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inkskinned · 7 months

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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

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undreaming-fanfiction · 25 days

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In honor of Easter...

Eddie Munson can't sleep. Maybe it was the almost expired can of spaghetti that he had for dinner, maybe it's the new campaign he's itching to plan, maybe it's being back in the Hawkins High with yet another fight for graduation he's bound to lose because his literature teacher was yet another victim of Danny Munson's petty crimes, and what better revenge than to repeatedly fail his son that Danny lost to social services ten years ago?

Or maybe it's the weird rustling under his window.

Now Eddie, he's a survivor. He runs, yes, but that's because there's nothing to protect. His honor? Oh please.

But if there's someone trying to break into the only real home he's ever known? That's different.

He grabs an empty beer bottle that he's been intending to throw out for a week or so and heroically - and stupidly - jumps out of his window. He expects to maybe land into a bush. Do a superhero landing or something.

What he doesn't expect is a pained wheeze and "what the fuck?!" yelled by his landing zone.

Eddie scrambles back to his feet and raises the bottle. Perhaps he should have broken it first to make it more threatening? He swings it against the trailer wall and it shatters almost completely, leaving with a small ring of glass in hand.

The figure he landed on curses again and tries to scramble back on their feet.

Eddie raises the pitiful remains of the bottle. "Uh. Stop you...you scoundrel!" he threatens, except it doesn't sound like a threat, more like a plea. "Or I'll stab you with this..." he looks at the glass ring again, "...with this."

He hopes the intruder will flee. More likely, he's going to be jumped, punched and killed. But what Eddie absolutely does not expect is the town's pretty boy, Steve Harrington, dusting his knees and glaring at Eddie with hands on hips like a pissed off soccer mom. "Jesus Christ, Munson, are you trying to wake up the whole park?" he hisses.

Eddie suddenly feels very stupid. He lets go of the broken bottle and it lands in the dirt with a quiet clink. "Harrington? Uh...dude, I mean no disrespect and all, but why are you under my window?"

Steve's look could kill. "It's Easter tomorrow, what do you think I'm doing? Hiding eggs." He points to the basket full of eggs nearby.

It makes sense. Except it doesn't. Eddie pokes the eggs and they don't explode, so at least that's good. "Why on earth would you, Steve "the Hair" Harrington, be hiding eggs in a trailer park? Don't you have like, a fancy neighborhood to do this in? With Belgian chocolate eggs and champaigne for the bored moms and stuff like that?"

Steve sighs and runs fingers through his hair. Eddie notices with a pang of guilt that it's flattened where his foot landed. That's also a good moment to realize that he's only in his boxers and a t-shirt and barefoot.

But Steve doesn't seem to notice. He just vaguely gestures around. "Those neighborhoods have committees and stuff like that. And it's normal there. Look, I don't think local kids have a lot of good stuff going on. I know one of them, and she deserves to have one day like a normal kid, no worries, no thinking if her mom can afford it. So I'm preparing an egg hunt here. Or I was, before someone half-naked dropped on top of me and shattered a bottle over a pretty good hiding spot I found."

"Shit! Sorry!" Eddie immediately starts picking up the shards, or at least tries to in the dark. At least until a large hand grabs his own.

"Christ, Munson! Stop!" Steve hisses. "Do you want to cut yourself? I will just move the egg somewhere else and pick up the glass before it starts in the morning. And for fuck's sake, stop moving! Do you want to step on a shard?"

That finally calms Eddie down. He sighs and hangs his head down. "You know, Harrington, one might think you're a good dude. If one wasn't careful."

Steve nudges his side. "One should be careful. Now come on, I will give you a boost." When Eddie stares at him, he adds: "to your window. You want to go back to sleep, no?"

Eddie clears his throat. "Actually, I was thinking I'd love to grab my sneakers and help you, I know a lot of good hiding spots. Is that cool?"

Harrington thinks for a moment, then he nods. "Yep, cool. Now, do you need a lift?"

Back in the familiar clutter of his bedroom, Eddie thinks it was a fever dream, a hallucination from a food poisoning, the final revenge of the spaghetti can.

But then he hears Harrington whisper after him: "Don't you dare come out without those sneakers, Munson! No bare feet are getting near shattered glass on my watch!"

And Eddie just snickers, leans out of the window and whispers back: "For you, big boy? I'll even wear pants!"

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie au #steddie easter #steve x eddie

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milla984 · 10 months

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With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different.

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?”

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing.

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed.

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?”

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly.

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs.

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again.

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear.

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit.

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled.

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance.

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff.

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open.

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood.

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs.

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile.

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

@hornyhornyhimbos

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

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strawberryblue-blog · 3 months

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Sea of love —Fermin Lopez.

summary: After being in love with Fermin for many years being Gavi's sister, he finally confesses and the sea is a witness of your love.

warnings: none. (mention of alcohol, discomfort, bad language)

word count: +4k.

#SEXYNOTE: I'm sorry for the delay :( I was taking exams. How is everything going? Kisses, love you <3

Laughter erupted in the living room when you saw your brother do something stupid. Everyone knew that Gavi was the life of the night and that his 'guess what' attempts were not something he did very well, even more so when he was drunk but he still ended up being the funniest thing in the world. Unfortunately your mood wasn't the best these days and you were just drowning your sorrows in alcohol.

Trying to forget.

Bottles of beer lay on the floor, on the living room table, sofa and even on the kitchen counter. Summer vacation was something you really loved when it came to coming to your house by the sea, where everything was surrounded by trees, beaches and flowers, a swimming pool with beautiful views and a summer barbecue.

Your parents and sister had gone on a trip and your brother had thought of coming with his friends and inviting your girlfriends for a great vacation. Something you couldn't say no to, as you had been looking forward to it for a long time but weren't excited enough to really enjoy it.

You loved this place but you hated being here right now.

Laughter and screams could be heard all around you, but you weren't really listening to them, not when your eyes were anchored on the boy sitting a few feet in front of you, as if he was the only person in the world. Trying to get his gaze back or at least a little bit of interest from him.

You felt empty, forgotten, ignored and trampled on. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Let's dance" your friend tried to take your hands, but you refused. "Don't be an old lady!" she shrieked snorting.

You smiled a little trying to hide your pain. Your spirits weren't very high today, nor were they a few weeks ago, not after he rejected you like that. You just wanted to drink until you passed out drunk and forget everything.

Falling in love with one of your brother's best friends was a myth for some but a reality for you. A reality that hurt.

Fermin Lopez was the typical young prodigal and kind, who has all the girls at his feet and with that angel face and smile that bewitches, you could not blame them. You had also fallen into his net.

But he would never touch you, his words, not yours.

"Did you come to cry for a man or to fuck three others instead?" your flirtatious friend whispered and pointed to the other members of the group, Ferran, Joao and Pedri.

Your gaze wandered to three drunken boys laughing and joking with each other, playing with your brother and your other friends. You laughed in denial they were just like that, a couple of idiots.

"I'll pass" you whispered. She nodded and kissed your forehead tenderly.

"Well if you don't, i do" she joked with an amused grimace. You laughed before finishing your bottle of beer and watching her walk off after the partying soccer players.

You got up from your spot and walked barefoot around the dining room to your slippers, quickly putting them on. You needed air or to get out of this place before you exploded.

Unseen, you opened the back patio door and stepped out hugging yourself as the evening breeze hit you. It was a pleasant night, the stars were shining brightly overhead, the moon was lighting up the sand on the beach, the tree branches were barely moving.

You sighed a breath of air and took it all in hard. You had been putting up with it all, the journey here, days eating at his side, nights criss-crossing him in the bathroom, evenings and mornings enjoying your own home. It was hell.

You were rethinking to yourself if it had been a good idea to come or if it would have been better to stay in Barcelona, in your small apartment with your studies and your strong emotions. You walked without fear, down from your house until you reached the beach, feeling the waves lapping on the shore. The lighting was dim but at least you could see perfectly where you were stepping and even the moon helped with that. You sat on the sand feeling it grainy under your body, sniffling dejectedly.

It had been at least a couple of years since you had felt this. The feeling of having everything but at the same time nothing, that everything was out of your reach and there was no escape. A tear fell down your cheek and you blamed it on the alcohol that had undoubtedly taken its toll on your body.

You closed your eyes smelling the warm scent of the summer night enjoying the feeling of your limbs burying in the sand when you took off your shoes and the salty of your tears sticking to your face when they came out uncontrollably. Feeling the sensation of being alone in front of the sea with only your feelings drowning you and your bad decisions.

You didn't want to go back to that living room knowing that Fermin was there. You had been on good terms but it was clear that you didn't want to be just his friend and he ignored you completely, except that he felt obligated to greet you when you met in the mornings or ask you for something because he was at your house when Gavi was busy.

After a while behind your back, you heard someone walking by but you ignored them. It was probably one of your friends, your brother or the boys seeing you leave.

Your body was surrounded by a thin layer of clothing, over your summer bikini, giving you validity when the breezes blew your hair. You touched the jacket on your shoulders and its scent came straight to your nostrils, making you bristle.

Damn it.

"What are you doing here?" you heard his voice above your peace.

Your body froze.

You hadn't expected him to come at all, he hadn't even seen you leave, in fact he had never seen you. What was he doing here? Why did he come? To keep hurting you? How dare he? First he ignored you worldwide as if you didn't exist for him and now he appeared out of nowhere with some concern?

"Y/n..." he called out to you when he heard silence. "It's late, it's not safe for you to be alone here, come in the house" he asked from behind.

You raised an incredulous eyebrow.

A hand from his hands touched gently, calling out to you. A shiver ran down your back but you removed your shoulder as if you were a capricious child. Fermin removed his hand quickly at your discomfort.

"I like being alone" came out of your mouth with some wariness.

"I know" he affirmed. Again there was silence but this time, Fermin moved and sat a little away from you. He was respecting your space, you had always liked that about him. He was cautious and kind.

"I like you too" you kept saying. Again you were sure it was the alcohol talking but it was so true.

Fermin sighed. "We talked about... this."

You clicked your tongue. A wry chuckle escaped your lips at the memory.

"Yeah, i know. I'm not your type and you only see me as a friend" you blanched your eyes sighing.

Suddenly, again tears invaded your eyes. But you weren't going to cry, not in front of Fermin.

"It's not that Y/n, you're confused and don't know what you want" he reasoned lifting his shoulders.

"What do you know what i feel?" you snatched raising your voice. "What the fuck do you know what i want!?" you shouted.

The situation was starting to make you desperate and to see him there, so calm with his soft voice and confident feelings. He clearly didn't want you.

"Gavi would never agree to this, it's not right. He's my best friend" he kept excusing himself.

Rage started to build up in your body every time a word came out of his mouth. Why the fuck did he keep making stupid excuses? First you weren't his type, then your brother and now what?

You loved Fermin. Since you were eleven you were in love with him but he never looked at you with different eyes. Was it so hard for him to tell you? Was he such a coward?

"Go away" you asked hugging yourself in the cool night. "Forget everything and fuck off" you spat.

The urge to scream got stuck in your throat when he looked ahead and sighed without saying anything. You were letting him go, why the fuck wouldn't he leave. He didn't want you to come closer, he had asked you explicitly, but why did he come here? He wasn't looking for explanations or he wasn't going to give them either, why had he come in the first place?

He had broken your heart into a thousand pieces from day one. You knew he went out with other girls and that didn't bother you but sometimes it was unbearable, it hurt. Even so, you always kept choosing to love him because the heart doesn't decide who to fall in love with. It just happened.

He had been Gavi's friend since you were little and with that, you also knew him. You had no memories where Fermin was not present as you became a teenager. He was the person who protected you and took care of you, the one who beat up idiots when they tried to get with you, the one who took you home when you were drunk, the one who covered for you when you went out with friends, the one who defended you from Aurora and Pablo when they played with you.

How could you not fall in love? If he was always sweet to you, always watching you with that smile on his face, always worried about you. Fermin wasn't just your brother's best friend, he was like your brother. But you hated that part. Because that was the answer to everything, you were just that to Fermin Lopez.

He knew everything about you and that was your weakest point. He knew how you felt, he knew you liked him and he knew how you were suffering. And that you were a disaster.

You got up from the ground and started walking to the sea. You wanted to get away from him as soon as possible, besides it was all he wanted but he was still there. Sitting silently with his head hidden between his knees like a coward.

Fuck it. Your feet came in contact with the water and you shivered as you felt it was freezing but you weren't going to stop. You were going in deeper and deeper as tears slipped down your cheeks, love was cruel and it hurt to be in love. Why couldn't it be reciprocated, why did it have to end like this?

I guess this was the end. Your end. Not the end you wanted but the only one fate had for you.

Shit fate.

You took a last breath before sinking into the freezing cold water shivering but when you submerged everything disappeared. Your clothes got wet and your hair floated but you didn't care that you were shivering underwater, you didn't hear anything anymore, you were just there. Sinking under your feelings with your broken heart.

The water surrounded your body and tried to push you up but you held steady under it, feeling the silence and darkness beneath you.

At least when you came out Fermin wouldn't be there. Or so you hoped because it would be really embarrassing for him to see you a mess. The mess he had made. He didn't care and it was okay, it was already a hopeless case. You were going to get over it.

Maybe Fermin was right and your feelings were confused or maybe you were infatuated and it would all pass. At least you were praying that when you surfaced it had all been a dream.

When your lungs began to feel the lack of air, you stayed in the water. You weren't going to do anything crazy but you needed a little adrenaline to take your mind off it. Your limbs were cold and the tears had stopped flowing and had mixed with the deep sea water.

Arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, pushing you out as your lungs took in air again in desperate gasps.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n!" he yelled trying to help you float, his hands holding your waist tightly as you continued to gasp for air.

Your vision was a little blurry, because of the darkness and the drunken state but your body recognized that touch. His soft fingers pressed against your skin and you trembled.

"It's fucking freezing!" he shrieked again at your silence. "Are you crazy?" he continued. "What would have happened if i left?"

"Nothing, stop acting like you really cared" you replied dryly trying to pull away. You wanted to swim away from him, back to shore and go far away but his arms stopped you.

"I fucking care about you, Y/n!" mentioned harsh. You moved your shoulders catching your breath but when he said your name you were out of breath again.

"Tell me what you want" he said angrily. It was one of the few times you had seen him like that, his eyebrows were furrowed, he was worried but you could tell his neck stood out and he was red, he was definitely angry.

"I told you to leave me" you said again gritting your teeth from the cold.

"I'm not doing it!" he replied but you denied and turned to resolutely get out of the water.

You heard it hit against the water but you tried again to get out, it held you again stopping you. The breeze hit your body and your skin bristled under the water.

"Tell me what the fuck you want!" he shouted at the top of his lungs and you looked up at him until you faced him.

"You, Fermin!" you shouted just as loudly. "I want you" your voice was choppy but you still screamed euphoric.

You weren't afraid to scream. You knew what you wanted and compared to him you weren't going to be quiet no matter if your brother or anyone else could hear you. Even though you were literally inside the sea, there was no one else around but the two of you and your friends were too busy partying to notice what was going on outside.

Your chest was rising and falling and despite feeling your heart almost explode, you dealt with it. Fermin was speechless and then you sighed in denial. Was that what he wanted? To humiliate you again? He had. It wasn't the first time you had told him how you felt but here you were still, feeling your heart break with every feeling.

"You don't understand" he murmured slowly. He was already calm and you were still on fire.

"What, Fermin?" you replied exhausted from the situation.

"I can't choose between you and your brother" he whispered and your heart jumped. "It's not fair" he said taking a step forward.

Why would he have to choose you? You weren't asking him to choose you, you were asking him to love you. This wasn't about Gavi but in some part you understood. And that terrified you too. But it wasn't a valid excuse when it came to love, it didn't matter at all when it was true. You understood perfectly well that sometimes love was unrequited but he always came close and made you feel special, as if he knew exactly what you felt having him around. As if he felt the same but ended up walking away or excusing himself.

"I can't put you in that situation, i can't put Pablo in that situation either" he kept saying. "You don't understand, you're beautiful and i really like you but it's not the right thing to do."

You nodded slowly. Your belly churned and your eyes threatened to tear up but you stopped them. You really had a hard time deciphering if his words were true or if he was trying to comfort you and excuse himself, either way it didn't make sense anymore.

"You are the most beautiful girl i have ever met, you are funny and caring, you loved your friends and family, you always take care of everyone and expect nothing in return" his hands cupped your cheeks and lifted your dull face. The waves gently lapped your bodies and the sound was music behind his words.

Your eyes were watery and your heart pounded, their cold bodies surrounded by water and their fingers were icy but nothing mattered. His touch burned your skin and you felt the closeness of their body, making you sway.

"You drive me crazy" he whispered. "You know what it's like to see you every day? With that beautiful smile but then when you see me it disappears, to see you sad and not being able to hug you, i can't touch you, i can't tell you how i feel about you" he confessed so close to you and your face cradled in his hands.

Were you still in a dream? was it true? or was it a lie? you no longer knew if this was true or if your unconscious was creating a parallel reality to your pain. Although his skin over yours indicated to you that this was really happening, you had never felt it so close, so true, so real before.

"Why?" you asked defeated. "Why don't you?" you pleaded.

Fermin caressed your face, shaking his head, his eyes lowered to your lips and looked at you hungrily, desperately.

"I can't" he barely said.

He wanted to kiss you. Those words were an attempt to converse to himself, Fermin wanted to kiss you. His voice trembled and he refused holding back.

"I can't" he repeated and you didn't let him think about it.

You were probably going to regret this but you couldn't help yourself and kissed him. You took his face and pressed your lips against Fermin's, taking him by surprise. But as if it was an instinct, he reciprocated a few seconds later.

The feeling of happiness invaded your stomach and you felt how the whole world revolved around you. It wasn't the first time you kissed a boy but it was definitely the first time you felt something like this. A shiver ran from the tips of your toes to your last hair and made you bristle. Fermin's hands took your waist delicately groping the area before placing them there.

The kiss was delicate, awkward and tender. As if it was a first time. Because it really had been, it was the first time you kissed Fermin and you knew it was going to stay engraved in your heart. The waves moved your bodies but Fermin's hands held you tight and made you feel safe.

"You have no idea what you just did" he whispered as your foreheads pressed together.

"I didn't do anything" you jokingly defended yourself.

"You do everything" he said again and cupped your face in his hands.

His eyes shone like headlights and you wondered was that if how the stars above you looked. The touch of his skin against yours was familiar, Fermin always touched you but this time it felt different.

Again his lips sought contact with yours but you stopped him, pulling away a little to make space between you. It was obvious you wanted to kiss him but you were afraid that after he kissed you, Fermin would run.

"You said we couldn't" you murmured biting your lip.

Nerves were itching in your belly and you were desperate to feel his lips but you couldn't let him hurt you again.

"You kissed me first" he replied whimpering. You smiled in denial.

"Because i know what i want!" you squealed determined. You had always known and not because you wanted to meant he could use you.

Fermin sighed releasing your cheeks. The chill ran through your body again as he moved a little further away, pulling away from you.

"Pablo is my best friend" he said scratching the back of his neck.

"So what?" you snatched, you were going to get it all out today.

It was all or nothing.

"Don't do this to me, y/n" he pleaded worriedly.

You weren't doing anything. Nothing he didn't want, was he going to blame you? Couldn't he set the record straight? For not wanting to admit how he felt?

Pablo was not an obstacle, you knew that if this was real he would support them. Of course it would cost him, first he would get angry and act offended, then he would too but in the end he would accept his. And if he didn't he'd be damned, it was your damned life and Fermin's.

"Aren't you afraid?" he asked taking a step closer. You lifted your shoulders.

Of course love was scary. Everyone painted it as something beautiful but after being ignored several times by Fermin you were beginning to believe that love was just part of Disney stories.

"It's okay if you want to let me go but you have to at least try first" you complained disappointed.

"I don't want to hurt you" he mentioned and his arms grabbed your forearms again. You wanted to pull away but Fermin took you in his arms and wrapped his arms around you against his body. Again you felt his overwhelming warmth and the cold disappeared, at times you felt on top and at others underneath.

"You already do..." you whispered so slowly that the words vanished on the breeze.

"I'm sorry, Y/n" he apologized squeezing you. "I love you and I don't want to lose this thing we have" he said in one ear.

"We won't lose it if you really want me" you admitted.

"I really want you" His eyes spoke before yours.

Your heart was pounding a mile a minute. You were agitated and excited at the same time, you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to touch him, you wanted Fermin to hold you and not let go. Your fingers caressed his locks of hair and his hands took your waist, rising up to surround it and stay on top of him.

"Let's not tell Pablo yet" he whispered kissing your forehead softly.

His words made you raise your head until you could see his face. Had he really said that?

"Tell him what, Fermin?" you asked pretending not to notice.

"About us" he murmured clear and precise.

Every atom in your body began to jump with happiness. A smile was marked on your lips and quickly spread it towards the boy.

About us. It sounded unreal coming out of his mouth. You had always had feelings for each other but only you would admit them. Now he was the one saying it and you began to wonder if that's what love felt like.

Fermin grabbed you by the face again.

"I've been in love with you for as long as i've known you, i don't understand how i could endure these years, i don't understand how i could push you away like this" he whispered caressing you.

Your eyes watered. The night was perfect. You surrounded by darkness, under the starlight with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the water surrounding your bodies, it felt like a real dream you had ever had.

Only this time it wasn't.

You were here, in the sea, your favorite place, with your favorite person.

"I really love you, Y/n" he said firmly.

He couldn't hold it in any longer and brought their lips together again.

#football imagines #football one shot #imagine #fc barcelona #fermin lopez #fermin lopez x reader #fermin lopez x you #pablo gavi

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cuddl3s4shur1 · 10 months

Text

•𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Earth 42 Miles x F! Y/N

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏: 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎:Miles owns a business to help with his job as The prowler, he gets a new assistant thats trying to end his marriage .

𝐀/𝐍: I was scrolling on tiktok and let’s just say , I got some inspiration. Lowkey got bored towards the end also it dosent have the much spanish which is ny fault

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:Cussing,Spanish might be a little choppy ( blame google) IM TRYING YALL IM TRYING For the story HE US AGED UP

Inspired by : Obsessed-Movie and Some random TikTok I saw .

You were at home relaxing ,I mean you couldn’t do that much sense you were 6 months pregnant.

You are waiting fir your husband to come home . You haven’t seen him all day since he goes to work so early.

You hear keys jingle at the door , who could it be…. It’s your husband. He smiles as he sees you getting up to greet him. “. ¿Cómo está mi mamá bebé descalza? (Hows my barefoot baby mama going )“ he jokes to you . “Im doing well baby daddy “ you joke back to him.

“ Cómo te fué en el trabajo ( how did it go at work)“ you ask him as you penguin walk to the couch.

“it was good but rico is on a family vaction, así que tengo que contratar temporalmente a alguien( So I have to hire someone temporarily)“ he tells you

“ok well you know , contratar a alguien que sepa hacer el trabajo (hire someone who knows how to do the job)“ you tell him.

he nods and heads to the bedroom as he stsrt to undo his tye.

You continue to relax , the baby starts to kick your stomach “baby come get your daughter “ you laugh .

“ Qué está haciendo ella ahora(What is she doing now)“ he asks , he walks out of the bedroom in sweatpants and a tank top and sits on the couch next to you .

“Digamos que le gusta patear (Let’s just say she likes to kick)” you say . “Sound like she might like track , cross country or soccer “ he says “I’m thinking soccer, she kicks really hard “ Yall both laugh.

“I need a break from work, you know how i said we are temoraroy hiring people“ he asks you . “Yes babe“ he tells you . “Hiring today was horrible I don’t think people was reading the qualifications for this job like at all “ he tells you , you start to chuckle.

“What happened,” you ask him .

“So this guy comes in , he sits down so I’m like “do you have any experience with research and finance “

So he like “to be honest no, mi mamá dijo que están contratando y no me quiere en su sótano (my mom mama said they hiring and she tired of me living in her basement )“

so I’m like dang ok . “Do you have any experience with cleaning because we have a janitor job” I tell him

“yeah my moms she made me clean and wash dishes , she made me wash the floor and the walls“ he told me

“Ok , I’ll contact you in two weeks to let you know about the janitor job” I told him

“Yo man thanks “ he said then he walked out .

“Baby , that man was so honest” he says he also made me want to laugh.

“That was definitely something“ you tell him

“I'm going to start with our dinner, tonight we are having chicken with rice “ he says and smiles . “Yum” you tell him

“Voy a ser chef’to(I’m going to be a chef) “ he laughs

“Mhm, tengo mi propio Gordon Ramsey( Mhm , I got my own Gordon Ramsey )you joke

“No no, Soy mejor que eso(I’m better than that)he says .

“oh is that so ,Yo seré el juez de eso(I’ll be the judge of that) “ you tell him.

“Cariño, recibí una llamada del tío( Baby I got a call from uncle), he probably talking about business “ he says . “That’s fine you can answer “ you tell him.

Miles starts talking with his uncle , basically talking about business and other stuff . You usually work him , since you guys are duo “Mrs. Prowler and Mr. Prowler. From then till now , you have experienced all of that job has for offer and you don’t have want that while your pregnant.

He hangs up the phone and really starts cooking . “Baby I got an assistant “ he smiles . “Uncle Aaron chose her and the assistant starts tomorrow “ he says . “That’s good that means you don’t have to worry about hiring “ you say

“Yup and that’s what I like ,Estoy de vuelta en el negocio, cariño(Im back in business baby). “ he says you smile.

“Alright business man how’s the cooking going “ you ask him .

“My bad , ill start now ,No puedo matarte de hambre (I can't starve you) “ he jokes

“At least you know “ you told him.

He cooked and you guys would eat dinner together .

But little did miles know that tommorow he got an assitant from ....

Hell

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @not-aya @html-nae @khamanix

#prowler x reader #the prowler #miles morales prowler #prowler miles morales #atsv prowler #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader #prowler miles morales x y/n #prowler #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles angst #earth 42 miles fluff

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menpopfeet · 1 year

Text

Serbian Hot Guys

#barefoot #feet #foot #handsome #bare soles #feet soles #big size foot #footballer #soccer #celebrity feet #serbia #serbian #balkan men #bigfoot

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swee7dream · 17 days

Note

could u do a cg!jisung w a nonverbal!fem!reader? idm the agere range for yn, maybe 1-3

nagging cg!park jisung x f!little!reader

genre agere content, slice of life, domestic warnings none dni if you sexualize age regression wc 733 a/n sorry i took so long to put this out ! regression block sucks ! ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧

synopsis all you wanted was a nice late breakfast ! why does your cg have to be so . . . cg-y ?

Little men in uniforms ran along Jisung’s phone screen. They chased after the itty bitty ball rolling across the artificially green field. Soccer is always a lot more intense than you think it should be but that hasn't ever stopped Jisung from watching it, today included. Jisung sat on the couch with his thighs to his chest and his phone two inches from his face, not wanting to miss a second of the highlights of last night's game. His gaze was dark and focused, but it broke when he heard the stairs behind him creak, eyes trailing off to see a familiar silhouette standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hi.”

You swayed side to side in your nightdress, barefoot on the floor. You held your gray rabbit plushie’s arm with one hand while the other was up to your mouth. Your nail slid out from in between your teeth so your lips could press into a line.

“Hi,” Jisung tried again, softer. His finger tapped the screen, freezing the whistleblowing and cheering. The living room went quiet, only the hum of the fridge and the breeze outside gently brushing by trees heard by the open windows. “Good morning.”

It only took a couple of waddles to get from where you stood to where Jisung sat. You gave a weak salute.

Hello.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” You scrunched your face up when Jisung’s cold hand held your cheek, his finger carefully getting the sleep stuck in the corner of your eyes. “Sleep well?”

You nodded with a sigh, bringing your bunny to your chest in a hug. With an almost pained expression, you made a ‘c’ shape with one of your hands and slid it down slowly, slowly, slowly.

Hungry. So hungry.

“I’m sure you are.” Jisung clicked his tongue. “You slept for, like, 12 hours. I thought you started hibernation in spring.”

You brought your eyebrows down to a ‘v,’ staring up at your caregiver very much unamused. You were tired, sure, but that didn’t mean you turned into a bear. You were still very much a human.

The balls of your feet took little steps backward as you pulled on Jisung’s shirt. With your bunny tucked under your arm, you signed out your cry of hunger once more.

“Okay- hey! Hold on. You’re gonna stretch it out.” He placed his hand over yours, carefully undoing your fingers' tight grip around the sweatshirt and giving you his hand instead to pull him into the kitchen. His other hand brushed off invisible dust off the dark material and he looked down for any damage with a face that would usually make you laugh if not for the fact that you were about to die if you didn’t get food in your stomach in the next few minutes.

“Sit your bunny down at the table and go wash your hands. I’ll make you your breakfast,” Jisung said as he rolled up his sleeves. He left no room for you to argue, his back already turned toward you as he led by example at the kitchen sink. “Did you use the restroom before you woke up?”

Why does it matter? You just need food. You wished you had socks on so you could have dragged your feet as you walked but you didn’t so you opted on just sighing dramatically on your way to sit your rabbit on the chair next to your usual seat. You brushed the fur out of his eyes. Now he could see again.

“Bathroom.”

Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom, you mocked him as you made your way over to the restroom. So bossy. Jiji’s always so naggy during mealtimes.

“All good? Hands clean?” Jisung asked, holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers. You just nodded. So maybe you did have to go. Big deal. Your eyes just looked beyond him over to the table.

Cereal! Your eyes sparkled. In your favorite bowl! With the matching spoon and everything… this guy isn’t so bad after all, you didn’t think.

“Go eat.” He pointed over at your seat with his nose right before being tackled off his footing.

Your arms slid around his torso and you squeeze with all your might. You’re the best! Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” You felt his lips press against the crown of your head. “Remember to drink your two cups of water. You can’t get up before those are finished.”

Ugh.

#agere sfw #cg!nct dream #kpop agere #nct dream agere #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #park jisung x reader #little!reader #kpop little space #agere fanfic

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soberscientistlife · 11 months

Text

Sadio Mane, a Senegalese soccer star, earns approximately $10.2 million annually. He gave the world a rude awakening after some fans were flabbergasted when they saw him carrying a cracked iPhone 11.

His response was awesome:

"Why would I want ten Ferraris, 20 diamond watches, and two jet planes? I starved, I worked in the fields, played barefoot, and I didn't go to school.

Now I can help people. I prefer to build schools and give poor people food or clothing. I have built schools and a stadium, provide clothes, shoes, and food for people in extreme poverty.

In addition, I give 70 euros per month to all people from a very poor Senegalese region in order to contribute to their family economy.

I do not need to display luxury cars, luxury homes, trips, and even planes. I prefer that my people receive some of what life has given me."

Not a new story, but it shows a very wealthy man being a very good human.

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softlyspector · 10 months

Note

Wait would you be interested in doing first conversation alone with Joel? 🥺🥺🥺 The silent tension of knowing you've both been anticipating the right moment to get a word in with and to each other but neither of you wanting to show your hand too early in fear of spooking the other off ugh you'd write this so good

summary: you and joel have been dancing around your feelings for a while. that changes one hot summer day.

pairing: pre!otbreak joel miller x reader

wc: 1.5k

warnings: pining and more pining, uncertainty and mild anxiety, making out

Joel’s backyard smells like summer.

It smells like chlorinated water, the overripe coconut of sunscreen on warm skin, the smokiness of the still cooling grill, fresh air and sunshine. The bland, faintly plastic smell of the umbrella propped open over the table laden with barbecued food emanates down over you and Joel, cocooned at least partially away from the baking sun.

It’s a toxically hot Texas day, the sun beating down from above relentless and scorching. Sarah and a catch of neighborhood children jump through the sprinkler at the edge of the yard, in front of the soccer goal Joel had built for her with spare wood left over from a recent job.

Tommy, before you can stop him from leaving you alone with Joel, tips himself up out of the lawn chair he’d been lazing in in the sun and makes himself useful by grabbing the hose to start a water fight with the kids. A chorus of screeches go up, echoing back Tommy’s booming laugh.

Joel huffs under his breath at the show. “I swear,” he starts with a shake of his head. “That boy is never gonna grow up.”

You laugh and nod, distracted and overwhelmed with the prospect of sitting alone with your neighbor you’ve been pining over for the better part of a year.

Joel leans closer to you, resting his elbow on the arm of his chair. You suck in a breath. He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his skin burning into yours. He smells like sun warmed skin, the spice of his cologne, and sweat.

He’s too close to you, the side of his thigh nearly touching yours, his wrist brushing the back of your hand. He’s wearing brightly patterned swim trunks that you’re fairly sure he never would have donned if not for his daughter gifting them to him on father’s day a few months prior.

His shirt is the same utilitarian plain black it always is, though you can’t imagine how he stands to be in it in the heat. You wish he’d strip it off, and your skin heats further at just the thought. You want to see his broad shoulders bared to the sun, watch the twist of muscle in back while you sip on something cold.

He's barefoot, too. And something about that makes your heart clench in all its painful homely domesticity.

“They seem, uh,” he glances over at his brother and then the children he’s being rapidly overwhelmed by. “Pretty occupied, I guess. Wanna help me get some more drinks?”

His gaze is intense when you meet his eyes, the buzz of insects and the hum of the next door neighbor's overworked air conditioner drowning out any other noise.

“Sure,” you murmur. “What are we short on?”

“Well,” he pushes to his feet, “Let’s take a look, sweetheart.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, like a cavity has cracked open and the thing is spilling over your ribs.

It’s an overdramatic response that you don’t try to quell. Not anymore, not after months of trying to shove those little pin prickly feelings away.

He inventories the cooler that sits in the shade of the back deck before beckoning you towards the backdoor. His hand runs up through the back of his hair, ruffling it as he holds the door open for you.

It’s only marginally cooler inside. “Sorry ‘bout the heat,” he says as you trail behind him to the kitchen. “Air is busted and I haven’t had time to—Tommy was supposed to look at it. We got caught up in a job this week.”

You hum and lean against the counter, watching him pull open the fridge. His eyes close briefly as the relief of the cold air hits him. “You could go run around in the sprinkler. I’m fairly sure Tommy would be more than happy to hose you down.”

Your belly flutters with nerves as you watch him. Though you’ve spent more time with Joel than you can rightly catalog, it’s always been in the presence of one of the other Millers, or any one of the other neighbors that line your street.

You’ve been dying for a moment alone with him, but now that the chance has arrived you aren’t sure how to navigate it. You get along well when other people are around, in a comfortable way you aren’t used to with most. His gaze always lingers long on you, and yours on him, neither of you ever able to find a way to manifest the attraction that existed between you like a tangled spider’s web.

But he’s busy and so are you and the opportunity to talk alone never seems to present itself.

This afternoon in the Millers’ backyard is a rare exception for all of you.

He snorts at your teasing and pulls a few beers from within the depths of the fridge. “I’m mighty sure he would be,” he agrees. “It’s still a damn problem.”

“You’re doing the best you can,” you shrug, stomach flipping when he pulls out a few juice boxes and cans of coke before leaning next to you at the counter. “You work so much. It’s understandable.”

He nods, watching you closely.

You’re sure it's your overactive imagination telling you his eyes linger for a moment on your lips before his gaze meets yours.

He’s so close.

The smell of sunscreen overwhelms you again, the comforting smell of summer sun on skin.

How many times have you been here, on the precipice of being alone with him, of sussing out what he might feel, if the tension you saw was only one sided, only to be interrupted?

Now that you’re here, alone, waiting, you can’t seem to find the words to prod at those soft spots.

Your throat closes over the words like a clenched fist.

Instead you start to straighten, pulling away from him to offer to carry some of the drinks out into the backyard.

It’s silly anyway, to hope. It would only make things awkward between you and his family if your squirreled away feelings were entirely one sided.

“Hey, uh,” Joel’s hand catches at your wrist. “Why don’t we stay here a minute? Cool off.”

“Sure,” you say, even though you have found no relief inside his house, surrounded by all the signs of family life and quiet domesticity.

A brief moment of tense silence passes before he sighs. “I ain’t really—I’m not so good at this.”

You frown and tilt your head. “Good at what? Impromptu backyard barbecues? I’d say you’re doing pretty well.”

He shakes his head. “Not sure I’d call it impromptu,” he disagrees. “Not when it was all Tommy’s harebrained scheme to—”

“What?” You laugh. “Fight off eleven year olds with a hose?”

“Get you all by yourself,” he says and all the breath goes out of your lungs. Your eyes go wide and you’re sure you must look the picture of shock. “He’s tired of all our dancin’ around each other,” he reveals. “Or so he says.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Joel rubs a hand over the back of his neck and looks away. “I told him he was seein’ things that weren’t there.”

You frown at the flush that’s slowly creeping up his neck. “Well, who said that, Joel?”

“Is there. . .somethin’?”

You brace yourself, suddenly feeling incredibly wobbly. “Sure. For me.”

He pauses, the length of that silence piercing and deep.

Your chest feels like it might cave in, like the cavity and your leaking heart might splatter right onto his kitchen floor.

You still haven’t quite caught your breath when he slides an arm around your waist and tugs you close. His fingers knot into the back of your shirt while his other finds the side of your neck. Joel’s thumb digs into the underside of your jaw, his eyes searching yours briefly before he kisses you, apparently satisfied by whatever he saw.

He tastes like the beer he’d been sipping outside, like the lemon sorbet he’d presented to you earlier in the afternoon, nonchalantly mentioning he knew it was your favorite. Silly, so stupid, both of you.

But his mouth is warm against yours now, his facial hair tickling your cheek. The kiss is prying, searching, like he’d find the purest kernel of you if he looked hard enough, kissed you well enough.

You tuck your hands inside his shirt, the warmth of his skin hotter than the sun outside.

Your mouth falls open when his hand runs over the curve of your ass and squeezes the flesh gently. The tips of his fingers brush the back of your bare thigh before sliding up again to flirt with the strip of skin bared between your shirt and shorts.

A moan slips past your lips and Joel’s lips twitch into a smile against yours, like he’s proud of himself, like maybe he’s happy. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “Well, that’s somethin’ to work with at least.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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