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namluve · 4 years

Text

paring: namjoon x reader

genre: smut with a hint of plot!

rating: 18+

warnings: unprotected sex (keep it safe), hard dom!namjoon, sub!reader, rough sex, rope bondage, orgasm control, orgasm denial, over stimulation, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), use of toys, use of harness, ice play, degradation, use of whore, praise, pussy slapping, ass play, slight size kink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of masturbation, use of colour system, squirting, cum play, OC crying bc she is so over stimulated, a little aftercare

word count: 7.0k

summary: namjoon found out you had faked an orgasm. to say he wasn’t pleased would be an understatement.

note: thank you hannah @spicykoreantatertots for betareading it, couldn’t have done it without you and also thank you heath @shadowsremedy for your love and support. it really meant a lot! also, everyone at HQ who knows what bed leg means, thank you so much asdjhgj. it’s been sitting for a while but here is the best smut piece i’ve written so far (if you ask me). enjoy!

Prior to your night out, Namjoon accidently found out you faked an orgasm a week ago. He was on your phone, scrolling through the photos the two of you had taken together when your friend texted you at the worst time possible.

Amanda [02:12 PM]

- Did you talk to him about it?

- Does he know you faked it??

And that is the story of how Namjoon found out. He had been angry, of course, but mostly hurt that you would not tell him about it.

The last couple of days, up until the evening out with your friends, Namjoon had been more distant with you. It hurt, you wanted to have him close to you after all. So, you decided to explain to him this morning why you had faked it, and also why you did not tell him about it.

Honestly, it was embarrassing to you. You had been so close to the edge the entire night, your orgasm just around the corner, but something was off. Your mind was not in the right headspace at the time. You could not quite focus on the sex, ending up with faking your orgasm, rather than just telling Namjoon the truth.

He wished you would have just told him. So did you. But in the moment, you made a split-second decision. Even though Namjoon understood that, he still wished you would have just told him.

On your night out with your friends he was his normal self, although, a little bit more touchy than usual in public. The two of you had not had sex for a week, so you did not think much of it. But it was all a part of his plan to remind you to never do something like that again.

You were surprised that Namjoon ordered you to go to the bedroom once the two of you came home, and wait for him there, naked. As you started walking towards the bedroom, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Namjoon came into your bedroom about five minutes later, you were sitting at the edge of the bed, naked. Hands on your knees and eyes low. Not speaking unless you were told to. Just how Namjoon had trained you. He smirked, loving how you did exactly as he told you to. Just like any other night. Except this time Namjoon had some other plans.

Firstly, he went over to your wardrobe and pulled out the rope the two of you had bought a couple of months prior. Choosing the rope over the silk told you he was tying you up for punishment, not reward.

“Lay down, legs spread.” You obeyed his command at once, turning around to crawl up the bed when you heard his voice again, “No no, stay at the edge.”

Laying down at the edge, feet on the floor, you really wondered what Namjoon had in store. No matter how many times the two of you got intimate, you always wanted to cover yourself up while Namjoon was still preparing. While you were nervously waiting for what was about to come. Your hands started moving up but Namjoon caught it as he was untying the rope. He hated when you covered yourself up. Always wanting to have you on display for him and him only.

“Are you really trying to make it worse for you princess?” You put your hands down beside your body immediately, but Namjoon just shook his head. The damage was already done.

“Guess I really do have no other option than to tie you up. Here I was going to give you a chance to be a good girl.” Namjoon had no plans of that whatsoever, however, he loved to play games with you. Letting you think this night could have gone differently, that you had any other options at all under his mercy.

“Hands up,” he spoke, and you did as you were told. Excitement filled your body, sending tingles down your spine and to your core. Taking hold of your hands, he spun the rope around your wrists, just like he had done many times before. Then he tied it and made sure you would not be able to get out of it. He had chosen the longer one of the three ropes the two of you owned, the one that was supposed to be used for full body bondage, originally in order to span the length of the bed.

“Scoot up,” he told you and as always, you listened. You loved being his good girl after all, craving his praise even when punished. Scooting up with your hands above your head proved to be more difficult than you thought and Namjoon chuckled at your struggle. Barely making any progress on the matter he spoke again, “that’s enough princess.” He just wanted to see you struggle, see you be in need of his help.

You felt a tug at your wrist as Namjoon secured the rope around the bed frame, your hands now tied together at your wrist, resting above your head and lastly, tied to the bed frame above you. Satisfied with his work, Namjoon took the second rope that he had placed on the bed in his hands.

“Legs spread.” You did not need to be told twice, breathing heavily as you could not wait until Namjoon would start to play with you. You spread your legs. Pussy now full on display for Namjoon but all you could hear was a disappointed ‘tsk’.

“How am I supposed to tie your feet to the bed posts if you can’t even spread them wide enough for the rope to reach?” At Namjoon’s words you tried spreading your legs even further apart, which you could. Not by much, but at least some. Looking at Namjoon’s face you could see he was still not completely satisfied, although he did not say anything. Namjoon squatted down in order to reach your legs, tying them one by one to the bed posts.

With hands above your head, legs spread, feet tied to the end of the bed, you were in Namjoon’s hands. In this vulnerable position, you felt incredibly exposed but also very turned on by the fact that you were at his mercy. With a smirk, he took off his pants and shirt, getting more comfortable for what he was planning to do with you. You could see his semi hard cock as your eyes landed on his groin area, mouth-watering at the thought of how Namjoon would punish you with it. Namjoon on the other hand, had no plans on giving you his dick tonight, at least not any time soon.

He got on top of you, looking into your eyes as he asked, “colour, words.”

“Green,” you answered him. Knowing that ‘words’ meant you were allowed to speak.

“Good girl.” Namjoon did not say anything after he praised you, which meant he allowed you to be vocal tonight. No holding in moans or pleas. Today, you were free.

You got excited. Usually, you were not allowed to make sounds so early on when the two of you played and you were happy that you did not have to hold anything in. Namjoon saw the happiness in your eyes and he almost turned soft. Cute, she really thinks this is some sort of reward, he thought. Namjoon, after all, knew that the only reason he allowed you to be vocal tonight was because he wanted to hear you beg. Plead for mercy.

And so, with that Namjoon started with the punishment he had planned for you. His fingers trailing up and down your thigh, going a little bit higher each time he brought them upwards, soon almost at your core.

“Fuck… you look so pretty tied up like this,” at Namjoon’s praise you clenched your hole around nothing, his words affecting you and making you crave him. He smirked, looking at your pussy as you tried to raise your hips, with little success, barely moving upwards due to how tightly you were tied down to the bed. Namjoon got up from the bed, now standing in front of you, leaving you exposed and tied to the bed without his warm presence.

“Aww… What is it princess? Are you feeling neglected?” Namjoon teased and you let out a whine as you pouted.

“Yes… please sir, do something,” you plead as Namjoon got down on his knees, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Oh I will princess. Don’t worry about that. You will plead for my mercy before I’m done with you.” Inhaling a sharp breath at Namjoon’s promise you felt yourself start to drip down on the bed sheets as Namjoon watched your pussy, two hands on each of your thighs making their way up to your core.

“Such a messy pussy,” Namjoon commented and you felt your cheeks turn red, clenching once again around nothing, desperately wanting to have something filling you up. Namjoon noticed this and he let out a low chuckle.

“Such a messy whore, can’t wait to get her pussy filled up, can she?” Trying to get any friction at all to your core, you try to close your legs. Without any success of course as Namjoon had both of your ankles tied tightly against the end of the bed.

“You’ll get what you deserve, don’t make this harder for yourself. You won’t get out of here for a while.” With that said Namjoon began to finally touch your core, slipping two fingers easily inside of your pussy to gather wetness as he made his way up to your clit, circling it at a slow pace at first.

Soon he picked up the speed, making you whine and moan uncontrollably as your orgasm approached. As you felt the high build up, you started to beg for Namjoon to let you cum.

“Please sir... let me cu-cum… I-I’m so c-close.”

“No,” and with that he removed his fingers from your core, taking your orgasm away from you. Whining, you let a single tear out of frustration leave your eyes. Turning your head to the side, panting as you tried to calm down.

“Let’s see how many ruined orgasms you can take before you beg me to stop.”

Half an hour later and Namjoon was still not done with you. You tried closing your legs several times, but he had you all tied up, hands tied together to the bed frame, legs open wide tied to the foot of the bed. Eyes closed, tears at the corners of your eyes from all the denied orgasms.

"I'm sorry," you cried out for probably the hundredth time this night but Namjoon just slightly shook his head, getting up from laying in between your legs to lay on top of you.

"You're not," he said, grabbing your jaw with his hand, your eyes now wide open and staring into Namjoon’s as he continued, "but you will be."

And so, he continued his punishment, trusting you to use the safe word whenever you needed to. His latest idea was bringing the ice cubes he prepared earlier from the kitchen. The break you got while Namjoon was getting them was well needed. Feeling as if your body was on fire.

When Namjoon came back, he placed the bowl of ice beside you on your nightstand. Then he started by slowly dragging an ice cube over your swollen nipples as you arched your back and cried out, so sensitive to his touch. Closing your eyes because of the overwhelming feeling, you whined out a plea, almost pleading for him to stop.

"You even told Amanda about it… but not me," Namjoon was continuing to run the ice cube down your body, holding in between his fingers as he laid down beside you. In your defence, you really did tell your best friend everything.

"Do you know how that feels? To find out your girlfriend's been faking orgasms and talking to her friends about it instead of her boyfriend?" You wanted to correct him. Using all your strength to form a sentence in between your whimpers and moans.

"It was... only... one..." Namjoon stopped you before you could even finish your sentence, his hand giving you a light slap on your pussy. The stinging making you jump up and squeal, the ropes tied to your hands and feet not leaving much room for your body to move.

"I don't think you understand the situation you're in," he began, his touch leaving your body completely as he stood up from the bed. Looking down at you, Namjoon crossed his arms and 'tskd' at you before putting the ice cube in his mouth. Letting it melt in his mouth a bit before pulling it out. Turning your head, you could finally see him through your blurry, tearstained eyes. A devilish smile on his face.

"You misbehaved, badly, and I need to make sure you learn your lesson so that this will never happen again," Namjoon said with a low voice. Your legs were shaking, and you tried closing them, as you had thousands of times tonight but just as all the other times, you were unable to. Not even an inch. Slumping your body down to the mattress, exhausted, feeling as if you had no more energy left, Namjoon could sense that you were almost at your breaking point. He decided to put the ice cube down in the bowl among the others. Sweat starting to drip from your forehead as you breathed heavily.

“Colour,” he demanded, and you answered, “Green,” in the hopes that he would make you cum. Hoping your punishment would finally be over and you would finally get to cum.

Instead, he opened the drawer next to your bed, as he had probably done about seven times already tonight or more, pulling out yet another toy. This time, one of your favourite ones. The wireless bullet vibrator that could be controlled through an app on Namjoon's phone. His one last punishment for the night.

Normally, you would be excited to see it, knowing what mood Namjoon usually is in when he brings it out. Tonight, you just hoped he would have a tiny bit of mercy on you. As Namjoon went over to the wardrobe to pick out one of your harnesses, you knew that was not what he had in mind as he had chosen specifically the one that is really good at keeping the small vibrator on your clit.

"This is just the beginning baby girl, if you only knew the ways I have imagined to punish you... Ever since you walked around the house with that ridiculously short skirt the day after I found out you had faked it. You had no idea how mad I was," he told you as he put the harness on you that went over your hips and around your legs, "but you will know because you won't even get out of bed when I'm done with you. I can promise you that."

You believed him, you already felt like you would not get out of bed tomorrow. Thank God it was Saturday and you did not actually have to get up and do anything. Your legs were already incredibly sore, countless times had your body tried to close them when Namjoon brought you over, over and over again to the edge. Never letting you fall over it.

Namjoon picked up your phone, unlocking it and opening up the app for the wireless vibrator. The thing with this model was that if you connected the vibrator to the one that it would be used on as well, it had a button for you to use, in case you needed everything to stop. Pressing the button meant turning off the vibrator, immediately. A way for you to use the safe word essentially, if Namjoon was not in the room.

As he placed your phone in your hand, you quickly realized Namjoon would continue out his punishment. Just probably from somewhere else. He had done this once before, when you were out at a party and he had to stay at home to finish some work. In the beginning of the night you did not feel anything, so after a few drinks you completely forgot about it. It was not until Namjoon was done with his work and bored that he turned it on. Safe to say, you were home within half an hour, begging Namjoon to properly fuck you.

“Press it whenever you feel like you need to, okay princess?” You nodded at his words. Normally, Namjoon always wanted a verbal response from you but he knew how sore your throat must be by now. Placing a kiss on your forehead, Namjoon whispered.

“You are taking your punishment so well,” another kiss, now placed on your cheek, “such a good girl… but I’m not done with you yet.”

Meeting his eyes, you saw how his face had softened. A whole new aura presents around him. He was back to his usual soft dom self, you thought.

“I’m gonna leave you here princess and turn on the vibrator occasionally while I get some work done. Okay?” You weakly smiled at him as you nodded.

“Yes sir… I’ll be good,” you whispered. Voice sore from all the crying and moaning. Namjoon softly kissed your lips for a brief moment before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours.

“You always are… My good girl…” He cooed before pulling away, looking at you with so much fondness that your heart skipped a beat. Knowing you are his, and he is yours.

His warm presence soon left you and Namjoon got out of the room. Leaving you with the vibrator on your clit, tightly pressed by the harness, tied up to the bed with no way to leave. Unless, of course, you reached your limit and pressed the button on the phone that would end it all.

For the first fifteen minutes, nothing happened. You could hear Namjoon was in the shower, probably jacking off from being so painfully hard the entire time he had played with you. That was how your mind started to wander, imagining your boyfriend in the shower, his brows furrowed together, his cock in his right hand stroking it slowly. Circling his fingers around the tip, dragging his precum around.

You needed to cum, you needed to cum now. Wiggling around as much as you could, you wished for Namjoon to turn on the toy. At this point you did not care if you came without his permission. You desperately needed to.

So, when Namjoon got out of the shower, you felt the vibrations of the toy for the first time. Painfully low vibrations that stayed on your clit for about ten seconds, not nearly enough what you needed in order to cum.

It went on like that for over ten minutes. Namjoon would start the toy for a few seconds, turning it off for a minute or two before turning it on again before he stopped, and you heard his footsteps outside of the bedroom.

As he opened the bedroom door you turned your head towards him, squinting as your eyelids felt heavy against your eyes. Your body exhausted from the countless times you had been brought up to an orgasm, only to have it ripped away from you. Namjoon carried a tray with a glass, lotion and a bowl as he walked into the room, placing it on the nightstand beside you. As he took the phone from your hand and placed it on the tray you closed your eyes, your body relaxing. The punishment was over. Of that you were sure.

“You did so good princess,” Namjoon cooed as he began to untie the rope around your wrists, “such a good girl taking her punishment so well.”

Once he was done untying your wrists and gently pressing kisses all over them, he moved on to your ankles, untying the ropes that held your legs open and took off the harness that was around your hips. Placing the harness and the toy on the floor beside the nightstand. You winced at how sore your legs felt as you started to move them and Namjoon shot you an apologizing smile.

“You did so well baby girl, you can rest now.”

“No,” you firmly said, shocking Namjoon.

“No?” He questioned and you continued.

“I need to cum sir. I need to cum so bad. Can I please cum? Please sir, I promise I won’t lie to you ever again. I promise I’ll be good,” pleading as Namjoon watched you slowly sat up, being at eye level with him as you made your last plea, “please let me cum on your dick.”

Namjoon’s cock twitched in his pants and he felt himself growing harder by the second as he listened to your pleas. Still, he was afraid you would not be able to handle it, considering this had been the hardest punishment you had received yet by him.

You on the other hand, knew what you wanted. You wanted to cum, and you wanted to cum now.

“Are you sure baby girl? You don’t have to do anything to please me. I’m already pleased that you took your punishment so well.”

“Yes sir, I’m sure. Fuck… just let me cum. I need to cum,” you emphasized. Hoping Namjoon would just get to it before you took the matter into your own hands, literally.

Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows together, watching you as he reached out his hand so caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch. Craving the intimacy he had not been giving you all week. Looking into your eyes, searching for any doubt on your part, Namjoon studied you for a second before making his decision. In your mind, you were afraid of yet another punishment before you could get what you want, afraid that the slip up of the word ‘fuck’ would get you in trouble. Namjoon was never a fan of swear words leaving your mouth when the two of you were in your roles.

“Okay princess… But know that the next time you swear I won’t let you off the hook so easily,” he promised, and a smile lit up on your face, “now how do you want me? Tell me exactly baby or you will get nothing.”

You thought about it for a second. You wanted him close. As close as you could have him.

“I… I want you on the side,” you whispered out, your shy submissive nature coming back. Namjoon continued to caress your cheek, looking deep into your eyes.

“Yeah? What else baby? Tell me more,” he encouraged, and you closed your eyes for a bit.

“Behind me… Want you to hold me,” you whined out and he chuckled, eyes still set on yours.

“Does my princess want to be held? Want me to make love to her?”

“Please sir… Please make love to me…” With the soft-spoken words that left your mouth, Namjoon could never say no to you.

“Okay princess,” and with that, Namjoon’s hand left your face to take his shirt off. When his white t-shirt hit the floor, you could not help but to marvel at the beauty that was right in front of you. His defined shoulders, breath-taking chest and stomach that made you want to worship it all. Hesitantly, you brought up your hand, eyes going up to look into Namjoon’s again. Finding them instantly as he was already watching you.

“May I… Can I touch you sir?”

“You may do whatever you want princess, this is all about you,” his words were soft, filled with care, lust and love. As you began to trail one hand down his chest towards his v-line, he grunted, brushing away the hair that was covering your neck and started to place gentle kisses.

“I’m all yours,” he whispered, and you moaned when he kissed you just below your ear, working his way up to your lips.

“Show me… please sir… show me,” you begged as you moaned and Namjoon knew exactly what you wanted.

Meeting you in a gentle kiss, Namjoon took the opportunity to worship your body with his hands. One of his hands rolling a nipple between his fingers, making you gasp at the sudden pleasure. The other resting at your hip, drawing small circles on the skin. Pulling away from the kiss, he let go of your nipple, a whine at the lack of lost escaping your lips as he caressed your cheek.

“Lay down on your side for me princess.” Obeying his orders, you laid down on the bed as you heard Namjoon taking his pants off behind you. The zipper on his jeans going down, the rough material making noise as he dragged it down his legs until it was thrown somewhere on the bedroom floor with a thud.

Laying down behind you, you felt Namjoon’s hard cock pressed against your ass as he took his arm around you, pulling you in closer to him. Your body was sweaty, and you almost felt bad for Namjoon who had just gotten out of the shower. Keyword, almost. Now that he was here, behind you with his arm wrapped around you, body pressed against yours, you could not help but to think that he will manage.

Pressing a kiss against your back as he wrapped one hand around his cock to guide it to your entrance, you inhaled a sharp breath as you felt the head nudging your entrance.

“Shh princess, need you to relax. Don’t want to hurt you okay?” Namjoon whispered in your ear and you took a deep breath. Letting your tense shoulders fall down and finally relax for the first time this evening.

Namjoon kept pressing kisses against your back, moving closer to your neck where he nibbled on your ear before whispering the words you wanted to hear for so long.

“You ready for me princess?”

“Yes sir,” you moaned as you tried to relax as much as possible. Knowing what a stretch it was every time Namjoon entered you. Knowing today, after all the edging, you would most certain be tighter than usual. All you could hope for was that the wetness dripping down your thighs would help him as he entered you.

Still holding his cock in his hand, Namjoon began to slowly push inside of you. Letting go of his dick once the head was fully in, he wrapped his arms around you. His face was nuzzled into your shoulder, letting out a small groan as he was more than halfway in. The wetness making it easy for Namjoon to stretch you out with his big cock, the slight burn you thought you would feel nowhere in sight. Only feeling pleasure as he entered you.

As soon as he bottomed out, you whimpered, arching your back as you tried to push him further inside of you. As you arched your back you created space between you and Namjoon and he was having none of it. He hugged you tighter, wanting you to be closer to him and not further away as he cooed into your ear, “such a good girl, taking sir’s cock so well.”

Kissing your neck as one of his hands went to play with your breasts, you sighed in relief. Finally, you would get what you had been craving all night. Namjoon’s touch and being able to embrace it, being able to cum from it. This was heaven and you let all the pleasure you were feeling cloud your mind, not thinking about anything else besides what you felt in the moment.

“Let me know when I can move.”

“Mhhm, you can move, please…” Even in your fucked-out state you did not forget to ask Namjoon nicely. Just like the good girl you are, he thought.

“Okay princess, let me know if it gets too much yeah?” You mumbled a ‘yeah’ back to Namjoon right before he started to slowly fuck your tight hole, having to take a hold of your hip from stopping you rocking back into him, wanting him to go faster, chasing your own orgasm the second he entered you. His hand still playing with your boobs, rolling your left nipple between his fingers.

“So… fucking… tight…” Namjoon mumbled to himself but you heard it, his head still resting on your shoulder. Letting out a small moan at his words, Namjoon smirked, knowing you had heard what he said.

“My princess likes it when I call her pussy tight huh? Because it is. It is so fucking tight. I can barely even fit in you princess,” he whispered in your ear, earning a soft moan from you as he continued, “This is all I was thinking about while I was in the shower. Me, fucking your tight pussy. Hearing your sweet moans, seeing your fucked-out face. I came to the thought of your pretty face looking like this while I pounded your pussy.” His words were just turning you on even more, that is, if that were even possible right now.

Your suspicion had been right. He had been jerking off earlier while in the shower. Knowing you made cum, made him so turned on that he could not wait any longer and took matters into his own hands, literally, made you proud and happy. Happy that you had the same effect on him, as he had on you.

As Namjoon kept slowly fucking into you, going a little faster than before now, you could not help but picture him in the shower. Water dripping down his naked toned body, brows furrowed together as his hand pumped his cock vigorously. Clenching your pussy at the thought of it, you heard Namjoon let out a low moan behind you as you squeezed tight around his cock.

His grip on your hip tightened as he pounded harder into you, not faster, but harder. Wanting you to squeeze around his cock for as long as possible. The moans that came out of your mouth were sinister and Namjoon was proud of the fact that he was the one causing them.

“I bet you would let me do anything right now as long as you got to cum. Am I right princess?” Namjoon felt the urge to make you even more fucked out. Wanting to hear you plead once again, just as you had done when he gave you your punishment. You had looked so sweet, so fucked-out from all the pleasure you were receiving. Tears had been leaving your eyes from all the stimulation you had been receiving and that is where Namjoon wanted to have you again. Crying out from all the pleasure you were receiving, not being able to escape it as you laid on your side flushed against him.

Moaning out a ‘yes’ you felt as Namjoon slipped out of you and you cried out in frustration.

“I know baby, I know,” he cooed as he let go of your breast, sneaking down his hand between your bodies, fingers playing around in your wetness. Namjoon had something else in mind, wanting to try out his theory and make you plead. Still wanting you to regret ever faking that orgasm with him, making you cum so hard you would not even dare to think that thought ever again.

His fingers moving upwards from your pussy, grazing by your asshole where he began to circle one finger around the tight rim muscle. You shuddered, letting out a small whimper.

“Oh,” you sighed, as Namjoon smiled into your neck.

“Yeah? Would you let me play with your ass while I fuck you princess? Fill both of your holes?” The thought excited you and you could not help but to nod, the thought of having both of your holes filled making you back your ass slightly into Namjoon’s hand.

His fingers left your ass as they went back to his cock, holding it as he entered you again before going back to your ass, still slick with the wetness he had gathered. His pointer finger circling around the rim of your ass before he slowly pushed it in while he thrusted into your pussy with his cock slowly, earning a moan from you. The feeling overwhelming. The slight burn completely masked by all the pleasure you were feeling. He stayed still once his finger was two knuckles deep, wanting to give you time to adjust.

“Colour?” He asked, wanting to be completely sure that you still wanted this even though the two of you had done ass play before.

“Green sir,” you choked out. It felt like your whole body was on fire from all the stimulation you were receiving. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time.

With your consent, Namjoon started to slowly trust both his finger and cock slowly into you earning a long moan from you. His cock brushing against your g-spot with his long slow strokes and it did not take long until you were at the edge again. You needed something more though, you needed your clit to be stimulated.

“M-more… please…” Not finding any better words to use, you tried to beg Namjoon to touch your clit. Namjoon however, took it another way.

“Need more yeah?” He asked as you nodded, thinking his other hand would go to your clit. It did not. The arm he had been using as support to lay properly on the side next to you went under your neck, under the arm you had laying on the bed and stopped at your right boob, grabbing it harshly. You arched your back, trying to escape all the pleasure you were feeling.

“Is that enough princess?” He asked and you shook your head without even thinking.

“Greedy princess… Your wish is my command,” and with that, Namjoon added another finger in your ass, “is that what you wanted?”

You moaned as he slightly picked up the speed, his cock stimulating your g-spot, his two fingers stretching your ass, making you feel so full as his other hand played with your now swollen nipple. It was too much, way too much than what you thought you could handle. Yet, here you were, receiving pleasure you had never even dreamed of before.

This was all that took to push you over the edge, making you cum for the first time without stimulating your clit at the same time. Body shaking, tears falling down your face as your broken moans escaped your mouth, so loud your neighbours are most definitely hearing them. Your pussy squeezing around Namjoon’s cock deliciously, making him moan.

“Fuck princess… I can’t hold it…” Namjoon slipped his fingers out of your ass and you winced before choking on your spit. His hand had quickly found your hip and he was now fucking you at a relentless pace through your orgasm.

You started seeing stars, cumming so hard it felt as if you were peeing. Namjoon was chasing his own orgasm as he fucked you through yours, dragging it out so long it almost became painful before he came, grunting in your ear, holding your boob tightly in his hand. His load filling you up deliciously as your thighs started to feel unreasonably wet once you came down from your high.

“Wow…” Was all you could say as Namjoon started to plant kisses on your shoulder. Gentle kisses filled with love as he slipped out of you. Closing your eyes, you tried to control your breath and calm down from all the intense pleasure you had been feeling. Come down from the height of one of the most intense orgasms you had ever felt.

As Namjoon sat up, letting you turn to lay on your back to rest he noticed the wet patch on the bed by your legs.

“Holy shit.” Upon his words, you opened your eyes to look worrying at him. He turned his head to meet your gaze, immediately seeing the worry in your eyes.

“Baby… did you just squirt?” Looking down, you saw the wet patch on the bed, your thighs feeling wetter than usual. You had just squirted for the first time with your boyfriend. As the realisation hit you, you turned to look at Namjoon, searching for his reaction. You were a little embarrassed as this had never happened before, at least not with Namjoon. You did not know how he would react.

Going down, Namjoon pushed your legs apart so he could make himself comfortable between them. He was in awe. Your glistering wet pussy with his cum dripping out of you on display for him. Only for him. You, on the other hand, was still confused, unsure what to say or do.

“Wha…”

“So fucking hot.” Namjoon cut you mid sentence, answering your questions all in one. At his words, you clenched your pussy, the sight of him in between your legs heavenly. As you clenched, a gush of his cum spilled out from you and Namjoon swore at the sight of it, bringing his hand up to your core.

With his index and pointer finger he gathered his cum, only to push it back into your pussy. Fingering you slowly to push it further in. A moan escaping your lips from the overstimulation as you closed your eyes, not being able to do anything else except trying to focus on breathing.

“My princess really came without any stimulation to her clit while I played with her ass and tits? Fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen and on top of that, she also squirted. Baby, I might have to edge you more often now if this is what happens.” You mewl at his words, feeling way too sore, you try to squirm away from him. Namjoon understood right away and removed his fingers from your core, crawling upwards to lay on top of you.

“Is it too much for my little princess?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah Joon… I think I’ve had it for days now,” you joked, and he smiled at you, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you for days after you pulled this stunt?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows as you pouted.

“You had no problem keeping your hands to yourself for a week, think you can handle a few days.” You teased and he scoffed.

“Yeah but only because I was mad at you,” he told you truthfully and you put your arms around his neck, gently playing with the back of his hair.

“And now?”

“Now? Now I can’t get enough of you, gonna make you squirt every day,” he said with a smirk as he got off of you. Getting out of the bed, Namjoon quickly found his boxers and started getting dressed.

“Hey! No, you can’t do that! I won’t allow it!” You shouted as you sat up on the bed, watching as Namjoon made his way over to the bathroom. Upon your words, he stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face you.

“Won’t allow it? Baby you’ll beg me to give it to you. We both know it,” he said with a smirk on his, capturing his lip between his teeth as he thought of the sight to actually get to see you squirt. You exhaled a sharp breath and Namjoon knew he was right when he meets your eyes. Desire burning in them at the thought of you underneath him, begging him to let you cum, to let you squirt.

“Now wait like a good girl while I get some towels to clean you up. You wouldn’t want to disappoint sir again would you?” Shaking your head, you waited patiently as Namjoon went into the bathroom to bring you two towels.

He came back with a one dry and one damp that he began cleaning your thighs and pussy with. You hissed as the cloth went over your clit. Namjoon let out a sigh, planting a kiss on your thigh.

“I’m sorry for punishing you so hard, I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” He sighed, feeling a little bad for edging you for so long.

“I’m okay Joon, I would have told you if it was too much.”

“You didn’t tell me when you faked it.” The silence that filled the room had you biting down on your lip to stop the single tear that wanted to escape your eye. You regretted not telling him so much. If he only knew.

“I know… I’m so sorry, I won’t ever lie to you again. I promise Joon.” You told him truthfully and he looked up at you.

“It’s alright baby, I know you won’t.” He said and you believed him, just as much as he believed you would keep your promise to him. Smiling, Namjoon got up to wrap the dry towel around your body. Holding his hand out for you to take.

“Come on, let’s run you a bath while I change the bedsheets baby.” Smiling, you took his hand in yours, letting him lead you to the bathroom with your legs still slightly shaking.

After filling the bathtub, Namjoon helped you into the tub and you looked up at him with warmth in your eyes.

“Will you join me Joon?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. Loving how he would always cuddle you in the bath, massage your scalp and kiss your neck. He did not always have the time, sometimes he had work to do and you understood that, but you could not help but to be a little selfish today. Hoping he would join you and work overtime tomorrow.

“Of course, I’ll be right back once I’ve changed the sheets.” Namjoon said as he kissed your forehead before leaving the bathroom. Smiling for yourself, you could not believe how lucky you were to have him in your life. Never ever, would you lie to him again, ever.

#bangtanhq #thekimlinenet #smutcentralnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic

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shoichee · 4 years

Text

Star-crossed

[Midorima x Reader]

[Hanahaki!au]

Word Count: 8840

Warning: attempted angst, death

Note: This is my first time writing angst, oh dear. Even after years of bawling over other people’s works, I still have no solid idea on how to create heart-wrenching writing. Here goes though.

»»—————　☼　—————««

“I’m really excited!”

“Ne, ne, I honestly can’t wait to bloom…”

“What kind of flowers would my body grow do you think?...”

You only drone out the incessant bustlings of chattering from your classmates as special health education class ended as you sat there patiently waiting for the next teacher to walk into class to start the next period.

Next is… ah, math…

You sigh, heaving out the bulky textbook out of your bag and drop it on the desk with a thump, making a few students flinch at the near proximity. You lay your elbow on the hardcover, allowing your thoughts to drift away as your fingers gently thrum. This teacher, you knew, was the type to start class unceremoniously late.

It was boring. Everyone already knew about the stage of blooming. It had been incanted incessantly to you by adults around you ever since grade school. Yet, Shūtōku high was one of the many high schools that still insisted in “teaching” the basic knowledge of what’s to come soon.

Maybe these classes don’t teach, but rather, serve as a reminder of the inevitable that all growing teenagers will face sooner or later: blooming.

Some people have already experienced it as soon as they graduated out of middle school; they were called the “early bloomers.” That was one of your closer friends.

So what’s it like? you once asked, turning to your new friend at the time. You said you bloomed…

And you recall her nodding her head fervently.

Yeah! she eagerly replied. While it may be painful at first, it went away after a few weeks for me… it’s not so different like getting a period, you know?... I heard it’s different for everyone, but for me, my heart thumped super loudly! And I get these tingly sensations!...

… It’s just like a sign that you’ve become totally mature!

A frantic clang from the doorway interrupts your train of thought as you eye the expectant teacher, completely out of breath as he tries to arrive on time but completely failing miserably.

Unlike in special health ed, most of the students groan at the thought of continuing the onslaught of derivative lessons. You don’t really care either way and promptly open your textbook to the appropriate page.

As class slowly ticks by, your mind wanders off from the subject of class again, drifting to the constant destination of your recent curiosity of bloomings.

You are what everyone calls a “late bloomer.”

You aren’t the only late bloomer, obviously, but it does make you quite anxious at the fact of potentially being the “last one” in your class, or perhaps out of the entire school.

No one wants to really hang out with a late bloomer; they were often stereotyped as “immature” or “abnormal.” After all, this was a normal stage of life, a sign of growing up out of childhood. No one wants to hang around with someone seen as a “kid.”

A soft cough pulls you from your daydreaming as you subtly glance at the desk to your left. It was a classmate of yours, as well as an acquaintance.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying to not bring attention to yourself. “... Are you okay?”

She gives a quiet clearing of her throat before she nods, hand still pressed against her lips. She then shakes her head side to side, her long hair swaying slightly with the motion.

“Ah, don’t worry about me getting sick,” you quietly reassure. “But you should really go to the nurse’s after. Have you tried tying your hair up? I heard doing so can help cool off and keep a clearer head…”

She cautiously drops her hand back to her desk before giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“Thank you, (l/n-san). I’ll be fine.”

“(l/n).”

“Yes!” You stand up from your desk the moment the teacher calls on you, relieved at the fact that he didn’t seem to notice your hushed conversation.

“Could you please come up to the board to solve this problem…?”

---------

Lunch time is always the time you come out of class to search for Takao. As you walk briskly in the hallways, you try to avoid staring at everyone’s floral tattoos located at the side of their necks, imprinted underneath the canopies of their jaws. Each individual’s flower mark showcased what their bodies grew during their stages of blooming.

And each plant was unique to the individual. They could represent their personality, their prospective future, what their future soulmate would be like… anything goes, and every student constantly gossips about what the other’s marks would exactly mean.

You, markless, walk faster, hoping that no one would spot you and flit their eyes to your blank neck… although everyone at school already knows those who have still yet to bloom.

You envy them.

“(y/n)-chan!!” Takao waves you over when you enter the cafeteria. “Over here!”

You briefly scan the tables before you spot him, begrudgingly noticing his pink hyacinth at the crook of his neck, even though you’re happy for him that he passed that stage of his life.

Pink hyacinths… they symbolized playfulness.

You would know; not only did special health classes painstakingly educate students since young for the anticipation of blooming, you took the extra effort of researching many more flowers on your own time, patiently abiding your time to have a striking plant engraved onto you one day.

As you carry your tray and slide into your seat, you finally notice a grumbling greenhead besides Takao.

“Shin-chan! So you do care about having a flower mark after all, eh?”

That’s right, huh. Midorima, too, was markless.

Just like you.

“Your assumptions are getting ridiculous, Takao.”

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that when your eyes always land on people’s necks when you talk to them—pfffft—” He breaks out into guffaws as he clutches his stomach helplessly, which cued Midorima into reaching for the point-guard in an attempt to strangle him.

Pink hyacinths are perfect for someone like Takao. You couldn’t help but let a smile slip from your lips.

“Whoaa!!” Takao peers over to you, ignoring his predicament of being restrained to death by Midorima. “(y/n)-chan! You should smile more!—ow!”

“Worry about yourself first,” he scowls, before tentatively letting him go with a defeated sigh. He opts to hold his lucky charm for the day (a terracotta pot).

“Shintarou-san,” you call out to him, after several minutes of comfortable silence as all three of you ate your lunches. “What do you think your flower would be?”

“Man proposes, God disposes. As long as I always provide everything to maximize my opportunities and follow the order of fate, I do not need to worry about such baseless things.”

You mildly snicker at his typical response. “Is that so, horoscope man.”

“Why waste time worrying about something that’s not in your hands?” He pushes up his glasses with his taped hand. “You should be focusing on what you can do as of now, nanodayo.” When he finishes, he looks up from his lunch to glance at you, noticing your widened eyes.

“Ah…” you stare at him at a loss for words, caught off guard at the fact that he sounded… almost concerned for you. “I’ll keep it in mind, Shintarou.”

“There’s no way that’s our Shin-chan!” Takao rushes to try to feel Midorima’s forehead. “That’s way too good of an advice to be you—”

“Shut up—get off of me—!”

As the two basketball players struggle in each other’s vice grips, they fail to notice the ruddy color having its own moment of blooming onto your cheeks.

---------

“... and what this means, class, is that having your first love is a monumental sign of blooming. That being said, having to experience love for the first time does not automatically guarantee blooming. This natural phenomena is still being studied by scientists around the world. What’s also interesting is that we humans are the only ones with this unique…”

More basic information? You yawn, covering your mouth in hopes no one notices, but as you look around you, your classmates are too engrossed in the lecture to even pay attention to anything else.

Of course they’d pay attention. It’s a special event that will happen to everyone at some point; even though you were sure they all already knew the information to heart, you knew they would take any opportunity to learn more about themselves in any way. You don’t blame them, however. You’re curious about your own body’s idiosyncrasies of not blooming yet.

“... Lies.” You snap your head to the source of the quiet remark to see your classmate on your left, arms crossed on the desk with a minimal scowl on her face.

Noticing your piercing stare, she turns to you before widening her eyes at realizing that she was heard. She abruptly turns her face to the front of the class, trying to pass off the act of suddenly paying attention to the teacher.

You turn your head to face the front as well but you still glance to your left from time to time.

“Are you feeling better?...” you hesitantly whisper.

Not expecting you to show concern, she jumps in her seat before eyeing you warily. As soon as she decides that you were merely concerned, she gives a polite nod and a smile.

“It was just a little flu I caught… Thank you for worrying about me. I’m just a sickly person but I thankfully recover very quickly.”

And with that, she ends the conversation with you to finally genuinely pay attention for the rest of class.

You try to do the same, but you feel knots of lead settling in your stomach.

… Lies?

What was that about?

---------

“(y/n)-chan! Wanna come and watch our practices today?”

You were stopped in the hallways by a grinning Takao, with a trailing Midorima not too far behind with a bundle of faux peacock feathers.

You’re not too sure if you should be concerned with a clinging Takao on your arm and attempting to kidnap you or a stoic Midorima displaying around a ridiculous souvenir.

“Huh? W-why?”

“You’re obviously free right now, obviously.”

“That doesn’t make sense—wah!”

Before you can put any further word in, Takao is dragging you to the gym, with an exasperated Midorima being figuratively pulled along with you two as well.

“Here we are, (y/n)-chan!” Takao ushers you beyond the gym doors and indicates the bleachers for you to sit and watch.

“You really think I’m going along with all of this, Kazu?”

“I know you better than anyone.”

“No you don’t,” you frown, turning away from him with a huff.

“Takao.”

Takao immediately gulps at the call of his name from Midorima and both you and him turn around to see a particularly hostile green-haired person.

“Sorry, sorry! Please don’t hit me!” And Takao races to the lockers in an attempt to escape from his fury.

Midorima relaxes his stance after he leaves and turns to you.

“Thanks, Shintarou.”

“I wasn’t doing it for you,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “He was just being more troublesome than usual.” But the way he clumsily handled his frames told a different story to you.

You laugh at him. “If you insist, Shintarou-san.”

“R-right…”

“Hey! Shin-chan!” Takao yells from the opposite side of the gym. Get over here! Captain is coming!”

At the captain being mentioned, Midorima straightens up before jogging over to warm up.

You suppose you can watch their practice this evening.

---------

You’ve never seen anyone handle a basketball like that.

What the hell? His range was damn near impossible.

You were thankful that you allowed Takao to drag you over to the gym to watch. Otherwise, you would’ve never learned about this side of Midorima.

Wait… Midorima?

No, you shake your head. It’s only because it was a lot more interesting than all of your classes, that’s all.

You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, yet every time your eyes land on Midorima’s shooting form, your mind goes blank.

You were absolutely captivated… not that you would ever admit it though.

---------

“... scientists are still doing social experiments on the blooming stage of humans. You may be wondering, if it’s been a part of societies for thousands of years, why are we studying it? Well, during old times, they were often explained using myths and folk stories…”

It really sucked that special health ed class was a mandatory requirement for all first-years. All of this was old news to you still.

“... new recent findings came out that answered the everlong question of whether the bloomings can actually be dangerous for humans, and how dangerous.”

Oh? That was new. But you suppose there was no way they’d tell little kids about the possibilities and risks with bloomings.

“Obviously, we know it can be fatal, just like pregnancies going awry and such. While we don’t know the exact mortality rate, researchers are trying to develop new medicines to curb away the potential amount of deaths associated with bloomings. But other scholars suggest not to drain precious resources into medicine development when they can use it for more pressing medical issues, and I know many of you believe this as well. Their take on this issue is that ‘blooming is something that should not be tampered with and the success of bloomings rely solely on the individual’s abilities and willpower to come of age since it’s unique to every person’...”

Unique… He was right. Even the signs and symptoms of a blooming vary greatly for everyone. The only thing everyone had in common was that their bodies grew plants. Even the way plants grow vary from person to person. That’s what they taught since the very beginning.

“... since blooming is unique to every individual, creating a standard medicine and procedure for all would be impossible, or at the very least inaccessible due to high expenses in accommodating medicine for every patient.”

Most of the students in the room nod in fervent agreement, and pretty soon, the room was filled with chattering at the new information they took in.

You glance to your classmate on your left again but you were surprised to see that her seat was empty.

Was she not here from the start?

You sigh and chide yourself for not noticing at the beginning of homeroom, but quickly dismiss the casual thought for more immediate problems like your upcoming exam for chemistry in a few periods.

Ah, oh well.

---------

“If you’re looking for Takao, forget it. He’s in detention for causing a disruption for one of the teachers last period.”

“Sh-shintarou?!” You whirl around to find Midorima alone with his bear plush. “You’re not at practice?”

“We practice tomorrow.”

“I see,” you say, not knowing how to continue the conversation from here.

“I guess I’ll be going home early then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you try to walk past Midorima, he sidesteps quickly to block your pathway, and you walk right into him before stepping back out of embarrassment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—!”

“(y/n).” He averts his eyes while sliding up his glasses. “You’re walking home alone?”

Still in a state of flusters, you promptly nod your head as you stare down at your shoes.

“Come. We better get going before it gets too late. Cancers will have unlucky encounters after dusk.” Midorima jerks his head to the direction of the exit, motioning for you to follow before he turns on his heel and walks away.

“Sh-shintarou?”

“I-it’ll only be… troublesome if something were to happen.” He stops walking and looks back at you. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up.”

“R-right. Coming!”

---------

It wasn’t completely unexpected that the walk home would have an awkward atmosphere between the two of you. Usually, Takao would be the social “buffer” and the proxy between you two, but now that he was out of the picture, neither of you knew how to strike up a casual conversation. That was more of Takao’s specialty.

“... I’ve thought about what you said.” At his voice, you turn to look up at his contemplative face. You give him an inquisitive look to encourage him to continue his thought. “... Although I’m not so certain what kind of plant I would grow. Not even the Oha Asa could predict it.”

“Ah, I see…” You turn your face to face the front as you gaze at the sunset ahead. “Are you afraid of the uncertainty?” At your question, he falls silent, giving you the confirmation that he was, indeed, scared.

“Shintarou,” you murmur. “You’re not alone in feeling the uneasiness of blooming.”

“Wha—I never said anything about blooming, nanodayo—”

“Sure,” you interject. “Well, for me, I really hope I’d get a gorgeous flower, a flower so breathtaking that would make everyone stop in their tracks to admire the mark. I want to change those stares of pity and disdain into those of admiration and envy…” You can tell he’s hanging onto your every word despite the fact that he wasn’t facing you, his steps slowing down ever so slightly to be as close to you to hear what you had to say without deeming it suspicious.

“I envy Takao… a lot,” you sigh, and Midorima turns his head slightly to you at the mention of Takao’s name. “He already has a flower mark and he’s so put-together despite his cheerfulness… He’s really reliable.”

“I see.”

“... and the truth is, I’m really scared. I feel like I’m going to be the last person to ever get a mark. I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, with my body—”

He stops in his tracks.

“That’s a foolish line of thought.”

You turn to face him, ready to glare at him, but you stop when you make eye contact, startled at the intensity of his gaze. You swear you can see your figure reflected in his viridian irises. A few seconds of suffocating silence crawl by, and you break away eye contact, intimidated by his gaze and the possible implication of his words.

“Sorry about that.”

He says nothing in return.

The rest of the walk home became even more uncomfortable, with Midorima walking slightly ahead and you making a wordless effort to constantly match his stride.

You don’t know why, but seeing his taut back to you squeezes your heart ever so slightly, the mute badumps ever feeling like a constant dull sore.

“Shintarou…” you softly call out after you arrive at your house. The sun had left the horizon shortly before you arrived at your destination. “Thank you for walking me home, and… sorry, it looks like it’s past dusk now, but will you be able to get home safely?”

“Fool,” he huffs. “I have my lucky charm to compensate for my misfortune today.”

You smile at him, relieved at the thought that maybe that moment before was all just your overthinking.

“Of course, Shintarou.”

---------

It was hard looking at Midorima without losing your cool from that point on. It wasn’t like the two of you did anything out of the ordinary yesterday, excluding the fact that he volunteered to walk you home. But you knew he just cared for you in his own way, as a friend.

As a friend.

“(y/n)-chan!” Takao tries to pounce on you, pulling your cheeks apart. “What’s with the nasty frown on your face? Didn’t I tell you that you should smile more?”

“Shtop—pawling—Takow—!”

As he laughs at your stretched face from his pulling, you manage to pry his hands off of your cheeks and take refuge behind the sour-faced shooting guard. “Shintarou! Save me from Takao!”

“Takao, come here.” He gave a harsher punch to his head than usual, and Takao did not fail to comment on it.

“Sheesh, that hurt even more, Shin-chan? What did I do?—oh, ohhhhhhh.” His grimace lit up to an expression of realization and mischievousness. “I see.”

“Your antics are getting more and more preposterous. If you have that much energy, you should expend it during practice, nanodayo.”

“Right, right, Shin-chan!” He waves Midorima off before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “But (y/n)-chan, don’t think you're off the hook just yet!”

You can only sigh as he dramatically waggles his finger at you while Midorima clicks his tongue, opting to walk to his classroom instead.

“H-hey! Don’t leave me behind!”

And with that, the duo disappeared right before the warning bell rang.

---------

You sense an uncharacteristic aura of hostility directed at you right when you entered class, but you shake your head before plopping at your designated seat. As much as you try to mind your own business, the hostility you felt peaked even more. You glance around before your eyes fall on your classmate to your usual left.

She was silently seething, but particularly at you.

“Is… something the matter?” You shot her a worried look. “You were gone yesterday, right? Did your flu kick up again?”

“What’s with you?”

“Pardon?”

“Why do you care so much for me? I never asked for it.”

“Wh-what? I’m just worried? Did I say something wrong?”

“You are—”

“I am?”

And the bell rang with such convenient timing to interrupt the two of you.

“It’s nothing. Forget it.”

And class started without a further word from her, and as lectures progress, you peek over to her desk to see her never looking your way. The least you do, you decide, is to try to apologize and talk to her afterschool.

“... a revolutionary finding was published all over the news yesterday regarding bloomings. He proposed the most controversial proposition yet: bloomings neither affect the human body’s growth and maturity physiologically nor psychologically and that these ‘effects’ from blooming are merely all placebo. His conclusions have caused an uproar in the world of scholarship, but what I want for you students to do is to write an in-class paper about your reaction to these potential revelations…”

You sit up straight, and for the first time, you listen to his lessons with utmost attention. Your mind racing, you rush to grab a suitable pencil before you start to write your thoughts for the assignment. You peer over to your classmate to see her already writing furiously. You do the same.

She was the first student to screech the chair as she stood up, daintily holding the paper to bring it to the front desk.

All you could discern from her paper, even despite the neat writing, was:

I am ultimately relieved.

---------

“W-wait! Please!” You dash out of the classroom, trailing after your classmate who hightailed it out as soon as possible.

“Leave me alone already!” she heaves over her shoulder, willing her legs to run even faster.

“Your… homework! I have to give… work that you… missed!” And you had relatively no problem speeding up to match her pace.

“Can you just stop following me?! I can just get it from my teachers! What’s your deal?!”

“I want to apologize—!” But before you can finish your sentence, your classmate drops onto her knees, clasping her mouth in complete desperation. “H-hey! What’s wrong?!”

She wheezed into her palms before she got up and ran again before you could completely catch up to her.

She busted open the main doors and ran into the secluded areas of the school courtyard, hoping to lose your trail of her, but as soon as she turned from looking behind her shoulder to the front again, you managed to cut her way off.

“Your… homework…” you gasp for air, shakily handing her the papers that were clenched in your hand.

The next thing you register are splatters of blood on the sheets. And your classmate desperately holding her coughs in.

“Hey!...” You hold her frame, slowly dropping the two of you onto the ground in kneeling positions to try to ease the burden on her body, soiled papers already discarded to the side.

Cough. “Don’t—” Cough. “Fucking—” Cough. “Touch me…”

As she spoke, her hands loosen up their grip against her mouth, but as soon as she did, petals and buds cascaded from her lips. Which were all soaked in blood.

“I…” You dumbly look at the pile of flowers in front of her. You couldn’t even tell what type of flowers they were from all the blood. “You’re blooming?” You always thought she already did.

She slaps your hand, which was on her shoulder the entire time, before tucking her strands behind her ear to prevent them from being further drenched in crimson.

Her neck, being exposed for the first time, was blank.

“C-congratulations!” You say, holding both her shoulders this time with excitement. “You’re—!”

Slap.

The sound resonated through the area, which luckily was mostly empty. Your face pulsates with a stinging heat.

“I’m fucking dying!” She stands up shakily from her kneeling position. “How could you say such an awful thing—I’m dying, I’m fucking dying…”

You can only stare at her in shock from her being so volatile for the first time since you met her, or the fact that she said such a morbid thing.

“I don’t… I don’t understand—?”

“I’m sick!” she seethes, her throat struggling to choke out words. Tears run silently down her agonized face, diluting the thick blood smeared across her face.

“I’m so sorry…! I didn’t know your flu was this ba—”

“You’re the reason why I’m dying,” she hoarsely spat.

The silence was so palpable that even the labored breathing from her was unnaturally loud.

“What? Why me?”

“I…” she hesitates, before dropping to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to—it’s not your fault, I…

… I’m so scared.” Hiccup. “There isn’t any medicine to help me…”

You hand her a tissue from your bag to try to clean up the bloody mess off of her, but before you can dab the tissue to her face, she gingerly grabs your wrist.

“I… love Takao.”

What? You held your breath, anticipating to hear what she’d say next.

“But he rejected me not too long ago. I thought I could get over him and be done with blooming relatively quickly but…” She pointedly looks at you. “Whenever he’s so close to you, especially as of late… my heart hurts. It hurts, it hurts so badly and I don’t know, and then I just start coughing more, and more, and more.”

“It’s just a stage of life,” you insist. “Maybe your case is the most extreme, but—”

“Oh, stop it already,” she snarls. “You still believe in whatever they feed you about this ‘blooming’? It’s a disease, for fuck’s sake.” She tries to get up again. “I thought… I could be friends with you because you were the only one who wasn’t being sucked into their rhetorics… guess I was wrong.”

You were still on your knees when you tried to stretch out your hand to her, but retracted it after seeing her stumble away from you. But as she did so, she hacked out a new bouquet of flowers, but this time, you could see tiny white flowers rimmed with pale blue.

Morning glories…

They meant unrequited love.

“(y/n)...?” she softly asked, for the first time using her usual mild-mannered tone of voice with you today. She disregarded the mess of petals she made around her, appearing to be accustomed to the unsettling sight.

“... yes?”

“Do you love Takao?”

“I would never see him that way.”

“That’s… good to hear…” She gives you a defeated close-eyed smile.

“Wait… you still need to get cleaned up.”

You got up on your feet to try to guide her face your way to wipe off, and as you try to scrub the dried clots of blood away, she manages to croak a laugh.

“I thought that you were trying to rub it in my face about Takao the entire time whenever you talked to me… I was so wary of you, I was so blinded…” You silently listen as you pour your water bottle over the next tissue.

“Do you know why teens in particular have to pay attention to when they’ll bloom?”

“No…” You furrow your brows, already reevaluating about everything you supposedly already knew about blooming. “I don’t.”

“Teens are more likely to have their first love than any other person. If they can overcome their first unrequited love… that would mean… they are ready to apparently to survive and carry on with their lives…

… tell me… am I not good enough to be alive? I can’t even get over—”

You only hush her as you scrub away the last remnants of blood from her skin. Her clothes were unfortunately already stained.

“That’s the best I could do,” you quietly say. “Please get home as soon as possible. And take care of yourself.”

“The paper we had today in class… When our teacher talked about the new findings of blooming research, I was so happy. But looking around class, no one seemed to share the same sentiments. Even still, I am glad about the possibility that one day, we’d stop emphasizing so much on these marks…

“Although I wish I made the attempt to become closer friends with you sooner, I have no regrets now… I’m so glad you’re here…

“I feel so relieved…”

---------

The next day of school, you had an ominous feeling settled within the pits of your stomach. You come to school early, deciding to sit at your desk the entire time and reading to pass the time. You did not feel like talking to your happy-go-lucky friend and his grumpy pet, as much as you usually enjoy their company.

Ever so often, you would glance at the clock and wish for it to come faster.

The bell eventually rings and most of the students crowd into the classroom into their seats. The homeroom teacher promptly follows after and puts her bag onto the front desk. But the seat to your left… was empty.

“Everyone… I have some unfortunate news to share,” she solemnly says. No, no, no… it can’t be.

Your mind goes blank as you stare at the teacher, vaguely reading her lips as one thing went in and out the other ear.

“... she unfortunately passed away. She wasn’t able to bloom.”

Your heart, already struggling to keep afloat on the last shreds of optimism, sank.

“Wha…? She’s gone?”

“That’s such a pity…”

“She was in our class? Since when?”

“Yikes, she wasn’t even able to bloom? That sucks for her, honestly.”

You stare blankly at your desk, not registering the fact that the special health ed class teacher took over the class after homeroom.

The whispers around the gossiping students only serve as a cruel reminder that late bloomers did not get any sympathy from others.

You needed to bloom, and fast.

---------

You only manage to exit out of class and find the cafeteria out of pure muscle memory, but your mind constantly goes back to yesterday evening with her. Were you the last person she got to speak with before she died? Was she scared? Did she truly die happy? You will never get to know.

You stop before the cafeteria doorway, inhaling and exhaling to bring your conscience back into the present day, and slowly stroll in. Takao and Midorima were already deep in conversation, so you stop, waiting for the perfect opportunity to join them.

“Shin-chan, have you heard?” Takao says, holding up his fork. “A student our year died from blooming.”

“It’s not in my matters to worry about, although I would like to give her family my condolences.” Midorima takes his time to cut his patty cleanly with a knife.

“It must suck though, to think this would happen… isn’t it a bit sad, Shin-chan?”

“It’s easily preventable, nanodayo.” He chews a small piece before continuing. “I would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love. I’d rather be markless than fall in love.”

He would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love…

He would’ve never made such a mistake…

He would’ve never fallen in love.

And certainly not with you.

Your heavy heart spikes in a pulse. Your heart was now racing for the wrong reasons. Those dull sores were now nothing compared to the incessant squeezing on your heart. And it won’t let up. You try to steady your breathing to calm yourself but your intake of air almost feels as if it’s being cut off.

You feel as if you can’t breathe.

You step back a couple steps before you dash to the nearest restroom, ignoring the stares of a few students around you.

“Speaking of the girl, wasn’t she in (y/n)-chan’s classroom? I actually haven’t seen her around today.”

“Takao, let me eat in peace.”

“Sheesh, you’re such a downer, Shin-chan.”

---------

You not being able to breathe was not just figuratively.

You ran to the restroom up on the 3rd floor, where you knew it was always mostly empty. You opened the door of the furthest stall and locked yourself in before you tried to heave whatever was blocking your airway.

1… 4… 7… 8 fern leaves—fronds—were choked out in a string of forced wheezes. They all floated seemingly innocently on the water of the toilet bowl.

Your body trembles, not able to take the sudden physical burden on it.

You should be happy, you really should. This was what you wished and prayed for all these years. But whatever you coughed out wasn’t even pretty-looking; hell, it wasn’t even a flower.

“I’d rather be markless…”

With Midorima’s words playing back to back in your head like a broken record, your lungs had the visceral reaction to gasp for more air before throwing up the rest of the leaves. It took the rest of lunch for you to stand up properly and collect yourself before you headed back to class.

You wished and you wished for your blooming to come, but now that your signs became apparent, you suddenly don’t want to bloom.

---------

Classes became harder to focus on, especially with the persistent dull stabs echoing in your heart. You feel that this pain was being constantly amplified and spread to the rest of your body.

You’re tired already, and it was only the initial stages.

School finished before you even knew it. Maybe it was because of the constant distraction your pain provided. A benefit from this new situation, if you were trying to be hopelessly optimistic, is that you wouldn’t be bored anymore at least.

You walk out of class in a slight daze, loosely scanning your surroundings until your eyes land on Takao and Midorima, although your gaze lingered on Midorima longer than you want to admit.

You hate this. The moment you figured that you fell in love with him was also the moment you learned that it was unrequited. If that wasn’t the unluckiest thing that ever happened to you, you don’t know what else is.

As you walk towards them, you toy with the idea of carrying around lucky items and taking Midorima’s advice in doing whatever you can to make your life easier (especially as of late), but you decide against it, trying not to dig your own grave by purposely doing things that reminded you of the green-haired boy even more.

“Kazu! Shintarou!” You casually wave over to them, masking the pain you felt at the sharp jabs you felt every so often in your chest.

“Oh? There you are,” Takao walks to your side to drop his arm on your shoulder. “Where you been, (y/n)-chan?”

“Been busy with… assignments and school.”

“Ah, well that can’t be helped. Speaking of busy, our captain is upping our practices, so we’re going to be gone a lot of the times.”

“No, no, don’t worry about me, just focus on basketball,” you say. “After all, that’s what you’re most passionate about. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You sure are understanding,” he laughs as he ruffles your hair. “But so—wah? Shin-chan, where are you going? Don’t leave me behind, damn it!”

Midorima won’t even speak with you…

“Seeyah! Nice seeing you!”

“Yeah… bye, Takao and… Shintarou…” By the time you spoke Midorima’s name, it barely came out as an audible whisper.

Somewhere within your heart, you hoped to be able to speak with Midorima but you wonder if he’s avoiding you on purpose.

As you walk home, alone, you think about the conversation you and Midorima had when he walked with you.

Had you misinterpreted Midorima in thinking that he wanted to bloom?

Was Midorima not the type to even want a mark?

In the end, were you just projecting your own desires and insecurities onto him?

The more you think, the more you realize how little you truly know about him. Right on cue, your windpipe constricts and spasms, signalling for you to find something to throw up in.

The nearest trash can was sufficient, and besides, no one was out in the streets to see a pitiful you hacking out with atrocious noises in an attempt to coax the leaves out. You pant in an attempt to calm your breathing, noticing the small spots of blood already staining dots on the vibrant fronds. Viscous blood mixed with your saliva hangs precariously from your lips, waiting to separate and fall into the bin with the leaves.

Your hands, grasping the trash can’s rims, shake in trying to hold your body up. And they tremble harder when you squint your eyes to start sobbing.

Your thick tears managed to fall into the bin before the ropy strands of blood dangling from your lips.

---------

You decide to spend most of your free time, at home and at school, researching about blooming beyond what your education system fed you. At school, you properly utilize the library, scouring every book on the subject you could find. But you weren’t surprised to see only books that talked about topics that were already covered in class.

Your fervid research took your mind off of Midorima, which subsequently stalled your stage of blooming.

You were going to start at the foundation of blooming: what exactly was it?

While the question is still being debated among the top scientists in the country, you took it upon yourself to try to come with an answer for yourself. For all you were concerned with, everything you thought you knew about blooming felt like an intricately-woven lie.

All the theorizing in your mind halted when you coincidentally found Midorima in one of the library sections.

“Sh-shintarou…?”

At your voice, he jumps out of his skin and then freezes. “What are you doing here?... Don’t you have practice?”

“Obviously I do, nanodayo…” he mutters, sliding his glasses up. You hate that you’ve noticed his habits even before you fell for him, but now that you did, you were even more hyper aware of everything he does. “But they insisted I rest for the actual games.”

“... while the others continue practice like normal?”

He ignores your question as he turns around to walk away. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be going.”

“W-wait!” You unconsciously grab the back of his uniform shirt. Shit.

He turns around, eyeing you and waiting what you had to say.

“Well, I… I have to go home—right now! And well, since Takao is at practice I was wondering if you—”

He frowns before calmly replying. “No.”

No?

He leaves.

You stand there completely devastated. You don’t know whether to be furious at him and hate him to get over your pain or to do nothing but collapse against the bookshelf and silently cry your heart out.

You did the latter.

---------

The more you think about your unrequited love, the faster you will bloom. The faster you overcome and mature, the faster your blooming will pass. That’s what the books say.

But if you think about them more, isn’t that just a first-row ticket to accelerating to your death? Perhaps your late classmate was right in which blooming wasn’t something to boast about.

Your eyes have been puffy for days, although you mask it quite well with skincare and a dab of concealer. Nonetheless, you still look unwell and unnaturally pale at other parts of your face.

Your other classmates don’t pay attention to you, and for once, you’re grateful that your markless status helped you in flying under everyone’s radar.

You think you’re getting delusional. To ease your own pain during class, you now make it a little hobby to come up with different scenarios in how you would be saved from this.

What if you stop coming to school for a few weeks to see if anyone notices that you went missing?

What if you collapse in the hallway while walking with your friends and then Midorima panics and confesses his undying love for you?

What if an earthquake hit the bustlings of Tokyo and you were one of the only students who couldn’t be rescued by professionals and you were trapped because of your blooming body—and then maybe perhaps Midorima—

“(y/n).”

“Y-y-yes?” You immediately stand up without missing a beat.

“Could you read the passage from lines 37 to 49?...”

“Yes!...”

This was stupid. What were you even thinking at this point?

Honestly, your best option was to do everything in your power to get over Midorima and get your long-deserved mark.

---------

It’s been a couple of days.

While you still fantasize a few “damsel in distress” scenarios sometimes, you feel numb in a good way; your body was accustomed to the dull thuds, so you don’t even feel them as much anymore, and your mind has been clearer ever since the passing of your acquaintance, but at this point, you’re more inclined to call her your friend. You still hacked up a few ferns, though.

You decide to visit her grave on the weekend, which was freshly dug and cemented; it’s been a few weeks since her passing after all. As stupid as it sounded, you got her morning glories. Her spirit might hate you for constantly reminding her the cause of her death, but it’s the only flower that truly reminds you of her, and the only flower that made such an impact on you.

You pay your respects and spend the afternoon with her, murmuring how she was right after all and now it was your turn to finally go what she went through. You also talk about how Takao was doing, and how Shūtōku was competing right now against the big schools. You affectionately rub her gravestone before you leave.

You happen to pass by the stadium of where the esteemed Winter Cup was being held. That was where your team was competing wasn’t it?

You stop, however, when you see a particular greenhead near, with an unfamiliar blonde… and a pink-haired girl, a gorgeous one at that.

Thump… thump… thump…

You were supposed to be over him. You weren’t supposed to care about his affairs. But you saw him being so casual with her while she was holding a baby husky, you suddenly felt as helpless as the you back in the cafeteria, at the doorway, when you heard what Midorima said.

You already told your late friend that you got over Midorima. The last thing you wanted to do now was to end up lying to her that you never did.

You tear your eyes away and bolt, tears blurring your vision as you run in the general direction to where you thought was your home. You hoped that your parents were still at work, because you did not have the courage to tell them that you were a disappointment because you couldn’t even do the bare minimum of blooming. And you certainly hoped her spirit wasn’t following you somehow, because you didn’t want to be the reason for her suffering again, as unreasonable as it sounded.

By the time you arrived at your gates, you couldn’t control the resurfacing of ferns from your lungs as you felt the blood spilling in bursts with the leaves, along with the loud hiccups and desperate wails that escaped from your body. You had left a visible trail of complementary colors of red and green. But you didn’t care. Guilt and rejection wracked your body to the point beyond properly functioning.

Despite the muddy colors that fill your vision, you manage to clumsily use the keys to enter into your house, but walking beyond those gates proved to be more troublesome as those muddy colors soon became even hazier and your legs wobbled weaker. You stumbled and tripped and slipped yet you made the effort to get back up again. You knew you were going to have to hide the dark bruises that formed from you constantly crashing… and probably come up with excuses if you couldn’t obscure all of them. You beg your body to make it to your room at the very least.

I’ll… just sleep it off… it’ll all be okay… I’ll wake up, and everything will just be a dream… a dream…

You collapse onto the floor of the living room, your house door still completely open from moments before.

It must be your room’s bed, right? How else would it explain why you felt so at ease right now?

You feebly choke, too lethargic to even hold up a hand to stop the contents of your blooming from spilling all over the floor.

Ah… won’t they be mad when they’d get back from home?... Maybe you should clean up your bed.

But a short nap sounds heavenly at the moment, and your body has the same idea, your heart relaxing and easing up on the painful thuds for the first time in a while.

You peacefully flutter your eyes, registering amongst the haze the brilliant shade of greens the fern exhibited, which truly reminded you of the person who ultimately could not return your love back… a true sight for sore eyes like yours.

“Sh… ta… rou…”

You vaguely felt your throat tickling from the inside before you lost complete consciousness.

The fern that represented eternal youth… new life… new beginnings… even until the end, you could not comprehend why your body decided to grow ferns.

The sight on the floor was eerily ethereal. Your face was completely serene as your lips were parted by long, elegant ferns emerging from your esophagus, watered by fresh crimson. Your body looked like it was made to be a delicate, asymmetrical vase for the newly-sprouted foliage. There was nothing but silence, save for the wall clock’s ticking that signaled your death.

---------

“Midorin? What’s wrong?” Momoi tilted her head up at Midorima, who started to palpitate. “Did the games pump you up?”

“Obviously not.” He glanced at her pointedly before he excused himself.

“H-uh? Hold up—Midorin!”

At her voice, he took longer strides to outpace, even lose, her, and he sharply made a turn to a deserted area behind the stadiums. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe—

A cough. Two coughs. Then his floodgates bursted, with a yellow petal fluttering into his hand before he coughed up the rest of the hyacinth flower, its scent steeped in the headache-inducing odor of metal.

The yellow hyacinth… while the pink hyacinth tattooed on Takao meant playfulness, his own flower meant jealousy.

The first time he felt it was when Takao dragged you to the gym and proclaimed that he knew you better than anyone. His own heart thrashed in its place at the sight of Takao being so confident and easygoing around you. While beating Takao managed to subdue his inner pain, a seed of doubt was still inevitably planted within.

The second time he felt a stronger wave of envy was when he saw you patiently waiting for Takao to come out of his class.

The third time he felt his heart do an awful kick in his upper rib cage was when he heard you spoke so highly of Takao as he walked you home. No matter how much he tried to get close to you, he knew he could never outdo Takao socially. The fact that he could only get as close as he did to you was indirectly thanks to Takao. He was silent that evening, his mind swirling from the self-hatred and jealousy of his innate friendliness to everyone… especially you.

You both ironically envied Takao for different reasons.

As soon as he waited for you to safely enter your house, he widened his eyes as his throat started to twitch. Clasping his lucky item, he bolted to the nearest grass area outside a fence to barf up his umpteenth whole hyacinth flower, with crushed petals and stems.

That’s when he knew that not even the Oha Asa could not save him from this, not unless he took a different approach.

He hated it. He could not emphasize it any further than that. The way you allowed Takao to get so close to you, the way he saw how Takao knew what was going on inside his head. He hated yet envied his natural ability to read people.

So what did he do? He only did what he only knew how to do in social situations: walk away.

He’d never admit that he was in love. Certainly not to Takao. He’ll keep denying it to him to the bitter end. He told himself that he would show Takao someday, that he was, without a doubt, more suitable to be by your side.

He wanted to get over his love for you as soon as possible so he could adorn a flower tattoo…

If he did… would you notice him too?

Would he be a man worthy of your love?

Avoiding you broke him in many ways. Every time he did, he kept rethinking about his plan. Was this a good idea?

But being the stubborn person he was, he decided to not budge. He’d figure that the Oha Asa would give him the ultimate blessings for Cancer someday soon, and he could act accordingly then. For now, he figured he should lay low.

He’ll never breathe a word of his blooming to Takao. He didn’t want to be the next person making that same mistake as your classmate, yet here he was, a perfect example of falling for the exact same trap, despite knowing the consequences.

He couldn’t help it. Not if it was you.

Yet, Takao being the sharp point-guard that he was, noticed how Midorima had trouble keeping up during practices. Midorima didn’t know what Takao told the captain, but the next thing he knew, he wasn’t allowed to practice under the pretense of “saving his strength before the games.” As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn’t do much when the captain’s glare pierced through him, daring him to defy the captain’s order. He couldn’t even play basketball anymore in order to distract himself from thoughts of you.

As he continued to think back about all the failed interactions he tried to initiate with you, his lips leaked petal after soaked petal onto the concrete as he propped his forearms and head against the wall.

“Damn it… damn it… damn it…”

He slowly slid his down, his fisted arms and head still against the wall, until he dropped his knees onto the hard floor. He tried to regain his composure, but it was difficult with his knees mushing the bloodied flowers already on the concrete and the fresher flowers ever so continuing to fall on his lap.

He kept hacking up hyacinths blossoms, hoping he could clear his throat and stabilize his breathing again before he could go back into the stadium. Even after nonstop regurgitation, its glaring yellow color kept mocking at his macabre predicament, taunting him to try to stop the flow of its fatal petals.

He slammed his fist against the wall. He had to tough it out… how else could he ever face you?

But the strength of his wall pounding told a different story. It lacked physical strength even with his unwavering conviction. Midorima was dying. He was dying and he wasn’t even able to have a single thing in his favor.

For the first time, he cursed his fate, cursed the horoscopes, cursed astrology and all the unseen deities in the cosmos for concocting up such a horrible thing for only humans.

“... It’s really frustrating… being like this…”

Midorima gave a final, painful rasp before his body completely slumped, his raised arms going limp at his sides. His body eventually fell onto his side, unable to hold up its own weight without support.

His viscid blood slowly soaked his verdant hair, his orange jersey jacket and sweats, and his golden hyacinths. Warm colors ironically encompassed his ever-growing cold corpse, illustrating a striking yet haunting still-life painting, lying in wait for the next person to discover at the back of the stadium…

#midorima x reader #midorima shintaro #midorima shintarou #midorima shintarou x reader #midorima shintaro x reader #knb #knb x reader #knb scenarios #knb angst #kuroko no basket #takao kazunari

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how-evergreen · 3 years

Text

The Luckiest Person In The Room

Summary: You meet a rather persistent suitor at a Stark party, but Natasha is there to help.

A/N: ok i might rewrite this cus it doesnt have nearly enough natasha in it for my tastes, but its just been collecting dust for a week, so. here we are! ty for the lovely request @teenwonder! i too am a whore for jealous!characters

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, unwanted advances, posessive gf Nat, implied smut at the very end

"I'll have a Martini, please," you said to the bartender, giving her a polite smile. "Dirty."

As she moved off to make your drink, you allowed your eyes to drift across the common floor of the tower. Tony was throwing yet another huge party, full of investors and billionaires and other people who you had no clue what they did. Most of them were total dicks, too.

Combine that with the fact that the team had just gotten off of a mission involving two enhanced individuals and Clint getting shot? Well, put simply, you'd really rather be in bed.

Finally, your eyes caught on her across the room. Red hair falling in soft waves to her shoulders, her beautiful smile as she talked to Steve and Clint – the real smile, the one that made her nose scrunch up, – the designer black and white dress, courtesy of one Tony Stark (or, really, his credit cards)... oh yeah, you were definitely the luckiest person in the room.

You watched as Natasha's eyes drifted in your direction. You rubbed the back of your neck when you realized she'd caught you staring, and felt a sheepish smile creep up at the wink she sent your way.

"Here you go," said a pleasant voice behind you. Turning, you saw the bartender setting your drink on a napkin by your elbow.

"Thank you, ma'am." You smiled at her, taking a sip of the drink as she moved on. Perfectly made.

"Hey, good-looking." A blonde woman you were sure you'd never met before sidled up to you, sliding into the seat next to you. "I'm Izzie."

"Hi." You introduced yourself, shaking Izzie's hand. "Good to meet you."

"You too." Izzie snapped her fingers at the bartender. "Vodka tonic, and make it snappy."

You pursed your lips, but before you could point out Izzie's rudeness, she turned back to you and spoke as if you'd been in the middle of a conversation.

"I'm an actress," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I'm sure you've seen me in something."

You shrugged. "I don't recall. Good for you, though."

Izzie scowled for a moment before recovering, grinning brightly at you. "That's okay!"

You nodded, taking a sip from your martini and desperately wishing you were anywhere else.

"So..." Izzie said, drawing out the word. "What's it like, being an Avenger?"

"It's okay, I guess." You shrugged at her. None of the team made a habit of talking about life as an Avenger – the media still weren't your biggest fans after New York, and anything you said had the potential to be leaked and twisted into something incriminating.

Unfortunately, Izzie didn't seem to take the hint.

"Oh, come on, silly goose! I know there's gotta be more to it!" She leaned closer to you, legs brushing yours and hair in your face as she whispered in your ear. "Promise I won't tell."

You cleared your throat, gently pressing her shoulder until she moved back.

"Afraid there's not," you said, forcing a smile. "Sorry to disappoint."

Izzie pouted, reaching out and resting her hand on your knee. "But it all seems so exciting!"

You felt your smile tighten even more than it already was. Izzie, undeterred, moved her hand to your wrist, walking her fingers up your arm to your shoulder.

"There's gotta be something you can tell me." She tilted her head down, looking up at you through her eyelashes. "For me?"

You shook your head, stepping back. "Sorry, no can do. If you'll excuse me."

You turned, walking away from the bar. You didn't make it far, though, before a hand grasped your wrist. You turned to see Izzie standing there, looking up at you.

"I'm sorry," she said, giving you a flirtatious smile. "Come back. No more shop talk. Just us, getting to know each other better."

She stepped into your space, but you stepped back.

"Listen, you seem nice and all, but I'm not interested." You pulled your wrist from her grasp. "Sorry."

"You will be," Izzie purred, undeterred by your clear statement of disinterest. "Just a five minute conversation?"

"I'm really not interested," you insisted, stepping back. "I have a girlfriend. Who I love. And who I would never cheat on."

"Not even with this?" Izzie dragged a hand down her body, but you kept your eyes resolutely at her smug face. "I don't see your girlfriend anywhere."

"In that case, I'd invest in a pair of glasses if I were you."

You sighed with relief at the sound of Natasha's voice, and couldn't help but smile as she appeared next to you, hand snaking around your waist.

"Hello, my love," you said, kissing her head. Natasha's fingers tightened marginally around your waist as she examined Izzie.

"Hi," she said, tilting her head. "Who's this?"

"Izzie." Bold as brass, the blonde held out her hand towards Natasha. "I'm an actress. Who are you?"

"Natasha Romanoff." Natasha's calculating gaze turned cold. "Ex-SHIELD, ex-KGB, Avenger, can kill you 28 ways in less than three seconds, even without a weapon."

You watched the spark of recognition flash in Izzie's eyes, and she took a step back.

"Right," she said. "Well, it was lovely to meet you, but I should be going. Bye!"

"You know, it's almost funny how quickly she disappeared," you remarked as you lost sight of Izzie.

"You alright?" Natasha asked, turning to face you worriedly. "You looked really uncomfortable."

"Fine," you said honestly. "I was really uncomfortable, she wouldn't leave me the hell alone. But I'm good now that you're here."

"Damn straight." Natasha grinned devilishly. "'Cause you love me."

"You, and only you, baby." You turned to face her more fully, wrapping both your arms around her. "My one and only."

"Damn straight," she repeated, hands coming up to your face as she kissed you passionately. You returned it with equal fervor, party be damned.

"Maybe this isn't the best place for this," Natasha mumbled when you parted for air.

"What, you need to go upstairs and stake your claim?" You grinned. "I could be amenable to that."

And it seemed that was what Natasha had been waiting to hear. She grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the elevator, sending a sultry look over her shoulder.

Oh, yeah. You were definitely the luckiest person in the room.

39 notes · View notes

rurifangirl · 3 years

Note

oc asks💅💅

kayn🌸

If you had to choose a single object to act as a symbol for your oc, what would it be? Why?

kida🌸

How much has your oc traveled? Why is this? Would they like to travel more? Or are they perfectly fine with staying home?

rui🌸

How competitive is your oc? Is every little task something that they can win, or are they just in competitions for the fun of it? Is there anyone they’re most competitive with?

lyva🌸

What is your oc’s immune system like? Are they invincible to illness, or are they compromised completely from the slightest of dirt?

shou🌸

Does your oc do anything “just for the aesthetic”? Or are they completely practical in everything?

qiran🌸

How would you describe your oc’s voice? Do they have an accent? Do you have any voice claims for them?

naexi🌸

What topics does your oc know the most about? Are these obvious or would these be surprising to others?

evelyn🌸

How easy to annoy is your oc? Do they have common pet-peeves or are they stoic in response to everything? What is their reaction if the source doesn’t stop?

myst🌸

How would you describe your oc’s voice? Do they have an accent? Do you have any voice claims for them?

kerei🌸

What topics does your oc know the most about? Are these obvious or would these be surprising to others?

eris🌸

What is your oc’s vocabulary like? Does it match the way they talk? How would you describe their speech?

syndra🌸

What time of day is your oc most awake? What about most tired? Do they get up at the same time every morning without need of an alarm, or is their sleep schedule all over the place?

Ty for asking em my fave Scp 🤍/j

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Kayn💜-

Many things would work for his symbol tbh, Id say either a dog or a schyte?

There's many things he had great connections w, and for someone like him that cares bout litteraly anything and everything that is around him, It would be hard to settle down onto a specifical one.

Writing this, I feel like he'd choose a schyte, cus even though that's probably the least pratical thing he's good in, it's still a part of his character that Is sorta overlooked and probably gotta work on so-

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Kida💮-

She went into far more missions than Kayn ever did, and she did visit many places, other than sometimes resting in South Italy that Is.

She's mainly been used for abroad missions too, until the whole Japan thing started and she had to return back, and even if she stayed lil time there, she has a pin collection of every place, and occasionally shows it to close friends, and did It w Kayn after they got time to get along.

She also got the first pin, which her husband bought for her since she spent almost everything, and that does bring her some nostalgia bout It, in the good and in the bad.

Sometimes when she gets drunk, she'll start ramble bout every single embarassing moment she had there like it's nothin. And even when she'll wake up, Kida wouldn't do anythin to deny It.

Just, proudly stating that she did It.

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Rui💎-

They're mostly chill, kinda in everything, until it gets onto their interests.

They don't really care about being the best in a random task, like if that would change the world of something, but if that meant the safety/getting more gems, then oh boy, ya got the perfect contestant for ya.

But if they could be competitive w anyone, It would be with Naexi.

They just can't even pin point way, it just, is.

And also if you'd tell them that they had to kill someone for gettin a diamond, they'll do It. That's how far and competitive they'd get for It. So in that case, absolutely.

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Lyva📙-

She suffers normally of a morning sickness, and has to take some medication to treat some sounds she had even before getting into the gang, but other than that, she's pretty healthy.

I mean, both compared to the rest of the cast and ignoring some eating problems she had to get through of, but currently, she's doing just fine.

But she does have an allergy for some flowers, so during spring she has kinda an hard time alone.

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Shou🍵-

Like, yeah he does have many traditional outfits, but that's mainly because he's more tied up to his family traditions that, even if they hurt him in the past, he can't let go of.

But, those do look good and he likes wearing these kinds of outfits, so it's fifty fifty.

Though it's safe to say that, the outfit he wears normally isn't really practical, considering in which events he gets into, but for him It doesn't really matter.

Basically just the "be depressed but well dressed".

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Qiran🗡️-

They do have an accent, and probably the most prominent one out of the cast.

Considering they've also been travelling through many different places, learning their coltures and sometimes having to learn their language, Qiran doesn't have a specifical accent, just, a mixture of almost anythin.

Though, if ya could hear them, you'd also get they're Southern, in a way or another.

They also tend to shorten words whenever they can, just to go straight up to the answer.

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Naexi⚛️-

Absolutely almost any folk tail in human's history. They just have been so interested in that for even hundreds of years, she's just deeply sucked into them.

One thing they also really like to do Is revisiting them to their gang, and even clearing up some details in the meanwhile. Or even giving more fun facts, or how she personally interpretetated it.

She doesn't do It often to people, even to those they're close to, and mainly ramble about It to their dolls.

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Evelyn⚙️-

He's mainly the one to bully rather than the bullied, but it's safe to say that if ya could really annoy them, It would be poking their making, or weapons per say.

In the sense that, she's really proud of them, and having those being unrighfully judged onto their eyes is really, REALLY frustrating to see.

Plus, since they're thecnically the least powerful member of the gang, it's normal that they Hide that feeling pretty well, under some teasings to subdoly vent bout It.

So even teasing him about that makes them really annoyed, since you'd 'invade" the space they created for herself.

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Myst🎸-

Honestly, I can't blame myself enough for this, but, just Imagine Rainbow Dash's voice on him.

Yes I'm serious.

Just that energy that voice has onto her, the cracks and just, everything. Naturally It would be toned down by a LOT, considering she hasnt got a voice as childish.

Im not good w describing voices and should work on that tbh, but i hope this voice claim counts 😭😭

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Kerei🔮-

Magic/Spell related topic, since that's what he's most interested. He's got many interests, that can go to many different topics, but he doesn't have as much interest as that.

He knows especially many counter attacks and even some potions to defend himself during a real fight.

In his time w Myst, she helped him learning even more facts and through that, setting free Eris, so that would be It.

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Eris🌑-

It's a normal vocabulary? Like, a polite One for sure, since it's not used to the human world and didn't get enough habits to speak like a normal person would.

They just have that solemn touch to it, y'know?

It does match with how they speak though, even if sometimes they have an hard time understanding Myst's words, since he also likes to throw popular wordings n a little of dialect here and there.

Moon's trying its best.😭

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Syndra⛩️-

She's most awake during the evening, or night that Is, since it doesn't have that much of a good concept of time and will go with anything that goes for her.

Though surprisingly, she's hardly tired, because she doesn't want to seem that weak even to itself, so even if she's gonna be a lil dizzy, she's almost always gonna be there.

Especially to kick some asses >:D

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Tags undercut:

@a-chaotic-dumbass @spoopy-fish-writes @dopesaladlady @nadi-117 @damnfoxx @audre-falrose

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xumos-hoe · 4 years

Note

Hello!! First of all, I really really love your headcanons about the mlqc bois. May I request a hc about MC asking the bois to join her in doing skin care routine (like them wearing face mask). English is not my first language sorry huhu :

AHH TY BABE❤️ honestly, I don’t have much a skincare routine😔🤚

Hope you enjoy babe❤️

MLQC crew join MC in doing her skin care routine

~~~~~~~~

Victor

For someone with hella deep pockets and skin so smooth, you could’ve mistaken it for marble—

Vic doesn’t have much of a skincare routine.

He barks at Goldman to put him down for a facial with his aesthetician every other week—and when it’s simply getting ready for bed or for work, he doesn’t do much other than a simple cleansing wash and MAYBE a couple serums and creams to make up for the eye bags and wrinkles that comes with being the CEO of an entire financial empire.

he just got the good genetics😔

He’s more than a little intrigued when you first move in and unpack your e n t i r e skincare collection—which must’ve amounted to fifty different creams, cleaners, serums, toners, and masks of all different ingredients and usages.

You daily routine involved a different combination of each item and was much more elaborate than he could’ve ever imagined.

In fact, you hog up the bathroom for so long, he’s resorted to using the guest bathroom multiple times

So one night, you finally catch a glimpse Victor Li’s skincare routine—and to say you’re shocked is a severe understatement...

because how can his skin look so good with so little ROUTINE?????

Because he criticized you for applying so much to your face, you force him to sit down and allow you to use your products on him.

AT FIRST, he has a big problem with this because he’s not sure what all the chemicals in your products are gonna do to his own precious skin, but after your constant badgering and pleading, he finally sighs and relents.

“Don’t overdo it. Or else you’ll never have the chance to do this again.”

Your enthusiasm wins him over, eventually putting him at ease after he’s sat by the sink and watched you prepare everything with a big smile

Vic ALMOST abandoned the entire idea when you tried to put those big, fuzzy headbands to block his hair from getting in the way—but luckily, you managed to persuade him to keep it since it was necessary for the best results.

And we know how the CEO feels about achieving the ‘best results’...

If it weren’t for the tacky headband, seeing Victor with his hair pushed back, dressed in nothing but an expensive robe, and expression unguarded, is probably the most attractive you’ve ever seen him.

You stop a few times to study the soft expression on his face, causing you to blush a little. Even Victor himself flushes at the sensation of your face so close to his—loving fingertips brushing past the contours of his cheekbones and jawline so softly, it almost feels intimate.

“If only you were as focused on your work as you are with simple routines like this...”

That’s earns him a huff on your part, to which he quietly laughs at before feeling something cold cover his face.

“What did y—”

“I just applied a sheet mask to help with your dryness!”

He doesn’t even WANT to look at himself, but the words “sheet mask” set off an alarm in his mind before he jerks away to stare in the mirror.

ok sooooo... part of the plan was really because of his dryness! But most of you just wanted to see Victor in a sheet mask, and well...

He’s stunned silent for the first few moments—but it’s not like he’s never seen you use them, so the surprise in his features melts away into annoyance.

“How long do I need to keep this ridiculous thing on?”

The undeniable irritation in his tone catches you off guard, so you scramble to read the packaging.

“Only for...um...20-ish minutes...?”

The heavy sigh that he responds with is a much better reaction than you imagined, so while he sits back down—something akin of impatience flickering in his gaze—you go through your own routine.

He sits through the entire wait time scrolling through his emails and responding to business-related calls. You snicker a couple times while looking at him through the mirror because, oh if only the executives on the opposite line knew exactly how the powerful CEO of LFG looked in that moment...

Every so often, you find him scrutinizing his own appearance in the mirror with a curious expression; sometimes smoothing down the edges of the mask so it pressed against his skin just right.

Turns out he had set a timer on his phone to let him know when the 20 minutes were finally up. He sits down before you even realize it and gestures to his face.

“Alright, now, get this thing off of me.”

The moment you finally peel away the mask, you can visibly see Victor’s facial muscles relax and his previous annoyance fade.

He’s quick to glance at his reflection and raise an eyebrow at the shininess of his skin.

“There! All done! Just don’t touch your face for the rest of the night!”

He’s silent for a couple moments before rising from his seat.

“Waste of my time. I can’t hardly feel a different, let alone, see one.”

But you catch a small smile on his lips before he leaves, which makes you think contrary to his words—and the following morning, when he asks to borrow your cleanser, you think he must’ve enjoyed it much more than he would’ve cared to admit.

Lucien

The professor probably doesn’t have much of a skin routine either...

gifted with that good skin😤

You discover this one night when you sleep over at his apartment and he eyes your cosmetics bag curiously.

He’s aware of the market for skincare and how important it is to most people—but never cared much for it nor invested in products for himself. It was unnecessary if you had skin as naturally clear as Lucien’s

You’re almost jealous when you discover he uses a basic face wash and moisturizer and never has a single blemish on his skin, while you could cycle through hundreds of different products and still break out time to time...

After he makes a funny comment after seeing you lay out everything like ingredients for dinner, and you have an idea:

“Lucien, can I use some products on you? I promise it’ll be just for tonight!”

There’s evident hesitation in his gaze, but after a few moments, he smiles fondly and ruffles your hair.

“You can. But I’ll have to warn you that my skin is a bit sensitive.”

Suddenly, you’re too scared of fucking up his face before he laughs and urges you himself.

But with his warning in mind, you opt for the most lightweight of your products.

You dive right into the routine, all the while, Lucien studies the concentration in your features with a fond smile.

He remains as still as a statue the entire time, sometimes commenting on the fragerence of the product or asking to review the ingredients himself before you apply anything.

It feels much more flustering and embarrassing for you to be touching him, than for him to be touched by you. Though you try not to look into his eyes too much, you can feel his muscles curve into a smile and the discreet tilt of his head as he nuzzles into your touch.

Lucien is most intrigued by the jade roller you pull out and generously apply serum to before guiding it over his T-zone

He’s familiar with the item and mentions some of it’s historical usages, but never had used it prior to this occasion.

Finally, after a few touch of eye cream and Vitamin C (cus we know lulu works hard and might get wrinkles) you pull away with a wide smile—

“Ta~da! You’re all set!”

Lucien peeks at his reflection, visibly content with your hard work before returning to your side to show his appreciation with a sound kiss on your forehead.

“I suppose I should practice more so I can have the honor of doing the same for you.”

Kiro

oKAY, the only other person with a skincare routine as elaborate as your own is the superstar himself

It’s necessary for him to prioritize cosmetic routines such as skin care when his appearance is the most crucial point of his career.

In fact, he may be even more invested in it than you—with an even larger collection of expensive products and a more elaborate routine that keeps his skin smoother than milk.

The only thing that Kiro keeps “organized” in his life is his skin care collection AND I MEAN: he has them alphabetized, kept in those makeup organizers, and probably owns those mini fridges for keeping your products cool.

He’s ecstatic to be with someone that’s just as invested in skin care as he is, and that little thing in common has made for MANY conversations and debates about which product is superior

Although the two of you tend to do your respective routines individually, you decide you wanna try them out at the same time

So for the night—the two of you do each other’s routines for the other person!

Kiro is the most hesitant to do this in case somethjng goes wrong because he has an 8 a.m interview tomorrow morning—so he can’t risk screwing his face up.

But besides that, he’s fully confident in your routine.

Every so often, he’ll bitch about the way you applied a certain thing—“Ms. Chips, I already told you! You apply it thissss way!”

So, in turn, you do the same until he gets frustrated (cus it’s cute seeing him get pouty for once)

Certain products require a certain wait-time, especially the clay masks and cleansers—so you already know the two of you turned his bathroom into a make-shift karaoke room.

You’re in there for nearly two hours until the routines have finally finished (although, karaoke might’ve slowed the process down jusssttt a little)

Luckily, joint skin-care routines work miracles on each other’s skin and allows you both to discover products you never wouldn’t realized you needed.

In fact, after this occasion—its nearly impossible to avoid doing routines without them being side-by-side.

Gavin

PLEASee—Gavin is the kind of guy to wash his face with Irish Spring soap and call it a day

me, having used Irish Spring and breaking out like crazy: 👁👄👁

He has absolutely no knowledge of skin care and cosmetic routines, and almost used your CeraVe bottle like it was hand soap.

All he knows is that skin care keeps you productive and happy, and your skin supple and refreshed—but never considered doing it himself.

Gav is a “man-on-the-go” type of guy so his morning routine is shower->brush teeth->get dressed->fly out the window

By the time he’s reached ‘fly out the window’, you’re still laying eveyrthing out to get started.

It takes one day-off for him to finally discover the magic that is “skin-care” and how badly he’s been missing out on it.

You never approached him about the subject beforehand, but when he slips out of the bathroom after throwing water on his face and patting it dry—you’re almost ashamed of yourself for not helping him earlier.

SO, you pull birdcop back in and force him to sit through skin care. And obviously he’ll do it just because you asked him too, but he’s just not sure what to expect when you being laying out so many different bottles and tools

His only problem would be that they smell too feminine, but not that you’re practically scrubbing his skin raw with how intensely you’re exfoliating because holy shit, this man has dry ass skin.

Birdcop is probably too busy gazing into your eyes to pay attention to whatever you putting on him—he finds the peaceful expression on your face so darn cute, especially when you start humming to yourself and concentrate extra hard on getting the perfect amount of product onto his skin.

He gets a little restless towards the end, “How long do we need to wait for this?...Another cleanser? Just how many drops are you going to apply?”

Intense restraint against the flush in his face when you get extraaa close and lightly brush against all the edges in his skin that he’s only ever dreamt of you touching.

also can I just say: phenomenal facial structure wow

10/10

The first thing he comments on afterwards is how soft his skin feels and the refreshing of sensation after patting it all dry

I bet Irish Spring can’t do that😌🤚

“Gav! I told you to stop touching your skin or you might break out!”

It’d be nice to do this everyday, but on his schedule—he can only manage this once a week, if he’s even willing to sit still for that long.

But for the most part, he does it because your entire face lights up when you do and he’s just. so. smitten. by. it.

Shaw

hear me out...why do I feel Shaw would be low-key invested in skincare??

Obviously, he doesn’t do anything super fancy—it’s honestly a lil basic, but the products are more than effective for him.

You discover this the morning proceeding some rough sex the night before when Shaw went to the bathroom to freshen up

Skincare is such an important part of his daily routine and it just felt so weird to go without it.

Until you walked in, half-asleep, asking what he was freaking out over.

At first, he didn’t want to admit it because saying “babe I forgot my facial cleanser” sounded a little strange

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before shaking his head.

“Forget it, I’ll use soap or something.”

“Soap...? What for?”

He makes an awkward gesture of splashing water on his face—you stand still for a moment before realization hits you, and you laugh.

“Pbfttt! Washing your face? Why didn’t you just say so?”

He’s stunned into silence the moment you stalk past him and open a nearby cabinet to reveal the holy grail of skin-care collections

The only other time Shaw had seen so many cosmetic products in one place was the fucking store.

On the other hand—you’re unsure what to lend him or if he’d be comfortable using any of your personal items...

Thankfully, your dilemma is short-lived the minute you hear a low whistle and Shaw himself is walking up to the retrieve the products like it’s his own collection.

“...We’re definitely fucking at your place next time.”

He seems to know exactly what to grab and what-goes-with-what, which is a pleasant surprise because who knew your boyfriend had such excellent taste?

But you should’ve known that his flawless complexion spoke for itself.

In the blink of an eye, he’s already standing by your sink, generously applying an oil-based cleanser. He peeks at you through the mirror and gestures to everything laid out:

“Aren’t you gonna wash up as well?”

Shaw’s sudden actions had you frozen in place for quite a while, watching him with wide eyes.

When you blinked back to reality, earning a chuckle from the man already moving onto the next step of his routine, you walked over to his side with your own products already laid out.

He seemed so focused on everything, you’d hate to break that concentration—and ended up doing your own routine wordlessly.

Every once in a while, one of you would reach over to the other’s side to borrow a product, or face each other to check if you had missed a spot somewhere.

Time passed relatively slowly and peacefully, juxtaposing the high-thrill and fast-paced nature of most of your activities together.

Even so, a calm morning called for an equally calming activity such as this one and you were happy to be with someone who appreciated it just as much as you did.

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