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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 7 months ago

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Angsty fight/venting alternate ending

(Part two to this)

For @guiltyscarlet and @aceauthorcatqueen who asked for the angsty ending

CW for major character death. I’m not sure if this counts as dark!Arthur but there is murder scene so mild description of injury. There’s also self destruction from Merlin, possibly self harm, I’m not sure where it falls, and a mental breakdown or two here as well. Also canonical character death right at the end but it’s not graphic.

You’ve all been warned. You’re responsible for your online media consumption so take care of yourselves and don’t read if you think this will negatively affect you.

(Click more for angsty shit.)

I imagine this version to happen around season 5, if it was the hurt/comfort version, I’d say between season seasons 2/3 but the angst needs more time to have the full effect. Merlin is worried because of Mordred and the disir and everything else going on.

After Arthur says “Really. All you do is follow orders. It’s not hard.” Merlin looks over, angry and upset, but when he sees Arthur’s attempt at caring, tears start pooling in his eyes.

Arthur looks startled, unsure what to do, when Merlin looks away, shakes his head and whispers brokenly “Fight me” and it sounds so defeated, like really the last words of a man who’s officially given up. Arthur doesn’t move, and Merlin looks up again, something pleading in his eyes, as he begs, “Fight me. Please.”

Arthur’s in new territory now, their fights have never had anything other than frustration or anger or irritation, occasionally jealousy after that one time where he thought someone was flirting with Merlin Arthur would never admit to. But Merlin seems like he’s just going to use it to get beat up and hurt more. It goes against what they do, and he’s seen Knights fall to similar fates after such things got too far. So Arthur is terrified, he doesn’t want to lose Merlin and doesn’t know how to help so he can keep him.

So he asks “What’s going on?” Breaking the script and throwing Merlin off. Which definitely isn’t something he needs, while he’s that close to a breakdown all he really wants is to remember that the world will keep going forward so he can figure out how to keep going forward too, he really just needs a constant that he can rely on. Arthur’s attitude tends to be a pendulum swing between an array of things depending on multiple factors out of Merlin’s control so he can never figure out what side he’s going to get. So he’s resorted to their fight vents. It’s also not what he needs, but it’s consistent. He can shout or scream, throw a punch, take a punch or two, and then focus on the ache in his muscles instead of the pain in his chest and head.

Merlin doesn’t reply to Arthur’s question, instead he stands up and drops his stance, telling Arthur again to fight him. Arthur knows he isn’t going to get anywhere so he stands up too and as soon as he’s on his feet, Merlin is throwing a punch at him. Arthur manages to partially dodge, taking a hit to his shoulder instead of his face.

It’s right over the questing beast scar, if anyone’s wondering. If I was properly writing this, I’d have a parallel between Arthur’s scars from times Merlin’s saved him and where Merlin is hitting. Probably something about all the times Merlin saved him and how because they’re two sides of the same coin, destroying himself is destroying Arthur too.

Anyway.

Arthur realises how much it hurt, and how Merlin really isn’t pulling any punches now. He starts fighting back, properly defending himself while Merlin dances around him. With each punch there’s choked back sobs or hitches in his breath.

Arthur realises Merlin is crying and tries to help him with something of their normal routine. It helps Arthur, so hopefully it’ll help Merlin too. It doesn’t, of course. But he does try.

He tries taunting Merlin into talking about it, “don’t cry, your fighting skills aren’t that bad.”

Merlin growls through his tears, biting back, “Why? Not worth my tears?” As he attacks viciously and relentlessly.

It confuses Arthur, because that’s what he said about the dragonlord years ago. “You can’t cry over every fallen soldier.” Arthur bites out, dodging a particularly harsh punch aimed at his jaw. And he’s known that lesson for a long time, he kept it with him when he lost young knights while he was still a prince, all his fallen comrades, his best knight, his brother in law, all of them.

“He wasn’t a soldier!” Merlin screamed as Arthur felt his head snap to the side with a punch to his jaw. It’d definitely bruise, but he could blame it on training. “He wasn’t supposed to die!” Another punch knocks Arthur over, “I was supposed to save him!” Merlin jumps on him, and Arthur can barely process that, only just rolling out of the way from instinct alone. Merlin doesn’t move away to come after Arthur, just crumbles on the floor, punching the stone weakly while sobbing.

“It’s my fault.” He says brokenly, “I couldn’t save them, how can I save you?” His body is wracked with sobs, he can hardly see for the tears blurring his eyes, and Arthur is behind him unsure what to do.

Merlin gets a ringing in his ears, sharp and piercing and he can hear his heart beating, breath comes short to him, images of Mordred thrusting a sword into Arthur’s middle playing over and over in his head.

“I- I couldn’t- I can’t-“ he’s clutching at his throat, trying to breathe, trying to think of anything to say, as he scrambles at his neckerchief, he can’t get it off. In a moment of clarity, he desperately cries out, “Arthur?”

Arthur is there, ripping through the fabric and rubbing up and down Merlin’s back to get him to breathe.

“Why is it your responsibility to protect people better equipped to handle dangerous situations than you are?” Arthur asks quietly, not fighting anymore but Merlin shrugs him off.

“They aren’t knights.” He’s gritting his teary and the words have a bite Arthur knows means Merlin isn’t done. “Will, Freya, Balinor, they weren’t knights.” Merlin gets angrier and angrier as he’s speaking, “and I’m not some hopeless wimp like you think I am, Sire.”

Merlin pushes himself up and paces the length of the fire place. “It’s my duty to keep you safe.”

“You’re not a knight!”

Arthur stands up too, yelling in frustration at not understanding what’s going on with Merlin. He’s frustrated at Merlin for being stubborn and at himself for not knowing what to do. Clearly, Merlin wants to fight. Both times he tried letting him speak, Merlin went back to biting and anger and whatever else was left as a result of his pain. Now he’s hopelessly letting Merlin lead him but Merlin isn’t in the mental state to know what he needs.

It’s a new situation for them both, and they’re struggling.

They argue some more, Merlin shoves Arthur back a few times when he’s unintentionally insensitive. “Balinor wasn’t even necessary for defeating the dragon!” “I can protect myself just fine without you cowering behind trees ten feet away!” “William was a sorcerer!”

At some point, Merlin snaps, shoves Arthur back again though not hard enough to fall, and yells that he has magic. Arthur, feeling betrayed and already frustrated from their fight not working, throws a full force, vicious punch. Merlin palms it, and starts yelling about everything he’s done.

Arthur’s getting angrier, and angrier, and angrier. And he isn’t truly angry, he’s hurt, betrayed, confused, lost, afraid, and a billion and one other emotions all at once. But anger is easier to feel, so he defaults to that.

Arthur stars really fighting Merlin, yelling about the lies and “how could he keep this a secret? Why would he lie for ten years?” Merlin doesn’t even have a chance to reply, too busy dodging or minimising the damage Arthur can do. It’s reversed at this point, and Arthur is the one trained to kill with hand to hand.

Merlin is struggling to keep up.

His nose is definitely broken, he’s covered in bruises, his muscles are burning and he’s more focused on just getting Arthur to calm down.

It doesn’t work, and at some point, Merlin ends up pressed against the wall with Arthur pinning him by the throat. Arthur’s still yelling his questions and accusations about Merlin’s magic. It takes a while, he’s pinned and loosing air for a few minutes.

It never even crosses his mind to use it to get away when Arthur starts pressing too hard against his windpipe and Merlin’s vision starts blurring and fading darker.

Arthur notices this and yells at Merlin to defend himself and fight back, Merlin only rasps out, “won’t hurt you,” before going limp. Arthur steps back, and Merlin crumples to the floor.

It’s at that point that he sees Merlin bleeding from a gaping head wound and notices his knuckles broken from where his rings have shattered them during their fight. He panics and pulls off his shirt to press to the head wound.

Arthur is left trying to stop the bleeding, he scoops Merlin up, calls for guards and grabs the first aid kit Merlin made him keep in his rooms a few months after working for Arthur (after the Sophia incident) the guards come in and he immediately sends them to Gaius, starting to stitch Merlin’s head and doing everything he can.

Merlin’s breath is fading and his heart rate is sluggish at best.

It takes another five minutes for Gaius to get there, by that time it’s too late and Merlin is going to die.

Gaius knows this, and the most he can do is give Merlin pain killers, but even if he survives he won’t wake up and he’ll have a few weeks at most of being comatose because of medieval medicine. (This is not historically accurate, but I can’t be arsed with research)

Arthur can’t accept this. He keeps trying to stop Merlin’s bleeding and covering his head in honey to fight infection and anything else that isn’t doing anything. Gaius tries to pull Arthur away but he refuses, and threatens Gaius with execution if he stops Arthur from saving his Merlin.

In the end, Arthur is working on Merlin’s head for two hours before he stops breathing and his heart gives out fully and half an hour after he’s died. Gaius declares Merlin dead and Arthur can do nothing but scream. It takes four knights to hold him down so they can take Merlin’s body away.

Arthur still doesn’t understand why Merlin wanted to fight him, and it takes him a long time to remember anything Merlin said about magic, or Balinor, or protecting Arthur. By the time he remembers, Gaius has left Camelot in his grief so he has no one to ask for answers.

Arthur goes mad, seeking answers from Druids and other magic users, all the stories about Emrys make him believe people are lying to him because Merlin couldn’t be the most powerful sorcerer and not tell him about it. After Merlin lied for ten years, Arthur closes himself off and doesn’t trust anyone. He’s paranoid and in his Paranoia, he’s killed by Mordred who’s angry that Arthur killed Emrys, the golden age doesn’t happen and magic fades from the land.

The end :)

—

Thoughts?? Hope you enjoyed :)

I tried to keep it as mild as I could, if I wrote this properly it’d most likely end up a lot more graphic and with a lot more character analysis and emotional shit. I don’t know what I’m allowed to post on here but this is about as mild as I can make it without loosing any of the important bits.

I could easily write 20-30k of this but I’m not starting anything new at the moment. I might come back to it at some point to turn it into a full fic but it won’t be for a while yet. I’ll see what the dopamine decides when I have time and energy for another project.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #angst #hurt/no comfort #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merthur #sort of #I never said it was happy merthur #i’m bad at tagging

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sinkingnotsoslowly · 1 year ago

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Paint the Universe

Pairing: Art teacher Hyunjin x idol Reader

Warnings: angst

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

masterlist

Autumn's sighs- little soft thoughts about our favourite boys

⋆.*ೃ✧

“I don’t think I should be with you, love”

The first sentence he uttered when he felt the bed shift beside him. He had his eyes closed and his head in his hands griping at the locks. Hyunjin had been pondering a lot lately. It started with a little insecurity about dating an idol. Then he saw the tweets of the fans and since then the voice inside his head hasn’t stopped murmuring. The tweets were about the rumour of you dating a school teacher. They were saying how that was so anticlimactic. The so-called fans expected you to date another celebrity if you ever did. But a teacher?

Hyunjin kept thinking about it for a few days and the voice inside his head kept dragging him deeper in his thoughts. It was so suffocating, he wanted to rip his hair out. How could he ever give you what you deserved? You deserved the whole universe and he only had a paintbrush. He hated himself for not being enough for you. He was only an art teacher at a school and you, you were a saviour to thousands of people.

Hyunjin was not aware of your profession when he started seeing you. You had walked up to him at a cafe when he was deep into perfecting the left paw of Minho’s cat on his sketchbook. It was refreshing and humbling to realise that Hyunjin did not recognise you, so you did not say anything about it either. You just left a compliment on his drawing skills. But you kept going back to the café every day before practice or schedule and you kept seeing him there. You were never much of a coffee person but maybe the mystical artist was the reason you started drinking coffee. And you were satisfied to just stay at the corner and gaze at the man, observing him. A little stalkerish for sure but you left as soon as you finished your drink. You did not think that Hyunjin would notice your eyes on him considering that he was always in his own little bubble. But he did. And so one day, he just got up to ask about why you kept staring at him. And of course, it all started from there.

You told him about your job when it started to get serious. And you did not expect Hyunjin to commit after hearing that because idols have tough schedules and giving time to your partner was a huge factor. But Hyunjin was very sincere about dating you not even the restrictions because of media could waver his sincerity. He did not realise then that both of you were of different worlds.

“It’s the rumours, isn’t it?”, he nodded

You eased his hands away from his hair and brought them to your face to leave kisses. His knuckles had turned white with how hard he was gripping his hair. “I’m so sorry. I was not here when it started getting bad. I was so busy and it’s not an excuse to not be here for you. But please look at me, don’t listen to anything anyone is saying-”

“I can’t hear you I can’t- the voices are getting to me (yn)”, he let out a sob, still not looking at you, “A-and isn’t it all true anyway, I’m merely worth anything”

“NO Hyunjin, love, look at me”, you said lifting his face to make him look at you. He could barely see you through the tears in his eyes.

“Darling, do you love me?”, Hyunjin nodded. “How much do you love me?”

“More than anything I could ever love”, he sniffled.

“Then believe me when I say that no one can ever love me more than you do”, you too were tearing up. You could not bear to see the love of your life in such pain. “The voices are lying to you. Every day I can get out of bed because I know that I can come back home to you. Sometimes I think that maybe I should let you go, you deserve a partner who can give you more time and a normal peaceful life away from the chaos of this industry. But you know what stops me?” Hyunjin kept looking at you now with curious eyes, “What stops me is that I don’t think anyone can ever love you as I do. And I want to make you the happiest person in the whole world because you too make me the happiest. You are worth more than you can ever imagine”

“B-but you deserve the universe-”

“Then paint me one. Paint the universe for me in your canvas."

⋆.*ೃ✧

note: Surprise!!! I can still write. But yeah I do still have a writer's block so there won't be any consistent posts. If you want to help me with a little nudge then please do come talk to me in my asks, you can also send me your ideas or prompts or whatever really. My asks are open.

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song-tam · 2 years ago

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do you have any good kam fics/oneshot recommendations?

hi wait im so so sorry that this took me like. two months to answer. it was stuck in my drafts and i just kept. forgetting abt it but it’s here now so !!! hopefully that makes up for it skdhsgsks

also i actually did a similar post/fic list like this a while back here (thank you for finding the link aves i owe you one), and while i haven’t really seen any new content for them in the meantime there’s still a good few!!

let’s not lose ourselves by glitter_demon (@fey-glitter) - ngl more of a tam character study than it is kam, but there are elements of them in the drabble. i’d still highly recommend it even w/o too much kam bc i rarely see tam characterization in fanon done as well as this one and i’m being soo normal about it

before the night ends by handpulledsilver (@soryasongsaa) - OKAY can i just say. ive reread this fucker more times than i can count it’s one of my favorites ever. its a sort of companion fic to ink’s other fic (scared of the sun, recced that one in the other list), an exes to lovers story, plenty of feels and emotions that have me on the floor sobbing. def worth a read !!

the lie between your teeth (the cut that always bleeds) by handpulledsilver - yes this is another ink fic and yes it makes me rot. angst galore theyre exes but they dont go back to being lovers. artist keefe sencen though so i think that makes up for it. also conan gray ref in the title?? bonus points for that

Có nhớ tôi không? by celestiials (@theogony) - this one’s like. keefe and tam are rivals in the music world then they become roommates to work on a project together (oh my god they were roommates…) and to no one’s surprise they fall in love !! i LOVE this fic also shoutout to aru’s coding skills bc they slayed the creators style thing i could never

Drama Club by kingkrakie - kam band au HELLO??? author was after my own heart fr PLUS it’s given inspired and if you haven’t seen the anime then. that doesn’t mean much but either way i LOVED this fic very wholesome very adorable i need fluff in my life i am a simple man

the string connecting us by @that-glasses-dog - okay if there’s anything i love more than band aus it’s soulmate aus. red string of fate first meetings and at fucking exillium too hello??? im being very normal over this fic i love reading it every single time i see it pop up in the keefe/tam tag akshdgdsks

and uh. that’s kinda it for now? i WISH i had more recs but unfortunately there is a finite number of kam fics in this fandom (well. on ao3 i assume wattpad has more but i don’t Go There) but i’m hoping these will be enough to hold you over for now !! worst case scenario you’re welcome to try my ao3 and see if anything catches your fancy i’ve written a few kam fics myself but as of now. i hope you enjoy these as much as i did they’re all bangers !!

(oh for the record if anyone has anything they’d like to add or any recs at all please share i’m begging i need good kam fics too ajshsgsisks)

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #keefe sencen #tam song #keefe x tam #asks

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melancholiepeufiable · 1 year ago

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hello!

i know it's been some time since the final renaissance update, but it impacted me a lot and i needed to collect my thoughts,, so, sorry if this is a very late contribution to the debate. also obligatory warning that i am not a native speaker so my explanations might be a little wonky at times hahshd

to say it plainly: i sobbed, i laughed, i trembled and i melted with this fic. it had the perfect dose of everything; of pain, doubts, things being broken and then fixed with enough love and understanding that it reeked through the screen into my feelings as well. and you got my heart racing with every update!! my week revolved around your scheduled updates, however crazy that sounds.

like you said, it was cathartic. and painful. god, my heart ached so much every single time charles doubted himself and seb's view on him, and it ached when he longed for something as human as love with such resentment towards himself. but in the end, your brilliant writing soothed me like - pardon my perhaps nonsensical comparisons - those rays of sunlight in winter, when you've been freezing outside and they hit the skin of your hands and for a moment you think, wow, there is something more to this than just suffering. your writing style evoked such vivid emotions in me i thought i might be one with charles, lol. i love it, love it, love it.

you helped me realise a lot about myself in the process of reading too - and again, i am sorry for this little oversharing, but you also helped me realise that just like charles found out in the end, getting help might be worth it, and i will be getting it. it probably seems insincere,, but yeah. i am being genuine. your take on daddy issues hurt in a way where you realise that, damn, this is too realistic and hits too close to home, unlike those glorified scenarios on certain social media. bravo.

while i'm here, i would also like to mention that i read your other works, rouge et blanc and act of god. the latter in particular made it hard to breathe at times - not in the anxiety way, but in the in-awe-thanks-to-the-genius-storytelling way. you have this skill of uniting the reader and the main character to the point where they think alike, and it was only in the end when i noticed the escalation of the obsessive elements, that's how immersed i was in seb's unreliable narration. bravo again. (also, the religious imagery? chef's fucking kiss good LORD)

i don't want to go into detail over specific scenes in renaissance because this would be even longer than it is, so i'm just gonna wrap it up by saying: please, if you can, keep creating!! i don't mean it as putting pressure on you, the thing i want to say is that your art is absolutely brilliant and loved, if you ever doubt it. thank you for creating this fic and i am soo looking forward to anything you create in the future!!

-diem

hi anon ❤️

dw about it being late! my own reply is late as well haha, sorry (also dw about the english, you’re perfectly fine).

aw shucks, thank you so much. it’s always so lovely to see how much a work can reach someone, and to hear how it is has affected you is simultaneously joyous and tear-jerking (sorry about the pain it caused).

ahhh i love love LOVE that comparison to the sunlight during winter. might be one of my favourite compliments ever! it’s always sooooo pleasing for a writer to know that the reader is experiencing things almost as if they were the character themselves. thank you!

getting help is absolutely nothing to be shameful of, and i’m so proud of you going to get it. i wish you the best ❤️ (thank you again! i didn’t want the father complex to be dramatised bc in reality, it’s a lot different than what’s shown on tv).

ahhh and you read the others??? thank you omg! haha, thank you for liking act of god sm, i’m so happy that the general consensus has been positive. i was so nervous to post it, but i’m glad the religious imagery and seb’s unreliability managed to get through to the reader.

yes!! i will keep creating as soon as i get out of the writer’s block. i’m so grateful for your message and the support. have a great day! all the love <3

#f1 rpf #sebchal #f1 fanfic #renaissance fic #my inbox

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nevvaraven · 2 years ago

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omg you watched oth ? I love that, please tell me all your favourite characters, plots, anything - I miss it 😭

Anon you sweet sweet beautiful soul thank you so much for asking I am about to become unbearable,

Top 5 Favourite characters:

Brooke Penelope Davis - The light of my life, my first true love, the woman I have aspired to be my entire life, she is my joker. Her entire storyline from the whole peyton/Lucas/Brooke triangle I was always and forever on her side, she was a class act, she always knew her worth and in being happy for her best friend and ex boyfriend she remains the classiest and most humble woman in TV history and no one deserves the happy ending she got with Julian and the twins, more than she does, and she invented girl bossing, she was a millionaire business owner before she was even 25 and she did it all herself. Female excellence.

Haley James Scott - the first mother to ever mother, she can honestly do no wrong in my eyes, tutor girl should’ve ruled the world (the only reason she’s not number 1 is because of the disaster that was season 2/Chris Keller debacle but we don’t like to talk about that) but yes Haley James Scott the woman that you are 🧎‍♀️

Quentin Fields - to this day I have never gotten over him, he had such a short time on the show and he made the biggest impact, his relationship with Jamie and the way things ended omg I’m tearing up even writing this but I miss him sm his character was one of the greats

Mouth McFadden - he is my sweetheart, i would burn the entire world for him, he is just the most wholesome character I’ve ever known and he just means everything to me

Skills - he was a ride or die kind of person and there isn’t a single scene he didn’t own, I love his character

(Special mention to Chris Keller cause his character in the later seasons was just 👏🏼👏🏼 he was hilarious and I miss him)

Favourite plot lines

Okay so I love the intense story lines sm and I enjoy the angst more than what is considered healthy so:

Dan and Keith - I’m such a sucker for siblings and this storyline, I still think it’s one of the greatest and devastating moments in TV History, the relationships with Karen and Lucas and the way Dan changed after season 9 and how he repented about what he’d done, and Keith 😭 I have never cried as hard as I did that day (you know what day I’m talking about anon babe you know.) The intensity and angst of this storyline and the way it ended, yeah it’s always going to be my favourite

Nannie Carrie - omg 9 year old me was terrified of this woman, the whole kidnapping plot, the chase scene, Haley kicking her ass every time it was immaculate -

Clay and Logan - I never saw it coming is the thing, I always just thought the relationship was so adorable at the start and then what it was revealed who he actually was 😧 it was a moment, and the relationship between Logan, Clay and Quinn afterwards 😭😭 it was so sweet I could die honestly.

Dan’s entire redemption ark - I have never hated and loved a character the way I did with him. The first half of the show I would’ve happily shot him myself but by the end ? No one has since done a redemption the way Dan Scott did. I loved him at the end and 9 year old me would’ve been appalled at how much I cried at his ending.

Nathan’s kidnapping - this storyline. Omg this storyline, I went through every emotion going, the Naley feels, the genuine fear I had over my TV husband being in danger, the way it set up the Dan Scott Redemption, that scene where Haley has to go identify a body and then the scene where they reunite in the hospital, 🤚I sobbed, I still sob, I can’t listen to the Florence and the machine without getting emotional to this day.

Honestly Anon my sweets I very rarely find other OTH enthusiasts so this was a great moment and I could babble about this show forever, seriously this was like the top of the iceberg, it will always be my favourite, forehead kissing you rn because I just had a lot of fun writing that all out and now I need to go re watch it all !

#Oth #one tree hill #this show makes me insane

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project1939 · 10 months ago

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100 Films of 1952

Film number 93: Umberto D.

Release date: January 20th, 1952.

Studio: Dear Films

Genre: Foreign/drama

Director: Vittorio De Sica

Producer: Rizzoli, De Sica, Amato

Actors: Carlo Battisti, Maria Pia Casilio, Lina Gennari, Ileana Simova

Plot Summary: Umberto is a pensioner living in poverty in Rome with his only companion, a little dog named Flicke. When his heartless landlady says she will evict him, he tries desperately to raise funds to pay back his debt. Terrified of being homeless, he sees suicide as the only way out... But what would happen to Flicke?

My Rating (out of five stars): *****

Oh my gawd! I saw this film years ago in school, and I even went out and bought the DVD because it moved me so much. I had not seen it in years, however, and I was not prepared for how deeply it hit me tonight! I need some recovery time. It’s a film filled with anxiety and despair... it’ll rip your heart out... and if you love animals, get ready to sob! The pain is ultimately worth it though, just to experience a masterpiece of Italian Neo-Realism. (Spoilers!)

The Good:

Carlo Battisti as Umberto. It is astounding to me that Battisti was not a professional actor. His face communicates so much, you would think he was a master thespian. It’s impossible not to be moved by his performance here. The close-ups of his face in the climax of the film are so haunting, I was in tears.

Maria-Pia Casilio as the maid. I loved both the character and the actress. She was the one person who treated Umberto with real humanity and empathy. She also had a very expressive face, which was highly effective emotionally.

Flicke! Flicke! The amazing dog Flicke. Flicke is one of the most moving animal portrayals in film history, and the actual dog who played him was perfect.

The use of faces. De Sica is a master when it comes to choosing interesting expressive faces and framing them in dramatic ways. Dialogue is barely needed- the eyes and the expressions on the characters' faces do all the work.

This is a simple story told without overly sappy melodrama. Like The Bicycle Thieves, this proves that focusing on a small but important moment in the life of an unremarkable person can be more emotionally stirring than any Hollywood weepie.

The film is incredibly effective at manipulating your emotions and getting you to invest in the characters.

This is a “show not tell” film in all the best ways.

The music. It unquestionably heightens the drama and emotion. It’s beautiful.

The cinematography. De Sica is extremely skilled at knowing where to place the camera. It’s not only the way he films faces, but also the framing of medium and long shots. The shot composition intensifies the mood and emotion of each scene.

The maid's story. She was a poor unmarried pregnant girl. Being pregnant and unmarried was enough of a social stigma, but she’s not even sure who the father is- two different men might be. Instead of painting her as a whore, though, both Umberto and the film itself view her in a sympathetic light. This was hugely surprising and would never fly in Hollywood at that time.

The ending. Although the final third of the movie is Umberto trying to figure out how to kill himself, the film ends on a brilliant bittersweet note. Flicke runs away from him when he tries to kill them both by standing in front of a train. To win Flicke’s trust back, Umberto begins to play with him. Suddenly we see genuine joy on Umberto’s face as he lives fully in the moment with his dog. His face lights up in a smile- at least for a few moments he finds relief from his anguish.

The relationship between Umberto and Flicke. I defy you to find a movie that portrays the bond between a pet and its owner more movingly than this! For Umberto, Flicke is literally everything- his companion, his reason for living, and the thing that brings him the most joy. Flicke is clearly just as attached to Umberto, refusing to ever leave him. Hand me another Kleenex, please!

The Bad:

Is there anything? I wish it weren’t as bleak, maybe. But that would make it less effective, I’m sure.

It makes my heart hurt and my anxiety about growing old increase! But, again, this is because the film is so damn good!

#project1952 #1952 movies #100 films of 1952 #200 films of 1952 #200 films of 1952 film 93

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darklordofthesimp · 3 years ago

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Conceal (Din Djarin x Reader)

Din is skilled at masking his injuries, that's why he'd always discover yours.

Requested by: @munted-llama: #15 and #17 15: I heard you talking in your sleep. 17: Why didn't you tell me?

A/N: One of my favorite angsty/fluff tropes.

Category: Angst and eventual fluff.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury, blood.

Your eyes stung from sweat, forcing them tightly shut. You didn't want to open them anyway, there was nothing to see. No pretty sights, no galactic view- just the worn metal of the Razor Crest roof.

"Dank farrik," you hissed beneath your breath. You couldn't tell if it was unreasonably hot in your coffin-in-the-wall chamber, or if your blood was running like lava. Your thigh pulsed beneath the sheet, as if in response.

You weren't a medic by any means but it didn't take one to come to the conclusion that you were in trouble. You most definitely had a fever and that leg was unquestionably infected.

You groaned, voice low and strained. Reminding yourself that the pilot was nearby, you bit your lip. If he found out...

He would kill you himself, undoubtedly. The Mandalorian had asked if you were injured and you had replied by simply waving him off. You hadn't paid attention to the way he stared, or how his gaze followed you even when you turned away.

You had been distracted by the gaping knife wound in your thigh.

Forcing your head back onto the hard pillow, you loosed a breath. You needed to rest, you had little faith that it would be better by morning but it was worth a shot.

Focusing on evening out your breathing, you didn't fight the call to a restless sleep.

You had been taken back a few hours into the past, standing on the same ridge scouting your bounty. Or, realistically, Mando's bounty. The man in question was beside you, eyes on target and finger on trigger. Ready to pull the second he was provided a clear shot.

You knew what was coming, you knew that there was someone behind you. Another bounty hunter, wanting the reward for himself. You couldn't turn, you couldn't pull your gaze from that damned bounty.

"Mando!"

You could hear yourself screaming but you knew that your mouth remained shut. Their footsteps were so loud, how could neither of you have noticed?

How could your hunter not have heard him?

Or had he?

Had he hoped someone would take you out for him, save him the trouble and the guilt of his betrayal?

"Mando! Mando please!"

This time, in this universe, the Mandalorian turned.

This time, he did nothing.

Nothing as the knife was thrown and nothing as it had embedded itself into your thigh.

This time, he had seen you get hurt.

And he had done nothing.

"Please," you were sobbing now, and still your mouth remained shut. Distantly, you knew this was a nightmare, this had already happened. He had saved you in that time, that reality.

But to watch him allow it now, to stand back and watch you writhe in pain. To watch you beg.

It hurt more than the knife wound, more than anything had ever hurt before.

"Din, please don't do this. Don't leave me," you moaned, your thigh burning as though enveloped in flames. Your vision was fading and this time you were glad for it. You were in so much pain, you had been left to die and you weren't one to disappoint.

You allowed your eyes to flutter shut, leaning into the call of the dark awaiting you.

"I'm here," the words were distant. "I'm right here, open your eyes."

Hands were on your shoulders, rattling you from a fitful sleep. You were drenched in your own sweat, body trembling from the cold and you cringed.

"You need to open your eyes."

As if on command, they shot open. The ceiling spun, clockwise then the opposite. Your breathing was haggard and you weren't sure whether it was sweat or tears running down your cheeks.

"Good, you're doing good. Keep them open."

Your breath caught at the sound of the voice, his voice. You turn your head weakly, mouth parting at the sight.

The Mandalorian stood over you, one hand resting on your shoulder and the other clenched at his side. He was silent as his gaze ran down the length of your body.

"Mando?" Your voice was cracked and soft, but you might as well have yelled it with the way his visor snapped towards your face. You watched his shoulders become deathly still and he shook his head lightly.

"I heard you talking in your sleep," he said, hesitation clear in his voice.

"So you just opened the door and grabbed me?" You tried to laugh, to make light of the situation. He snatched his hand from your shoulder immediately, straightening up. Your words were a dry rasp and you wet your lips as you continued. "You could at least take me to dinner first-"

Mando grabbed the thin, damp sheet covering your body and ripped it away. Cool air embraced your body and you were suddenly aware of how hot you were. Right, you scowled, the infection.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His hand was outstretched, gesturing towards the clotting wound on your bare thigh. It smelt pungent and your stomach immediately turned violent.

Swallowing bile, your eyes began to water.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, casting your gaze downward. "I didn't want to burden you. Or make you think I was incapable."

"It would burden me if you were dead!" Din snapped, pulling the blanket from the chamber entirely and dumping it on the floor of the cargo bay.

"I'm sorry," you said again, taken aback by the blatant declaration. He ignored you entirely, turning back to face you with resolute shoulders. Reaching into your den, he leans over you to position his hands around your body.

Wood, spice, and smoke enveloped your senses. Distantly, you realized this is the first time you've been close enough to him to actually smell him.

And you were drenched in sweat and blood. And infection. And pus.

You gagged.

Din pulled you into him with ease, careful not to jostle the wound as best as he could. The air of the cargo hold was freezing, despite the sweat continuing to trickle down your spine.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, lolling your head against the cool plate of his chest.

"Keep your eyes open for me," is the strained response. You could hear the fast beat of his heart beneath the beskar. It was racing at such a pace that it made you dizzy to listen to it.

"I'm so sorry, Din," you rasped as he lay you down on his armory bench. You hadn't even noticed him clear it of all the miscellaneous items scattered across the surface.

In a blink of an eye he was armed with a damp rag and bacta spray.

"It's okay," he said softly. You're unsure if he's talking to you or himself at this point. "You're going to be okay."

He was right, the medicated spray had already begun to work wonders. It wouldn't be long before you were coherent enough to have to give him an explanation. To have to look him dead on and tell him why you had almost unwittingly killed yourself.

You sighed in relief, your thigh had gone numb and the room temperature was starting to settle.

Din was quiet as he continued to clean the blood and pus off of your skin, working carefully around the bacta.

"You would have been dead by morning," was all he said, his voice was grim and quiet. He avoided eye contact and kept his helmet angled towards your wound stubbornly.

"I know," you sighed. "I was being stupid."

"Don't ever hide an injury from me again," he finally turned to look at you, fingers resting against your thigh. "This could have been avoided."

You opted not to say anything. What was there to be said? You had already apologized and any explanation you had to offer would only embarrass you. Now that the pain had settled, humiliation rose in it's stead.

You almost wish you had just passed on, rather than have him tend to your wound over something so damn stupid. You lay your head back, forcing the tears back as best as you could. It would only make it worse if you cried.

You had almost died. If Mando hadn't busted into your chamber, you would have been gone.

A cool, gloved hand came to rest on your cheek and you jolted in suprise. With wide, teary eyes, you stared up at the Mandalorian who stood over the table by your head. You hadn't even noticed him move.

"I'm glad you're okay," Din said softly and your heart skipped a cycle entirely. "Never again, Cyar'ika."

You nodded your mindless agreement, breathless. "Never again."

#The mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #baby yoda #grogu

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whorkn33 · 2 years ago

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Lonely Kids

genre: Hinata Hajime/Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Smut words: 6,496 warnings: GN!Reader, brief mentions of SA, general talk of loneliness/trauma, Nipple Play, Pet Names, minors DNI summary: Hinata Hajime is the most talented man on the planet. He’s stronger, faster, and smarter than anyone else. And he puts up with you. And that’s fascinating. art credit: zakiko

Lonely kids tend to stick together. Whether they’re lonely because they’re a latchkey kid, or because they move around a lot and never get the chance to make any friends, or if the rest of the children their age have just decided they’re weird and not worth their time. No matter the reason, they flock to one another like birds. To keep each other company during lunch and recess. To make the loneliness a little bit more bearable.

Hinata does a lot around the island. Some weird sense of responsibility, you think. Maybe because he’s the most capable out of all of you, or maybe to make up for time he lost during the tragedy. But it was him who worked so hard to wake everyone up. It was him who fixed the air purifiers whenever they went haywire. It was him who worked some kind of magic in the kitchen whenever Hanamura was too sick to cook for everyone.

It’s hard to feel useful when you’re standing next to the most talented guy on the planet.

When you woke up, you were panicked. Still reeling from an untimely death in the program, your hands had flown up, teeth bared, ready to fight, to attack, as if you could fight off the grim reaper before he came for you. Instead, you were met with warmth. A strong grip. Arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest and shushing you. You had squirmed, frantic, still trying to both attack and scramble away, but he held you against him. Didn’t flinch when your nails dug into his skin and you called him a number of unspeakable names. He waited until you paused for breath to murmur to you, softly, calmly, but entirely himself and nobody else; “It’s over. You’re safe.”

You had broken down and sobbed then, and he was there. He understood. You figure that’s when your little crush must have begun. Your memories of the tragedy are fuzzy, but any feelings held for Izuru Kamukura were not held for Hajime Hinata. That much, you were sure of.

Your memories of Kamukura were fleeting. A sense of intimidation, of fear that swelled in your chest and pinned you in place. Red eyes, nearly glowing in the dim light. The knowledge that one wrong move around him could end in him killing you. You wanting him to kill you. Wanting to taste that despair. To chase after Enoshima, greet her on Hell’s throne so you could be of better use to her there.

The thought makes your stomach churn.

Hinata was completely different in every way. He held warmth and comfort. Though at first you were wary, still aware of his raw strength and skill, he never gave you any reason to fear him the way you feared Kamukura. His brown eye would meet your gaze and crinkle as he smiles at you, greeting you softly. Careful not to speak too loudly, aware that you hated the way your voice once echoes off of ruined buildings. He kept his distance, allowed you to be the one who stepped closer. Never asked anything of you. Instead, he would patiently wait until you offered. Eager to please him. To make him smile again so you could see his eyes crinkle again.

You weren’t the only one he treated this way. Everyone else, as they awoke one by one, got much the same treatment. Took up more and more of his attention. He made it seem so effortless, nudging you all in the right direction. Towards hope, you guess.

You like keeping him company. You hand him tools and help dry the dishes he scrubs. It makes you feel useful, standing next to the most talented guy on the planet while he hands you a wet plate for you to wipe the water off of.

When he’s not working, which doesn’t happen often, he likes tinkering, you’ve noticed. He’ll mess with old cell phones and televisions that have long since stopped working. Seeing if he could get them up and running again. He once got a radio to blast static from its speaker, an amazing feat considering how damaged it was. He had laughed in triumph, but his shoulders slumped as he realized it was ultimately useless. There were no radio towers close enough to the island for this to do anything other than fill the air with shrill static. He discarded it, forgetting it in a pile of abandoned projects. You took it back to your cottage that night, allowing the white noise to fill the room. It helped you drift off to sleep easier, you think.

Recently, Naegi brought him an old arcade cabinet to work on. The glances you shared with Kuzuryu and Imposter told you that you weren’t imagining the irony and insensitivity of such a gift, but Hinata just smiled and took it, thanking Naegi for bringing him something new to play with. The grin on Naegi’s face told you that any hard feelings, if they were present at all, were entirely lost on him.

If the machine stirs up any feelings in Hinata, he doesn’t show it clearly. That’s something you find fascinating about him. How well he hides his feelings. He’s said that he struggles with feelings ever since the tragedy, but you’ve seen genuine smiles from him. You’ve seen real joy and real sorrow in those eyes. He feels, it’s just… different now.

You hand him a screwdriver and he murmurs a ‘thank you’ under his breath. The warehouse is warm and muggy, the humidity of the island condensing in the metal walls. The sun was starting to set, making the world outside a nice orange color. His shirt is unbuttoned, tie removed and cast aside to help him cool off. You watch the movement of his muscles under his tan skin. Humans are such complex machines, every muscle working in tandem to create a functional person who walks and talks and eats and breathes. You never found it so fascinating before watching Hinata work.

He extends his hand to you, palm up, and you hand him a wrench. He glances at it, before correcting you. “Philip’s head, please.” His smile tells you he isn’t upset, but even still, you find yourself embarrassed for inconveniencing him. You hand him the Philip’s Head screwdriver and watch as he returns to meticulously unscrewing the tiniest screws you’ve ever seen. He puts so much care into every movement, careful not to scratch the metal as he works.

“Hinata…” Your voice comes out just above a whisper, as if disturbing the silence between you two will get you in trouble. He hums in acknowledgement, waiting for you to continue. Picking at your fingertips, you bring your knees to your chest. “Uh… do you like… playing games?”

“Yeah,” He replies, not taking his eyes off the wires and panels before him. “I really liked playing this one fighting game, before everything. I didn’t always have someone to play it with, though. Online matches with strangers just aren’t the same.”

“I get that.” Nodding softly, the anxious picking ceases. “I used to play computer games when I was a kid. I had this wizard game where you could choose your house and what kind of magic you used… but I never played it for long because it wasn’t as cool, playing all alone.”

“Lonely kids end up in their own head a lot.” He muses, removing a panel from the inside of the machine and setting aside with all its screws. “Nobody is around to hear their ideas, so they end up internalizing it. They call us daydreamers because we spend so much time off in our own little worlds, where we’ve got all these made up people that listen to us talk about our hobbies. They poke fun at us, without realizing that if they would just talk to us a little, we would start daydreaming a little less.”

Unsure of what to say, you hum softly. Acknowledging he’s been heard without providing anything meaningful. Handing him tools while having no clue what he’s doing, how he’s fixing this thing, if he’s fixing it at all.

“That’s what you do, right?” Finally, his eyes raise to you. Glistening in the setting sunlight, heterochromatic irises bore into your soul like he can see through you. It’s exposing. But not unsafe. “You’re always so holed up in your head. Even I struggle to figure out what you’re thinking a lot of the time.”

“I think lots of things.” You shrug. “I don’t get what’s so important about my thoughts.”

And he laughs. Not a mocking sound, but one of disbelief. “How could you not get it?” He asks as he calms his breath. “They’re important because they’re what make you, you. Learning how you think helps me understand you better.”

“There’s nothing to understand.” Your head tilts. “I’m nobody important. I never have been. But you? You’re the most talented person to ever exist. You could bring this world to its knees - and you have, only to help it stand back up again. And you let me watch you do things like this. Something so simple and so complex. Something so mundane and so fascinating. You could throw me into the ocean and I would watch with stars in my eyes, Hinata.”

Maybe you’re being weird. Maybe you’re not making sense. Because the look he’s giving you is one you can’t describe. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open. It lasts only a split second before he chuckles, looks away, focusing back on the machine before him. “Oh, stop. You’ll make me blush.”

You do as told. You were definitely being weird, but something told you it was not necessarily a bad thing.

The next morning, you are alone on dish duty. Usually, when you have a chore, Hinata uses that time to start on other tasks, and when you’re done you hunt him down so you can watch quietly. Today, however, Hinata did not come to breakfast. This concerns you. He’s smarter than to skip meals in the pursuit of productivity. When the last plate is on the drying rack and you have nothing more to do, you go to his cottage. If he isn’t coming to breakfast, then he might have slept in. It’s unlike him, but with how thin he spreads himself at times, it wouldn’t surprise you.

Knocking on his cottage door, you hear some shuffling before it’s pulled open a crack, Hinata’s face peeking out. His tired eyes take a moment to focus on you. “Oh. Hey. I was wondering if you’d drop by.” His voice is thick with sleep and congestion. You feel the frown settle on your face. “You’re sick.”

“Yep. Woke up with a fever. Mikan said I should just stay in bed, and she’ll be by to check up on it later.”

“Have you eaten?” Your head tilts, eyes narrowing at him. He shifts slightly, leaning against the door frame. “Not yet, no. I’m really not hungry, so I put it off.”

“It’s almost eleven in the morning!” You exclaim, attempting to push past him, but it’s kinda like pushing against a wall. He watches as you struggle for a moment, then quietly sigh. “Would you please let me in?” You ask, your voice even softer than usual.

“There you go.” Hinata steps back, allowing you to walk into his cottage. It’s the same layout as yours and everyone else’s. Exactly what you would expect. Grabbing him by the arm, you yank as hard as you can towards the bed. Maybe it’s just him taking pity on you, but he lets you drag him over and shove him down, dragging the blanket over him with a mildly amused smile on his face. When you step back, he looks up at you with a chuckle. “Having fun?”

“Stay in bed. I’ll go get you some rice.” You huff softly, frustrated at his almost sarcastic tone, but the shift in his expression startles you. You’ve seen that before. When he failed to wake Komaeda for the third time. When he found Imposter’s body under a table. As Izuru Kamukura stared down at Chiaki Nanami.

That’s real sorrow.

“I’ll wait here.” He replies, as if he has no problem with you leaving. As if he’s perfectly fine with it.

He could be tricking you. Manipulating you into… something. He’s got every talent locked away up there in that head of his.

But he’s never once given you a reason not to trust him. Even if it goes against what comes out of his mouth, you trust him.

“I guess… I can stay a while. See if you get hungry later.” You shrug, moving towards his cottage door and closing it. “It’d be better if someone was here to keep an eye on you, anyway.”

He doesn’t suddenly perk up. It’s more like he relaxes, resting fully in his bed and letting his eyes drift shut with a sigh. “If that’s what you want.” He mumbles, tiredness clear in his voice. Picking at your fingertips, you move over to sit on the edge of his bed, staring at his face.

Hajime Hinata is not the same boy you met on that artificial beach. That Hinata was a lost, confused, awkward boy who constantly looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Not that you blamed him, necessarily. But he put aside his anxieties when he realized he had to step up. When he realized that with ‘Togami’ gone, there was nobody to band everyone together. To point to the future and demand you all move towards it.

As he lays before you miserably, though, you consider all of your time with him outside of the program. He’s always been calm, warm, inviting. A comforting presence that made you feel like no matter how dicey things got, there was still a future to look forward to. Like he would never let anything bad happen to you, not as long as he was around to get in its way.

It makes you wonder how much of that is real. How much of his encouragement is meant for himself just as much as it is for everyone else? Before your death in the program, even though Hinata stepped up to take the lead, he still held this nervous air about him. He wasn’t made of steel. Nothing could make watching your friends drop like flies any easier.

Nothing could make the consequences of your actions any easier. That rang true for him, too, you realized. You feel silly for depending on him blindly for so long, as if he was some untouchable god who couldn’t be harmed. The man you revered, the man you once wished to high heavens would grant you the honor of choking the life from your body, is now laying in bed with a slight fever and probably a tummy ache.

“Thinking anything important?” His voice, soft and gravelly and thick with sickness, pulls you from your train of thought. You consider how you should respond for a moment. He’s asking because he wants to know. Is that right?

“I’m thinking about you.” You reply simply. His eyebrow raises, soft laughter rising from him. “Why?” He asks. Like there’s no reason for anyone to be thinking of him. No good reason, at least.

“Because you’re nice to think about.” You tell him. “Some things are difficult and unpleasant to think about. But not you.”

And he winces. And it hurts. Because that means he doesn’t believe you.

“I don’t see why.” His eyes flicker across the room, to nothing in particular. Refusing to make eye contact to make the interaction less vulnerable. “Like you said. I played a large hand in bringing the world to its knees. You saw me do it. You were miserable in all that destruction, and I’ve seen how my actions have haunted you.” Shifting slightly under his covers, now fully turning his head away from you. Even facing you is too much. “How could any of that be pleasant to think about?”

You give him a moment. A small pause, a moment of still air so he can find comfort for a bit. Vulnerability is hard. It only gets harder when you’ve been taken advantage of. You need to let him know that vulnerability is safe now. You need to say and do the right things so he knows that whenever he’s wearing thin, he can let his guard down around you, at the very least.

“That is not you.” You break the silence, voice quiet, but firm. “That was who they made you to be. And the moment you woke back up, and saw everything you had done, the first thing you did was try to fix it.”

He hums. A small, displeased noise from his throat. “I still did it. It’s the same face. Same body. Same hands. What’s it matter if my brain was stirred up or not?”

This time when you pause, it’s to think. Think, think, think. What would Hinata say to you, if it were you in this position right now?

“If a person who had too much to drink is offered sex by a sober person, and they accept, only to feel as though it were a mistake the next morning, what is that?” You ask. Hinata’s eyes widen slightly, a light pink blush rising to his cheeks at the bluntness of your phrasing. He clears his throat. “That’s… they were taken advantage of. The sober person took advantage of them when they were vulnerable.”

“That’s right.” You nod. “And when a pop star takes a teenage fan backstage, telling her how mature she is for her age. You know what that is, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

“Do you see the point I’m trying to make, Hinata?” You scoot closer to him, reaching out a hand to rest it on his shoulder. “You were not in your right state of mind when you made those decisions. Yes, you still made them. And now you have to deal with the consequences. But when it comes down to it, from every angle you could possibly look at it, you were taken advantage of.”

He curls in on himself, pulling his shoulder away from your palm. Silent. Uncomfortable. Far, far too vulnerable. Fuck. You said the wrong thing, didn’t you? You made it worse. How can you make him less vulnerable? That’s what he needs. He’s already in his bed, under his blankets… this should be a safe space for him. Maybe it’s amplified because he’s not feeling well? If you can’t make him feel any less vulnerable, there has to be something. Maybe if you make yourself more vulnerable, so that in comparison, he feels less exposed?

Exposed. That’s it.

Having settled in your train of thought, you reach up and tug your shirt off over your head, letting it drop to the floor next to the bed. That gets Hinata’s attention. His face lights up a bright shade of red, his eyes immediately focused on your forehead and nothing but your forehead. “W-what are you doing?!” He nearly squeaks, a sound you haven’t heard from him before. It’s cute. You can’t help but giggle as you stand, fiddling with the button of your pants. “I’m being vulnerable!” You reply, as if that answered any of his actual questions.

Your pants drop to the floor, leaving you in your underwear before him. He splutters, finally sitting up. “Why are you undressing?! That’s… that’s really not necessary!”

“I’m vulnerable.” You repeat, turning to face him. The air in the cottage is cold and you feel the instinct to wrap your arms around yourself, to hide behind your hands, but you don’t grant yourself the option. This is about him. Not you. “So you don’t need to hide. I’m naked, and I’m not hiding.”

“Th-that’s… not how this works.” He sighs, scooting off the bed and standing up, taking the blanket with him. Lifting it up, he wraps it around your shoulders, cloaking your body in its warmth. “Sometimes people just… feel bad. And you need to let them feel that way. They need to process those emotions, and it’s a lot easier when someone is there.”

He meets your eyes, at long last, and suddenly you feel silly.

“I’ve never… done this before.” You breathe. “I’m trying to do it right. I’m sorry that I’m not good at it yet.”

“I know,” He sighs, but his lips twitch up into a soft smile. “But you’re doing your best. And I really do appreciate it.”

Licking your lips, searching for the right words. Something, something needs to come out. Something needs to be said. To fill the silence. To ease your mind. “I… um…” He waits, patiently. Lets you rack your brain and fumble with the words, trying to slot them together, desperate to form a sentence. “I… want… uh, you.” You manage finally. His eyebrows raise as your cheeks grow warmer. “I-I mean, um. I want. To be with you. To be there for you.”

And he laughs. And it’s good.

“You’re always there for me.” He says in between breaths. “There’s hardly a moment I spend without you.” A brief pause. A hand on the back of his neck. “That’s not a bad thing, by the way.”

You stare at his face. This is Hajime Hinata. The most talented man on the planet. And right now, you finally feel like you truly stand next to him as his equal.

“Hajime,” You mumble. His eyes gleam, his smile growing. The late morning sun from the window bounces off his cheek. You swallow hard. “I want… um…” Searching. Searching. The words won’t form, they won’t slot together, not easily anyway. He sees your growing frustration and grants you a reprieve. “If you can’t find the words, can you show me?” He asks.

Words are not your strong suit. But actions speak much, much louder.

He’s granted you permission. You step forward, closer to him, raising your hands to the back of his head to cradle it. His soft hair between your fingers. He tilts his head down to watch your expression as you tug him closer. His skin is warm under your hand. His lips part and the tiniest puff of air leaves them as he catches on. You let the moment sit, giving him the chance to pull back, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, catching you off guard as your lips connect a second before you expected them to.

His lips are soft and warm. He tastes like honey and comfort. He smells like cotton balls and summer evenings. Like golden hour, when the sun bathes the world in an orange hue. He’s gentle with you, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you closer. The blanket falls, and you are safe. There is no reason to hide.

He’s the first one to pull back, breathing deeply. You chase after him, rising to your tiptoes to capture his lips again. He grunts, but doesn’t push you off. His arms hold you tighter against him, his hand trailing down to your lower back and pressing his palm flat against the bare skin. You tilt your head as the kiss becomes more feverish, and it isn’t long before you feel his tongue press against your lower lip. You open your mouth, letting him in. Giving yourself over to him. He groans softly against you and a chill runs down your spine.

It’s you who makes the first move to take things further, pushing him backwards onto his bed. It’s then you know that this is something he wants. Had he been against the idea, your attempts at moving him would have been completely fruitless. That thought gives you the confidence to straddle his lap, caging him in with your thighs. In this position, it’s you who has to lean down in order to keep your mouths connected. Your hands move to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his soft skin. This time it’s you who pulls away, gasping for air, but you’re a bitch on a mission now.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt, he leans back and raises his arms so you can lift it over his head, discarding it across the room. You’ll pick it up later. For now, you need to be all over him. You need your actions to speak, because god knows you suck at it. You need him to know.

Leaning in again, you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, letting your tongue drag along his sun kissed skin. You touch your teeth to his pulse point and he tenses underneath you, which you take as your cue to bite down. He groans, hand on your lower back sliding down further to squeeze your ass. You let out a huff of air against his neck before traveling downwards, biting and kissing and pausing on one spot in particular to suck at the soft skin until a purple-ish bruise has formed beneath your lips. Mark him. Everyone should know he’s vulnerable to you right now. If you could, you’d announce it to every single person on the planet.

You travel lower, lips grazing the skin of his bare chest, planting kisses and looking up at his red, focused face through your eyelashes. He has a big chest, soft and squishy under your mouth. He finally moans as you take his left nipple into your mouth, flicking your tongue over it. He’s so warm, so soft. Like putty in your hands. Er, mouth. No, don’t think about how gross having putty in your mouth would be. Focus.

You lift your right hand to his opposite pec, squeezing the soft flesh in your palm. Hinata breathes heavily, each puff of air coming out shaky, staring down at you with hazy eyes. You pinch his nipple between your thumb and index finger while sucking hard on his other one, and his voice jumps in volume, his hands coming to rest on your hips and squeeze the skin there. “Th-that’s-” He swallows, cut off by a groan as you suck again. “That’s- so good. You’re so good. Oh, sweetheart…” He murmurs the pet name and it sends a wave of electricity through your body, moaning softly against his tit before popping off, looking up at him with a bit of drool falling from your lips. You can feel how hard he is through his pajama pants, and you grind down against him, watching him toss his head back as he grips your hips tighter.

A sharp inhale through his teeth, and the next thing you know you’re on your back. He hovers over you, knee planted in the mattress between your thighs, hands at either side of your head. For a moment, he doesn’t move, eyes searching your face. Waiting. A question without speaking a single word. Is this okay?

Of course it’s okay. Because it’s you.

His lips meet yours again, feverish and almost desperate. His leg rises until his thigh is pressed firmly into your groin, shifting his hips to give you a bit of friction. You whine into his mouth and buck your hips upwards, into his leg, and in return he presses it against you even further. Meanwhile, his lips shift from your mouth to your cheek, down to your neck. You turn your head to give him room while he nips and sucks at the skin, making you squirm beneath him. He slides his hands under your back to hold you closer as he sucks a mark on the side of your neck, just as you did with him a moment ago. The two of you find a rhythm, you raising your hips as he presses his thigh into you, repeating the motion until you’re physically shaking, pawing desperately at his shoulders as a whine drags out of you.

He sits up a bit, heterochromatic eyes meeting yours with mischief behind them. “What is it, baby?” He asks, feigning innocence. You huff, wiggling your hands between your bodys to tug the waistband of your underwear down. Well, as far down as you can get it. Hinata’s leg is still in the way, and he doesn’t seem to have any intention of moving. You glare up at him and he chuckles. “What? Why are you frustrated?” Removing one hand from below you, he brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “You’ve gotta learn to talk to me, precious.”

“I-I…” Licking your dry lips. Think. Think. “I-I want… I need…” Searching. He’s being so patient with you, still meeting the motion of your hips and still hanging off every sound that leaves your lips. You whimper. “Hajime, I need you. Pretty please, sweetpea?”

“Sweet-” He chokes on the word, eyelids fluttering briefly before, quick as a flash, your underwear and his pajama pants have both been discarded. His cock, finally free from its confinement, feels blazing hot as he rubs it against your sex, hands grabbing your hips and lifting them up off the bed with little effort. You watch the head pop up over the curve of your belly and moan, spreading your legs further for him. He pulls back and you can feel the tip against your entrance, pausing there, hesitant. He casts one last glance up to your face, searching for permission, but he doesn’t need to look hard in order to find it.

He’s thick. He moves slowly to ease you into the stretch, but god nothing could prepare you for how full he was making you. You lift a hand to bite down on your knuckle, squeezing your eyes shut while you try to force yourself to relax. He removes one hand from your hip to cradle your cheek, shushing you. “I know, I know. Just a bit more. You can take it, can’t you, precious?”

You let out a soft whine at the pet name, nodding your head as you drag your eyes open to look up at him. He’s watching you with such focus, monitoring your breathing patterns to ensure he isn’t hurting you. A bit more pushing and his thumb brushes over your lower lip. “It’s all in, baby. Let me know when I can move.”

“Mm-hmm��” You hum in response, trying to keep your breathing steady while your body adjusted. You feel full to the brim, like any more and you would burst like a water balloon. He’s inside you. Hinata’s really inside you. He’s sharing this moment with you when he could be doing anything else. Like resting, since he had a fever. Shit. Should he be participating in something like this if he’s sick?

A moment later and you finally start to relax, breathing a soft sigh as the tension releases from your body and the discomfort starts to fade. You lower your hand from your mouth to hold onto the bed sheets, looking up to meet eyes with Hinata. He nods once and slowly pulls his hips back, groaning as he feels out every inch of you. You arch your back as he pushes back in, still struggling to comprehend how far he stretches you. He’s so, so warm and the sounds he’s making as he drags himself back again are driving you wild.

He’s moving so slow. Being so gentle. He leans over and plants kisses on your neck and chest, groaning against your skin, making your head feel light. Words are suddenly even harder to come by, but you’re certainly trying, afraid that if you don’t he’ll stop. “H-haaaa… Hajimeee…” You drag out his name, clinging to the last syllable like it’s your lifeline. Breathing hard, he lifts his head to look at you with a questioning hum. Find the words. Say something. “M… more, Hajime…”

His eyes widen, pupils dilating. His grip on your hip tightens and he swallows hard. “S… say again..?” He mumbles, as though he hadn’t heard you the first time. You know he did. He just wants to hear it again.

“M-more. More, sweetpea.” You repeat, throwing in the nickname he seemed to love so much. That’s what gets him to finally let loose, a groan escaping him as he buries his head in the crook of your neck and starts pounding into you. His pace is relentless, and he reaches so deeply inside of you that you’re starting to wonder how you ever managed to get off with just your fingers. Nothing could compare to this. Nothing could compare to him.

The most talented man on the planet has his cock inside of you. Hajime Hinata is fucking you into his bedsheets, he’s moaning and groaning into your ear while you squirm and cry underneath him. He’s not being rough, he’s not hurting you, and it feels so, so good. If the version of you from a year or two ago could see you now, they would call you an idiot and a coward for leaving yourself so open for him. They would cackle and wait to see your throat slit.

God, would that version of you be jealous.

“Haji- me-” You gasp, releasing his bedsheets to drag your nails down his back. He groans, his speed picking up just a bit. Lifts his head just a bit, just enough to get the words out. “W-what- fuck- what is it?”

“Boobs,” You whimper. “Mouth. In.”

“... What?” His brow furrows, struggling to understand.

“I want your boobs.” You manage to get out. “I wanna suck your boobs.”

“My boobs?” He repeats, sounding flabbergasted at the idea. “Right now?”

You whine loudly, a frustrated sound, and he nods. “Okay, okay, here.” Readjusting, straightening his spine so his chest hovered over your face. You latch onto his right nipple, taking the soft bud into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it, feeling the muscles in his back tense at the feeling. His voice drops an octave when he moans, gripping his bedsheets for dear life. “O-oh, god, that’s- ah!” He cries out when you ever-so-gently bite down, arms beginning to shake as they support his weight.

He starts fucking you harder, his movements getting less precise, his chest heaving with every breath to the point where you had to time your little nibbles at his skin with his inhales so you could actually reach him. “Y-y-you’re so- you’re so good, fuck-” He mumbles, the praise making you suddenly aware of the pressure in your lower belly, the pool of heat that’s quickly reaching its boiling point. He swallows hard before he speaks again. “You’re m-mine, you’re so warm and- and precious, I-” You moan against his nipple and he tenses. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. I-I- you’re gonna make me cum like that…”

He almost sounds surprised, as if he wasn’t expecting it to actually happen, but that only encourages you. You bring a hand around to pinch his left nipple while you suck on his right, raising your legs to wrap them around him. His hips snap into you so roughly you can hear the slapping sound it’s creating echoing off the walls, and it sounds heavenly. He claws at the bedsheets, desperation growing in his voice. “You’re so good, you’re precious, I-I’m gonna…” He pants hard, whining when you pop your mouth off to give your neck a break, but seeming relieved when your other hand comes around to occupy his nipple in the meantime. He peers down at you from an odd angle and you tilt your head to meet his hazy eyes. “A-are you…?” He murmurs. You nod, your own heavy breathing doing nothing to soothe the raging fire in your abdomen. You were wound up so tightly, a spring about to snap. Hinata knows this. He shifts his hips just a bit and finds just the right spot, and seconds later every hair on your body stands on end as you come undone. Clenching hard around him, arching your back as shockwaves of white heat unspool and leave you trembling as you come down.

Hinata doesn’t let up as you’re cumming. He doesn’t even slow down. Even as you start whimpering from the overstimulation, he only pushes himself in deeper, a feat you had no clue was even possible. “Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay-” He soothes, threading his fingers through your hair. “You can take it, can’t you? My precious little bumblebee? My everything?”

Tears prick your eyes. They cascade down your cheeks. His everything? You nod.

“Good, good,” His breath hitches, “oh, sweetheart, you take me so well.” nudges one of your hands, still resting on his chest, encouraging you to touch him again. “I’m gonna cum for you. Is that what you want?”

You nod, rubbing your thumb over his nipple and whining softly. He tenses. “More of that, bumblebee, and I’ll cum for you. All for you.” Those words send a shiver down your spine and you pinch his nipple, moving your other hand to rub the opposite one. Hinata’s mouth drops open and he presses his hips firmly against yours as he finally cums, the feeling of his cock pulsing and throbbing inside of you sending more tears down your cheeks.

He slows to a stop, and for a moment the two of you just lay there, breathing heavily. Then he pulls himself out and rolls over, flopping down on the bed next to you. You can feel his cum leaking out of your aching hole, but you’re far, far too tired to do anything about it. Instead, you scoot closer to him and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He smooths your hair back, pushing loose strands out of your face.

Neither of you say anything. You both already know.

After a bit of laying together like this, eventually, the two of you get up to take a shower. His big, warm hands help you scrub your back and scratch a spot you just barely can’t reach. He leans down and lets you scrub at his hair, and you watch the tension in his shoulders release as you rinse out the soap, careful not to get it in his eyes.

You tug your clothes on, and grab him some breakfast. Rice and some water. Something easy on his stomach. On your way back, you stop by your cottage. You grab some spare clothes. The radio that plays nothing but white noise. A few of your favorite books. You bring it all to him, and the smile on his face when he sees it tells you that you both had the same thing in mind.

Curled up next to him on his bed while he eats his rice, you read quietly to him while the radio drones on in the background.

Lonely kids tend to stick together.

#hajime hinata #hajime hinata x reader #sdr2 #danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #writing tag

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ceciliaceofbase · 3 years ago

Note

dude taste of peaches was soooo good!!! i loved it, i was wondering, since ur taking requests, if you could do a frat!peter parker x reader and they’ve been dating for awhile and the readers a virgin but peters more experienced and he’s super sweet and walks her thru it but also makes her asks for everything so major teasing and praise. only if ur comfortable!! ty :)

Thanks for your kind words, got me sobbing harder than when I was actually writing this cute piece. I really appreciate the request and my sincerest apologies for the wait! It was so much fun to write, I hope you like it :)

Summary: [NSFW] Your boyfriend has been waiting for a long time, praying you'd give him what he wanted soon. Finally, you work up the courage to tell him what you want... unfortunately, he keeps making you ask.

CW: frat!peter, submissivevirgin!femreader, smut!!!, unprotected sex, pet names (babygirl, darling, sweetheart, baby, honey, good girl), LOTS of praise, teasing, explicit description and wording, less plot more smut, masturbation (m), begging, loss of virginity, extreme fluff, the reader being a cute insecure embarrassed crybaby mess (relatable tbh), Peter being needy and teasing yet the sweetest boy on the planet

****PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU BELIEVE YOU MAY BE TRIGGERED. I PROMISE IT'S NOT WORTH THE RISK!!!****

A/N: I simultaneously love this and hate it at the same time? The prompt, concept, and Peter in this is chefs kiss... I just don't like the writing. Also, the reader is almost just me in this exact scenario so I apologize for the annoying amount of flusteredness. Enjoy!

Everyone in this fic is 18+

5k words, edited once

Just call my name, I’ll be there in a hurry, you don’t have to worry,” You sang, swinging your hips around to the song. You weren’t the best dancer, but you had a pretty good rhythm, prancing around the kitchen. “Ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, ain’t no RIVER wide enough.”

“-To keep me from getting to you, baby,” A deeper, familiar voice came from the living room, making you jump and yelp in surprise. You heard him laugh slightly, walking deeper into the light and giving you a teasing smile. He was in his spidey suit, holding the mask in his hands to explain his messy curls.

“Peter,” You sighed, letting out a giggle, “you scared the goodness outta me, sheesh.”

You quickly walked over to him, bare feet padding on the cold floor, setting down the bowl you were whisking on the way over. You pushed into his chest, giving him a tight hug that showed you were grateful for him to be home from patrol. The smell of his cologne filled the air around you, his body still cold from whipping through New York at such a late hour.

“Oh, I sure hope not. It’s one of my favorite things about you,” He smiled, stroking your hair back and placing a kiss on your head. “Sorry, I’m late.”

You leaned back, giving him a dramatic pout.

“What took you so long? I was getting worried...” You trailed off when his hands came up to hold your face.

“The fraternity had another meeting-”

“AKA another party?” You raised a brow at this, pout still evident. He chuckled at the attitude, rolling his eyes. You hated it when he went to those parties, even if it was just for a minute. All the prettiest... experienced girls would try and hit on your boyfriend even if you were standing right there, attempting to get his pretty face and hot body in their bed. He was quick to politely decline, kissing you to show he had his own girl, yet you couldn’t help but feel bad.

He would never cheat on you, but his skill in bed was well known, talked about heavily between many of the women who stared. You would get so embarrassed and feel sick when you heard them talking about things like how lucky you were... especially when they got jealous, muttering quick insults on how you were undeserving. But even after those horrible parties, you’d still rather be there with Peter than at home all by yourself.

“Yes, but I have to make an appearance. They’ll kick me out in a minute you know,” He gave you a sympathetic smile and you sighed.

“I know, I just-” You hesitated, not wanting to sound ridiculous.

“Just what baby girl?” He pressed, subconsciously swaying both of you to the music in the background. “Jealous?”

“No!” You scoffed making him quirk an eyebrow. He wasn’t believing it for a second, so you dropped the act. “The other girls, you know... they’re experienced and could give you a good time. I’m sure that’s tempting when you got a-”

He interrupted you with a passionate kiss, you let out a surprised squeal that was swallowed by his own lips. You were surprised when his hands went to your ass giving a hard squeeze before he seemed to realize what he was doing, bringing them back to your hips quickly. He let himself groan into your mouth, holding you tight against him.

Your lips were swollen and you had to gasp for air after the tough kiss, surprised. You and Peter had been dating for a few months now, never going past some pretty tame make-out sessions, and that was the most passionate kiss you had EVER received.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” His voice was stern, so stern that it surprised you. You let your gaze fall to your feet, embarrassment flushing your features. His response was to lightly grip your chin and gently guide you to eye contact. “I’ll wait, no matter how long, until you are ready to take that step. I don’t care about experience, I care about you.”

The words stirred some emotion in your chest and you had to choke back a few tears. You knew Peter had lost his virginity and gained a lot of knowledge since high school, but the fact that he was being so patient with something you were so nervous about made your heart flutter. You didn’t know this, but Peter was actually putting himself through hell every second he was around you.

Your smell, your touch, your smile, the noises you made on a daily basis... it was driving him crazy. Every minute of the day he thought about all the things he would do when you were ready and no amount of “alone time” could fix the constant fire burning through his mind, heart, and dick. He was constantly holding himself back from what he was used to giving the people he dated, catching himself from lovingly tapping you on the ass as he walked by, or almost letting his hands travel to your breasts while kissing.

Peter was obsessed and it was killing him, every part of him itching to touch you even when you did the littlest things. When you raked your fingers through his hair, when you bent over the counter to grab your phone off of the charger, when you made little huffs to show your frustration... when you hugged him just like this. But he waited, as every partner should, even if it was burning him from the inside out.

“But-” You started to explain your feelings, stopping at his hard stare.

“I’m alright darling, I want to wait until you are fully ready. I’d wait until marriage if you asked,” He chuckled, suddenly getting a little bit more serious. He would wait that long, but he was also pretty sure it would kill him by that point. “But please don’t do that...”

You let out a laugh, letting your head lean into his chest again. You trusted Peter at this point and felt ready to step past just kissing, but the nervousness and embarrassment were still there. How do you tell your partner that you’re ready for sex? Hey Pete, wanna fuck my brains out?

It wasn’t on purpose, but when you pushed the hug further into his chest, your thigh had roughly brushed against his already aching cock. He had to stifle a groan, scrunching up his eyes into a frustrated face. If you were actually looking at him, he would have hidden the sexual frustration that he was feeling in a heartbeat. But the smell of you and the sound of your heartbeat so close to his was more than he could bear.

“I-I’m going to go get changed, okay?” He said quickly, hoping you didn’t see or feel the massive bulge in his suit. You were oblivious as he quickly strode into the hallway towards his bedroom, making you a bit confused. He usually really liked your hugs...

He shut the door quickly, shedding his suit and boxers immediately. His cock popped out hard and ready, the cool air making him groan. He felt guilty and gross, getting so turned on right after you confessed some hard feelings and only because you hugged him... he felt even more perverted as he touched himself to the image of you in his head, not feeling satisfied even after he came all over his hand.

“Pete... Are you feeling okay? I’m sorry if I said something,” You stuttered through the doorway, wringing your hands lightly. Your soft voice only made the problem worse and he had to remind himself that you weren’t doing this to him on purpose.

He cursed as he grabbed a shirt to clean up, he could hear that your heartbeat was sped up and that you were nervous.

“I’m fine honey, I mean, you-you’re fine! J-just give me a few more minutes, I’ll be right out!” He said, pleading you’d leave him to recover.

“Okay,” You were hesitant, worried about your boyfriend's weird behavior. But you figured that if he needed your help or assistance, not that he ever had before, then he would tell you. You were very wrong as he really, really, really needed you. Right. Now. But you were oblivious yet again as you moved back to the kitchen to finish your soup.

Peter was relieved, trying to block out everything about you while he calmed down. Changing into loose boxers and an oversized t-shirt, aka his normal before-bed clothes, he hoped that maybe his body could keep it down until you went to your own apartment down the hall. That hope was quickly diminished when he walked into the kitchen, his face falling and his throat becoming drier than the Sahara.

You had forgotten to grab the cornstarch, which Peter happened to store in the highest cupboard, on the highest shelf, in the whole house. So you were kneeling on the counter, your short athletic shorts being pulled up with your reach, so far that your ass was pretty much on display. And you were wearing one of his shirts... while making small grunts and sighs while attempting to reach the yellow container, eventually going to move to your feet.

Peter's spider-sense was blaring sirens at the sight of this so he was quick to run over. He lifted you up by the waist, making you squeal and giggle in surprise, before gently setting you down. Sure the cupboard was high, but all he had to do was jump with little effort and grab it for you.

“You should ask for my help, you could easily get hurt,” He scolded slightly, holding the container just beyond your reach. He tried not to be angry, but the sexual frustration he was having only seemed to heighten his annoyance. Horribly sexual thoughts flooded through his brain, scenarios, and images ripping through his very being.

“I’m sorry, thanks for grabbing it for me,” You smiled sweetly, looking up at him with big doe eyes. His frustration seemed to melt at your cute face and his expression softened immediately. You reached for the container, your legs brushing his own yet again, making him shutter... his frustration returning, only this time... you noticed.

He could sense your heart skip a beat, a familiar scent reaching his nose almost immediately. He was shocked at how quickly you were also suddenly aroused, your soup completely forgotten.

“Uh... Pete,” Your face was a bright red and a feeling of lust stirred in your lower stomach. Peter followed your gaze, to be met by a huge tent working past both his shirt and boxers. He mentally slapped himself, less embarrassed and more worried about the possibility of you being uncomfortable.

“Oh- I’m so sorry, just give me a minute and-” He started rambling.

“I- uhm... I could help you with that,” You mumbled so low a regular person wouldn’t have heard, extremely embarrassed at your own words. Your face was burning incredibly hot, and you could feel your heart pounding against your chest like it was trying to escape. Peter froze in his tracks, almost not believing what he heard.

“What was that sweetheart?” His voice was low, wanting you to say it out loud. Your face only got hotter as you stared at the ground, playing with your fingers.

“Do- Do you want me to help you with that?” You asked a bit louder this time, Peters breath hitched at the confirmation of what he thought you said.

“Of course, I do,” He sighed slightly, licking his lips. “But are you ready? You shouldn’t feel pressured to-”

“No, I-” You swallowed thickly, nerves igniting your whole body. “I want to.”

Your embarrassed state and arousal seemed to fill the silent room with a lot of noise for Peter, excitement bubbling in his chest at the thought of you finally being comfortable enough to lose your virginity... he felt honored, but his brain was fogged by the need to be on you. He knew he had to be gentle and caring, so he pushed down that urge, focusing on emotions... yet he couldn’t stop himself from teasing you, seeing you were all worked up already.

“Then say it. Say exactly what you want me to do with you,” He watched as your foot stomped lightly, at this point your eyes were glued to the floor with unwavering focus.

“I... I want to,” You let out an embarrassed little sigh, clenching your fists together. He was such an ass, making you all flustered and begging... if only you knew the reason why. You see, he had been left so needy throughout your long wait, it only seemed fair to him that he made you ask for what he’d had been internally begging for since you first started dating. Besides, it was making your panties absolutely soaked, so he knew you liked it.

“Come on... I want to hear you say it. You can do it, baby girl,” He encouraged, eyes twinkling with amusement as he moved closer to you.

“I want you to-to,” You scrunched your eyes up, before letting the last part of your sentence come out in a strained squeak. “fuck me.”

“Aw cute, but where are your manners?” He teased, acting nonchalant as if he wasn’t holding back his entire self from just grabbing you and not waiting a second longer. But he needed you to beg, knowing that you were feeling the same desperation that he was. You huffed, finally looking up to give him a dirty look.

“Please Peter,” Your voice was so needy, it seemed to drip with pure lust. “I want- I need you to fuck me, please.”

The sound of that voice, your own desperation, was like a hit to Peter’s chest. He thought he had never been this winded and taken aback before, even through years of fighting villains left and right. You seemed to be his only weakness, the only thing that could catch his senses off guard.

“There’s a good girl,” He praised, pushing himself into your small (well, small to him), soft body. He kissed you just as hard as earlier, only this time letting his hands squeeze your ass. You groaned into his mouth, your body quickly being enveloped by the same fire Peter had been battling for months.

You were so distracted by all the feelings that were rushing over you at once, you didn’t even notice Peter had guided you two to his bedroom until the back of your thighs brushed the comforter. He set you down gently, hands and mouth never leaving your body as he positioned himself on top of you. He let his lips leave your own, traveling to the crook of your neck.

You moaned aloud, the noise making your face flush red with embarrassment and Peter's cock twitch. He groaned into your soft skin, leaving small marks and hickeys to remind you of this special night. He could have stayed there forever, listening to your mewls for something as simple as a neck kiss but he needed release, and he needed it soon.

Fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, you realized what he was insinuating... it made your stomach flip, worrying about what he’d think when seeing your stomach and breasts. He pulled up to look at you and he could see the panic in your eyes.

“I want to take this off, I’ve wanted that for a long time now. Are you ready?” He asked, his gaze raking over your face. You pushed down the nervousness, realizing that he was also still fully dressed. You let your hands fiddle with the ends of his shirt as well, hoping he would get the idea but the smirk on his face crushed that.

“You want to see me, sweetheart?” He asked, tsking when you just nodded with an embarrassed look on your face. “You know how this goes, tell me what you want.”

“I want you to t-take your shirt off,” You said, quickly remembering the forgotten word. “Please.”

“Such a good listener, good girls get what they want. All you have to do is ask,” He smiled, acting like it was the easiest thing in the world, knowing it took all of your courage to muster a sentence like that. He took off his shirt letting your eyes rake down his sculpted body, drool almost immediately filling your mouth. You’d seen him without a shirt a few times, but now... the sight just made you want to cum on the spot.

You were pulled out of that trance as his hands returned to the ends of your shirt, and you didn’t want him to take it off. You were so scared of him seeing your body, so you shook your head, feeling disappointed that you couldn’t give him what he gave you. His eyebrows furrowed, worried at your sad face.

“What’s the matter? Why are you afraid?” He whispered, giving you sweet kisses on your chest making you squirm underneath him, wanting him to touch you somewhere else while also not wanting him to move.

“What if-” You cut yourself off again, but Peter understood what you were trying to say. He sat up quickly, looking you straight in the eye, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re beautiful, Y/n, every part of you. I don’t need to even need to see it to know that,” He said, seriousness etched on his every feature. When you still looked unconvinced he sighed. “You don’t have to take it off, of course, you can leave it on.”

You shook your head again.

“I want to, I’m just... I’m scared,” You said, your lips forming into another pout. He kissed it away before pulling back up.

“How about we make a deal. I take off your shirt, but you can leave your bra on until you get more comfortable. How does that sound?” He asked, wanting you to be more comfortable more than he wanted to see your breasts... something you weren’t used to hearing from a boyfriend. You trusted Peter more than anything, anyone, else. So you nodded and he beamed. “My brave, pretty, little girl.”

He slowly peeled the fabric off your body and over your head, eyes never leaving yours until it was all the way off just in case you changed your mind. When you nodded he let his eyes finally trail over you, his breath quickening just at the sight. Your face was red and embarrassed, his gaze scanning every inch of your torso and caged breasts. You moved your arms to cover up but he was quick to stop them.

“You’re so beautiful, please don’t ever hide from me again,” His eyes were pleading, so you put your arms back down, allowing him to see you. He moved down, kissing the cleavage that showed and every inch of your cute tummy. He peppered soft praises in between every kiss, truly entranced with every part of you. “So pretty. I’m never going to be able to get you out of my mind. So lucky to have such a pretty girl. Such a good girl for me.”

You covered your face in embarrassment, but the soft words made your stomach flutter and your eyes water. He was so gentle and understanding, it made you want to cry. It hurt him, how much you thought he was going to hate your body, even though this was the prettiest sight he’d ever seen. Only to be topped when you would be completely naked, flustered, and squirming just for him in the near future. He would wait for you, but until then he was happy to have what he could, praising every inch of his girl.

As he got close to the band of your shorts, he began to think about how much he wanted to taste you. But he knew you weren’t ready for him to be in between your legs just yet, you’re modesty and shame were keeping him from seeing your breasts... there was no way he was going to get a good look at your pretty pussy, without killing you with embarrassment.

So he kissed and marked your thighs, running a finger underneath the band of your shorts, letting you become wetter and wetter for him. Your need was growing strong, the pressure building in your stomach full of the urge to be touched. You knew he wasn’t going to push any farther until you asked, so you whined.

“Peter, please,” You whimpered, letting your hands fall into his curls. “Please take my shorts off and t-touch me.”

“I didn’t even have to ask this time,” His eyes twinkled. “You learn so quickly, such a smart girl.”

He complimented again while slipping his fingers below the skimpy shorts before pulling them off. The cold air hit your pussy and you shivered, slamming your thighs shut in an attempt to cover up, still covering your face in embarrassment. Peter’s eyebrows rose at this, a smirk once again settling on his face.

“No panties?” He chuckled at the embarrassed little grunt you made, squirming underneath the hold he had on your waist. “Such a naughty girl. Were you teasing me on purpose? Huh, baby?”

“N-no, I- I-” You stuttered out, unable to say anything else as your flusteredness clouded your brain, your pretty little spot between your legs aching to be touched. He let his hands run on the outside of your bare legs, making goosebumps appear all over your body.

“Can’t even get a sentence out to defend yourself... I haven’t even fucked you yet sweetheart,” He hummed, sounding disappointed even though it was exactly what he wanted, making your core flutter for him. But you still kept your thighs clamped shut and it took everything inside you to keep your hands from interrupting what he could see. You would have even brought your knees up if his body wasn’t right above them.

You were so ready for him, your slick covering your thighs and glistening under the light. He so badly wanted to lick it off of you, like it was some sort of forbidden glaze just calling out for his tongue. But he was only holding back simply out of pure respect for your boundaries... though he did need you to open your legs if he was going to fuck you.

So he started to slide his boxers off, your eyes glued to the sight of cock bouncing up and out of its confines. Your mouth watered and you wondered if you could even fit him, your legs suddenly wanting to part on their own. You watched as he touched himself lightly, letting soft sighs come off of his lips, it was a sight that had your legs shaking.

You whined, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, almost willing to touch yourself at this point.

“Look at me,” He commanded softly, your eyes coming to face him immediately. “Do you want this cock inside your tight, little pussy?”

You whimpered nodding quickly, and he only chuckled.

“Then open your legs baby,” He said, only taking you a few seconds to follow the command, though only partially. You had never been so embarrassed, unable to even look at him while he stared down at your glistening folds. It didn’t take him long before he used his strong hands to spread your thighs all the way open for him, the cold air hitting your clit and making you gasp.

He slowly brought the tip of his angry cock to your needy pussy, dragging it up and down slowly. You moaned at the sensation, body bucking from the contact. You needed him right then.

“Peter, please fuck me,” You groaned loudly, not even caring about your nerves anymore.

“Fuck,” He wanted to tease more but he just couldn’t, he needed to be inside you just as much as you wanted him. Slowly, he entered into your tight hole, cursing under his breath.

A tight pain ripped through your stomach, you whimpered a bit while scrunching your eyes closed. He was barely inside of you, yet it felt like you were being ripped in half. You felt tears brim your eyes, but you knew it would fade just like everyone said.

Peter was torn between wanting to move and wanting to pull out, the look on your face paining him while your pussy was giving him a heaven-like feeling. He stilled, waiting for you to say if you needed him out or when you were ready for him to move again. He leaned close to your face, kissing the tears that escaped and whispering sweet nothings.

“You’re doing so good honey, this will fade. I’m so proud of you,” He said, voice dripping with honey and care. You entangled your hands in his hair, rubbing your face into his neck until you were ready, giving him a small nod. “There you go, almost there my sweet girl. Almost there.”

He inched forward, every time having extreme patience until he was bottomed out. Tears dripping down your face, slight bite marks in Peter’s left shoulder, and your body screaming at you. Peter was large and long, you being a virgin made the stretch intense, along with the nervousness that had enveloped you the whole time.

Peter was so loving and gentle, holding you like an injured dove, letting you grip onto his hair and whimper into his shoulder. Sweet praises dribbled into your ear throughout the whole time as he placed soft kisses along your jaw, cheeks, and ears. Over time, each small movement became less tight, less painful, and more pleasurable.

Your slick covered his cock as he slowly moved back and forth, Peter focusing on you. Every time your whines turned more into moans he’d go a bit faster, and a bit deeper until he was at a medium, rhythmic pace. This moment was passionate, sweet, and caring, his rough thoughts completely being left behind... until he knew you could take it of course.

Besides, he didn’t have to go fast. Your tight walls were squeezing him mercilessly while your open-mouthed gasps and small mewls were driving him insane. He had waited for you for so long, and he finally had all of you... Peter was in pure bliss.

“I’m so proud of you. D-doing so good sweetheart. You feel so nice, taking my cock so good,” He mumbled in between his own moans. You only nodded into him, your nails pressing into his back.

With every gentle push of his hips, nip of his lips, and every bit of praise coming from him the wave grew larger. Your orgasm was approaching fast and you knew it, your moans got a bit louder with every thrust.

“P-peter, I’m close,” You whimpered, legs curling around his torso.

“Tell me what you want,” He whispered, driving just a bit faster to push you over the edge. His dark brown eyes met your own, while yours glistened with tears from having such a wonderful partner and the tight cock splitting you open, his were filled with adoration, lust, and a glint of mischief. The euphoric smile still sat on his face, his curls rocking back and forth with his every movement.

“I want y-you to make me cum,” You stuttered, feeling dangerously close to the edge as the tightness in your stomach seemed to wind your toes into your feet. You pulled Peter as close as you could, your bodies rubbing against each other lightly.

“You wanna cum? Do it, for me. I want to feel you cum around me,” He groaned into your ear, the dirty words sending you over the edge.

“Peter!” You moaned as the wave of light crashed over you. Electricity shot through your spine as your whole body shook, your breaths coming out in quick little gasps.

The feeling of you finishing sent Peter crashing, usually, he could last for so much longer but the moment and you just felt so right. With his own moans and quick stuttering breaths, he let himself fill you up entirely. He bit into your own shoulder as you both rode your high until the end, one of you exhausted and the other one too happy to even try to continue.

Peter pulled out, your mess and his mixing into a canvas of passion on your thighs and sheets. Your body was still shaky more from nerves than anything, but the smile on your face was one of pure happiness.

Peter laid beside you, pulling you into his chest while he placed tons of kisses into your hair. You snuggled into him, listening to his heartbeat and smelling him around you.

“You did so good baby, so good. I'm so happy you trusted me enough, so proud of how well you took that,” He praised, letting his hands rake your back gently.

“Thank you, for being patient,” You whispered into him, soaking in his warmth.

“Anything for you... anything,” He hummed. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” You giggled a little bit. “But happy... I think this is the happiest I've ever been.”

“I think I feel the same... And don't worry, we’ll get you used to me in no time,” He teased, making you roll your eyes. He peppered kisses along your face now, feeling satisfied for the first time in months. Exhaustion caught up with you quickly and you soon fell asleep with your face in Peter’s hands.

He smiled at your fluttering eyelashes as your soft breaths came from your swollen lips. He thought about how lucky he was, and how lucky he'd continue to be. Slowly, he fell asleep holding you tightly, dreaming of the next time.

A/N: I literally cried my eyes out while writing this, so sweet. Praying for a boy like Peter to take my v-card just like this (tmi). I really hope you enjoyed it, and thanks again for the wonderful request, I really enjoyed writing it :,)

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seita · 4 years ago

Text

― you’ve faked an orgasm. ˒ oikawa, atsumu, + sakusa.

genre: angst (?), fluff, suggestive

tags: cunniligus, mating press, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk

request: hello! can i request oikawa, atsumu and sakusa where they realize you faked an orgasm with them?

note: this is kind of more,,,,reassurance and soft??? idk what you intended the req to be but,,,,hopefully this was it.

⤿ requests currently closed.

― tooru oikawa.

≻ he will be......hurt ≻ like he’ll wanna talk about it ≻ he’ll feel kind of???? ≻ embarrassed ig ≻ that you had to fake it ≻ pls talk to him and tell him what’s goin on ≻ he’ll ask why you didn’t tell him u weren’t feelin it ≻ like he’s always down to help u ≻ he never wants you to go unsatisfied !! ≻ he’ll ask you if you want him to make u cum ≻ he’s more than willing to take the extra time to do it ≻ it’s what u deserve ≻ also it’ll help soothe his humiliation

ever confident in his oral skills, he eagerly spreads your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your wet pussy, dripping white with his cum. he does mind it, sliding his tongue up your slit to collect your mixed juices. he hums, eagerly swallowing it down before spreading your folds to zero in on your hard little clit.

the second his lips wrap around the little bud, your back arches. his tongue circles and flicks before he pulls away, letting the suction go with a loud pop. the sound brings heat to your face, as it always does.

he eats pussy like a mad man, not caring how much of a mess you make on his face. the sounds he makes as he licks your clit and fucks your spasming hole with his tongue are downright obscene. still, you obediently hold your legs open, letting him work you towards your orgasm.

you’re stuck in your head, overthinking and feel yourself struggling to get there. your eyes focus on your boyfriends head of pretty, brown hair, reaching down to run your fingers through the thick locks.

he hums appreciatively, eyes flicking up to see your brows furrowed and a little frown on your face.

he pulls away, panting for a second. you watch his throat move as he swallows before speaking, “hey, just relax. let me make this pretty pussy cum, hm?”

you whimper at his words and he grins as your cunt clenches in response. he slides his tongue over your clit again, laying a wet kiss on the bud,

“you can cum for me whenever you want, babygirl,” he whispers, circling his thumb over your clit, laying his cheek on your thigh to watch the way your cunt gushes more of his cum out, “such a mess you’re making. am i making your little cunt feel good?”

you nod, still clutching at his hair, “tooru! pl-please!”

he grins, “that’s what a i like to hear, what do you need, baby?”

“y-your tongue, please,” you barely get the request out before he’s sloppily tonguing your clit again.

spit and cum make a mess all over the both of you. he doesn’t let his eyes leave you as he watches your body freeze, tightening up as you dangle precariously on that tantalizing edge.

he viciously wraps his lips around the bud and sucks, finally catapulting you over. you tremble and squirm in his grasp, tugging painfully at his hair. he doesn’t mind, it’s worth it to watch you finally fall apart.

when you come down, he slithers back up your body, lower face glistening.

“next time you can’t cum,” he breathes, grinding his, once again, hard cock against you, “just tell me, okay?”

― atsumu miya.

≻ OHOHOHOBOY ≻ YOU BETTER HOPE HE DOESN’T FIND OUT ≻ BC MAN WILL N O T BE HAPPY ≻ it’s a massive blow to his ego ≻ and he’s a pretty prideful guy ≻ really prides himself on his ability to take care of you ≻ like oikawa, he’ll wonder why you didn’t just,,,,tell him you couldn’t get off??? ≻ like “babe, i woulda helped ya, you know that.” ≻ will feel pretty hurt over it, might even get a little mad that you couldn’t just tell him and instead chose to fake it ≻ won’t let you out of his sight without making cum for real ≻ might even fuck around and make you cum a few times just to prove to himself he actually can do it ≻ pls he’s a bit insecure and needs to fix his bruised ego lmao

his fingers are buried inside you before you can even think twice. it wasn’t that you weren’t feeling good, it just wasn’t quite enough to send you over the edge in time.

he doesn’t care that his hand is getting covered in his own cum. he can clean it up later. it aides in the slick movements he makes to fuck the tips of his fingers perfectly against your g-spot, the stimulation immediately making you cry out.

it feels like it’s too much and you reach out to grasp at him. you pull at his arm, claw at his back, and fist his hair. he doesn’t mind, lets you cling to him all you need as he brings his other hand down to press against your lower stomach.

you squeal and your legs kick as the move makes it even easier for him to abuse that sweet little spot on your upper wall. he thumbs as your clit, brows furrowed as his eyes are locked on your cunt.

his gaze is dark, anger still swirling within them.

“you better cum for me,” he orders low, bicep flexing as he fucks your gushing cunt. you sob, tears stinging your eyes at the overwhelming feelings. soft pleas fall from your lips, to let you rest, to slow down, that it’s too much. but he heeds none of them, “quiet, i know what ya need.”

you whine and resort to clawing at the bed, not wanting to leave visible marks on your boyfriend. he’s breathing heavily, his arm is no doubt aching but he still doesn’t stop. not until a loud shout erupts from your lips when he rolls your clit under his thumb.

“cum,” he growls, “ya better cream all over my fuckin’ hand right now.”

you heed his demand, walls clenching tight around his fingers as you finally fall over the edge. he groans as he cum, slowing his pace considerably to ease you through the high, not wanting to overstimulate you and potentially ruin your orgasm.

he removes his thumb from your clit but keeps his fingers buried inside. your walls continue to spasm around him in the orgasmic aftershocks. your chest rises and falls with the desperate breaths you take, your body trembling. he grins, happy to see the lovely mess you became. you could never replicate your orgasm to be as perfect as you were right now.

before long, he starts moving his fingers again and you look at him with wide eyes, making him grin.

“you didn’t think that was it, did ya?” he asks, “no, i’m gonna make sure ya regret fakin’ it with me.”

― kiyooma sakusa.

≻ he’ll immediately know ≻ he pays insanely close attention to you ≻ he literally knows every detail about you ≻ including the way you act and feel when you cum ≻ won’t even hesitate in calling it out ≻ you’ll have to explain it to him bc he’s not letting you go anywhere until u tell him what happened ≻ after that, he’ll just roll his eyes and be like ≻ “you should have just told me,” and then he’ll go on his way about makin you cum properly ≻ don’t test him. ≻ u can’t trick him

he folds you you into a press, your knees pinned to your chest as he resumes fucking you. you’re lucky he hadn’t cum because he immediately knew you faked it. the time taken to talk to you had made his nearing orgasm wane.

he angles his hips properly, brows furrowed as he watches your cunt swallow his cock. every time he pulls out, he’s covered in your juices and the sight makes him groan.

“yoomi,” you whimper in that oh so pretty way you always do when you feel good.

he fights back a smile, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad before pressing it against your swollen clit. you keen immediately, attempting to arch your back but can’t because of his strength. you reach down and grip his wrist desperately, your eyes wide as you feel your high mounting.

it was insane how easily he could manipulate your body into cumming in a few short minutes if he really wanted to.

“cum,” he orders softly, immediately clenching his jaw when he feels your cunt lock up around him.

you tremble and your eyes roll back as you squeal, cumming hard on his cock as he fucks you through it until your gasping and begging for him to slow down, which he eventually does with a sigh, letting you wrap your legs around his waist again.

“see?” he grumbles, wrapping his hand around your throat before leaning down to brush his lips against yours, “that’s what you’re like when you really cum.”

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #filled.request

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