#and that’s not with everything posted from this blog
Note
Osamu + doing their makeup for them on the first prompt list? 🥹🥹🙏🙏
SO CUTE!!! I'm not sure which way you wanted this, but this was the first thing that came to mind. hope you enjoy!!
gn!reader that owns/uses makeup, no physical descriptions, fluff fluff fluff, I need to write for osamu more. I think legally for every three atsumu fics I post on this blog, I need to do one for his brother. pls don't hold me to that. very dialogue heavy!!
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"how did I let ya talk me into this?" osamu sighs from underneath you. of course he knows how- your puppy dog eyes and sweet, sweet voice buttering him up.
you giggle and shift a bit so you're straddling him more comfortably. "because you loveeee meeee," you sing. "and you're extremely weak against my charm," you swipe some bright green eye shadow over his left eyelid.
the man sighs again, but the corner of his mouth is clearly twitching upwards at the reminder. "yeah, yeah, whatever," he starts bouncing his leg to pass the time and you click your tongue.
"'samu, stop moving, I'm gonna mess your face up."
he lets out a sudden laugh. "yeah, I'm sure moving my leg a little bit is the thing that's gonna mess my face up. definitely not the gremlin sitting on my lap with some-" he opens his right eye to try to get a glimpse of the brush but you're quick to pull it out of his view. "mystery colour. I don't like the look on your face, sweetheart, what are ya doin' to me?"
your laugh is far too ominous for his liking. "don't you worry, baby, I'm gonna make you so pretty."
"wasn't worried," he shoots back automatically, but then he grumbles a bit while rubbing your thighs, "thought you already considered me pretty."
"aww, so pouty," you coo at him. "keep it up and I'm gonna put some gloss on you, too."
you have to kiss away his scowl and reassure him that nothing sticky or wet will be applied to his lips before lunch.
he stays still until you announce that you're finished. he's a little too quick about scooping you up in his arms and rising from his chair.
you had been giggling throughout the entire process and he remembers the barely concealed mischief behind your eyes when you first begged to do his makeup. there was absolutely zero chance that you had actually given him a cohesive look, but you've been so down lately, that seeing you genuinely laugh and smile made him just a bit more willing than usual to let you have your way.
"samu!" you shriek when he throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
he adjusts his grip on the back of your thighs to keep you from squirming too much. "this had better be the best look of the damn century, sweetheart, or you're going to pay for it."
"what? nooo, baby I swear I was just messing around-" you're squirming relentlessly now, doing everything in your power to get out of his grip and run to safety. your boyfriend is relentless when it comes to payback. granted, you don't mind one bit, but it doesn't make the build-up any less terrifying.
he flicks the light switch on and it's dead-silent in the bathroom as he takes in his new look. his grip loosens just a bit and you take the opportunity to finally wiggle out of his arms and stand beside him.
osamu is just standing there, jaw slacked and staring at his reflection. you bite your lip to stop more laughter from bubbling out.
on his left eye is the bright green eyeshadow you had hidden from his view. on his right is a glittery neon pink. you've applied eyeliner on him as well, however not as sharp as what he sees you do for yourself. not sharp at all, actually, because instead of his eyeliner being winged, you've turned it into rounded flower petals. his blush is horrendously over applied to the apples of his cheeks, making him look like a doll.
and for the final blow, you've also "tattooed" some words onto his face in red lip liner.
atsumu is the better twin.
how you managed to fit it all is a mystery to him- he's almost impressed- but what's even more dumfounding is how he hadn't realized you were writing on him.
he blames your adorable smile for distracting him.
once he's done processing, he turns to look at you slowly and you feel a strange mix of fear and excitement pooling in your stomach. you're both extremely still and waiting for the other to make a move.
you decide not to tell him that you realized halfway into the flower petal eyeliner that you forgot to restock your makeup remover.
after an agonizing ten seconds, your lover only has to narrow his eyes to get you shrieking and running for cover.
lunch will have to wait a bit longer, but he decides he's okay with that as he chases you down the hall and pretends he can't catch up. he'll get his fill soon enough, anyway.
"yeah, you'd better run, darlin'."
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thank you so much for sending this in, I hope you enjoyed!!
@emmyrosee come get your husband
#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader#miya osamu fluff#osamu miya x reader#miya osamu x reader fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq x gender neutral reader
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Love Me Like A Rockstar (8)
Chapter 8: Own My Mind
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
Warning: cursing
Word count: 8.3k
Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au
Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?
A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter and let me tell you, ever since I've started writing this there's been little changes to the plot here and there, but...we should all thank Song Mingi for the way he's been acting this weekend for bringing a major change to it (i wanna kms ha-ha *dies in pain*) Anyways, I have a love-hate relationship with that man right now, don't mind my dramatic ass. Please listen to Maneskin's Own My Mind before or while reading this chapter, just the usual! If you want to be added to this story's taglist, just leave a comment on this post and you'll be added! Also, the drawing our girlie is talking about that is on her bed (later in this chp.), is absolutely waterbomb Mingi and it's a call-back to chp. 4 hehet. I have a surprise at the end of this chapter lol. One last question and then I'm going, should I do a Q&A surrounding this story? Like, if you have any curiosities about it, you can send in an ask and I'll gladly answer it! ^^ I hope you'll enjoy this part and, as always, let me know your thoughts about it!
Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos
⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩
♫Playlist♫
I shivered as I hurriedly shrugged off my jacket, backpack discarded the second I stepped inside my warm home, the loud thunder cut short as Mingi quickly closed the front door behind himself, hissing and groaning. I turned my head to watch him struggle out of his worn-out jacket as I stepped out of my shoes, hardly believing that from just a few minutes out in the rain, even my socks got soaked. Mingi’s head shook as his body trembled, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched him. He looked quite hilarious with his black hair sticking to his forehead, glasses so wet he couldn’t see through them anymore, loose clothing now sticking to his lean body like a second skin.
“What’s so funny?” Mingi playfully furrowed his eyebrows as he took his specks off, shaking the water off the glass, as wiping it against his already wet clothes wouldn’t have helped him in ridding his glasses of water.
“You.” I mumbled with a chuckle as I peeled my cardigan off, skin covered in goosebumps as my damp skin was exposed to the chilly air in the hallway. Mingi rolled his eyes, and placed his glasses back on as I took off towards the wardrobe by the stairs, chewing on my bottom lip. Mingi would have to change out of his wet clothes, unless we wanted him to catch a cold. I couldn’t leave him standing there like that, shivering and sniffing as he already sneezed loudly. His apology was sheepish, but I just flashed him a small smile before opening the heavy door of the wardrobe. There were minimal chances that the box I was looking for was still inside the wardrobe, considering the fact that my mother would go on a cleaning frenzy every month and throw out almost everything inside the house that she deemed unusable anymore. Therefore, there were almost one to zero chances that the box I so vividly remember having placed here ages ago, was still in its spot.
“Uh, do you think I could use the bathroom real fast?” Mingi asked, voice sounding unsure as I kneeled down in front of the wardrobe, eyebrows furrowing when I didn’t spot the box right away.
“One second, let me find something.” I called out, leaning forward as I pushed my mother’s long coats hanging in my face out of the way, and disappeared further into the wardrobe as I pushed and pulled at the thick blankets she kept in there. I thought about giving up for a second, about her having thrown out the contents of the box I was searching for, but I gasped when I felt the sturdy cartoon underneath my fingertips. With a triumphant smile, I pulled on it, a few scarfs and my very old Hello Kitty beanie falling out in the process. The box felt heavier than I remembered it to be, and my heart settled knowing that my mother didn’t throw it out. But that didn’t mean it didn’t start beating wildly once I sat back on my heels, box placed in front of me. A chill ran down my spine, and I knew right now that it wasn’t because of the chilly air and my damp skin. Whatever still remained inside this box…is what I never had the strength to throw out, to fully get rid of every memory lingering of Yunho. I gulped, chewing on my bottom lip as I hesitated opening it up. But there was another loud sneeze, and as I briefly glanced at Mingi, I couldn’t help but notice the light red tinge on his cheeks as he typed away on his phone, completely soaked. I really had no other choice but to open up the box of pandora.
And a lump formed in my throat when I finally opened it, a stale scent hitting my nose. My eyebrows furrowed when a golden butterfly necklace sat on top of everything, a harsh reminder of all the gifts Yunho would buy for me during our relationship. I have thrown out all the gifts, except this one. It was expensive, and frankly, too beautiful to be thrown out or gifted to anyone else. Gulping, I pushed the necklace aside and sighed as I dug around the box, jaw clenching at the three sketchbooks getting in my way. They were filled with drawings of Yunho and myself, of all the places we’ve been to, of all the places I have wished to visit with Yunho. Of all the memories we have once made, and of all the memories I wished we could’ve made. Being an artist was amazing, but at certain times it was a nightmare in disguise, brain able to conjure such vivid images that never happened, that it could fool me into thinking that they have actually happened. I sighed quietly as I felt eyes on me, and finally found what I was searching for. A fuzzy and faded knitted sweater, a plethora of colors mixed together, from beige to a light purple, black and silver in the mix too. I pulled it out of the box, together with the grey sweatpants, and cleared my throat as I stood, hands burning the longer I held the clothing in my hands. I felt guilty, almost disgusting as I neared Mingi again, trying to avoid his eyes as he had an easy look on his face, smiling despite continuously sniffing.
“These are the only male clothing we have in the house,” I said as I reached my hands out, looking at Mingi’s chest rather than eyes, “hopefully they’ll fit you.”
“And if they won’t, you can always give me one of your colorful fuzzy cardigans.” Mingi’s tone was playful and I chuckled, giving him a playful glare. Those cardigans would never fit his broad shoulders. The tightness was gone from my chest as Mingi took the clothes from my grasp, a thankful look on his face. The guilt remained, but it wasn’t so pressing anymore.
“You can change in the bathroom downstairs,” I pointed towards the closed door across from the wardrobe, “towels are in the cabinet above the toilet. Do you need a hairdryer?”
Mingi shook his head with a smile and gave my soaked hair a light tap, “Thank you, Y/N.”
The way he seemed to linger on my name sent my heart into a dumb frenzy, and I found myself flustered beyond, emotion so foreign I forgot how to speak for a second. And Mingi didn’t miss it, fuck, because he walked away with a smug smile towards the bathroom and paused in the doorway for dramatic effect, before disappearing with a damn wink. I huffed, glaring daggers at the closed door as I scurried to shove everything fallen out back inside the wardrobe, closing its door rather harshly. I licked my chapped lips and raced up the stairs, throwing the door to my room open and taking a second to take in its state. My desk was messy, but that’s just how it always was, I couldn’t do much about it right now. I opened the blackout curtains, however, the weather already gloomy enough to cast shadows inside my dark room. I flinched as another thunder rumbled through the sky, and grabbed the first clothes I found in my closet, walking to the bathroom upstairs.
After having changed into wide legged leggings that had cotton on the inside, I quickly threw on a white tank top and a soft pink mock neck sweater, sighing in content as warmth finally enveloped my body after I have dried up the dampness on it with a towel. I skipped down the stairs as I had a towel around my head, messily towel drying my hair, completely missing the tall form standing at the foot of the stairs as I stumbled into him. I yelped, but Mingi quickly steadied me by the elbows. Before I had the chance to pull the towel off my head, two large hands grabbed at it and started softly rubbing the towel against my wet hair. I froze, everything inside me stopping as even my breath stilled, eyes wide open. Mingi said nothing as he continued with his actions, quietly humming to himself. I was afraid he’d be able to hear my loud heartbeat as I breathed through my mouth, lips parting as I struggled to calm down. I was thankful for the towel hiding my face, because I could feel the blush spreading down from my cheeks to my ears, and even neck. I couldn’t remember a time when I have blushed this hard, and it made me feel slightly disoriented. For God’s sake, Mingi was simply towel drying my hair for me, why was I having such a visceral reaction to it?! My mind seemed to be screaming at me, but I was too busy trying to regulate my breathing, doing so quietly, as Mingi’s hands became a little rougher, almost pulling on specific strands of hair. My eyes narrowed as he turned my head left to right to his likes, and I groaned as his fingers dug into my scalp.
“Hey, stop it!” I whined and slapped at his hand, making Mingi chuckle as he ruffled my hair to the point I had strands from the back falling into my eyes.
“Oh, good,” He was still chuckling, “for a second there I thought you had fallen asleep with how quiet you were.”
Despite not being able to see his face, or anything if I looked ahead, I could still peek down and see his feet. I was standing on the last step of the stairs, and with an evil grin, I jumped down, his naked toes falling victims to my attack. Mingi yelped loudly, and I cackled as I pulled the towel off my face, smiling at him smugly.
“Serves you right since my hair is all knotted up thanks to you.” I raised my eyebrows at him as Mingi had his right leg raised, massaging his toes with a pained expression.
“So you break my toes?!” He exclaimed, his deep tone a few octaves higher, making me snicker to myself as I threw the towel at him, making him yelp and look at me with an appalled expression on his face.
“Stop being a baby,” I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked towards the front door to lock it before I went inside the kitchen, “And wear some slippers before you come to the kitchen.”
Mingi was closely following behind me, ignoring my words, “What, one of your dwarf slippers? It’s either my toes or heels will be dangling off.”
The image was funny in my head, but I ignored it in order to throw him a scrutinizing look, “The tiles are cold in here, you’ll catch a cold.”
A wide smile spread on Mingi’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging underneath the tight fabric of the sweater, “You’re so cute when you worry about me, doll.”
There goes the pleasant exchange we’ve been having up until now. My voice became devoid of any expression besides the glare I threw at him, mirroring him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not cute. I’m merely saying you’ll probably catch a cold since we’ve been out in the rain not even fifteen minutes ago. And since you’re a singer you should be taking a lot more care of yourself.”
Mingi remained silent for a few seconds, until I watched a light hue tinge his cheeks. Was he blushing because I was lecturing him? Just what in the hell?!
“You’re right, sorry.” Mingi mumbled, but showed no intentions of actually following through with my words as he walked further inside the room, sitting at the table, feet up on the chair as he hugged his long legs to his chest. For such a tall and broad man, he looked extremely tiny sitting on that chair right now.
“Uh,” A little confused by the turn of events, I looked around the kitchen, trying to remember the initial purpose of me coming here, “Right. You don’t like tea, so we have coffee or hot chocolate to warm us up, which one would you like?”
Mingi’s eyes lingered on me for a second too long, taking in my whole being before his eyes settled on my face again, a smile so genuine settling on his lips that his eyes were sparkling, “Hot chocolate is fine.”
I hummed, a little breathless, then turned to open the cabinet above the microwave to take out two tall mugs for the hot chocolate. For some reason, I didn’t mind Mingi’s eyes following my every move as I tinkered around in my kitchen, taking everything I needed in my hands to prepare them on the counter. The thought of having Mingi inside my home, sitting in my kitchen, wearing my ex’s clothes, acting like we’ve been friends since forever seemed to hit me at once as I froze for a second while pouring water inside the second mug, Mingi’s mug. And what was even more surprising was not finding any thoughts that suggested that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this, that Mingi didn’t belong inside my kitchen. I didn’t want to dwell more on why it all felt so right, so instead, I watched as the mugs whirled around in the microwave, locking these thoughts away for later…I knew they’d come back late at night to haunt me, it’s just how it always was.
Mingi clearing his throat gained my attention as I glanced back at him, and tried not to look too long. The way Yunho’s clothes perfectly fit Mingi’s form was alarming, albeit the sweatpants seemed to be slightly too long for Mingi. I’ve had Yunho’s clothes since highschool, which was a few good years ago, yet they still fit Mingi. It made me wonder if the two ever exchanged clothes or wore something matching, like best friends would do for fun. I know Yunho had once mentioned having matching rings with Mingi, but back then I was too jealous about their closeness to ask any further questions about any other matching items they had. And it was a little surprising just how well Mingi’s skin tone was complimented by the colors of Yunho’s old sweater, Mingi’s necklaces sitting on top of the knitted fabric. That sweater was one of my favorite’s while Yunho and I were dating, Yunho always seemed to be glowing when he wore it. At some point I had even forgotten that I still had it. Perhaps I should do something about the contents of that box, join my mother next month in her frenzy cleaning marathon and throw out its contents.
The microwave pinged and I took the two mugs out, realizing that Mingi and I had been staring at each other for at least a good minute, my cheeks flushed again. A soft chuckle was heard behind me, but I ignored it for my own sake. The silence didn’t last for longer as I opened the little packages containing the hot chocolate powder to pour into our cups, “This might sound crazy, but I swear I’ve seen this exact sweater on Yunho quite a few times.”
I froze, thankful that I had my back to Mingi as panic flashed over my face. Deep breaths, I had this. Mingi didn’t have to know, I could lie my way out of this. And so, I forced a small smile on my face as I faced him while walking to the fridge, “Really? Well, coincidence, maybe. It’s my cousin’s sweater, he forgot it here once, but as he lives overseas he never came to get it and my mother just placed it away for when he comes to visit us.”
I didn’t have one single male cousin. Let alone cousin’s that lived overseas.
“Oh,” Mingi mumbled as he picked at an undone string on the sleeve of Yunho’s sweater, “Yeah, that could be it, a coincidence, I mean. Besides, my memory is a little fuzzy, I might be wrong.”
I gulped away the guilt that suddenly bloomed in my chest and grabbed the whipped cream, raising it up, “Whipped cream for your hot chocolate?”
I grinned at Mingi as he slowly shook his head, “I drink it simple.”
“Really?” I asked surprised as I walked back to the mugs, “Not even with marshmallows?”
Mingi shook his head with a small smile and so I mixed his powder with the warm water, handing it to him. Mingi had a fond smile on his lips when he took it, his cold fingers lightly brushing against mine, making me blush like a stupid schoolgirl who has a crush. And I do not have a crush on anyone, let alone on Song Mingi. I swiftly turned around, hoping that Mingi didn’t notice me blushing as I quickly put whipped cream in my hot chocolate and stuck two marshmallows in it, putting everything away quickly. I turned to face him as I took a sip, leaning against the counter. Mingi sat in a cross-legged position on the chair as he had the mug in his hands, ring clad fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic. I couldn’t help myself as my eyes lingered on his painted nails, slowly trailing up to Mingi’s face. His black fluffy hair fell in his eyes, obscuring his sharp eyes slightly as they were devoid of the black eyeliner now, a few blemishes tainting his otherwise glowing skin around his jaw, glasses slipping low on his tall nose, and plump lips red and slightly wet from how much Mingi always licks his lips. The simplicity of his whole being has never looked more attractive than right now, and as Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I was startled by such alarming thoughts, and so I hurried out of the kitchen.
“Let’s go up to my room!” I called out, on the brink of crying from all these stupid emotions I was suddenly feeling, trying to calm my crazily beating heart. Who allowed my brain to think in such way of Song Mingi? When did I even start considering him attractive? He was annoying, obnoxiously loud, arrogant and irritating, there was absolutely nothing to like about him or find in him attractive. I had to get a grip of myself right now! Mingi’s footsteps were dull as he followed after me, probably surprised that I had waited for him at the top of the stairs, unknowing of the storm inside my head, matching the raging storm outside. Lightning flashed every two seconds, skies rumbling with thunder, shaking even the ground at times. I hated storms, but suddenly it wasn’t as unbearable as before. When Mingi stood next to me, I lead us towards my room and pushed the door open, leaving it like that as Mingi walked in once I stepped aside for him, allowing him inside my safe space.
I have never been consciously proud or embarrassed of what my room looked like, the thought of what others thought of it absent up until right now. As Mingi walked further inside, head turning each and every way, taking everything in, suddenly I realized I was scared of what he would think. My walls were painted a light grey, on purpose, and there was little to no space left bare except for the wall on which the window was. My bed was pushed up against the wall to your left just as you walked inside, sketches that I have done throughout the years plastered up and put on display, my very first drawing even making it up on my wall. It was my little personal museum, a way of reminding myself of where I started out and how much I have evolved ever since, and even how much I was still changing as I was experimenting with my styles, learning a new technique in the class of Mr. Yoon. The desk across from my bed was messy, like I have said, it was littered with everything I needed to have at hand. Pencil holders filled to the brim, at least five of them, then there were brushes and little paint tubes littered all over it, notebooks and discarded sketches sitting underneath it, with my laptop hanging just a little dangerously off, not having paid much attention where I have put it this morning. A plain canvas was spread out on the little free space I still had, a project I had planned on starting today, now postponed for tomorrow. The wall above my desk had three modest shelves filled to the brim with books and some vinyl’s I have started collecting not long ago, pots and plants hanging off from the sides. The wall around the shelves was decorated by posters and pictures of my favorite bands, a few of my favorite paintings mixing in with them. The little stand next to my desk had my vinyl player, plants underneath it and around it, little ones. And then in the corner there was an old guitar that once had belonged to my mother, who has had a phase back in highschool and dreams of becoming a band member, famous and rich. She didn’t have the heart to gift the guitar to anyone, so she’s always kept it and passed it on to me once I was old enough. I never had an affinity for playing any instruments, but I do enjoy good music. A mix of old and new artists making it in that mix, actually—perhaps Noir Zenith slowly becoming one of them too, but Mingi didn’t have to know that. My closet was to the right just as you walked in, and it was of dark and sturdy wood, expanding from the ceiling to the floor. I had a little mirror right on its right side, the wall above and behind it, going right behind the door even, littered with my favorite painter’s paintings. Of course, they were only prints made at the local copy shop, but that didn’t matter. Fairy lights hung above my bed and from the lamp on the ceiling. The two nightstands on either side of my bed were more organized than one would expect from me, little makeup buckets placed on the one closest to the window, charger cable and some headphones sitting on the dark wood. The one nearest to the door had pictures of myself and my mom, and of Seulgi and I on display with a little clock, its drawer so filled with notebooks that I couldn’t quite close it. Thankfully the drawers of my desk weren’t so filled, I had just rearranged them last week, one evening when I was too restless to sleep.
Mingi was quiet as his mouth was slightly open, eyes wide as he took everything in, eyes falling onto my bed. I followed his sight and was mortified to find my biggest sketchbook open and displaying a quite realistic sketch of Mingi performing on stage. It was from the night I had a breakdown and Mingi found me in that diner. Seulgi had sent me some pictures she had taken of Wooyoung and accidentally slipped in one with Mingi too, and because the image just wouldn’t leave my mind, I knew I had no choice but to draw it. I dived for the sketchbook as if my life depended on it, all of it happening so fast I hoped Mingi didn’t actually catch what the drawing—or better said, who—the drawing was of. I shut it closed and pushed it off the bed, the light thud loud in the silent room. When I turned to look at Mingi, ready to face his smug face and taunting words, I was surprised to find his attention on something completely different. Of course, I should’ve expected from a man who plays in a band to be enamored by the vintage guitar in my possession. Its body was a light blue and had cherry blossoms painted over it, something my mother admitted to doing so, which lead to an argument with her father back in the days when he had seen the “damage” my mother had done to the pricey guitar.
“Is that a Martin D-19?” Mingi gushed as he walked toward the guitar, mouth hanging open. My eyebrows raised at his knowledge about it upon one glance. To me, it looked like a regular acoustic guitar. But then again, I should’ve expected it from a music major and a guy who has a literal band and plays the bass.
“Yeah, it was my mother’s.” I answered as I set my mug on the nightstand and sat at the edge of my bed, watching the awed expression on Mingi’s face. He had placed his mug by the foot of my desk as he crouched down, admiring the guitar from up-close.
“It’s absolutely beautiful.” Mingi whispered, fingers carefully tracing its body. Not even at gun point would I have admitted my next thought, which was of just how beautiful Mingi looked in this exact moment. Lightning flashed and the ground shook with the intense thunder, making Mingi tense for a second before he turned back to face me with the prettiest smile I have ever seen on someone.
“Your mother knows how to play it?” He asked, sounding enthusiastic. I was breathless, but after a big gulp, I forced my brain to function.
“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile, “she was a big rock lover back in the days, even wanted to start her own band. But due to her parents negative reactions to it, she unfortunately had to give up on that dream and do something more ‘real’.”
I rolled my eyes at the end of my sentence, not very fond of my grandparents. They weren’t bad people, but they also treated my mother harshly, and even myself, always asking about my future plans and straight up crying when I told them I wanted to become a painter. I saw the way Mingi’s face hardened for a second, but I knew he didn’t want to talk about it as he became expressionless quickly after. I was curious what made his mood become sour so quickly, if he perhaps related to what I have said in some way, but I wouldn’t prod. If he wants to tell me, he will sometime. So, instead, as a distraction, I scooched up further on my bed and patted the mattress next to me with a lazy smile, watching Mingi’s eyes slightly widen. He looked a little shy as he grabbed his mug and rose up to his full height, steps almost hesitant as he approached the bed, making me snort. It made Mingi narrow his eyes as I crossed my legs underneath myself as he kneeled on the bed and then settled beside me, long legs extended as he playfully wiggled his feet left and right. I chuckled as I clasped my hands together, letting them rest in my lap as Mingi took a sip of his hot chocolate. The silence was comfortable between us, the harsh rain hitting the windows loudly, wind rocking trees harshly, and the lightning and rumble a constant background noise.
“Last time when we performed at Outlaw, when you didn’t come,” Mingi paused and turned his head to look at me, “you know, when we met at the diner—”
“Let’s not talk about that.” I muttered with a grimace and Mingi hummed, licking his lips.
“Right, so, that night,” His voice was quiet, lips pulling into an abashed smile, “the crowd was bigger than usual, at first I blamed it on being a rowdier night, but it turned out those people were there to see us, Noir Zenith, to see me.”
I felt a small smile appear on my own lips, Mingi looking pleased with himself despite the light pink tinge of his cheeks, “And now Hongjoong might help us sign with a record deal, I feel like everything is finally coming together. Like my hard work is finally being rewarded.”
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling too wide, subconsciously reaching out to hold Mingi’s arm as he looked me in the eyes, “That’s so good, Mingi! You deserve all the praise and attention your band gets, you’re really good.”
“You really think so?” Mingi sounded small, eyes wide in wonder as he flushed more. I knew I have said some things that weren’t the nicest, and now it made me realize that Mingi never deserved hearing those things from me. Yeah, I didn’t like the guy much at the beginning—not that now I like him more—but I still shouldn’t have shit on his music, on something he pours his whole soul and heart into.
“I really do, Mingi.” I slightly squeezed his arm, hoping that he could hear the sincerity in my voice as a wide and bright smile spread onto Mingi’s plush lips, so contagious that I found myself with a matching smile on my own lips. I chuckled, for some reason not wanting to release his arm just yet, the knitted sweater soft and warm under my touch.
“Lovely seeing you slowly turn into my number one fan, doll.” Of course, trust Mingi to ruin the moment. My eyes narrowed as I sighed loudly, slowly shaking my head. Mingi chuckled before taking a large gulp of his not so hot anymore chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Now, don’t get cocky.” I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand off his arm, watching as his eyes lingered where I have touched him, “I can recognize good work without becoming your fan.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mingi mused playfully and I scoffed, bumping my shoulder into his before I went to retrieve my laptop from my desk, “Seonghwa and Wooyoung want us to try out new genres.”
“Really?” I asked surprised as I settled back in my previous spot, knee brushing against Mingi’s thigh, “Like what?”
“Well, nothing specific, just something little softer.” Mingi pursed his lips, fiddling with the mug in his hands, “Maybe something more indie rock.”
“I love indie rock,” I muttered absentmindedly as I powered on my laptop, “and why are you reluctant?”
Mingi seemed surprised that I had caught on, but it was quite obvious in his tone that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it, “Because my voice is rough and raw, unlike Seonghwa’s who’s smooth and almost angelic, and Wooyoung’s who’s can reach pitches I can only dream of and has a roughness that is absolutely soft at the same time, alluring.”
“Your voice is deep and powerful, it conveys every single emotion you’re feeling when you sing, Mingi. Your raspy tone alone tells a story, even without speaking the same language I would understand what you’re singing about. But just because it’s rougher and more powerful compared to Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful and enchanting, Mingi.” Occupied with typing in the password to my laptop, I failed to notice the way Mingi’s breaths became shallow, the way his eyes bore into the side of my skull, “I think your voice is unique and desirable, you should be proud of it and not look down on yourself because of it. Many wish to have what you have, so really, don’t think any less of yourself because you think Seonghwa and Wooyoung are somehow better and more alluring. It’s not true, each one of you has their charm and well…I think you’re the most charming out of the three of you.”
I didn’t expect the expression on Mingi’s face when I turned my head to look at him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glazed over as his sharp eyes watched me intently, his breaths loud as his cheeks were red. My eyebrows furrowed, and for a second I worried I have made him angry, but the longer I looked, I realized the look in his eyes had nothing to do with anger. I gulped and averted my eyes, suddenly feeling my heart race again, biting my lower lip and trying to ignore the overbearing proximity between us. It was only our knee and thigh touching, yet it felt like Mingi was all over me, his scent still strong despite having changed out of his clothes and getting soaked by the rain. He always had a sharp scent surround him; it reminded me of pine trees.
“Thank you.” At last, Mingi found his voice and it was lower than before, goosebumps covered my skin as the low baritone of it traveled through my body. I nodded once in acknowledgement, not trusting my voice as I went on the internet to search for some movies to watch and pass the time while we wait for the storm to pass. If it passes, “Do you think rapping would fit my tone?”
It was an unexpected question, but as I mulled over it, I concluded that Mingi had the perfect timbre to both sing and rap, “Yeah, I think it would.”
I dared to take a peek at Mingi from the corner of my eyes, and was relieved to find the intensity gone from his face, instead, a soft smile grazed his lips as he finished his hot chocolate. He leaned back and placed his empty mug next to mine on the nightstand and fished his phone out of his pocket, “I found some old videos of me at school plays, let’s see what my music genius bestie thinks of them.”
I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless peered over Mingi’s shoulder in curiosity, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m merely stating something that someone with not musically trained ears hear. You should be more thankful.”
“I’m more than thankful, Y/N.” Mingi suddenly turned his head, our faces too close for comfort, so I quickly leaned back as he placed his arm on my thigh and pressed play on a video he pulled up from his gallery.
『Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?
Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?
Do you wanna know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?
Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?』
The movie of my choice was simple, The Quiet Ones. Nothing better than something a little spooky while there’s a wild storm raging outside, but to my utter surprise, Mingi looked terrified after only ten minutes of watching it. We were both leaning against the headboard of my bed, pillows behind our backs, and laptop placed between our lower bodies as our legs were stretched out. And despite the laptop being between us, Mingi’s shoulder pressed against mine not even five minutes after settling in our current spots. Trying to watch the horror movie, which was one of my favorite movie’s, turned out to be a fail, and I had no choice but to give in to Mingi as he only stopped whining when he got what he wanted. And that was watching a rom-com from the nineties, called 10 Things I Hate About You. I’ve seen it numerous times already, but it never gets old. There is something about the way the actors play their parts, and the plot too, that have me coming back to it with the same enthusiasm I had for it when watching it for the first time. At first, I thought Mingi hadn’t seen it and had only went along with my suggestion because he didn’t know what else to watch, but when he started quoting Patrick’s lines as if he were the character himself, I narrowed my eyes at him and poked his arm. After some painful jabs, he admitted that it was his favorite movie and he regularly rewatched it, especially if he was in a bad mood. That was a piece of information I wasn’t expecting from someone like Mingi. He looked like a guy who enjoyed tough and brutal movies, with the occasional romance movies if a pretty girl begged him to watch it together. Turns out, Mingi’s favorite genre is romance, and he hates horror, and depends on the type of thriller whether he likes it or not.
We found ourselves joking and laughing throughout the movie, making our own commentary about it after our first disagreement. Which was about whether Patrick accepting the money to charm Kat was right or wrong. Of course, it was very wrong to play with someone’s feelings and get paid for it too, but Mingi argued that if he never accepted it, then him and Kat would’ve never gotten together. And for that, I threw in the hypothetical scenario of him accepting money from Wooyoung so that he could take me out on a date and make me fall in love with him if that meant Wooyoung could have Seulgi date him. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he declined such scenario, exactly proving my point why this was so wrong then, but he remained believing that for Kat and Patrick it totally worked out. And then he had the audacity to compare my stubbornness to Kat’s, making me call him just as stupid as Patrick was.
Time flew by as our laughter got louder, completely missing the way the rain had started to quiet down as we were immersed in the movie we were watching. It felt like a bubble was wrapped around us, isolating us from the cold world, and letting us enjoy ourselves without being so cautious of what we were saying. It felt nice. I couldn’t remember a time when I was able to let loose with someone other than Seulgi. It was a nice feeling, it made me excited in some way, completely making me forget that I was doing this with Mingi. He made it too easy to forget my worries and made me feel really comfortable all of a sudden, never stepping out of line—if we ignore his stupid flirting—and always keeping everything lighthearted. It was a nice change for once.
I groaned as I let my head fall back, lips pursed as my ass had gone numb from sitting so much in one place. Mingi snickered as Kat reversed into Joey’s car, clearly amused by the snarky remarks exchanged between the two characters. He was clearly into the witty exchanges, especially between Patrick and Kat, even having said that it makes Kat attractive how quickly and well she can shut Patrick down. I had told him that she wouldn’t have to do that if Patrick wasn’t so stupid most of the time, making Mingi roll his eyes at me, and say that I simply didn’t appreciate some good banter. Which wasn’t even true, I liked bantering if it had a smart purpose, not just to rile each other up, what was the point of that?
I licked my lips as my head lulled to the right, eyes falling on Mingi’s profile as he had his legs up, leaning forward as he hugged them around his knees with one arm. He was smiling and chuckling, pretty red lips pulled to the side, showing off his white teeth. His brows were dark, and his browbone being more prominent really sharpened his face in a very aesthetically pleasing way. Mingi’s face was very beautiful, and as an artist, I couldn’t help but admire it, and recognize it. So many pretty portraits of his face could be made, pity he doesn’t model. My lips pulled into a tiny smile at the thought of him modelling for me when we had to sketch human forms for our next class. I’m sure my professor would appreciate my drawings even more. Mingi’s glasses were discarded, and my eyes paused on his long nose, biting my lower lip just as Mingi chuckled again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sniffed before rubbing two fingers against his plump lips, wetting them not even a second later. I gulped as I suddenly wondered what they would taste like. It was such a startling thought that I jumped, but Mingi suddenly looking at me certainly scared me more. I gulped, instantly blushing as a friendly smile painted Mingi’s lips as he leaned back, placing his head on the pillow, and letting it roll to the left. Our gazes connected, and I wasn’t surprised to find my heart beating so quickly once again, my lips pulling into a straight line as I struggled to keep my breathing even. Mingi’s easy smile didn’t disappear as his eyes racked over my face, it only became wider.
There was a whole galaxy behind those beautiful deep brown eyes of his, they sparkled with life and an excitement I haven’t seen in anyone before. I wished that I could recreate that in my drawings, but I wasn’t good enough to give simple eyes such deep emotions yet. And I really wished I was able to do so, because the longer I stared into Mingi’s eyes, the more lost I got in them, thoughts and worries disappearing into nothingness. Mingi’s hand twitched for a second and I tensed when I felt a finger gently poking my cold hand. I gulped, but I wasn’t able to look away as ever so softly more fingers brushed against my skin like feather, Mingi’s bottom lip between his teeth. His actions were slow and cautious, probably afraid that I would pull away, but I was too captured by his alluring gaze to even think to move away from him. Slowly, his longer fingers intertwined with mine and his rings cut into my skin when I squeezed his hand, uncaring that it hurt a bit. I knew my cheeks were now surely very red, but I couldn’t actually be bothered to feel embarrassed, not when Mingi’s cheeks were dusted pink as well. His high cheekbones were flushed the pretties color they could have been, and I smiled as Mingi blinked, looking abashed. Somehow no words had to be exchanged between us, everything felt comfortable, scarily familiar. I haven’t felt like this…since my ex. And not even with him have I felt so safe and understood, it always seemed like there was some invisible barrier between us, and I never understood why. With Mingi, if I allowed myself to feel and be unafraid, no barrier lay between the two of us.
I gulped, eyes suddenly falling on Mingi’s lips as his tongue poked out just slightly to wet them, his plump lips red and full. I’ve never seen a person have such full lips, and it made me wonder if they were as soft as one would imagine them be. Aware that my eyes were glued to Mingi’s lips, I looked back up in his eyes, trying to ignore how insanely attractive his mole right underneath it made him look. There was something about Mingi’s bareface that was so charming and beautiful that it almost made me feel jealous of it. Mingi sniffed quietly, and his bottom lip was between his teeth again as his eyes fell to my lips, my rapid heartbeat halting for a second. Could he be having similar thoughts to mine? I wouldn’t know, but when Mingi’s eyes found mine again, they were just slightly more intense and sharper. Like he was determined and nothing could stop him. I gulped loudly as he moved his head, just lightly, but it was closer than before. My heart was beating like crazy, but almost as if I was under a spell, I found myself shifting my head just a little bit closer. Mingi’s eyes no longer were on mine, and as my lips parted when I licked them, I felt Mingi’s hand squeeze mine just a little bit more. I gulped as I proceeded to lean even closer, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s lips now too, just wondering and wondering infinitely if they were warm, soft, wet, and what they would taste like. I didn’t startle nor flinch when Mingi angled his body so that he could lean dangerously close, the bridge of his nose brushing against mine. His hot breath mingled with mine as our lips were parted, a pull so magnetic I couldn’t untangle myself from it even if I tried to. My eyes threatened to flutter closed as I pressed my nose against his, the side of our lips rubbing just a little together as I couldn’t breathe regularly anymore. Mingi’s lips pressed ever so slightly against the corner of mine, feather like, and it suddenly wasn’t enough. The distance, it was too big—even if it didn’t even exist between us anymore—and I squeezed his hand as I angled my head to finally press our lips together, Mingi’s breaths audible due to our proximity.
But suddenly, a door was slammed shut loudly, “Sweetheart, I made it home finally! I saw a car parked in front of our house, all’s good?!”
The curious and shrill voice of my mother sent Mingi and I flying away from each other, both of our eyes wide as I was panting, my whole body burning. I couldn’t look at Mingi as I scrambled to press pause on the movie and Mingi was off the bed in a flash, sprinting towards my window. I could still feel his hot puffs against my face, and I gulped as I forced myself to forget everything I felt just seconds ago.
“The rain stopped,” Mingi’s voice was hoarse, so gravely that I had to clench my fists to stop myself from doing something I would regret, “I will be going.”
“I’ll go downstairs, let my mom know you’re here.” My voice wasn’t better off, I sounded breathless. I felt lightheaded as I got off the bed, standing and pausing for a second.
“Right, I’ll change back into my clothes and then—”
“No,” I didn’t mean to sound desperate as Mingi’s eyes fell on me, I had to look away in embarrassment, “keep them, they are of no use to me.”
“Right.” Mingi cleared his throat and I quickly walked past him, thankful that he stepped aside, and hurried out of my room and down the stairs. I took a deep breath to compose myself as I heard my mother placing down plastic bags in the kitchen. I needed to behave like everything was fine, when nothing was fine anymore.
“Hi!” My greeting was high pitched and way too cheery, my mother’s eyes narrowed when she saw me standing in the doorway, “Glad you made it home, the storm was awful.”
“It really was.” My mom grimaced as she continued unpacking the groceries, “You got home alright?”
“Yeah, uhm, actually,” I gulped and bit my lower lip as I heard Mingi coming down the stairs, “a friend from university drove me home as it was already raining, and he, uhm, stayed over. Because the rain was so bad he wouldn’t have been able to drive home. You know, safety measures and all.”
My mother paused and looked up at me with both of her eyebrows raised, “He?”
And on cue, Mingi appeared next to me, glasses pushed up on his nose adequately for once and hair not as messy as before, “Hello, my name is Song Mingi.”
“Nice to meet you, dear.” My mother’s eyes were glinting, looking way too happy for someone who was just introducing themselves. I was afraid of what would come, so, I grabbed Mingi’s arm and guided him towards the coat hanger.
“Mingi’s leaving, mom.” I said as I let go of his arm, averting my eyes as he wore his shoes and pulled on his jacket.
“Already?” My mom asked with a pout, coming to stand in the doorway, “Don’t you want to stay for dinner, dear?”
Mingi froze, eyes first finding mine before he looked at my mother with a polite smile, “Don’t worry, Mrs—”
“Oh, don’t be all formal with me, I hate that shit.” My mother chuckled and winked at him, “Call me Boyoung.”
Mingi gulped, seemingly taken aback by my mother’s behavior. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, knowing how surprising the contrast between my mother’s personality and mine was. Sadly, I haven’t taken after her when it comes to my attitude, but that’s fine.
“Well, Boyoung, thank you for your offer, but my friends and I actually agreed on dining out tonight.” Mingi’s excuse sounded real, so I knew he wasn’t lying. I gulped when my mother threw me a very slick glare, almost saying that this was my fault. I rolled my eyes, offended by her assumption.
“That’s a pity, dear,” My mother pouted, but soon a bright smile appeared on her lips, “But you are invited for whenever you feel like having dinner with us, right, my starlight?”
I tried not to glare at my mother for the outrageous nickname, especially when I saw Mingi’s lips twitch in amusement. I told her not to call me that in front of others so many times, “Right, mom.”
My mother chuckled, all too aware of my dislike for the nickname, before her eyes landed on Mingi again. There was a brief pause, one too awkward for my liking, and then Mingi was clearing his throat and opening the front door.
“Uh,” He made eye contact with me briefly, “talk to you later.”
“Wait,” My mother’s eyebrows furrowed as Mingi stepped outside, trying to adjust the strap of his backpack, “Aren’t those Yun—”
“Talk to you later!” I loudly said, making sure to send my mother a very alarmed look as Mingi froze for a second before he hummed quietly and took off towards his car.
The air was chilly and humid due to the harsh rain, and as I closed the front door, I knew I had a lot of questions to answer when my eyes fell on my mother’s amused face.
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lol, this is the surprise I mentioned...I saw this post and it would just not leave my mind, besides, I think it's very fitting for our plot, no?
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when the rain washes you clean, you'll know
Javier Peña x female reader
Summary: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever, not with these rainy days anyway …
Warnings: 18+ blog, MDNI, secret relationship vibes, sexual tension, passing mentions of sexism and work, flangst (is it a lolabee fic without this?), copious references to rainy seasons and rain, poor communication, elements of rivalry if you squint maybe?
Notes: This is my entry for the very lovely @undercoverpena’s April Showers challenge and I would like to thank this event for giving me some Javi P inspo. The fic title is from the brilliant Fleetwood Mac Dreams.
Word Count: 2.7k
April brings the rain in Bogotá. You hear that in Cartagena, they get an extra month of dryness, but you’ve never minded water. You’re used to it.
If you were at your apartment now; with rain pitter pattering against glass windows, steaming coffee in your cup and a whole evening away from the office ahead of you, it would be better, you’d enjoy this moment. Instead, you’re desperately searching your handbag in the vain hope that this time around you will find an umbrella.
The embassy has a few umbrellas near the entrances and exits, but these have already been purloined by people leaving work before you. That will teach you to work late, to try and impress Messina again in vain.
This job isn’t what you expected. You wanted to expand your horizons, to do something wild and reckless with your life while you could. It seemed sensible to do this now, before mortgages and future commitments and expectations made it too difficult to be spontaneous.
The post in Colombia, working for Claudia Messina, seemed like a perfect opportunity. When you were told about it, all you could think was how it would certainly be a change from your small-town world and to learn from a woman rising in a male-dominated field was a dream, as well as a chance to stop the bad guys? You said yes almost automatically.
The reality is different to the images you’d let run wild in your mind. You’re not an active agent, you’re mostly doing translations, paperwork and shadowing Messina. The DEA’s office is dark and dank, illuminated by artificial bulbs and full of cigarette smoke. Your apartment is small and loud. Work takes so much of your time that you feel like you never explore this beautiful country or city and now it’s the wet season.
You feel like your adventure hasn’t yet started. It’s been weeks since you moved here and despite your best intentions, this isn’t what you had hoped for.
“Where are you parked?” a voice asks softly behind you. You turn around and see Agent Javier Peña - the source of most of your late nights of work as you try and untangle his messes or work on a better case for Messina to present.
When you had first joined the DEA office, one of the women in the office had taken you under her wing and shared the gossip and news about all of your new colleagues. She told you that Agent Peña has been in Colombia for years though, longer than most of the other active DEA agents.
He has a reputation. It’s all she’s needed to say to you about him.
Your few conversations with Javier have been professional, concise and fine. You’ve tried to notice his smile, the way he slightly changes his voice when he speaks to you, or any women. You refuse to be a notch in an already impressive bedpost, or to be the woman people talk about.
He might have a reputation, but from what you’ve heard, he’s one of the ‘good guys’. It lowers your guard; lets you point vaguely in the direction of your car. Javier smiles.
It’s a good smile. You can understand the rumours with a smile like that.
“We haven’t met, have we? I’m Javi” Five words. It takes only five words for Javier Peña to ruin everything. “I’d definitely remember seeing someone like you. Which uh, office are you in?”
You stand stonily silent, listening to the water running off the umbrella. Javier looks at you, brow furrowed as you extend the silence.
The rain does sound beautiful.
You open your car door and get in. Part of you wants to leave Javier right there, standing dumbfounded in the rain, his clothes getting damper by the second, the rain pouring over his stupid umbrella.
“I work for Messina, Peña, in the same damn office,” you say finally before slamming the door shut and starting your car engine.
“You changed your hair,” he says, hands on his hips defensively as he stands over your desk.
“What’s your problem, Agent Peña?”
“You changed your hair, that’s why I didn’t recognise you.” “Right.”
You’re proud you manage to avoid physically rolling your eyes at his excuses.
“It’s true,” he argues, shifting his position slightly.
“Uh huh.”
You remember that Colleen has boasted about him noticing her damn nail varnish so this feels weak at best so this hardly feels plausible, but as you look up you notice that Javi appears genuinely disturbed at your reaction.
You take in his appearance further, now he’s not at the end of another busy day, isn’t fighting away rain in a damp suit and shirt, with curls peeking through his hair.
Today he’s wearing a white shirt with a black pattern on it, his hair slightly scruffy, but moustache carefully sculpted. He smells like cologne and cigarettes. Sweet, woody notes trying to mask smoke and drawing you in like a siren’s song.
“Look, this has been … delightful, but do excuse me, Agent Peña,” you say coolly, focusing on each syllable of his surname because you at least remember his name, at least you remember meeting him before yesterday. “I need to get back to work.”
“Oh, well, please don’t let me keep you,” Javi replies with a sardonic tone, one eyebrow raised and his arms folded.
“I shan’t.” You don’t move.
“Must be very important work,” he says pleasantly, a slight smirk at your lack of movement.
“Well, someone has to actually work around here,” you reply sweetly.
You don’t need to be a special agent to know that everybody has secrets. It’s a fact of life. There will always be things we keep from others, especially at work. Most of them will be mild and harmless, but some of them won’t be. It’s a constant.
There’s a reliability to this idea that perhaps you’re never getting the true person in front of you; just the shiny version that they want to project, the one that masks all the little secrets like they can’t quit smoking, or they drink milk straight from the carton.
It’s you too. You have a secret.
Your secret is wearing a light blue shirt today. Your secret is walking down the hallway arguing with his colleague. Your secret is the smell of cigarette smoke, whispered words and so much heat.
Your secret now is Agent Javier Peña.
He’s been your secret for weeks; weeks since the teasing banter developed into something else, to lingering touches, to kisses that you need like breathing and hands that map your body in a way you can hardly describe. You spent the month break from rainstorms in between yours and Javi’s apartments under the cover of night and cloud. Now it’s raining again, the wet season truly living up to its name.
Down in the DEA office, you can’t hear or see the rain outside. The windowless, dimly lit basement is a world away from the bustle of Bogota’s streets, yet somehow still is damp. Colombia’s wetness permeates through poorly maintained vents, through wet umbrellas in the bucket by the office door that hint at a world outside.
Steve and Javier are arguing. It’s not subtle, not a quiet disagreement between colleagues. It’s hands on hips, hands in the air, shaking heads and barely concealed curse words.
Maybe you should say something.
Or maybe not.
You try and return to your paperwork and the steaming mug of coffee you’ve been anticipating ever since your morning cup. There’s a coffee shop a few steps from your apartment building and you’ve finally convinced them to sell you some of their coffee blend. It’s not quite the same, but it’s close.
You think of breakfast this morning. The ghost of Javi’s lips on yours.
There’s a noise, a clearing of a throat and you look up to see Steve and Javi standing in front of your desk.
“Messina’s in meetings until five.”
“I know,” Javi says.
“It’s you, we want to speak to.”
You raise an eyebrow. Whatever this is between you and Javi relies on the two of you barely acknowledging one another in the office.
“You’re fluent in Spanish, right?” Steve asks directly.
You nod, still perplexed at how Steve’s Spanish is . “Why?”
“Firearm trained? You’re not just a desk jockey, right? You’re qualified?”
“Came third in my class.” You may have been a little higher if not for a terrible argument with your parents two days before your final exam. It hadn’t been your finest hour. You still carry it with you in every awkward phone call, every stilted letter home.
“Okay. That’s good. So, I don’t see the problem, Javi.”
“She came third. Who came first?’
“Really?” you ask incredulously, hurt and anger raging. How fucking dare he? You’ve told him about how hard it is to be taken seriously in the department, how the sexist roots prevail even with Messina in charge. Institutions can’t change overnight - they need people like you to fight them. Javi had emphasised, talked about his own barriers, the presumptions people had from his surname, his heritage.
He has the decency to look away, eyes abashed and fixated on the floor. Good, you think, that’s the very least he could do.
“I can get one of my informants -” No, you think, no, not one of Javi’s informants. You’ll do it, whatever Steve needs, surely you can do it instead?
“What do you need, Steve?”
This morning feels a world away now, but you let the memory take you away from this moment, from Javi’s inscrutable look when you said yes to Steve, from the fact you’re doing something this brave, this dangerous.
You remember the coffee on the stove, its rich aroma seeping through the room as you wander out of Javi’s bedroom.
Hands behind, wrapping around your wait and turning you around to meet his kiss. His hands move down your nightdress, teasing at the lacy hem as he moves them underneath.
Laughing between kisses.
“It’s raining,” you say.
“I noticed,” he teases, tracing kisses down to your neck and then back up your jaw.
“I think of you when it rains.”
“Oh, yeah?” Javi stops for a second and looks at you quizzically.
“Of how we got talking, of how we got from there, in that moment to here.”
“Well ,I’ve never been more grateful to be caught in the rain.”
You’re starting to wonder if there was ever a time in Colombia that it wasn’t raining. The stormy clouds add to the greyness and foreboding of the street you’re currently parked in.
“Don’t,” Javi says quietly, the rain hitting the car windows and roof, echoing loudly around you. “Please don’t do this.”
You chance a look at him. “Do you not believe I can do this?” you ask, the concealed firearm heavy on your side, the wire Javi had put on feeling all to visible to you. He’d swallowed as he did it, featherlight fingers trying not to linger, you wondered if he was also trying not to default to the usual way he’d touch you.
“Oh, baby, I know you can.” Javi swallows. “But I want to be selfish and tell you not to do this. This isn’t a game, it’s not a drill -”
“I know that. I’ve been through the same training -”
“It’s different. You’ve not seen what I’ve seen.”
“I can handle it,” you reply simply.
“I don’t want you to.”
“Don’t be a sexist.”
“Don’t be so naive then, goddammit!”
“I’ve read the reports, studied the intel. I am not some naive ingenue here, Javi, fuck you for saying that. You made out I was stupid earlier, like I was some -”
“I’m sorry.” You can hear the apology is genuine.
You don’t reply, letting the rain speak for you instead. If you’re honest, you are nervous. This is your first undercover assignment and is so beyond the comfort and safety provided by your windowless desk.
It’s the job though, it’s what is needed.
“I’ve got this, Javi, whether or not you believe in me,”
“I do believe in you. I am sorry. I just - I don’t like it out here. I don’t like me out here, I don’t like who I am or who I become and I don’t - you’re still you. That’s part of what I love about you.”
You raise an eyebrow, meet Javi’s gaze. “Love, huh?”
You expect him to walk his words back, to huff or not say a word. He just shrugs.
“You ready?” Steve asks through the walkie talkie.
You nod before catching yourself, pressing the button and saying, “Yes, yeah, I’m ready and in position.”
“Okay, keep it to what we agreed, nothing else and keep it quick.”
Next to you, Javi looks at you pointedly, reinforcing Steve’s words.
“Understood,” you say and you can’t help but chance a smile at Javi as you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car.
Rain hitting your skin.
Your heart’s racing, it’s so loud you can feel it in your ears. The incessant beating and drumming of adrenaline coursing through your body.
You should be cold, but you’re not. Not as they load them into the van, as Steve pats you on the back to congratulate you on a job well done.
You wish your undercover persona was the type of woman who wore a coat on a rainy night. You wrap your arms around yourself.
You can still hear the gunshot. The shouts.
There’s a weight on your shoulder, the scent of cologne, cigarettes … Javi permeating through your haze.
He stands next to you, leaning against the wall, a lit cigarette between his fingers.
“I’m fine,” you say urgently.
“I know.”
“It’s just … a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“I thought they had made me towards the end.”
Javi pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette before offering you it. You accept it with surprisingly shaky hands.
“I did too,” he admits in a low voice.
“But they didn’t.”
“They didn’t.” Javi pauses. “You did great.”
“You haven’t.”
“I haven’t, what?” he asks playfully, turning to face you. In the dim streetlight, you notice each feature of his face, how it’s illuminated in yellow light and how deep brown his eyes really are. His brow is furrowed, hair slightly dishevelled in the way you normally associate with a good night, but you know from his bad days in the office is from running his hand through his hair too many times.
“Changed,” you say. “You said you don’t like who you become, but you’re you, Javi. I like you. All of you.”
“You say shit like that, I’m going to end up kissing you right here.”
“Dare you,” you tease.
He smirks. “I would,” he replies in a low voice.
“It’d be romantic, with the rain and all. Maybe less so with our colleagues around though. ”
“Is that what you want?”
“Do you?” It’s the first time the two of you have broached this subject. For months, you’ve existed in peace with the parts of Javi he can give you out of an assumption that was all that he could offer. Today seems to have changed things though.
Javi swallows.
“Take away the job, or who you’re hunting, take it all away for a moment. Would you want - would you want to be with me like that?”
“If we were in Texas, if none of this was going on, then nothing would stop me.”
“I’ve never been to Texas,” you muse.
“When this is over, we can go,” Javi says and the vulnerability in his eyes is so alien.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Looks like it’s still raining,” Javi says, noticing your attention at the view outside.
“Yep,” you say, “I suppose we should head back to everyone else, right? Finish the paperwork?”
“I didn’t say it this morning, but I think of you too. When it rains, I always think of you.”
Tag List
Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap
#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña#javier peña x you#UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge#javi pena x you#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x reader
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Hey! This question is from an anonymous..
Who inspires me?
Thank you for this question! I have so much to say 😍❤️
I have so many people's blogs that inspire me. Unfortunately, they won't all fit here, but there are so many wonderful people, know that you are wonderful! 🫶
Too many letters below in random order under the cut 👇
@bakersimmer inspired me so much with her story and legacy ❤️ I love her light and engaging writing and storytelling style ✍️
Saffron is just a cute little devil whom I love very much 😁 and Anselm.. keep your eyes peeled! ehhh my lovelies 😭❤️
Also, her style of screenshots and game seems to be my favorite on simblr ✨
@onestormeynight and Penny, Blair and Rosie life and them story, they're so so cute and warming my heart ☺️ I adore their story because it is full of family love and understanding, it is a wonderful portion of happiness every episode :з
@elderwisp your arts it's something magical!It inspires me a lot, I love this aesthetic, and it hits the heart 100%, your simstyle very fine and sm tasteful 🧡 and tesselate such a goooood story ohmhm my gosh so good 🤌
@youredreamingofroo i love your Roo universe hehe ❤️ I like to discover him every time learning details about his life and character, it seems as if he is another good friend of ours on Simblr 🤭 It's very inspiring to know own characters better too) And of course, I admire your renders, they are very beautiful and high quality!
@kuroashims and her beautiful blog dedicated to One Peece ❤️ 🧭 If you're like me and have never seen this anime, you'll want to know more about it after discover her page, and if you're a loyal fan, you'll love it even more! Her style is unique in its kind, you won't see anything like it in the sims. And the way she conveys emotions and feelings with just one picture without many words is just something beautiful. It is very inspiring. Elfy is also a wonderful person and a so kind warm friend. 🧝 Je t'aime, ma chère ☺️( btw your French vibe is very inspiring too 😍🤌 belle, incroyablement belle 💅🗼)
@changingplumbob and her amazing stories with amazing families. I love each of them. Kirsty plays the game with a huge and contagious passion. Each of her oc's is different and has its own story.
It's touch me and makes root for each character, through victories, mistakes, and life circumstances. She also has a great sense of humor! Her game sometimes throws up such funny situations! In general, Kirsty knows how to turn the usual gameplay into an exciting journey and I definitely recommend you to join. Also, I am very impressed with her playing style. And if I'm ever going to play a ts4 (as gameplay lmao), she'll definitely be the one to inspire me how.
@holocene-sims i love all about Grant and his life. This is such a vital and real, deep story. I love experiencing all the happy and poignant moments with him as well. His example teaches me not to give up and to live in spite of everything, and to be honest, the thought of this sometimes supported me in difficult moments.
I love talking with you about him and the family and about Junga, she's wonderful. 😇 I'm always looking forward to new episodes.
And Ana is my main inspiration for my main story. If you see a new episode of Cursed Chronicles, you should know that part of the gratitude lies with Ana. ❤️
@matchalovertrait and her beautiful lovely sunshine Noemi and her family ❤️ I will love them always 🥹 It seems to be the warmest, kindest and most loving legacy I know) I like to read it at least to recharge my batteries with this wonderful atmosphere and I immediately want to create something cute and wonderful ☺️
btw Dulce and Ángel has grown so charming!
@miralure your sims just incredible and i love your lookbooks ❤️🤌 You inspire me a lot to create and remade my sims and stand at the CAS like never before! looking forward to hearing new posts from you ☺️
@wistfulpoltergeist You have no idea how much I appreciate this person and his support from the very beginning of my blog❤️ Євгенку ну ти справжнє найсправжнє сонечко 🌞☺️🧡He is a real sunshine. And of course, I adore him both as a creator and a storyteller and as a dad/mom of two beautiful cats Aidan and Arvin 😁 this teo boys so lovely and hot 🤌🔥 і я сподіваюсь ще почути від тебе багато історій ☺️❤️
@aniraklova I think looking at her screenshots, you don't have to say anything, do you? This is an absolutely sky-high level of aesthetics 🤌💅 And I admired their work long before I started the blog, becouse all her cc and all art is something very very inspiring, she really inspired me to create some characters and recent cyberpictures :h Карі ти просто крейзі в найкращому значенні цього слова 😘🔥💋
@vermutandherring another wonderful creator who amazes me with her skill and beauty, It's just so gorgeous, this builds and scenes are incredible and everything I see there I dream of either seeing in my game or just admiring endlessly, so talented artist просто золоті руки 😍
@stellarfalls people who I may not follow much, but people who I consider my great inspirations, who make me want to move on, develop and improve my screenmake skills 🧡 at one time she impressed me a lot with her story&creations and I am still impressed, thank you friend ❤️
@aheathen-conceivably I've probably said it before, but you really do inspire me in a very real way, besides the fact that your dynasty is more than sims, it's a whole bunch and a storm of emotions, these are such real, well-developed characters, I almost cried a few times over some moments... for everyone who is not familiar with the dynasty of this wonderful author, I highly recommend you to read it) and besides, your work inspires me to write my own story too :з it really inspired me for some points of the sequel and thank you to your blog for that)
@circusjuney your style and story, are some of my favorites, and Ellie and Max are the ones I'm really rooting for and worried about ❤️ your blog is very inspiring to me in gґso many ways and makes me glad to be here on simblr ☺️✨🫶
@papermint-airplane I may not have known your blog for that long, but I get excited every time I read about Aiden and his friends again ❤️🫶 I really like your writing style, it's engaging, light and catchy, I love adventure, so it really inspires me to write. and I'd like to send you a special hug as a former fan of the TS3 hehe 🫂
I would also note @weirdosalike because I can't help but note that I am fascinated and obsessed by her story, which makes me just as passionate about creating something 😁
I almost forgot about @theosconfessions Scarlet is so gorgeous, you know what inspires me about your blog? your absolute passion for what you do!
.... oh okay i need a chapter 2 😣😖
There are many more authors whose work I am just getting to know, and I really like them ❤️ Sorry if I didn't mention you i love your blogs too 🥹🫶
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comeuppance | qz!j.m. x f!reader
masterlist | notifs blog
pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader
summary: [post outbreak] when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it.
warnings: (18+ mdni) qz!joel, age gap (late 20s/early 50s), written with hbo!joel in mind but with game!joel lore, guns, mentioned executions, misogynistic names outside (and in!) a sexual context, canon-typical violence as in murder (joel kills a soldier 'on-screen'), reader is a little shit but joel is worse, darkish & dubcon, spanking as a punishment, gunplay, attempted boot humping, degradation, humiliation, one kick to the cunt, mean!joel, orgasm denial [no use of y/n]
word count: 2.7k
a/n: this is my (admittedly late) submission for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! my prompt was 'you can't hide forever'. the genre was technically dark but joel himself isn't scarily dark here. thank you so much to aly for, once again, bringing this fandom together with her challenges. it's a steep task but she does a great job every time! and even more thanks to @joelsdagger and @lovesickonmybed for helping me brainstorm! (i have half of a brain without my wonderfully creative friends).
It only takes one deal gone south to fuck everything up.
You know the compass is already ticking that way the moment you and Joel, your longtime smuggling partner, enter the abandoned warehouse. Much like everything else in the Boston QZ, it’s falling apart. The corrugated metal walls are pitted with rust, and old blood is caked all over the floors. In another life, it might’ve been a slaughterhouse, but there’s no real way of knowing. It’s been long enough that any signage has deteriorated. The building’s state of decay, however, isn’t what messes things up.
It’s the singular man that walks in from the opposite side of the atrium.
FEDRA’s favorite executioner. Slitted eyes far apart, thinned out lips, and graying black hair. Rarely seen away from the gallows, only recognizable to you from all of the nightmares you’ve had of his face being the last you see.
If it were drugs, you’d think nothing of it. FEDRA soldiers buy quietly from you all of the time – but they have no need for guns that they don’t already have.
Joel steps forward, merchandise in the duffel bag over his shoulder, none the wiser. A knot ties itself in the base of your throat. You’re too busy trying to figure out what to do, what to do, what to do that you barely even realize that the soldier has a gun aimed right between your eyes until you’re looking right down the barrel.
Your hand jerks to your holster, drawing your pistol in one swipe.
“Drop your fucking gun!” he barks in your direction. It clatters out of your hands. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Your hands fly up as you take a step back, nearly stumbling into a nearby crate. “Joel Miller and his bitch,” the man sneers. “What a lucky find. You two have quite the bounty on your heads.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joel says, face completely blank.
“Easy for you to say,” the guard says with a nagging smirk. “Your little cunt here already did. Pretty fucking dumb not to check who you’re selling your merchandise to, huh?”
Joel tenses, ultimately huffing through his nose. “Can we get this over with?”
“I’ll make it easy, Miller. Come with me alive so I get paid, or come with me dead so I still get paid.”
Joel’s fingers twitch behind his back, and after almost three years of working with him, it’s impossible not to pick up on the subtext. Keep him busy. His hand is already reaching for the revolver in his back pocket.
“Turn the other way. I can make this worth your time,” you say. “But you’re lucky if those sons of bitches you work for even offer you half the reward they’ve posted for us. Dragging the bodies from Area 5 to the closest checkpoint… you’d have your work cut out for you.”
“Yeah fucking right,” he spits. “You two have been running around free for too damn long. Causing too much trouble. Not anymo–”
The man’s mouth freezes around the words by the time the bullet soars throat the canvas fabric of Joel’s duffel bag and through the man’s jugular. The soldier’s hands claw for his throat while he gargles on the blood as he begins the descent to the ground. New blood, still pumping directionless from the split artery, joins the old.
Much like him, where he’s slumping against the ground, chest moving until the very end, your hands clutch at your own throat. “We need to go,” you say, knowing the rest of FEDRA will come looking for the firefight at any second now. Joel doesn’t move. “Joel!” You reach out to tug his sleeve, but he doesn’t react. “Jesus– move!”
Joel turns to face you, gun still hanging from his hand. His fingers flex around the grip. “What the hell were you thinkin’, little girl?” You can hear his breathing, amplified from how close he is to you. His once inexpressive face is now red, lips curled, skin tight like a crushed soda can.
“I– what?”
“Not vettin’ your buyers. First fuckin’ thing I told you all them years ago, wasn’t it? Gotta check so you don’t sell shit to the wrong guy, yeah?” He stalks closer to you – you stumble back.
Not vetting the now dead executioner, whose blood is currently creeping up to the soles of your boots. Your mistake, yes, a potentially catastrophic one that you’ll definitely never make again after this, but he’d been on your ass about finding buyers and after an entire day of burning bodies, the last thing you wanted to do was go asking around about the ‘John’ in search of guns that you’d talked to over the radio tower.
“We’re alive, aren’t we?”
Joel finally jerks his sleeve away from your grip. Your hand falls slack by your side, burning from his fire stoker touch. “And you oughta count your fuckin’ blessings for that. Dumbfuck of a girl, gonna get me killed,” he spits. Spittle flies across your neck.
You flinch – and not because you’re scared. You’ve never seen him like this before. You hear noise in the distance, the moving of FEDRA trucks, no doubt. “Joel! We can do this later – we need to fucking go–”
“Then you better start running,” he says gruffly.
You don’t need to be told twice.
You sprint out of the atrium, cursing as your bloodied soles carve tracks behind you. A stack of crates blocks the door, which you vault over and shimmy your way through the broken glass panel. The hallway ahead of you is dark, and you have no idea where the fuck you’re going, only that you can’t stop. Each impact of your foot on the ground is like being struck by lightning, carbonating the racing blood pumping through your body. More glass crunches behind you, and a shock of terror pierces you when you hear Joel’s snarls filling the corridor.
There’s a metal cart in your way, which you send whirling in Joel’s direction. He grunts, presumably hitting him in the stomach before it goes clattering on the ground. You make the most of the diversion, hurtling forward and lurching through a cracked door.
Dead fucking end.
An office, by the looks of it. Desks all over the place, leftover tasks still pinned on cork boards from outbreak day, chairs on their sides. You hear Joel huffing and puffing behind you, and fear forks through you. You fall to your hands and knees, crawling underneath the labyrinth of desks and tucking yourself against a wall, carpet-burned hand to your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your chest avalanches with every single breath.
“You ain’t off the hook,” Joel says, voice getting closer with every word. You can hear the thump of his boots against the carpet. See the spread of his shadow roaming across the wall. You squint through the seam of two desks. He's looking over his shoulder when you haul yourself across the room to the next closest desk.
You look around for anything that might get you out of this long enough to slip back out of the door. If you can make it back to the apartment, maybe he can cool off on his own walk back. You reach up for a stapler and take a brief second to peek over a filing cabinet before flinging it against the wall. It snaps open, spilling decades old staples all over the floor.
“Only a clicker’s fallin’ for that,” he tuts at you. His boots land on the floor again, one, two, three steps closer to you. You wince, balling your hands into fists.
All you can hear is the thrashing of your own heart. You scooch away from the desk – maybe if you throw something small at him, like a pack of sticky notes, it’ll be enough to abduct his attention long enough for you to slip by–
“You can’t hide forever,” Joel goddamn coos at you. You see him bending at the waist, scoping out the undersides of desks, seeking you out–
You crawl out from under the desk and book it to the door.
Stupid. Fucking. Idea.
Joel hauls you back by the belt loop, laughing as you cry out. You try squirming away, kicking at him, but his other arm wraps around your torso. It hits you then that you have no idea what he might do to you. You’ve trusted him with your life before, but what would he do when you risked his? You’d always been too scared to find out. He spins you, slamming you over the desk. You cry out as your chest meets the wood. His hand drags your wrists together, pinning them at the small of your back.
“Let me – the fuck– go!” you yell at him, trying to bend your elbow at the right angle to nail him in the chest.
He tightens his grip so much that you can barely move an inch. “Made your fuckin’ bed, gotta lie in it, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head at you. His hand grazes over your ass, and you stiffen as he looms over you. He is just a man. Your mind spins to the worst-case scenario. No, no, no, no–
“How about an… old-fashioned corporal punishment to set ya straight?” Within the next second, he’s yanking your jeans down your thighs.
Oh. Oh fuck.
“Joel–” you exhale, breath shuddery. “Knock it off–”
“No panties? I was gonna be nice and spank ya over them…” Joel frowns at you. “Poor baby. ‘S gonna sting real bad.”
You snap at him, “What, you want me to go to the local QZ Victoria’s Secret?”
Joel swats, hard, across your asscheek.
You’ve seen how intense Joel’s brute strength can be. You’ve just never been on the receiving end of it. A cry pushes out of your throat, and you hunch over the desk as you struggle helplessly against Joel. Tears spring at your eyes.
Mercifully, Joel runs his calloused palm over the smarting skin. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. ‘S okay, Jus’ gotta teach ya a lesson. Make sure it sticks.” He strokes the nape of your neck as you whimper into the desk.
You tense up in preparation for the second hit, but, if anything, it just makes the impact worse. It prickles your other cheek, leaving your knees shaky. And God help you, your clit twitches. Twitches. Your thighs are already heating up, and you can’t help but squirm in a good way underneath Joel. A single tear slips over your waterline, and you have to tilt your head into the shoulder of your shirt to wipe it off. You don’t want him to see you weak – not that weak.
The next spank makes him grunt from how hard he swings his palm into your backside. “Joel!” you shout, pain nearly splitting you in two. Your feet raise off of the ground as you prop yourself up on the desk, kicking uselessly at his shins. All he does is chuckle at you.
Horror sinks like a cinderblock in your stomach when you realize that your hole, leaking slick, is practically fucking winking at him. You thank the darkness. It’s about the only good thing about this place.
“You don’t like that?” he mock-pouts at you. It’s enough to make you throb. The opposite, you’d say if you could.
A series of spanks follows, but at least these are lighter, and in rapid succession. Still, you jerk with each impact, squirming so that your fingers dance in his grip. “Stupid little girl. Thought you could sell our shit to a FEDRA bitch and get off scot-free? Really thought you could get away from me, huh?”
You try clamming up, desperately attempting to close your legs together. You squeeze your thighs together, relieved at the pressure – and then you hear a resounding click behind you.
You still.
Joel’s gun, still fucking hot from the bullet it’d fired right into the executioner’s throat, traces up the small of your back… all the way to your throat. “Could put one right here,” Joel whispers, more to himself than you. “Show ya what happens to girls that don’t follow orders.” He jams it into your skin, and you hiss at the pain, at the bruise it’s sure to leave. And in spite of it all, you fucking gush. God, you’re fucked up.
He wouldn’t kill you – he needs you more than you need him. But common sense isn’t enough to prevent the thrill, the arousal smiting your body from head to toe.
“I’ll reconsider if ya give it a kiss.” He nudges the barrel carefully against your lips and you stop breathing for a second, maybe two. “Go on. Give it some lovin’. Suck it like a cock. I know you’re good at it. Hear all the guys you bring over.”
You whimper at the thought of Joel listening to you getting your hook ups off – at the thought of him fisting his own cock while he listens. Obediently, you part your lips, slowly, ever so slowly, taking the gun down your throat. It fills your mouth up in such a strange way – all hard edges. It’d be freezing cold if not for the fact that it’s a weapon of death, a scythe in its own way. One press of the trigger, and you’d be just like the guard. You suck even harder at it, eyes rolling back in your skull. Your thighs twitch, stripes of slick running down your thighs.
Joel reaches between your legs, grabbing at the meat of your inner thigh to spread you open. Instead, he gets a handful of the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs since he first bent you over the desk.
You freeze, pausing your ministrations on the pistol. He himself freezes before he drags his hips over your folds. His finger pads hover over your swollen clit before he properly rubs you once, and then twice. Your hips cant into the closest thing – his hand.
Joel makes a disgusted noise and swats your leaking pussy before shoving you forward and stepping back. You’re panting, properly fucked out even though he’d barely touched you. Cross-eyed, tongue hanging out, face hot. He looks you up and down, brows furrowing with revulsion. “Horny fuckin’ bitch. Creamin’ all over me. That long since you got action that a spankin’ and a gun in your mouth is all it takes to get you riled up? Pathetic.” He shoves the gun back in his pocket, still shining with your saliva.
He wipes your wetness all over your leg, grabs the back of your collar, and drags you to the floor in one foul swoop. You fall on your hands and knees again, ass still stinging from his treatment, lightheaded from how needy you are. Even his brutal treatment makes you whimper.
You reach for his calf, pulling yourself up to brace your dripping cunt against his boot. You rut against it, not even fully cognizant of your movements as you roll your hips, praying that he lets you have this if nothing else. Your orgasm, wetting his boot thoroughly. Your scent, clinging to him on the walk back to the apartment. You buck into the boot, moaning as the toe bumps against your clit. It might be enough, if you could just do it one more time–
Joel tears his shoe out from underneath you, face pinched with aversion. “No!” you cry, still grabbing for his calf. You fall onto your back, legs spread and panting. Your ass needles from his spanking. The ceiling tiles spin above you.
The same toe you’d been humping kicks into your cunt, and you yelp, curling in on yourself. Another tear slides down your burning cheek as you reach down to cup your sore pussy. Even that pressure feels like touching a live wire.
Joel looks down at his shining boot and makes a disgusted noise. “Does humiliatin’ yourself always get ya dicked down?”
He turns around, already walking away from you without a care in the world. The gun grip pokes out of his pocket, taunting you.
“Pull your goddamn pants up and get a move on. Curfew’s soon.”
#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller/reader#joel miller fic#writing challenge 2.0
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I love your blog 🙈 I rb from my sideblog @mykpopficblog and I will take anything and everything you have about svt x actress!reader. it's my faaavorite au. i just love the idea of a beautiful entertainment couple.
ofc :D that's a new setting for me, so i'll try my best to make it good
SVT MEMBERS X ACTRESS READER – HEADCANONS
how it would be dating seventeen as an actress
seungcheol
- i dont think he'd like to expose too much, probably would answer questions with just yes or no, because he knows the media and wants to protect you both and the relationship. it'd be easy to catch him staring lovingly at you at public appearance tho, being a point always commented online.
jeonghan
- would loveeeee to tease you, would mention you on interviews just to make a teasy comment. paparazzi pictures of you both laughing and joking around in public would be all over internet, or him annoying you, and people would reply with "couple goals" and such things.
joshua
- a gentleman wbk! open the car door for you when you're arriving in public events, hold your hand to help you pass through the crowd, red carpet pictures together and would leave for solo pictures of you because he thinks you're the most beautiful and would be a waste to have him in the pic.
jun
- i think he would choose to be secretive, once in a while, appear a picture of you both out together, and people always comment in your outfits and style. he would definitely mention you in interviews but without saying directly your name, because he just cant help, you're a big part of his life.
hoshi
- MATCHING CLOTHES!!!!! you always choose matching outfits when you go out in public and its always flawless; or you get each others pieces borrowed and people would notice it. fashion is a big part of your public appearance. clothes and also other matching itens like jewelry, polaroids and so on.
wonwoo
- another one who would get secretive about it, his face wont hide tho when you're mentioned. and that's why, you're like his weak spot, he gets all shy and excited when talking about you so he prefers to make it behind doors. not many paparazzi pictures, but nice ig fancy posts of your dates.
woozi
- are you dating or are you not? is it just rumors? people are curious about your relationship!!! there are public articles and speculations, only pictures of you together but with other friends or of you sneaking to his studio. people are quite sure but they just cant tell. you both choose to be like this, you're not hiding but prefer not to make it as public.
mingyu
- you really inspire him, he had had tried acting before, and you just keep making him want to try it more. he'd love it if one day you two get to act in a movie or drama together and always voice out his interest in interviews, saying how much he can learn from you and how talented you are.
dokyeom
- he's an actor too so it'd be a common scene of you two playing around on little sketchs. he also likes to help you rehearsal your scenes and learn your lines. he's very passionate about your work, makes you confident.
minghao
- likes to tease you about being jealous, a bit sulky and cocky but just for the fun of bothering you. he'd love to walk around holding your hands and the public chaos it'd cause, he just loves that everybody knows you're his. also, post pics of you or of you both together on social media.
seungkwan
- seungkwan is charismatic and known in different entertainment fields, so i sense this tom holland and zendaya type of public relationship. he wouldn't be afraid to praise you in his solo interviews and talk stories about your life together, this type of thing, you know what i mean?
vernon
- you're fucking biggest fan!!! he's known to be a fan of movies already, would watch every single work of yours, and mention it as one of his favorites in any given interview moment. most public appearances are on your premieres that he loves so much to go.
dino
- the type to get a bit jealous and insecure when you have to act as a couple with someone else, but he doesn't want to show it. he's very protective over you, loves to claim you at any given chance and talk about funny anotes of you two.
#wannabelife inbox#seventeen#svt fanfic#svt ff#seventeen fanfic#svt scenarios#yn#actress reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines
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BSD-Bibliophile Online Library:
Recently Published Translations
Novels, Short Stories and Poems
Articles and Essays
List of Books in English
Quotes and Facts Collection
Fun Facts
Author Connections
Photos and Handwriting Samples Library
Video Library
Bungou Stray Dogs Resources:
Official Websites and Twitter Accounts
Manga, Light Novels, BSD Wan! and more!
Translators and Translation Projects:
Maplopo
Sign up for their Reading Circle here.
Interested in learning Japanese from the translator? Join Maplopo Schoolhouse here.
Buy their translations on Amazon.
Japan Reads (Shelley Marshall)
Buy their translations on Amazon.
M Skeels
List of published translations
Free practice translations
.
Anne’s Side Blog:
My side blog where I post anything and everything that is not included on my main blog. The Ask Box is currently open.
Bungou Stray Dogs Discord
Join us, be a part of over a thousand members in one of the most active and friendly communities here on Discord!
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Today I bravely ventured further than ere I’ve gone previously into the twilight fandom and discovered in no short order: Garrett and Kate winning a poll as a side couple; fluffy (?) head canons about Edward and Bella; discussion of wholesome Cullen family holidays where everyone more or less gets along and likes each other (including Edward and Jasper even!!!); and discussion of how cute an adopted cat could be for Rosalie to look after. And there weren’t master lists! Or many textual references at all! They thought the animal-eating Cullens with super strength who terrify animals could have a pet without a problem!
I have retreated to the ranks of familiar metas where I’m not made to feel unduly cynical about it all and everything makes sense (… unlike Edward and Bella as a functional, healthy, genuinely in love couple after no demon pregnancy and he turned her???). Soon I shall once again venture forth but I think recuperation is in order. It was a surreal experience like watching the Harry Potter films with someone who hadn’t read the books and them thinking Hermione was a well adjusted person socially (… she refused to acknowledge Ron had a right to feel bad his pet died for a good part of a year, I don’t know emotional intelligence is on her list of outstanding traits).
Well, the point of this blog is that I have very poor reading comprehension and therefore completely fail to get what I was supposed to from my reading material. Very bizarre interpretations of canon result from this, and we get blogs like this one (or @thecarnivorousmuffinmeta for that matter).
It's a significant and important not to forget factor that Muffin and I developed our understanding of Twilight canon during quarantine, we were sitting alone in our respective homes going a little feral in ways we are still coming to terms with. We weren't always like this, at least not about Twilight.
As for the Twilight fandom, the thing is that a lot of the people I see on my dash and who I disagree with on a lot if not everything, tend to write much better characterised Cullens than I manage. I'm very happy with my fics and wouldn't do anything differently, but the fact remains that even people who disagree with me on a lot on the surface level still characterise many of the characters (with notable exceptions like Aro, who is one of this fandom's characterisation chameleons. Everybody has their own Aro) very similarly, sometimes better (this especially pertains to Edward, a character I find difficult to write).
Also, I have to warn you- if this was what seeing the Twilight fandom did to you, stay far away from Harry Potter fandom and if you do venture into the Harry Potter fandom, the second you see a post tagged "Lily Evans" in the wild you run. Close the tab, turn off the computer, because the odds of the post being wildly and/or hilariously misogynistic are ten to one.
#twilight#twilight renaissance#twilight fandom#harry potter#harry potter fandom#about this blog#darkwinganimus
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INFO POST
Name: Kylee (they/them). 30+
A totally normal Korean American mostly known for my drawings, specifically my Pokemon nuzlocke comics. But I will talk about other things on occasion because I do have periods of being fixated on certain topics. I also am a doctor!
Interests: Pokemon, League of Legends (everything except the game lmao), Fire Emblem, Advance Wars, Animal Crossing, Mother series, Korean history/culture, character design
General FYIs:
General inquiries/commission work/etc should be sent thru kynimdraws [at] gmail [dot] com! Tumblr messaging/asks/etc is not 100% reliable
I will not follow NSFW accounts but I am fine talking/interacting with them. There may be suggestive shitposting but I like keeping my content on the SFW side
I am VERY picky about who I follow/interact with online. Fandom content in particular is a minefield for me aka I have many things I dislike and don’t want to see, even if it might be a popular thing in media that I otherwise enjoy. Therefore, I will unfollow/block/mute liberally. There are times I accidentally block a blog bc I mistake them for bots. So if you got hit with that, just send me an ask or email me
I am very open about what I like and dislike, and none of those things are a direct attack on your sensibilities. I have never gone out of my way to directly send hate or whatever have you if I end up seeing shit I don’t like. My complaints in my little online space ain't a personal attack on you.
My ask/submission box/DMs are open for criticisms if you have any issues you want to resolve in private. No one is perfect and I may have done ignorant shit that needs to be pointed out. I have deleted or edited posts in the past if people tell me what I did wrong. PS I get that some of my stuff may upset you, but try to act civil when pointing shit out please.
I try to tag all my things whenever I can. Again, send me a message if anything bothers you. I am all for good debate but if you send me excessive hate or threats bc I have different opinions about matters that are trivial, I will block/delete them.
If you wish to use any of my hcs, please credit me. And if you are comfortable with it, send me the works so I can check them out! Or @ me if that is easier.
---
FIRE EMBLEM FYI: Specifically for 3Houses/3Hopes because I need a separate one for this franchise specificially given how many crazy things I got due to being involved in this fanbase via my fanworks:
DO NOT try to convince me to like or tolerate Byleth/student ships, ESPECIALLY the ones with the lords (aka CIaude, Dimitri, EdeIgard). I already summarized why I don’t like FE3H Byleth ships with student chars here. While the spinoff game FEW3H has now removed that teacher/student problematic situation, the fandom keeps putting the FE3H elements into the FEW3H fanworks (i.e. remembering Byleth from “another life” trope)...so no thanks!! DO NOT SHOW ME IT!!!
As for the Byleth ships with faculty members, my response is here so don’t try to bait me about that topic either thanks.
I do not care whom you ingame S-support. 3Houses limits the dating-sim part of the game to that character, so I cannot care less about how you play the game. The main issue I have is when people treat Byleth the “character” as a legit ship material when I personally think they are a cool character ruined by fans who are too obsessed with badly executed self insert otome tropes bc they self-project super hard onto them. Just to be clear, any FE3H or FEW3H OC/Canon >>>>>>Byleth ships personally. Even Byleth-sonas that remove the teacher/student aspects are better than canon FE3H!Byleth
Please don't drag FE VA statements as some sort of “gotcha” on my opinions like this post here. IDC what other people prefer with ship shit, that’s their problem and not mine. I am not gonna bother them about it. So don’t bother ME about it.
---
Links to check out:
Myths of Unova + Episode Grey (Pkmn White/White2 Comic)
Tales of Sinnoh (Pkmn Diamond Comic)
Art Site (Portfolio)
Twitter
Instagram
#psa post#pinned info post lol#updating this for myself and also to use the “do not reblog” feature from the get-go this way
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CageBlade 2024 Info!
[image credits to @asweetlovesong - thank you again, so much, for doing the banner!]
Here for ROUND THREE!
Event Info
Dates: 17-23 June (Mon-Sun)
All forms of fanworks will be accepted - fanfic, fanart, gifset, playlist whatever it may be!
If we somehow missed your post after the end of the event, let us know so we can reblog it! We might be a little slow on the day-to-day but we don’t want to miss anything. The only things we won’t be reblogging are NSFW with minors and explicit noncon. We will reblog late posts.
Make sure to tag your posts with #cagebladeweek (within the first 5 tags, thanks algorithm) and/or @ this blog so we can find and reblog everything.
Participate one day or every day - it doesn’t matter! If you post on an external site (AO3, FFN, DeviantArt) please at least drop a link here so we can reblog it and promote it. There will be an AO3 Collection started closer to the date.
Prompts:
Day 1: reunion / answers
Day 2: challenge / night and day
Day 3: clothing / hourglass
Day 4: growth / storm
Day 5: celebration / survival
Day 6: disaster / an AU of your choice
Day 7: Free Day!
You may interpret these prompts as strictly or as loosely as your heart desires. You can stick as close or as wide from the prompts as you want. Want to combine two? Go for it! Want to have some other characters cameo or tell a more ensemble tale? Sure - as long as it has Sonya and Johnny at the heart of it.
If you have any questions about prompts and submissions, send us an ask here! We look forward to seeing all the wonderful contributions!
FAQs:
1) Do I have to write in English?: No, you do not! This is a multi-language-friendly event. Post in your language of choice and users can machine translate if neededl. If you choose to write in one language and later post translations to English, those translations can also be added to the AO3 collection.
2) Can I write an OT3 fic?: The mods support polyamorous shipping, this week is for CageBlade specifically. We'd like that contributions focus on Sonya & Johnny's relationship.
3) Well, what if I write a breakup fic and have them hook up with other people? It's still CageBlade, right?: Not for this event. This week is a celebration of CageBlade and how awesome they are together. Want to give us some hurt/comfort, breakup & reconciliation, sure! Whump? Go wild! But we want to see them coming together and realizing how great they are as a couple.
4) What if I don’t like any of the prompts and have ideas of my own?: Then go ahead and write them! Want to explore their friendship before they hooked up? Want to write all AUs? Do you have some art ideas you’re just itching for an excuse to post and draw? Go wild.
Reblogs welcome. If you want to share it off tumblr, we have a Notion site now that we'll be updating with links to the collection, etc. as well as here.
#cageblade#sonya blade#johnny cage#mortal kombat#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat fanart#shipweek#fandom event
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Who's your biggest inspiration/s on Simblr? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!
okay this is going to be a veeery long post. i could probably name almost every single simblr i follow, but that would be impossible, so if you noticed me liking/reblogging your posts but not mentioning you - please don't think that you're not inspiring to me, because you are! <3
tbh i love the simblr community to bits and a LOT of people inspire me every day. :] i'll name some under the cut!
@aniraklova - she has such a unique sim style and has been nothing but a gift to the community by organizing events like edgewave last year or by being a badass person in general! love her! <3
@microscotch just one if not the coolest simblr imo :P keeps the love for sims 2 alive and doing some kickass renders in the process. simblr wouldn't be as much fun as it is without my Helenchen! <333
@vdshakh hands down the best simblr when it comes to renders. i can only dream of mine being that good. probably got me into doing some myself in the first place. i would reblog their renders every day...and maybe i should! <333
@puppycheesecake when it comes to cas related posts, i could stare at them all day and never get bored. the variety is insane! :] probably fundamentally inspired me to up my own cas game, so ty! <3
@strangetowntales you can probably tell that everything related to aliens/strangetown, basically that theme as a whole is already a plus in my book and i love their moodboards so fucking much!!
@beetlemp3 just their whole blog/aesthetic gives me tooth aches because it's so cute! when i need to treat my eyes to colorful screenshots/builds etc this is one of the blogs i think of first!
@birdietrait birdie makes some of the prettiest sims i've ever seen and is such a huge inspiration when i feel like i'm about to suffer from same-face-syndrom lmao. their sims just look like real people (if that makes any sense) also snoopy is life! :]
@squea there's just something special about squea's sims. can't even put my finger on it but i just love them (especially corn! he's a treat! <333) i also use her natural cas-lighting all the time and never found another one i like as much! :]
@fl0ptrait one of the coolest ppl i met here on tumblr! just all around so nice and also very talented when it comes to creating sims that leave me hot and bothered! °-°
@stellarfalls every time i see one of bree's posts i just feel incredibly humbled and honored by the talent and the love that must've been put into creating them. you deserve every single like and reblog and then some! ily :3
@cinamun not that long ago i already mentioned cin in a post regarding story simblrs i find inspiring, so i might repeat myself when i say that i'm in awe of the dedication she puts into her story. i can see it despite not actively following it and i love that! probably doesn't even get as much attention she should!
@alientown already love her for the name alone BUT (!) the sims she creates are really unique and have so much personality! just love looking at them and imagining what their stories could be! :]
@nigmos i could look at dee's sims all day and find more and more reasons why i find them to be so beautiful! every post of her on my dash just makes me really happy and gives me a lot of inspiration for my own sims! :]
@lilamausmaus she has probably one of the coolest sim styles (in my humble opinion) her game just looks like a comic and i love it so much! her nervous object stole my heart more than once T.T she's also one of the nicest ppl here for sure! i get so much inspiration from her posts! :]
@lucidicer honestly whenever olli posts an edit, my eyes just pop out of my skull in the best way possible and i'm not mad about that at all it's just fucking art! love him and his posts to bits (even though he didn't want to share his cheese sticks with me once... °-°)
@alelelesimz i always happy-cry in simlish when i see alelele's posts, especially recreations of sims from the franchise. I LOVE the urbz remakes so much, they're the absolute best and looking at them makes me want to replay this game over and over again T.T their blog is definitely a huge source of inspiration for me!
okay that was cheesy af but all of those simblrs are the first ones that came to mind when i read nonny's question, but by FAR not all of them. again, if you ever saw me like/comment/reblog your post, know that you're an inspiration to me too and that ily! <333
#venri replies#i'm probably going to cry later when i think of 1000 more blogs i could've mentioned T.T sorry in advance!
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Welcome to our blog.
Here, ve do requests of radqueer flags as amogi (amogus) from Among Us.
Vor drawings will very in quality and time, due to being disabled. Ve will respond to asks once the drawing is finished.
You may request however many radqueer, transid & para, flags, even muds, specific details/traits, much everything goes except wishid, lsdqueer & xenosatinism flags (excluding transxenosatism, translsdqueer & transwishid, as ve support all transids)
When submitting asks ve would appreciate attached images or links to the flag/s.
Examples
(yes this post will keep getting longer with each amogus drawn XD)
#radqueer#pro radqueer#pro radq#rq 🌈🍓#pro rq 🌈🍓#rqc🌈🍓#rq safe#rq community#rq 🍓🌈#rqc 🍓🌈#🍓🌈 safe#radqueer 🍓🌈#pro para#pro paraphilia#para#paraphilia#radqueers please interact#paraphiles please interact#paraphile safe#para safe#pro paraphile#transid#pro transid#pro transx#transx#medically unrecognized disorder#among us#amogus#art#radical inclusion
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selfship promo💕👻
🩷hi i’m bats and i selfship w my beloved p.erona💕 i made this acc mostly to post abt her i’ll be honest, and indulge in self shippy posting. it’s more of an oc x canon thing, but i still call the character ‘me’ if that makes any sense
🎀i’m rlly very very new to self shipping, i’ve tried to get into it in the past but couldn’t before, but i’m finally able to do so now. i don’t rlly know everything i’m just here to make my brain happy
🩷i don’t know if i’m rlly gonna write my own imagines yet or anything, i mostly made this acc just to start off and then learn from there abt what i’d want to post. i definitely plan on posting my art (some of it seen above)
🎀i’d love to have selfship mutuals! anyone to talk to about this kind of thing, i love looking thru others blogs, it’s always so cute and inspiring!
🩷some other things (unrelated to self shipping) that i like include anime/manga, horror media and lots of diff genres of music.
#selfship promo#self ship#self shipping#oc x canon#f/o community#romantic f/o#idk what to tag like i said i’m new#i always hear the term promo hour tossed around so i assumed there’s like#a point of most impact when i’d supposedly drop this…#if i knew anybody around here 🧍 since i don’t as such i have no idea what the point of most impact is#so might as well drop it now#man it’ll be hard to resist the urge to delete this if no one sees it but . musr resist#fictional other#IDK IF ANYONE WILL SEE THIS
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I don't know if anyone has noticed, but my posting pattern has been all over the place lately, and the majority of the fics are one-shots, but I want to reassure anyone who is worried that I might abandon the blog. I have no plans to stop posting or anything. I've just been preoccupied with other things, but my love for this ship hasn't faded. I'll still try to post every now and then while reading the occasional one-shot when the mood strikes.
TMI version:
In a couple of weeks, it's been a year since my dad passed away from pancreatic cancer and it's in the same week as my birthday of course. So it's been hard to deal with. I still can't believe a whole year has gone by since we lost him and I need to focus on myself for a little bit while also being there for my mom.
On a somewhat happier note - I've been working on my own fic! I haven't posted anything in 7 years so when the creative juices started flowing I just ended up hyper-focusing on writing in true ADHD fashion. It's been a lot of fun, to be honest, and it's been a great distraction from everything that's been brewing under the surface. But! There's always a but, haha. This, combined with the sudden change in weather, triggered a hypomanic episode so I'm still recovering from that. Anyway, I have no idea if I'll ever finish writing this fic, but I'm determined to just enjoy the ride while it lasts.
So, once again, just to be clear - I'm not going anywhere. You guys are stuck with me for a while longer and on the off-chance that my obsession suddenly goes away, I will still keep the blog up.
If you got this far, thank you for being awesome! Whoever you are, I hope you have a great day. I'm gonna go to a BBQ with my mom and aunt.
<3
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I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -
I am fine with "the audience" -
downloading my fics
printing my fics
copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics
sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3
making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss
doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc
I am not fine with "the audience"
doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity
feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever
Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.
Enjoy the fandom things.
#fanfic#ao3#archive of our own#fandom things#tumblr things#i may have said this at some point#i'm sure i have#but whatever - just in case#i don't say this with the presumption that i'm so amazing and people are clamoring to save my fics#but just if anyone is so inclined that's all#ftr i don't intend on ever removing my fics from ao3 or deleting fandom things from this blog#i've always shared my fandom things with the intent of keeping them shared bc that's the whole point of posting#but the fandom atmosphere and ao3 constantly being under attack who knows what can happen#not that this applies to anyone but should all else fail you can also reach out to me and i will personally give you a copy#at least of fics bc i save everything#not so much the tumblr things but this is a good reminder to myself that i should do that for the things i care about#that i've made or done and only posted here#anyway sorry i have now used up my quota of the putting words into sentences doing for today#i have plans to stare into the void now
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