cart that is conveniently standing in the square with half of your supplies already loaded up.

Your back is pushed to the offender's chest so you're facing away from all the action and you can only hear when the blasters begin shooting all at once. You have no idea what’s happening on the square behind you. You can hope for the best but you’re not entirely sure what it is. From what you know, the Mandalorian might be just as barbaric as the bandits so it might be out of the frying pan and into the fire for the village anyway.

After a good ten minutes of shooting, dull bangs and a couple of shrieks, there’s silence.

Suddenly—you’re being pulled out from the hideout. The last bandit standing is pushing you in front of him and you can feel a barrel of his blaster now pressed to your temple.

There are about ten bodies lying scattered around the square—lifeless—a smoke from the blaster shots still rising from some of them. With your peripheral vision, you can see a few of the survivors disappearing in the woods. They apparently decided to cut and run.

The Mandalorian is kneeling on one knee, leaning over one of the bodies, checking their vital signs. He swiftly draws his weapon again when he sees you two approaching.

“Drop the blaster, Mando,” the bandit warns. “Drop it, or I’ll kill her.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands up slowly and lays his blaster on the ground. However, as he raises to his feet, a flock of little whistling arrows shoots from his vambrace and flies towards you. You shut your eyes awaiting certain death. Instead, the pressure against your temple disappears, the arm around your neck eases its grip and the bandit falls dead behind you.

You raise your vision only to see the Mandalorian striding towards you. You’re still petrified and puzzled.

Suddenly, he stops midway, staring emptily behind you.

Um ... this is not good.

You slowly turn around and gulp.

A horde of bandits, probably the rest of their encampment is rushing towards you. Ten or fifteen brutes armed with blasters, knives and spears got alerted somehow and are ready to avenge their fallen comrades.

“Hide!” the Mandalorian shouts to you, raising his blaster again.

You do as you’re told. You run past him and across the square, noticing the huts are deserted. All the villagers must have already fled to the woods during the first shootout. You can only hope that Zullu escaped with them.

You dash into the woods not stopping for a moment. You can still hear the shooting behind you coming from the village. You should find the others, find Zullu, make sure she’s alright—

A figure comes from their hideout behind one of the trees about fifty feet in front of you.

It's one of the bandits.

“Going somewhere?” he smirks at you, his blaster already levelled at your chest.

He doesn’t wait for your reaction. A blaster shot echoes through the forest. For a second time today, you close your eyes awaiting the inevitable. When you open them again, Zullu is standing in front of you, her hands spread out in a protective gesture.

“No!” you cry out, tears already forming in the corners of your eyes.

She falls backwards to your arms and you slowly put her to the ground with trembling hands, holding her head in your lap as you kneel under her.

You hear the bandit in front of you burst into laughter. Horrible, gruesome laughter. Rage is building in your body, igniting every molecule. You look at him to see he’s raising his blaster once more to point it at you.

You’re going berserk, the fire is spiralling through you more intensely than ever before. You feel like your body would combust if you hold it back longer. You can’t fight it anymore. You won’t.

Somehow instinctively, you stretch your arms out in front of you, your fingers spread out but you’re slowly, convulsively closing them up. The bandit’s body lifts from the ground. Confused, he frantically kicks around, searching for solid ground under his feet. Then, his face distorts into a horrifying, painful grimace. You are holding him in front of you for a couple of seconds until you abruptly spread your arms with an excruciating scream. Following the movement of your hands, the bandit’s body is torn in half in front of your eyes. His lower half is tossed vigorously to the left, his torso to the right, colliding with the nearby tree with a splashy thud.

You have absolutely no understanding of what just happened but you have no time to think about it now. You quickly turn your attention to Zullu who is looking at you with glossy eyes.

There’s a nasty blaster wound in her belly and she’s covering it with her weak hands.

“Zullu—,” you cry out, “—fuck—what have you done?”

“I saved you, dummy.” Her chuckles turn to cough.

“... You’re gonna be alright. We’ll get you help … just stay with me, okay?” You try to shift yourself under her body so that you can attend to her wound.

She grabs you by your wrist and shakes her head. “I’m fine ... I’m ready ... f-found … my purpose ...,” she struggles to speak, “... now promise me, you’ll find yours.”

“Don’t talk like that—”

“I saw what you did … I’ve always known … you’re special.”

“I-uh ...” You’re lost for words.

“... I overheard mum saying … saying your father was a doctor—clone engineer … worked for the … Empire … betrayed them … they hunted him ... that’s why your parents hid you here.” Zullu coughs and takes a couple of deep breaths before she speaks again. “She knows where they are.” Zullu looks straight to your eyes as she continues, “I’m sorry I haven’t told you before. I was scared you would leave, but I know now that you have to go, you have to find them.”

“You’re my best friend, I won’t leave you, I need y—” a choking sense of despair causes your voice to crack before you are able to finish.

“You were never meant to stay on this p-planet ... you’re meant to do great things ... I know it ... find your parents, find your purpose … promise me ...”

You feel dizzy now. “Zullu—”

“Promise me!” she urges.

“I promise ...”

She smiles at you, raising her hand to touch your cheek but it collapses on the ground beside her and you witness the sparks in her eyes die out.

You burst into tears and tug her close to you. Hugging and squeezing her motionless body—consumed by aching grief—you cry.

You do not know how much time has passed but you finally find the strength to get up from the ground. You gently pick Zullu’s body up. The shooting that could have been heard from the village before has ceased.

You slowly walk towards the village, carrying Zullu in your arms. You don’t care about the possible threat that might still be lurking in the woods. Your mind is blank, you feel empty inside. There’s nothing left, only pain.

You have lost everything today.

***

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fan fic #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal

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