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livelaughlovesubs · 3 days

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Incubus fyodor 1

Dom!priest!reader x sub!incubus!fyodor

Warning: pegging, CNC, against a wall, in a church lol, also taking virginity??

Sometimes I use strap, most of the time dick or whatever. Then anyone can feel included? Idk?

This was requested by 🍮 anon, like a loooong time ago. Gonna repost it now :> (was too lazy to do so but now that you are back-)

Fyodor was just wandering around, looking for his next victim. It was boring to keep staying at one place, he always craved something grandiose and better. One day he ended up at a church after going around town, he detested those places due to his nature. But then he saw you through the windows, a diligent priest working for god. Proud, hard working and kind. What a sight, you must have never known the pleasures of the flesh. Oh how he pitied you, guess he will just ‘enlighten’ you then~

The incubus was wandering inside the building, looking everywhere for you. Until he found you in the chancel, the sacred place. Perfect, let's see how sacred it will be after he defies god’s little helper. Protecting one’s innocence? How laughable.

Fyodor walked inside, wrapping his hands around you and holding you from behind. Hands running all over your torso, grinning in delight as he said, “come on, let's have a little fun~ I can fulfil all your fantasies...” before he could even react to it, you took hold of his hands, turning around and twisting them in the process. “aAHH-”he yelped, falling backwards and taking a few steps back, his body hitting the wall. Your hand pinning his wrists over his head, knee pressed against the wall in between his legs. He felt you apply pressure to his crotch.

The boy gritted his teeth, showing his fangs. "Are you a demon?" You asked nonchalantly, while he struggled against your strength. Fuck, why were you so strong? “Yea and? What, gonna exorcise me? Haha.” “An incubi probably, by the way you were touching me.” You came to that conclusion, not an ounce of emotion present in your voice.

Continuing on as if you didn't hear him, thinking for a second. “I suppose you wanted to feast on me?” He stared at you with a skeptical look, why did you seem so interested? Before he got the chance to ask you, you commented, “I'm sorry that you were born this way, having to rely on such sinful acts to survive.. what a pitiful being.” “What, oh no you are the pitiful thing here, I bet you don't know what pleasure is, all because of some prideful faith. Want me to teach you?” Fyodor said cheekily, grinning as he looked up at you, his knees bend slightly due to the position.

“Don't get me wrong, I don't detest your kind. God has taught us to accept anyone. In fact, i’d be willing to help you, so that you don't need to bother other innocent souls. It's the duty of a priest.” He didn't understand what you were hinting at, for him you were talking garbage. “You aren’t going to seal me or anything?” The demon was genuinely confused, you want to help him? Why? “No need to fear anything, I'm sure you have experience in this field after all.” Next thing he knew you turned him around, his back arching like a crescent moon. “What are you…” suddenly you pulled his pants down, exposing his plum butt. “Huh?! wha-" poor him, that incubus was super confused now, this can't be what he thinks it is right?

Seems like his worries came true, it was what he feared, he knew when he felt your tip press against him. “Hu-huh? Wait a second..! I-I thought you were...” “I've learned many ways to deal with succubus or incubus, don't worry I'm quite experienced too.” Then you entered him, yearning a surprised moan from the male. “Ahh..!” Fingers desperately gripping the wall, looking for anything he can clench onto, eyes looking back and trying to understand the situation. He was getting… topped? By a priest nonetheless??

Him? Up until now he has only ever been on top. What experience, this is his first! Fyodor felt another push from you, the strap slowly driving into him. “You are so tight... ah, what's your name?” “Why do you care, pull it out!” “I'm sorry, I can't do that.” “Why?!” “Because I have to subdue you first, to make you submit.” Your voice was serious as you said that, pushing more of your dick inside him. “UgHh! Slo-slow down...gentle, gentle! Ah, hu-hurts..” the boy whined now, crying softly as his dick twitched in excitement. “Oh? It is your first? Maybe you aren’t as dirty as I thought.” Still using the same emotionless voice as before, you kept unintentionally leave snarky remarks behind. All while your free hand collected the slick around his rim, covering the toy with it.

“So wet already, more than many others of your kind.” Were you mocking him? He wanted to insult you, if only the dick wasn't making his mind go blank. “Ahh...you, I won't-mhm! Fo-forgive you.” “I don't need your forgiveness, only gods.” You said, before starting to move and trust into him. Then you explained, “in order to excuse this sin I had to commit due to your existence, we will have to work hard to beg for forgiveness.” “AhHh! Ah-aHh.ah. Oh-uhh..uhm! Nghh..!” Each trust was paired with whimpers or a moan. Cute squeaking sounds escaped him, face and shoulders flushed red and figure covered in sweat now. His filthy fluids were running down those slim and shaky legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head. What was he doing, didn't he plan on fucking you at first? So how was he getting dicked down now. It was still too hard to comprehend. Yet it felt so good.. it was melting his brain, he has never felt anything this amazing before.

“Such inappropriate noises you are letting out, i guess you are enjoying yourself?” The hand which you used to collect his slick was now on his hips, holding him in place since he kept trying to wriggle his way out, trying to escape those blissful sensations. “Ah..wait..ah-Uhm! This is..no-no good..stop aHh!” He whispered, shortly after tears started rolling down his blushing face. You only picked up your pace, going faster and rutting into him roughly, sometimes you'd brush against his prostate which made him cry out even more. “Ah-aAhhH! OOHh! I'm c-close.. m’gonna cu-cum.” Fyodor breathed out, his entire being quivering in pleasure. This was heaven. Don’t get him wrong, he knew nothing of heaven but this is how he'd imagine paradise to be like. He was filled with pure ecstasy, it was damn addicting and he doesn't think he will ever get over it.

“You have to beg for forgiveness, and to excuse your pathetic self.” You whispered into his ear. Like a spell he couldn’t disobey, he immediately began pleading with.. whom? God? You? Ugh.. to think he had come this low. “AhhHhAA!! ohHh! For-forgive meHHnghh~..!!” His release came in torrents, coursing through his veins and making his legs go weak. He felt so helpless, so exposed and vulnerable with you. And it was the best feeling he has ever experienced, never in his life did he knew something like this was possible. Those noises were filled with desire and longing, loud and clear as he painted the wall white, “aAhHahhhH~!” A shudder ran down his spine, hole clenching down onto you.

The slick was all the way down to his knees now, and he was still lost in subspace. Guess the climax was pretty intense, rendering him to such a whiny mess. You weren't sure if he could understand you, but you tried it anyway. “So, may I inquire the name of you pitiful thing?” There were no answers, only breathy whines and pants. Eventually he gasped out his name meekly, mumbling, “fyo-fyodor…” After blinking a few times, you leaned down to his ear and uttered in a seductive, as well as sadistic voice. This was the first time he heard your tone change. “I'm going to keep you here, so that you wont cause troubles for others. You don’t mind being my pet fyodor, isn’t that right?” And you let go of him after finishing your sentence. Hands leaving his body. Ahh..another shiver travelled down to his core, how could he ever refuse such an enticing offer? Without your help, his legs finally betrayed his body as he crashed down onto the ground. Sitting there looking all ravaged while a sticky white puddle formed beneath him. Fyodor looked at you over his shoulder while panting heavily, tongue hanging out from his blushing face like a dumb little pet.

Part two

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corollaservant · 13 hours

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Sweet Delight // Gojo x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: You are too nice to be serving rude customers for minimum wage. Rest assured that Satoru will take care of it.

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, noncon/ very dubious consent, somno, stalking, knives, deception, mind games, murder mentions, violence (not to reader).. that's all.

A/N: Yan!Gojo is Joe Goldberg to me, idk. Beta read by my guy bsf who said the ending sucked.

It started on a Friday afternoon.

He was a regular, came to the store every day to get his coffee. No sugar. Iced. The order was unlike him, he seemed sweet, or at least friendly and inviting, he had the type of eyes your friends gushed over when talking about their favorite movie stars, too blue, too inquiring.

At first he smiled and handed you a bill, told you to keep the change and asked you if he could sit outside for a bit. Of course, why wouldn’t he? The store offered it and he knew it, he was just being polite. He would read from a book, whose cover you couldn’t see, seemed too absorbed and you often wondered how he could concentrate with the café’s obnoxiously loud music (owner’s order to attract customers). He’d more than often catch bystanders attention, be it his white hair, his tall physique or his peculiar blindfold, which he wore sometimes instead of sunglasses, the man was attracting people like a magnet. This one time a couple of girls sat down next to him and talked purposefully loud. He lifted his chair and brought it closer to the register, closer to you. Yet he still didn’t speak.

The first time he spoke to you besides a thanks and can I sit outside for a bit was when a customer harassed you verbally. You got the order wrong and while you offered a second free drink, he started calling you worthless. Your eyes watered and voice broke as he stepped in

“Please do not offend the barista, it was a simple mistake.” He spoke calmly while being twice the size of the customer.

“This is none of your business, sir” The customer scoffed as he tried standing upright to make himself taller.

“I said” Satoru sighed “please get the fuck out the store or it will be, sir” and while there wasn't any physical threat, the tone was convincing enough to have the customer backtrack, hiss and leave the store empty handed.

“I'm sorry for that.” You told him as he looked at you.

“Don't be, this wasn't your fault.”

“I'm Satoru by the way, remember me?”

Of course you did, he was the most loyal customer.

—

It happened on a Friday afternoon.

Your shift started at 1 PM and ended at 9 PM sharp. Satoru had a meticulous routine: 1-3 was for observing. He wouldn't call it stalking, no, that word was degenerate and he wasn't like that. He was just observing you, your hands, as they moved, expressions as you skimmed milk and some of it spilled on the counter, your interactions with customers. He couldn't risk another incident like before. 3-6 was when he usually made an appearance. Black coffee. No sugar, iced and the table just across the bar; close but not too close. He was disappointed today, you hadn't looked at him once, well, in your defense the café was crowded yet you still looked gorgeous, even with your sleep deprived eyes and disheveled hair, so soft and pure. He loved that. What would it take for him to get your attention? He found himself balancing between proclaiming his feelings and showing you them but decided on the latter. He would – today.

6-9 he had to wait in his car this time, it was raining but he couldn't leave you out of his sight, what if something happened to you? Your stupid manager had you close the store at 9 PM all alone in the dark, what a cheapskate cunt, not hiring a second person on the shift. Should he kill him? No, that’d be too soon. He would make an appearance before nine anyways.

8:40 was when he got out of the car, sloppily wearing a balaclava he’d gotten from Suguru (his seventh grade ninja Halloween costume) and his usual black work uniform. A knife was in his hands as he noticed you from across the road washing some cups. Perfect, you weren't looking but also careless of you, exactly like he expected. He barged in the store and tried his hardest to make his voice drop an octave deeper, shit, would you recognize him?

“Give me your money or I'll stab you.” He laughed internally but had to put on a fake growl, your expression was priceless.

“P-please don't kill me!” was the first thing you mewled as your poor hands started shaking.

“I said now.” He said as he stabbed the blade in the air. Damn, that was too easy, you were too gullible.

“P–please I will, I-I am all alone.. I- one moment-'' Poor you, you had already started crying, tears were falling down your face but you didn't seem to notice. Should he stop this now? Probably.

“How incompetent are you? Are you this slow with customers too?” He decided to tease you a little longer, thriving off of your reactions.

Your eyes shot up for a brief second, was it the customer with Satoru a few days ago? He had said something along these lines, but this couldn't be. He was way shorter and had stopped coming ever since Satoru put him in his place. You were thankful for that.

Your hands opened the register as the paper bills you held threatened to soak, you still had one glove on, you looked a bit silly.

“Hey, hey..” Satoru’s voice returned as the mask was removed “It's just me, see?” he whispered, trying to soothe the tone as your eyes widened.

“S- satoru, what?” Your voice trembled as the cash fell from your hands and you took a step back.

“I wanted to pull a prank on you, I'm sorry if I scared you” He smiled apologetically but you still couldn't utter a word.

“W-why would you do that? That's sick!” you cried out as he came behind the bar and tried to pull you in embrace, knife now tucked in his jacket. To get close to you, to teach you a lesson, to make you need me would be his answer. You punched him on the chest, muffled cries escaping your lips. Well.. you couldn't land a blow, that was for sure, but you seemed cute with your clenched fists taking out your anger on him.

“F-fuck you!” You yelled as his firm hands stopped you and you sobbed on his chest. You smelled divine, even at the end of your shift.

Was this love?

“Hey.. come on now, I'm sorry, okay?” He said as he pulled away.

“Came to say I'll stay with you until 9, it's not safe out there.” He promised as you wordlessly returned to the sink. He'd make you love him.

Around 9:10 you closed the store. His prank had slowed you down, exactly as expected, he'd figured it wasn't often you lost control and he was proud, it affected you. You silently sat with Satoru outside while he insisted on driving you home.

“I don't need a ride. I'm fine.” It wasn't funny to tamper with your feelings like that, he didn't seem like the type and he'd taken you by surprise – actions like these didn't align with the image he painted for himself. He was always so kind, so protective, so–

“Give me the fucking store keys!” was heard before you turned your attention to the voice ahead of you. A man shouted, not too loud to alert anyone but enough to make a point. The street was empty and he was holding what seemed like a paper bag as you turned to Satoru.

This surely had to be another one of his pranks? You were about to laugh when you looked at him. He seemed taken aback, frozen in his spot and his eyes squinted as your heartbeat accelerated.

“What is it with this neighborhood and robberies?” Satoru talks after a while, his tone is confident as he looks at you and the guy growls. Why is he so calm?

“Shut the fuck up and give me the keys or I'll fucking blow your heads off!” The man says moving his hand to your direction, was this guy bluffing? Did he even have anything under the bag? You wouldn't risk it, everyone talked about the criminals in the neighborhood, you’d never work there if it wasn't for necessity.

“And if we don't?” Satoru stops you from reaching for the keys as he fights hard to wipe the grin on his face. Well, that was unexpected, but he isn't scared, he never is, as you interrupt.

“Satoru! P–please! Let me give him the keys.” You cry out, the day straight out of a nightmare and you honestly can't put up another fight. You'd rather have whoever this was steal an insignificant amount of money from the register than end your life. Sure, there wasn't much to live for, but it was always different when under real threat.

“You’d give him the keys, really?” He scoffs annoyed. He couldn’t believe what a victim you were, couldn't you see he was right there for you? Despite his abilities you still failed to see him. Silly you.

“What c-can we do? He..he– and we–” Was this really the time? Why is he even negotiating this?

“Bitch, stop talking.” The guy spouts, tired of your back and forth, as Satoru finally addresses him.

“That’s not very nice.” He says and quickly advances forward punching him in the face. It happens fast, you can't even see it but one punch is all it takes to knock him down, as he climbs on top. He pulls his fists down interchangeably multiple times — must be about 7 blows that leave the guy with no time to react, hands to his sides as he yelps. Satoru reaches for his pocket and is about to grab the knife, when he feels two warm hands touch him and he turns around.

“P-please.. let's just go home!” You sob, eyes wide and the pain in your voice breaks his heart. Home, you said? He gets up and kicks the man’s limbs like a soccer ball as blood oozes from his mouth and scalp. Satoru's knuckles are stained but he gives you his hand as the pulp ahead withers.

Home.

His house was large and seemed haunted, there was a long corridor with 4 separate doors and frames hanging on the walls with paintings you didn't recognize. He gives you clothes, a sleep set he had in his closet, you’d never know it was specifically tailored and cut out to your size, how would you know? It’s not like he’d tell you he stole (he called it borrow) articles you discarded at work. Your jacket when too hot, a change of pants as he brought them to the store's bathroom and returned them just as discreetly at 5:30 PM. They smelled like you, but he couldn’t categorize the odor, it was unique. As for the color.. that he didn't care about. Anything would work really. His mind couldn't stop racing when he heard the shower head start, you'd never agree to his hospitality but that was his home, his rules. You also had a very rough day and it didn't take a lot to convince you.

He offered you his bed, he’d sleep on the couch and despite you objecting, he got you to comply. He could only imagine how much today drained you, both physically and mentally. He let you sleep, he wasn't some monster, plus he had work to do. You’d wake up around 9 he calculated, so he had time.

When he finally sat down the couch, he couldn't sleep. Knowing you were there, so close and so vulnerable broke him. He didn't wait for his hair to dry – spot cleaning blood on the sink stole away his energy as he slipped on the bed, you were facing the wall and he placed his arms around you. You made no noise but you didn't seem to be sleeping heavily, as you’d slightly toss and turn. Poor you, was it a nightmare? He smelled your shampoo, it wasn't yours really but a variation of the ones you had at home as his fingers went through strands of your hair. He came closer, wanting to feel your body's heat and moved to your chest. His erection pressed against you – he’d been hard for some time and it wouldn’t go away and his palms searched for your nipples. One pinch and they were already hard, shit, he thought as he moved his dick against you. What if he went lower? Would you be a good girl for him? He moved to your belly as he put one leg softly over you, angling his cock directly at your cunt's entrance from behind while he rubbed against the folds, palms finding you from the front. He loved this embrace, all his to play with. He traced the slit and rubbed some more. You felt so soft and tempting. He’d bet no one could protect you like him and that gave him motivation. Yeah, that was right, he deserved a little thank you for his hard work. He fondles your cunt while his stiff cock annoys him, he’ll deal with it later. He buries a finger in you, your cunt is wet, he thinks and you're not even conscious. Satoru pumps it slowly, it lubricates you in the process as it coats him halfway and he groans far from your ear and pushes another. You take a deep breath.

He pops them in and out until he fears he's becoming too fast so he removes his palm and uses your slick for his pleasure now. Boxers and sweatpants are removed as he wraps around the shaft, his precum gets smeared on his cockhead and he brings it down his base, it creates a wet mess and he gets off on it. He doesn't need much visually, your back softly breathing is enough to pump faster but – you felt so warm, he reasons, should he? You’d be his soon enough so might as well. He quickly turns to your side and lowers the set you're wearing (you'd think he intentionally sized up so it'd be easier to pull them down) and pushes your panties to the side. You were a naughty girl, wearing a thong to work. Too dangerous, the world had many perverts. He puts his stiff cock on your entrance as he tries to shove just the head first; he hisses at the contact and you move, it's too late to back down now as he grows desperate. Within a second he tilts his hips into your needy cunt, he doesn't flatter himself, he's big so it's no surprise you groan and he assumes you open your eyes. You feel tight and warm and he doesn’t give a fuck about your shock – he’s close.

“What agh- what are you doing? ” You're cut off in between moans as he ruts into your spasming cunt, you choke on a cry and he picks up his pace.

“Shit, couldn't help myself, sorry baby.” He breathes out as he bucks his hips up and you moan, feeling full.

“S-stop” but your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, hands caressing your chest and his breath on your neck while your hips are brought to clash onto his and nasty sounds come from the contact.

“Fuck, so pretty, baby, hm?” He moans and he’s already close, cock throbs as you prettily squeeze him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, it’s like you’re made perfectly to accommodate him and look at you! clenching your cunt like the little slut that you are.

“Satoru– “you moan out, scared but with a heat coiling low that makes you unable to protest.

A hand is on your nub as he bites your neck at the same time.

“Want to come on my cock like the helpless slut that you are?” he whispers softly and you cry.

“I- agh-n-no..please–” you muffle and his hand circling your clit slaps on the nub repeatedly as you jerk; cock rips apart your insides making you shut your eyes as you ride out an unwarranted orgasm. He loves how it feels to have you gush on him and since you're conscious (not that it'd matter) he lifts your leg up as he angles his cock so deep, you yell, overstimulated and still scared. He cums fast and as much as he can. What doesn't make it in your cunt seeps back out. It’s not a lot since you’re stuffed to the brim and he takes his sweet time to pull out. He plants a kiss on your back as he returns with towels and puts you back to sleep.

There is no going back now.

It's your 3 month anniversary. He doesn't tell you that of course, its embarrassing because it's 3 months since he found you, 2 days since he introduced himself. You still work at the café but you don't have to worry, soon you’ll never have to work again, he has big plans. He is proud of himself for finding you, it wasn't often someone intrigued him so much. He liked how genuine you were, naive and a bit dumb of course but that was exactly what made you so pure. He’d bet even at your lowest, you'd never curse anyone out. Like for example that cunt of a customer the other day but it was fine, he’d do it for you, actually–

A message from Suguru pops up.

“Coming tonight?”

“No, have plans.” He gets bored easily and this time isn't an exception.

“Again? Weren't the 2 guys enough?” Suguru mocks using a laughing face.

“Would've been just one but Toji’s conman didn't get the memo, wasn’t expecting otherwise.”

He scoffs.

”I told you I’d take care of it.” Satoru double texts.

“Well you didn't have to kill him, he hasn't stopped texting me.” He can sense Suguru’s annoyed tone.

“Whatever, gotta go.”

That guy really shouldn't have called you a bitch, it wasn't even in the script. He’d deal with Toji later, probably bribe him to kill for you on his behalf some more – that was his way of apologizing and Toji would do it with pleasure.

Satoru shuts his phone, he thinks about throwing it away, there's no need for it anyways. Especially when you're here. Always. Every day and for all of his nights.

He thinks about a quote his dad used to tell him, how did it go? Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night. 14 minutes till your shift ends. It all makes sense now, it rhymes, that's why he still remembers it. Or maybe you give the first part a meaning.

#jujutsu kaisen #yandere satoru gojo #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere x reader #tw somno #tw noncon #tw dubcon #corollaservant

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 day

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4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology.

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily.

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically.

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough.

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay.

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?"

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall. "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you.

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard."

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

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mermaidgirl30 · 13 hours

Text

✨Fortnight✨

Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: This one shot was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “Fortnight” and is written for @morallyinept Jett’s Flora & Fauna Challenge. I had so much fun with this one and was feeling all the angst! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me make the mood board and for beta reading and for letting me talk your ear off about this one 🥰 Joel’s POV actually made me cry writing this 🥹

Summary: Moving on is hard, especially when the man you fell in love with moved in across the street from you with his new lover.

Word Count: 4.6k

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: Lots of angst, feelings, pining, heartbreak, alcohol use, allusions to smut, tears, pov in both reader and Joel’s view, no use y/n

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The orange and yellow sunrise paints the sky bright colors as you stand in your little kitchen sipping a warm cup of black coffee. The bland taste mixes with your salty mood as your eyes lock on your neighbor across the street, Tess.

Every morning she’s out there bright and early, watering her white lilies with a metal watering can as she hums along with the chirping robins that sit along her fence line. It makes your fingers flex into tight fists, makes your brows furrow up, makes your mouth clench into a deep frown as you watch with heartache written all over your pathetic face. Sometimes you wish she was dead, just like your aching heart is. Cold, lost, broken. But you shouldn’t be mad, shouldn’t wish her dead. She’s nice, always smiling, something you wish you would do more often.

You don’t hate her, not exactly. You hate that she’s Joel’s. You hate the way he comes up behind her and hugs his broad arms around her waist as he kisses her neck, her cheek, her lips. You hate the way he dances with her in the dimly lit kitchen at night as you watch them through their open window while you stand frozen in place in your own empty kitchen. You hate the way he kisses her every single morning before she drives off to work in her flashy sports car. And you hate the way they’re engaged to be married in the fall, something that should’ve belonged to you.

You should be with Joel, you should be dancing in the moonlight of his kitchen, you should be the one watering flowers with him hanging around your waist and littering your skin with kisses, you should be the one walking down that aisle. But you’re not, and you never will. Joel was in the past. An old lover from years ago. You had broken up so long ago, so why did you still love him? You weren’t his anymore. Joel belongs to Tess now. The girl you would never be.

One month. It’s been exactly a month since they moved across the street, across from you. You remember it so clearly how it felt seeing him after all those years, like you were trapped in a glass bottle with nowhere to run. He was more built now, his biceps clinging to his flannels as his tan skin glistened in the sunlight. His hair was longer now with grey threading through his curly strands, and his beard was salt-and-pepper filled. He looked so… handsome. But then you saw her slipping out of the moving van as he laughed and helped her pull a large picture frame out of the back. You were frozen in place, the glass of milk spilling out of your hand and shattering on the floor as you stared in horror at your new neighbors. You spent the next few hours soaking in the tub with a glass of whiskey, the same brand that was Joel’s favorite. You love him, you still love him, and it’s ruining your life.

Now you just stand in the empty kitchen every morning with glossy eyes and watch them. The way they kiss, talk tenderly, and graze each other’s hands as they say their long goodbyes. It makes you so sick, especially after just finding out your long term boyfriend cheated on you with his secretary. So now you’re going through a messy breakup, one where he keeps showing up at the house randomly trying to get you to take him back. Just another lost love that wasn’t meant to be. Maybe you weren’t meant to be with anyone, destined to be lonely. At least that’s what it feels like while you stare in horror at the happy couple who yearns for one another.

When you finish your black coffee and rinse out the tinted mug, you watch Joel grab the back of Tess’s head and pull her in for a long, gentle kiss. You watch the way he leans into it, smiling against her lips as she laughs and tells him she’s going to be late to work. He just brushes it off and waves her off, blowing her a kiss as he watches her drive off into the early sunrise. It makes you sick to death.

You turn and rush up the stairs, feeling a warm teardrop slip down your cheek as you get ready for the day. You really shouldn’t dwell on their relationship, but you can’t help it, and that makes you want to die.

Before you head out, you walk down the paved driveway to go grab the mail from your brick mailbox, already dreading the day as rain clouds fill the sticky air. When you go to pull open the mailbox door, it doesn’t budge. You pull and pull, tugging with all your might until the door finally opens. You lose your balance and all your mail goes sprawling across the street as you fall hard on your hands and knees.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath as you feel hot tears prick the back of your eyes. Just when you’re pushing yourself off the ground, you see someone out of the corner of your eye swoop down and pick up the mail that litters the ground.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to help me, I’m…” Your breath hitches when you stand up and see Joel holding out your mail to you, his eyes lathered with concern as you see brown doe eyes stare down at you calmly.

“You alright?” he asks carefully as his eyebrows knit together in a tight line.

“I’m… I’m fine,” you stutter out as you reach to grab the packaged letters. You jump back as his calloused fingers brush against yours, feeling the electricity fire through your veins as you see him react the same way.

“You sure?” One thick eyebrow cocks up as he stands tall before you, his body hovering too close as you smell the scent of fresh wood and pine needles. A scent you used to smell every single night while you were in his bed, cuddled up to him in the dead of night. Now, all you smell is regret and sadness mixed together in an empty bed with no one to hold you.

You clench your jaw and try to be brave as you feel a wet teardrop escape over your lash line and slide down your face. “Mhm, I’m fine,” you barely get out as you look blankly at the cracked concrete and scuff your heel into the hard ground.

“You don’t look fine. Is everythin’… do you wanna talk?” he asks as he slowly reaches a hand out, dropping it before he touches your skin as he realizes he shouldn’t do that. That’s too much, too risky, too sacred.

You look up at him behind your thick eyelashes as another shimmery tear rolls down your wide eyes. “Everything is not fine, but no. I don’t want to talk. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m sorry for bothering you, you didn’t need to help me,” you sniffle out. You start to turn away from him, but then you feel a large hand clamp down on your wrist, preventing you from moving away.

“Hey, look at me,” he murmurs as you slowly turn and blink up at him, your eyes glazing over as you see the hurt coat his beautiful face. “Why are you cryin’, is it… that guy that keeps droppin’ by your doorstep?” he asks cautiously as you flinch at the topic. You swear you hear a hint of jealousy when he says that guy.

You shake your head and pull out of his grip as his fingertips imprint your skin in hot, searing heat. “No, not necessarily…” you mumble as you cross your arms over your chest, trying to get out of this uncomfortable small talk. Why couldn’t he just ask you about the weather like a normal guy would? But Joel Miller was no normal guy. No. He was… special.

“He hurt you?” His eyes are cold, narrowed like he actually cares what happens to you. You don’t know why. He shouldn’t even pay attention to you. You’re not Tess, you're not his to care about anymore.

“He… cheated on me. He won’t stop calling or coming over, even though I tell him to stop. He’s adamant I listen to him. Says it was an accident and that she put the first moves on him, and just a bunch of bullshit answers.”

He’s quiet for a moment as he assesses you, careful with his words as he starts again. “Have you tried hearin’ him out? Maybe he…”

“I don’t want HIM!” you scream as you feel your face burn hot as your eyes start to water. Your red stained lips quiver under the grey clouds that weigh you down to the ground, and you feel like you just said something you shouldn’t have to him.

Joel takes a hesitant step back as his brown eyes grow wide, his fingers flexing against his dark jeans as you see pain reflecting in his eyes, a mere image of yourself that’s broken, bleeding, hollow, lonely. You’re so terribly alone, and you wish he could comfort you. You really do, but he can’t. He’s not yours. Even though you so badly wish he still was.

Your wide-eyed gaze threatens to take you under as you feel regret slipping from your tongue. Why did you make such a big commotion? Why did you say you didn’t want him in that way? Fuck. You start to back up and laugh to yourself. “Sorry, I need to go.”

Just before you can make it your lawn, Joel calls your name quietly. His tone makes you turn on the spot and stare at him with the way his deep bravado voice carries through the nearly spring wind. His eyes are pensive, sad, wrecked. His jaw clenches as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he wants to spill years of held in thoughts as his jaw ticks back and forth.

“Look, I know I never got a chance to apologize about what happened.” He walks toward you, and you take a step back as you shake your head, knowing what he’s about to say.

“Joel, no. Stop, you…”

“Jus’ hear me out a second. Please.” He looks at you with big, begging brown eyes, and he looks like a wounded puppy with the way he’s staring down at you all broken and hurting, mirroring exactly how you feel. You think he might be just as hurt about it as you still are.

“Okay,” you mumble out as you stand your ground.

“‘M sorry about how everythin’ went down. ‘M sorry for bein’ such an ass to you, about all the stupid fights we had, about everythin’ we ever went through. And I’m so fuckin’ sorry for runnin’ out on you that cold February night. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinkin’ and…”

You hold out a hand and stop him right there as you shake your head. “Joel, we were young and dumb. I was the one that told you to leave. You didn’t really have to, but I never went after you, and you never came back. I thought it was over, that we were over. And clearly we were because neither of us fought to keep the other…”

You feel tears lick the backs of your eyes as you bite your bottom lip and wipe your waterline of any tears that might be escaping.

“I… I would’ve. Trust me, there’s not a day… there wasn’t a day that I didn’t think about doin’ what I did differently. And maybe… maybe things would’ve been different. Ya know? Maybe we’d still be…” He rakes a hand slowly down his greying scruff and sighs as he shakes his head. “Fuck. This is… harder than I thought it was gonna be…”

“Joel…” You place a hand slowly over his wrist and watch his brown eyes go from clear to a cloud of haze. “I know you’re marrying Tess. She told me the other day when I saw her watering her lilies. She sounded so excited, so in love,” you cringe as you drop his wrist and take a hesitant step back.

“Oh, she told you?” he asks sheepishly, a bit taken back in a sense.

“Yeah, she did.”

“I see.”

You both stand there staring at one another, eyes alight with sparks of sadness and regret, turmoil that bleeds all over the heated concrete as you face each other. Both standing on a battleground where no one even lifts a finger. It’s just pleading cries and vacant apologies left in the back of the mind. A hollow graveyard that once was a flowering rose garden.

You feel like you should go, should get in your little Toyota and drive away, but you’re so lost and you feel like the world has left you behind. There’s just one more thing that needs to be said, one more bottled up sentiment that you need to get off your chest. So you look him straight in the eyes and say it, taking your very last breath as you bleed out all over his front yard.

“Look, Joel. I’m so happy you’ve found someone that makes you smile, someone that you’re clearly so in love with. I see the way you look at her. You’re so happy. And I’m so… I’m so…” You choke on your last words as tears fill the brims of your eyes, and you wipe a falling tear away with the sleeve of your shirt.

“I’m so… happy that you get to marry the love of your life. You deserve it, you deserve all the happiness in the world. And I…”

Joel grabs ahold of your forearms and squeezes, looking at you with deep chocolate eyes that swallow you whole as soon as you look up into those brown pits of warmth. You feel it then, the absolute wretched wave that crashes over your body as you feel his warm fingertips tattoo themselves onto your skin. You feel it, the memories washing over you as they swim freely in your head. You remember taking a trip to Florida in his new truck, remember laying in the sand while he grazed his calloused fingers down your sandy skin and told you he loved you for the first time, remember how it felt to be under his body as you writhed and moaned with every touch he stole from you, remember how deeply in love the two of you were, if only for a fortnight. It was the happiest you’ve ever been with someone, the happiest you’ve ever been. Even if it only lasted for a second. He was your favorite season, favorite breath, favorite fortnight. Your forever that you wish would’ve lasted longer. But it was over. This was over.

You start to break down then, pulling out of his heated grasp as his fingertips fall from your skin. It’s too much, this is too much. You shouldn’t be here. Not with him, alone. It hurts too much, like a bloody wound that’ll never mend itself back together. The tears start pouring, ruining your mascara as you feel the rain come down slowly over your crimson cheeks.

“I… need to go.” When you turn back toward your driveway, Joel calls your name softly, like he’s afraid to speak your name, like he’s being fragile with a dying flower. You stand there a minute before turning back around, your nails embedding marks into your scraped up palms as you clench your jaw and turn, feeling another warm splash drop against your skin.

He looks so sad, so conflicted as he stares at you with knit together eyebrows, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his denim jeans as you see him slide his tongue slowly over his bottom teeth. He looks likes he’s struggling as much as you, maybe holding things back just like you are. Like the way you still love him. But it’s too late. You’re too late.

“He didn’t deserve you, you know. You deserve someone… someone that’ll make you happy. You deserve the world. And I hope you find it. You’re, well… you’re special. And I hate to see ya cry. ‘M sorry if I was the one who did that to you. And if you ever… if you ever need… ahh fuck. Jus’… take care of yourself, will ya?”

You watch his fingers flex in his pocket, like he wants to reach out, maybe pull you in his arms, tell you everything will be alright in the end, but it won’t, it never will. He’s getting married to Tess, not you. You need to move on, for your own good.

You bite your bottom lip and nod as another sniffle leaves your constricted throat. You feel another warm splash on your arm as you give him a tight smile and turn back to your empty house, a house full of bottled up pain and regret. “Thanks, Joel. B… bye,” you choke out as you walk shamefully back to your front porch, letting the door close with a bang as you slide down the back of the door and end in a muddled ball on the floor.

You let the tears flow, let them burn the backs of your eyes as you feel hot air blow through your mouth. You weren’t supposed to talk to him, weren’t even supposed to let him touch your skin, even if it was just your wrist, your arm, your heart. It’s not supposed to hurt this bad, losing him all over again, but here you are. A ruined mess curled up on the wooden floor. He was your fortnight, your favorite part of every day until he was gone. Just like now. A wilted rose petal that died years ago.

He watches you turn back toward your half wilted rose covered yard, feeling the sting of tears he holds onto as he clenches his jaw and rakes a hand slowly down his greying scruff. He hates seeing you cry, hates being the reason for it, and hates the way he wants to run across your yard and pull you into his waiting arms. He wants so badly to take away the pain, but he can’t, he shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. But nothing is quite right in his mind anymore. No. Not in the slightest.

He still thinks about you, the way he used to tangle his fingers in your hair as you fell asleep in his lap so many times before. He thinks about the way your soft skin felt every time he grazed his calloused fingers down your arms, your thighs, your dripping center as he’d make endless love to you night after night. He remembers it all, the good and the bad. But mostly he remembers the way he told you how deeply he was in love with you that night in Florida, promising you forever as he pulled you in for a bittersweet kiss that would be the start of the end.

He remembers it all. The stupid fights that meant nothing, the way he was so careless with your feelings that night of the fight, the way he walked out in the pouring rain and never looked back, the way he left you brokenhearted, just like you are now as he watches you fade back into the house as you rub your tear soaked eyes. And it kills him, it kills him that a small part of him still loves you. He still loves you…

How can a person love two people at the same time? He doesn’t know why or how, but he does. He still loves you.. and he hates it, he fucking hates it.

He still thinks about you, even when he’s holding Tess against his chest late at night in their bed, even when he brushes his lips against her creased forehead, even when she says quick I love you’s to him every morning before she heads off to work. He wonders what it’d be like to hear it from your lips, on your tongue. He thinks about it so fucking much that he dreams about you, night after night. And if that makes him a bad man then fuck it, he’s already a very bad man.

He may seem happy on the outside, absolutely head over heels for Tess, which he is. But also, he isn’t because that other half of himself is devoted to you. But he’s marrying Tess, not you. So he drinks, downs the whiskey night after night as he suffers from his own stupid past mistakes. A functioning alcoholic that’s drunk off heartbreak and pining that can never be. He’s royally and thoroughly fucked beyond his wreckless decisions.

He watches you every day leaving your house, climbing into your small Toyota, alone, frowning, lonely. He sees how sad you look when you catch his eyes, sees the tears well in your glistening gaze. He knows you probably must be so miserable living across from him, he sees it in the way you carry your shoulders, all hunched and wilting as your beautiful eyes gloss over every single fucking time he looks at you. He knows because that’s how he feels every time he sees you through your kitchen window, staring in a blank daze as he caresses Tess’s cheek and leaves trails of kisses up her soft skin. He knows how you feel. Because believe it or not, he’s just as miserable as you are.

When he finally sees you stumble through the front door and shut firmly it behind you, he lets a single tear fall like rain against his cheek, releasing his pent up frustration and held back feelings like the drops of whiskey he suffocates on night after night. And like the slow rush of February, he lets his feelings flow in the wind, dwindling down the quiet street as your silent cries fade into black. You were only a fraction of a moment, a sweet speck of sunshine that lit up his life, and now it was just a memory blown away by the endless February breeze.

He tries everything in his power not to run across the dew covered grass and stumble up to your porch, bang his rough knuckles against your glass door till you open up and let him over the threshold. He wants so fucking badly to wrap you in his arms, tell you everything’s going to be okay, scrape his lips across your tear soaked eyes as he kisses away the tears that he caused. But he can’t. He just fucking can’t.

He knows you’re on the floor, knows you’re crying your eyes out because of him. He shouldn’t have even helped you with your fallen mail, shouldn’t have placed his calloused and tainted fingers on your delicate and innocent skin, because that just brought back vivid images of you and him together. Imagines that are burned inside his memory as he locks them tightly away. A part of his mind that’s completely blocked off from Tess because she doesn’t know he still loves you. But it’s too late. He can’t have both; he can only have one.

So when he walks down that aisle, he’ll fully devote himself to Tess. No more silhouettes of you in his imagination, at least not when she’s in the room. He still imagines the thought of you walking down that aisle, can already see how stunning you’d look in your long satin dress, envisions you throwing your arms around his neck as he says “I do” and kisses you endlessly for the rest of his godforsaken life.

It was always you he thinks, but time was not on his side, and he couldn’t go back to the past. He’d have to choose between the two of you, and he couldn’t imagine the thought of breaking Tess’s heart. Can’t bear the thought of losing her, but then there’s you. The girl that was once the love of his life, that’s still the love of his life. But he can’t have two loves, that’s not how it works in this life.

So he drowns in his tears, goes back inside as he pours a half glass of amber whiskey, drinks it down like it’ll be his saving grace. You were only a fortnight in his tragic life, but you were the best one. His favorite fortnight. So he’ll pine, burn through the ashes of all his mistakes. He loves you, and it’ll surely ruin his life in the end.

He chases the whiskey down as he feels it burn like hot lava down his throat, letting the alcohol drive his sins away as he stares at your empty kitchen window. You still haven’t left for the morning, haven’t driven off into the glowing sunrise even though it’s half past 8:00.

He hates that he knows your routine, knows it’s fucked that he watches you every single morning. It’s like clockwork the way he reaches for the whiskey bottle as soon as Tess leaves, while he stands in his empty kitchen watching you. He’s such a bad man, but he’s known this ever since he found out it was you that lived across the street from him. That’s when all the feelings came flooding back like a torrential downpour, and that’s why he picked up his awful drinking habit again. Now he takes a shot every single time he sees you, like that’ll help a damn thing, but it never does, it only makes the feelings worse.

After thirty minutes of silence from your window, he takes one last gulp of the toxic amber drink and slides the bottle away, feeling the taste of regret and remorse on the tip of his tongue. He knows you’re on that floor unable to get up, probably staining the hardwood from your tears. He clenches his jaw, embeds his calloused fingertips into the rustic counter and curses to himself under his breath. He needs to fix what he did, needs to put his racing thoughts to bed, so he moves like lightning towards the front door, dragging his sorrows and regrets with him as his boots scuff against the tiles of the front entryway.

He doesn’t have time to process it, doesn’t have a chance to think it through, he just moves quickly. He sprints across your yard, passing half dead rose bushes that he should’ve kept alive. Now they just look like he feels, dead and wilting, both things willing to crumble under his touch.

Now he’s standing on your front porch, the burn of alcohol edging him on as he raises his balled up fist over the silhouette of your door. He doesn’t have time to think, to act, he just has to do something, anything to get you out of his drowning mind. So he stands there burning in the flames of past mistakes and fortnights.

Before his hand can move an inch, he smells it. The morning breeze carrying a whiff of fragrant, lush lilies across his burning nostrils that cloud his foggy mind. The scent of Tess. But he also smells the fragrance of wilting red roses and dewy, clipped grass. The smell of you. Both scents swirl together as he grits his teeth and lets the pain of mixed scents numb his racing mind. He’s fucked, ruined now, but he can’t have both. He has to make a choice. It's either soft lilies or scented rose petals. And god dammit, he wants both flowers. But he can’t pick both, he just can’t. He has to make a decision. One that’ll surely be the end of him. He loses either way he chooses.

Tagging some mutuals 🩵 @msjarvis @littlevenicebitch69 @sawymredfox @bbyanarchist @keylimebeag

@casa-boiardi @vivian-pascal @amyispxnk @laurrrra @rav3n-pascal22 @magpiepills

@604to647

#jettsflora&faunachallenge #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #no outbreak au #no use of y/n #joel angst

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cythena · 2 days

Text

SHE'S NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND RIGHT?

ꨄ︎ synopsis . yuta okkotsu and maki zenin were never official no matter how much flirting you watched and it irked you to no end. yuta was so precious and had no clue maki was playing him. but they're not dating right, so it's okay for him to mess around.

warnings . semi-cheating if you wanna count it, mean!maki, breeding, unsafe sex, pnv, porn with plot, marking, praise, soft at the end, not a lot but minor angst, reader and maki don't get along, manipulation, unrequited love

word count . 2k words

notes . maki is super ooc in here but it's just for plot and not proofread

sitting on his lap, toying with his hair, and tight hugs, maki zenin was so touchy with your close friend yuta. every time she entered a room, a boyish grin tugged at his lips while his eyes shimmered at her. he was eager to bring her close to his side in a group setting. from your distance, you could see her emotionless eyes looking straight through him. affection surged through his veins and every action he made. even without her presence, yuta was love struck and you were forced to watch it.

on outings with just the two of you, he'd barrage you with questions about what she would like. he wanted girl advice from you. then he'd follow up your answers with "you're such a good friend y/n!" which you would prefer rika ripping you apart than hearing again. you would side with the curse who seemed hyper aware of maki's intentions. she was also smart enough to warn yuta and do what she could to stop him. it seemed everyone was doing what they could. inumaki tried his best to communicate his worries about their mutual friend. it would take a village to keep yuta away from her unfortunately.

still no one was as upset and jealous as you were. yuta was the sweetest boy you've ever met and seeing him put his all into her was heartbreaking. he showered her with gifts and compliments. she'd respond gratefully sometimes then shun him others.

like the one time, he bought her a necklace. you mentioned it from outside of a window and he bought it for her. she wore it all the time, which made you really think she appreciated it. she tricked you and yuta as within two weeks she ripped it off and replaced it with a new one — one that she claimed was from another friend. of course yuta didn't do much. it was obvious it hurt his feelings to see his thoughtful gift tossed to the side, quite literally when you found it outside on the field. so you kept it.

the necklace was hidden under the neck of your uniform. it felt good to know it was truly appreciated. yuta didn't deserve maki. she took advantage of his kindness and made him weak. she took every part of his soul and stripped it away from him and put it back just to repeat. it was almost numbing to watch.

almost like it was now, watching maki dig her claws into some guy at the party while yuta went to refill her drink. he wrapped his hand around her waist while she giggled into his ears. yuta returned with her cup in his hand and maki pushed herself off of the other boy. he sat down next to you while she made herself comfortable on his lap.

she rubbed her nose against his neck, whispering something to make his cheeks go red. she pulled away to look at you, her eyes flickered over your appareance. then they narrowed at your collarbone.

"hey...that's mine," she hissed and reached towards it. yuta's eyes widened when he realized it too. you covered the charm with your palm and rolled your eyes.

"not like you cared about it anyways," you said and gestured to the one she wore now. "i found it on the field."

"it fell off while training."

"no it didn't. i've worn it for weeks and it's never failed on me." you glared back at her.

yuta glanced back and forth between you and maki. he felt his heart swell when he realized you kept it. but he pushed it down, it was maki's necklace.

"well i want it back."

"now you want it, so you can dispose of it properly?"

"i want it because yuta gave it to me."

"you replaced it in an instant with some cheap thing from your new boy toy," you scoffed.

maki's chest heaved as she grew angrier. "your keeping my scraps. i can see your upset yuta chose me over you."

"kiss my ass."

you stood up. maki too soon after, but hesitated to follow you through the crowd. you made your way to the kitchen for a drink yourself. you fit yourself in your own little corner to think about it. maki and that same guy from earlier crossed your field of vision. it snapped you out of your thoughts enough to pay attention to them.

was worrrying about yuta even necessary? it was when maki and some guy were leaving together and yuta was clueless. so you went back to find him. he was waiting by the stairs.

"y/n! i'm sorry to ask you after your argument with maki but have you seen her?"

your blood boiled. you glanced to the door like you should tell him but instead you-

"follow me."

you pulled him upstairs. he followed you intently into a bedroom where you shut the door and locked it behind him. he looked around the dark room until he found a lamp. it dimly lit up your surroundings. it smelled of jasmine and other flowers.

you invited yuta to sit on the bed with you. your thigh pressed against his. he shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his collar at the sight of your thighs in your short dress. he couldn't help but look at your figure. he would be lying if he said he'd never noticed — admired — it. and your face. he always thought you were so pretty and had a great smile. his heart fell when he realized he didn't get to see it as much recently.

"yuta..." you started, "y'know, i've liked you since we were first years. i always thought you were really sweet."

he almost choked on his words. but why were you confessing to him now? you placed your hand on his upper thigh, dragging it higher with a sly grin on your face. you looked up into his eyes, staring into them, not through.

"you liked me? i-"

you nodded along with his words, basking in his flustered state. he tripped over his words as he tried to form another sentence but ultimately let himself fall short. you didn't mind. instead, you let brought your hand to the back of his neck. he leaned into your touch before putting his own hand on your wrist.

"no, we shouldn't- maki, it's wrong," he rambled. your grin went lazy. your thigh crossed his as your legs spread further. his arm dropped now.

"she's not your girlfriend, right?"

he shook his head.

"so we don't have to worry about her."

he nodded.

you muttered a yeah before letting your lips touch. months of stress lifted off your shoulders. yuta held your hips and shifted you onto his lap to deepen your kiss. he wanted to taste everything you had to offer in this moment. your tongues danced with each other while your hands grabbed everything they could. they squeezed each other and yanked on clothes until they were off. you sucked a deep purple bruise onto his neck, one he wouldn't be able to hide.

"yuta!" he grinded you against his bulge, black eyes losing all light and filling with lust. your nails dug further into his shoulder as he flipped you over so you were underneath him. he finished pulling off his own pants. "did you two ever-"

he shook his head. "no," he said in between kisses. your panties were tossed to the side. you had no where to look but at him. "i need you so bad, not her, i need you y/n."

his rubbed his hand against your sopping cunt. he brought his two fingers against into his mouth to savor you. he moaned at the intoxicating taste on his tongue then pressed them into your mouth for a taste. he kissed you again in hopes of tasting it again. within his foggy brain, he knew he wanted to taste more but he needed to feel you and his cock throbbed.

"put it in."

you wrapped your hand around his shaft. he silently praised you as you guided his tip to the entrance of your hole. you tilted your head up while he pushed into you. your lips parted in a sweet gasp, one that yuta swallowed with a kiss. you let him completely slide into your hole and fill you.

yuta chuckled. "i'm impatient, i couldn't wait-" he smacked his hips against yours, "anymore." he inhaled your perfume that settled on your collarbone right beside the necklace. he clenched the charm in his other fist, holding it tightly while he fucked into you. you arched your back into his chest.

"o-oh my...yuta," you sighed. "i'm gonna-"

"yeah? wanna cum?"

you nodded. drool began to slip from the corner of your lips.

"words please?" he whispered, "i wanna hear you say it." he slowed down to focus attention on your clit. your eyes fluttered from the circles he rubbed. his cock still filled every part of you. he used his other hand to hold the back of your head and look into your eyes.

"...please yuta...please make me cum." you smiled. "i love you so much."

the words slipped from you and you wished you could take them back. he hungrily sucked marks along your neck and peppered your skin with kisses until he reached your ear. "i love you too, always have."

the walls of your pussy spasmed around him. he felt you pulling his deeper than he thought he could go. the feeling in your gut released. yuta admired the way your eyes widened. your cute expressions were uncontrollable. in blissful heat, your body shuddered. yuta toyed with your breasts now, moving down to kiss them.

"i- can i cum in-"

you cut him off. "inside yes! i need it yuta!" you begged him. your head sank deeper into the pillows. he thrusts became desperate to fill you up now. a whimper of your name spilled from his tongue. he didn't bother trying to hold back anything now. moans and curses filled the room as he tingled with excitement. he sank as deep as he could inside you while he emptied himself.

you bit your lip and gazed at his flushed face. he helped you sit up while he ran to the bathroom. yuta returned with a towel and water bottle. her wiped you off while you sat in silence. he helped you drink water before closing the cap and sitting beside you. he cuddled up against your side with his head nuzzled in your neck.

"y...yuta," you mumbled.

"yes?"

"what do you mean you always loved me?"

he pulled away from you to look you in the eye. he cupped your cheeks. his thumbs stoked your skin soothingly. he gave you a soft smile and a peck on the lips.

"i mean that i've always loved you. sorry i didn't show you, i was scared you didn't feel the same. but i wanna make it right now, so i'd like to be your boyfriend."

"officially?"

"yes. i want to be yours."

yuta reached over and undid your necklace, tossing it somewhere in the dark room. he shushed you before you could protest or get up to find it. he pulled you back into his chest, silencing your worries, "i have one just for you. no need for that one anymore."

#♡ ⌢ ₊　cy. writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuta smut #yuta okkotsu smut #jjk yuta #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen yuta #tw.smut

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jinwoosungs · 1 day

Text

{ 158 }

penpal.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

were you going crazy?

what was up with those shadows surrounding your classmate?

settled off to the left side of the classroom, you watch sung jinwoo from your periphery, seeing what looked liked dark wisps surrounding the entirety of his form. the boy was simply reading the pages of his textbook, yet something about him terrified you.

you weren't sure just how long you had been staring at him, your gaze following the tiny wisps of shadow as it seemed to dance around him-

before stiffening when your gaze met with his cool, grey eyes.

becoming paralyzed, you found that you couldn't look away from him, with jinwoo gently flashing you a kind smile. he opens his mouth, ready to greet you when four rowdy classmates interrupts him, surrounding his desk as low chuckles echo throughout the area.

you wanted to call out to them, to somehow warn them-

but no words could come out.

"wow, you're a big shot, aren't you? wearing that glove and all."

"why are you only wearing it on one hand, though? is there a black flame dragon in it or something?"

"ughhhh, my hand!! the black flame cow in my right hand is roaring-!!"

the four males began to laugh incessantly, making your anxiety shoot through the roof. you trail your gaze over to his gloved hand...

"hey, look. take off your glove. let me try it on." one of the boys demanded, further making you anxious at what was to come.

jinwoo remains silent, completely unfazed by these goons who were trying so hard to intimidate him. you had to fight back a grin, feeling the tiniest bit of admiration despite the anxieties you held for him.

"bastard, are your ears stuffed or something? why aren't you replying when we asked you to take off your glove?"

"what is it? do you have a tattoo on your left hand or something?"

jinwoo lets out a huff in response before taking off his glove, revealing a severely burned hand. your throat was felt clenching up in response once more when you caught a glimpse of his scars-

scars that appeared like deadly spiderwebs against his pale skin-

scars that were certainly not normal.

"what? never seen a burn wound before?" jinwoo's voice retained its tranquil quality, causing a wave of discomfort to be seen across the four rowdy students as they each clicked their tongues in utter disgust and disdain.

"we were just joking around, why get all serious?"

"just wear that glove again, i'm scared i'll get nightmares about it."

"FUCKING DISGUSTING."

you watch as the four boys proceed to exit the classroom, only to see a flash of purple from your periphery as an invisible force made them freeze before tripping over the doorway, landing headfirst into the floor (the sudden impact causing the students who were currently out in the hallway to laugh at them).

your heart was racing, nearly stifling you with its anxious beats when you look back at jinwoo to see him smiling at you. he calmly meets your gaze for a brief moment before giving you a wink (acting like he had shared some inside joke with you), catching you completely off guard.

he turns his attention back to his textbook and continues to read, sometimes sneaking glances at you while keeping that knowing smile on his handsome features, making you purse your lips in response.

looking away from him, you pretend to look down at your own handwritten notes, yet the sensation of his eyes being on you never seemed to cease.

{ ... }

the discomfort and anxiety you felt each time you sat next to jinwoo became too much to bear when you asked to switch seats with another girl from your class.

of course, she hadn't the slightest clue about the general offness seen with jinwoo. you knew that all she saw when it came to jinwoo was a cute boy that was top of the class.

but no one ever did notice the strange way his eyes seemed to glow-

how his mannerisms and style of speaking were a tad bit too mature for a mere teenager-

or how there were an almost constant presence of shadows surrounding him.

admittedly, sung jinwoo freaked you out.

even now, when you were literally three desks away from him, you swore that you could feel his piercing gaze against your back.

and you didn't know what you could have possibly done to have warranted such attention from him.

only when class had ended were you finally able to breathe, knowing that jinwoo had track for the next couple of hours. he had already left the classroom when you slowly began to pack your belongings together. adjusting the blouse of your uniform, you brush back your hair and begin making your way to the library to find a few good books to read before heading home.

the moment you stepped into the room filled with books, you let out a happy sigh. breathing in the fresh scent of pages, you eagerly step into the library and head to your favorite aisles.

fantasy... romance... mystery... gahhhh there's so many good books to read! it's a shame we can only check out 4 books at a time...

you think bitterly to yourself, taking a few books off the shelf when a flash of purple catches your attention. with a tilt of your head, you look out the window to see jinwoo settled directly below you. he was taking casual sips of his water all while sneaking glances at you from his periphery.

you pout, resting your free hand against the glass, gaze narrowing down at him. jinwoo realizes that he had caught your attention, fully facing you now as he lifted up his hands to give you a tiny wave. the suddenly soft and sweet action was enough to make the heat grow against your cheeks, with you unable to ignore the gesture as you wave back at him.

his smile was enough to distract you from the lengthening of your shadow made in response to the setting sun, distracting you from seeing the several, glowing purple eyes that remained hidden from within its dark depths.

{ ... }

the morning you came into your school, you saw something fall out of your locker, making you question how such a note could have gotten into the metal compartment.

for starters, it had a lock on it-

a lock that only you had the key to.

so just how did this folded note even reach you?

you shake your head and ignored all logic when it came to how you had gotten this note, proceeding to unfold the piece of paper as it read:

your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now? ( s. monarch )

your throat turns dry upon reading the note, making your heart race in response.

was this person... actually flirting with you through a note?

and just what kind of nickname was s. monarch?

was this guy just really cocky or something?

yet, even knowing that this note was kind of cheesy, why did it succeed in making you smile?

you look down at the page to see that it had plenty of space for you to write your reply. trying to hide back your grin, you take out your favorite pen and decide to write:

thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?

you sign off the note with your full name before placing it back within the confines of your locker, somehow knowing that your face was completely flustered right now.

your good mood had dramatically increased, and you found yourself looking forward to talking to this new penpal of yours.

{ ... }

your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now?

thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?

ah, i'm sorry, i can't say. it would ruin the mystery :)

mystery?? why would you wish to keep your identity a secret, monarch?

i have my reasons. besides... i want to use this chance to get to know you better.

may i ask how you're able to read and place new notes within my locker?

nope, sorry. it's still a secret ;)

ugh, you're kind of annoying, monarch -_-

i've been called much worse. :)

{ ... }

you spend the next couple of weeks exchanging notes with monarch, giggling each time he asked questions about you, like wanting to know your favorite color-

favorite books-

favorite foods-

just, anything and everything that made you who you are.

while you answered each of his questions, you would read his own responses pertaining to his own personal interests.

you could say purple and black are my favorite colors.

i wasn't much of a big reader before, but i'm enjoying a lot of murder mystery books. maybe you can recommend me some other good novels to read?

my favorite foods are pretty much anything that my mom makes, haha, but kimchi stew and bulgogi beef are my personal favorites.

altogether, he seemed like your typical, teenaged boy. the conversations you had with him remained light-hearted and fun.

but that all changed when you received today's note within your locker during your lunch break:

what do you think of sung jinwoo? i notice you tend to avoid him a lot.

your eyebrows furrow in response to his question, wondering why monarch would even care about how you felt when it came to jinwoo. however, you were always honest with him before, so you saw no reason to lie to him now.

you truly want an honest answer? well, to put it bluntly, jinwoo terrifies me. there's just this... really strange and dark aura about him? yet no one seems to notice it but me. sure, he's plenty polite on the surface, but... i feel like there's more to him than meets the eye. it's almost like... he has some secret, one that no one can understand, but keeps well hidden? ah, sorry, i am well aware that i am not making any sense, but it's how i really feel. jinwoo makes me feel anxious.

after finishing your note, you place it back within your locker before walking back to your classroom.

somehow, you couldn't ignore the sensation that you were missing something vital...

that there was some connection you just weren't seeing when it came to monarch and sung jinwoo...

{ ... }

your heart was racing when class ended for the day, and you wondered if monarch had already sent you a reply. with a noticeable bounce in your step, you go to your locker and unlock it, seeing a brand new note settled atop your various notebooks.

meet me at the library after school.

a painful clench was felt at the base of your throat, with you picking up the single note, your hands trembling as you fought to calm down. letting out a deep breath, you close your locker and brush back your hair, holding monarch's latest note close to your chest.

were you getting nervous?

why did your legs feel stiff and heavy all of a sudden?

with each step you take, getting oh so much closer to the library, you swore that your heart was going to choke you with its rapid palpitations-

praying that you wouldn't suddenly die of a heart attack, you open the door to the library-

only to see a lone figure standing in front of the window. the setting sun shining directly in your eyes made it difficult for you to see who it was, giving you no choice but to come closer to the person.

wiping away the tears from your eyes, you stepped closer and finally saw just who monarch truly was-

letting out a gasp when sung jinwoo himself was looking at you with those same, glowing eyes.

"you... you're monarch?!" that was all that you could manage, the anxiety immediately becoming worse as your heart continued to beat faster within the confines of your chest.

a rich chuckle escapes from his lips, "indeed, i am." he confirms your suspicions before taking a step closer to you.

jinwoo seemed unaware (or perhaps he just didn't care?) about your mounting discomfort and anxieties, still coming closer to you as you continued to take several steps away from him.

only when your back met with one of the sides of the bookshelves did you finally stop, with jinwoo smiling down at you. he places his gloved hand against the shelf, trapping you against him.

with his free hand, he gently traces at your bottom lip, making your breath hitch in response. despite how much of a nervous wreck he made you, you couldn't ignore the sudden warmth you felt spreading across your veins at the look of adoration he gives you.

"you have plenty of good reasons to fear me, i'll admit, but... is it really just fear and anxiety that you feel for me...?"

his whisper was almost seductive, trailing his fingertips down your features before gently grabbing a hold of your chin.

"or have you mistaken your anxieties with feelings of love for me, too?"

your breathing comes out in uneven breaths, and you could feel your cheeks further heating up in response as your heart skipped several beats-

"wait, you said too, did you just hint that- that you feel love for me?"

jinwoo's glowing purple eyes became alight with amusement as he gives you an eager nod. "obviously, these feelings of mine have only grown since the moment i saw you again..."

you became speechless then, watching with bated breath when jinwoo inches closer and closer to you, "despite how long it's been for me, you have not changed... not even a little bit, sarang."

your knees immediately become weaker when jinwoo calls you by that sweet term of endearment, and you nearly fell to your knees when he finally kisses you. his arms were kept locked around your waist, kissing you with a fervor that made you feel oddly nostalgic-

perhaps you had no reason to fear sung jinwoo after all; especially with how addicting his kisses had quickly become to you.

a.n. - and we are so back with the fluff i have always loved writing about! i am so happy, passing a really difficult final exam as i look forward to the rest of my academic year 😭 so i decided to write another jinwoo story!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo sung x you #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung

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dancingtotuyo · 8 hours

Text

High Infidelity Part V

Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature Explicit

Summary: Tommy is released, but he only pushes you further into Joel's arms.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: prison, mentions of war, fighting, LOTS OF TEARS, emotional and physical affair, cheating boundaries, smut (P in V), Oral sex (F receiving)

Notes: And so we reach the end of this story. I know there's a lot to wrap up. Thank you all for all your amazing comments and thoughts over the last month. It really means the world to me.

I know I say this every chapter but a huge thanks to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. They have beta'ed every chapter one top of listening to me scream about this story for hours over the course of months! I adore you both so much

Words: 7234

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

They warn you that Tommy’s transition home will be difficult. An adjustment period they call it. You prepare for him to struggle, thinking he would try to leave the house in search of trouble, but it’s the opposite. Joel picks him up from work in the morning and drops him off in the evening. Then he goes out on the back deck and drinks sitting out there in utter silence. At first, you join him, letting Nathaniel play in the backyard but he refuses to talk, hardly looks your way. Sometimes he tracks Nathaniel, but not all the time. He seems so far away, like he had those first couple months home after Desert Storm, but he came back to you, as Your Tommy. At least for a little bit.

At night, he pulls you into his arms without a word. He holds you until you fall asleep, but on several occasions, you wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Usually he’s sitting on the bed or standing as he stares out the window. Sometimes you hear him pacing the house. You don’t talk about it. You don’t talk about much anymore except for the weather. He’s ultra focused on the weather it seems.

He hasn’t tried to touch you. Sexually that is. Any kiss he lays on you is chaste almost like it’s his duty, but sometimes you catch more behind it, like he’s pushing down his own desires. When you try to progress things, he walks away.

It hurts. A lot.

You have Julia and Micky over for dinner a month after Tommy’s release. Tommy comes out of his shell a little bit. He wears a smile, laughs with his head thrown back at some inside joke Micky cracks. He looks easy, relaxed for once. Under the table, his hand lands on your thigh sending little jolts of electricity through your body. He’s feeding you more and more loose threads of his old self to hold on to. The ever present tension in your chest eases. You hate that it feels like you can breathe again. A small, small assurance that he will come back to you in time.

Micky and Tommy take the boys outside after dinner. Micky talks about a support group for Veterans he goes to. You watch from the window, you can’t hear them, but you see when Tommy brushes him off, his body going rigid. You try to push it out of your mind, but you already feel the threads slipping through your fingers as you push back tears with a glass of water.

Tommy goes to bed before you that night, but when you slip into bed, he still pulls you into his arms. When you wake up a couple hours later, Tommy stands by the window, gazing out of it like a statue keeping watch.

You don’t usually say anything. You don’t let him know you know he’s not sleeping, but something tugs you into an upright position. “Tommy.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. You get no indication that he even hears you. You throw back the covers, joining him next to the window. You repeat his name, laying a hand on his shoulder. You catch a small twinge in his jaw. “Come back to bed?”

His eyes dart from the moon to his feet. He leans away from you, just enough for you to pick up on it. You can’t ignore the stab of hurt that shoots through your body. Your hands fall back like you’ve been burned. You wish you had the energy to yell at him, fight him, but you don’t, so you crawl back into bed, back turned to him. Silent tears soak your pillow before you fall back asleep.

Tommy’s gaze moves to your still frame, praying for a release from the chains he can’t seem to shake. The ones that he keeps hurting you with, but he doesn't know where to find the keys.

So life continues like that. Weekly dinners with Micky and Julia, glimpses of Tommy and threads that slip through your fingers. Most days it feels like one step forward and two steps back. Your patiences frays, your emotions unraveling each time he pushes you away only to pull you close at the end of the day. You’re not sure what does it, if you’ve reached the end of your rope, completely unraveled, or multiple tantrums Nathaniel threw all day, but when he reaches for you one night, you snap.

“Stop.” You pull out of his reach.

“What’s wrong?”

Dry laughter falls out of you as you roll out of the bed. “What’s wrong? What’s not wrong?”

“Baby…”

“No, you don’t get to try and soothe me!” You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears of the past months from your eyes. You can’t break down right now, in front of him. “You’re pushing me away! I’m trying to be here for you, I really am, Tommy, but I am exhausted! I don’t know what to do.”

He looks away, body looking deflated. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”

“No- Stop,” you hold your hands up. “You know why I’m here. I love you, but love only gets us so far.”

“I’m trying-”

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know-”

“People who are trying don’t sit out on the porch and ignore their family every night! They don’t ignore their wife!”

“If that’s how you feel, maybe you should just leave me now!” he snaps. “No need to delay the inevitable.”

It pulls the air from you like a punch to the gut. Tears well in your eyes. “Is that what you want?”

He looks away from you again. You march up to him, grabbing his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Tell me!”

There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re the same eyes you fell in love with, but they’re hollow now. It sends a heartbreaking chill through your body. His eyes fall to the corner, the only way he can get away from your searing gaze.

You drop his face, stepping away before you lose it in front of him. “Okay then.”

You can’t stay here, in the room, in your home. Tommy hangs his head as you flee from his presence. The house rattles when the front door slams behind you. Only then, does Tommy let the apathy bleed out of his body and the tears fall.

A knock on the front door jolts Joel awake. The TV plays lowly, casting harsh light and shadows across the dark living room. He feels confused, disoriented. Another knock pulls him through the fog a little bit. He opens the door to find you, tears streaming down your face. You push past him, crossing the threshold without an invitation. You don’t need one.

“What’s wrong, Darlin?”

You inhale, preparing to let the words out, to scream if necessary, and then your whole chest quivers, and the tears pour out again sending you into a blubbering mess. Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the couch before you collapse right in front of him.

He leaves you for a minute. The faucet runs in the kitchen. Joel sets a cool, heavy glass in your hands, watching over you with concern knit brows. Every time you try to talk, your chest rattles again and tears overpower you.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

You sip at the water, rotating between complete serenity and total chaos. Every time you think you might be able to speak, the words turn into incoherent sobs. Finally, you give up trying to talk until the glass is empty. Joel takes the glass from your hands, setting it on the coffee table. You don’t attempt to talk until your breathing is fully evened out. Joel holds your shoulders, thumbs running smoothly over your skin.

“I’m just so fucking tired,” you say. “All the time.”

Joel frowns. “Tommy?”

“He won’t talk to me.” The tears gather behind your eyes again, creating pressure in your head. You feel the blubbering start to return. “I knew things would be hard, but he just acts like I’m not even there half the time.”

“Is he going out again?”

You shake your head. “No- he’s home all the time, sulking, being mad at the world for whatever reason he can come up with. I’ve tried so hard. I don’t know what else to do.” Hot tears spill from your eyes. “It shouldn’t be this hard. I’m used to doing everything alone- but now I’m doing it with a ghost in my home. It wears on a person, and tonight- “ It hurts like citrus in a fresh cut to think about.

“Come here.” Joel sighs, feeling his heartache for you. He pulls you into his chest, allowing you to soak his shirt until it sticks to his skin. His hand caresses your back, doing his best to soothe you as best he can. Though by now, he’s a pro at it.

Eventually, your head falls into his lap. The sobs don't seem to rattle your body the same, but the tears don’t stop.

Annoyance begins to grow in Joel. How many more times does he have to do this before you come to your senses? He thought Tommy’s stint in prison would help, yet here you are still crying on his couch. This can’t keep happening. It’s not fair to you.

Joel loves his brother. He would do anything in this world for him, except when it comes to you. Because Joel loves you too. He loves you more and in more ways than a brother-in-law should. He hasn’t minded being just your brother-in-law and friend until now. You deserve better.

When you finally sit up, wiping the tears from your eyes, he knows he won’t be able to stop the words at the cusp of his mouth.

“What time is it?” You look at the clock on the wall with a sigh. “I should go home.”

“Darlin,” Joel grabs your chin. Your eyes snap to his. There’s a seriousness in his eyes you’re not sure you’ve seen before. “How long are you gonna let him keep doing this to you?”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

You close your eyes for a second. Another tear falls with your eyelashes. Joel swipes it away with his thumb. “What am I supposed to do, Joel? Where would we go?”

“You could stay here until you find somethin.”

A little huff of laughter manages to escape. “Yes, I’m sure Sarah would love having us invade her space when there’s a perfectly good house down the street.”

“She wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to leave him.” You put your hand on Joel’s wrist. “He’s a dick, but I love him.”

“It’s killing me to see you like this. You deserve better.”

He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s something else in his eyes. The way he’s looking at you. There’s a heat in his gaze, something that feels so familiar, but you haven’t seen Tommy in years, the same look you saw that night at the beach. It sends tingles through your bloodstream, little pinpricks of excitement like the night you got yourself off in his bed, said his name and then heard him. You’ve managed to push down the question until now, but you know for certain now. He heard you. You swallow, your breath feeling like it’s being pulled out of your lungs.

Do you tell him what Tommy said tonight? Do you tell him that you heard him that night? Do you tell him you’re being pulled into different directions?

“Joel…”

His hand falls to your waist. The other cups your neck. You feel like you’re falling toward him, helpless to stop the inevitable. “I’ve got you, Darlin.”

He’s been here. He’s always been here for you at the drop of a hat. Your firm foundation when it felt like the rest of the world was sinking. You always assumed you were just a promise he made to his brother, but what he’s been to you and what you’ve been to him, it’s more than a promise to a brother. It’s more than a love for family.

It sparks a flame inside you. You haven’t been looked at like that in years. Haven’t been touched in just as long. Tommy hasn’t made a single move on you since he got out. He’s run every time you’ve tried to initiate something.

Your eyes dip to his lips, centimeters from your own. Joel echoes the statement again, quieter this time as your lips touch his. He shutters under you, lips quick to take over. Arms wrap around your waist. You’re thankful for it. Thankful not to have to think about any of it. Content to let him have complete control as you straddle him.

He inhales with a faint shake to his breath, lips still touching yours. Then, he returns in full force, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth. His hands crawl up your body, greedy and searching. You give in, nails wracking through his hair. Years of pent-up desire behind both of your movements.

You play with the top buttoning of his shirt, popping them open, lightly scraping your nails across his chest. A moan reverberates from his chest. The bulge in his pants grows against your crotch, sending electricity through your veins. You tug at another button before Joel’s hand covers yours. He manages to pull away just barely.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not here.” He pants. “Sarah.”

Your eyes widen, realizing how easily you could’ve been spotted by your niece. Joel caresses your jaw, eyes hooded with lust. He bucks his hips up, brushing your clothed crotch again. You gasp, making him smirk.

His voice is raspy with need. “Gotta get you into my bed, Darlin.”

You barely manage to pull yourself off his lap, your legs feeling like wet noodles. Joel smiles, he grabs your hand, tugging you behind him. He’s quiet on the stairs, eyes glued to Sarah’s bedroom door the entire way up.

His bedroom door clicks softly behind you, your shirt thrown off before Joel can turn around. He lets out an appreciative groan, pulling his own shirt off as he stalks toward you. Want pools low in your belly, the walls of your aching cunt clench. Your breath quickens as he edges nearer, a solid arm wrapping around your waist. His contained erection pushes against you making you grin. “Happy to see me?”

“More than you know,” he growls, kissing you again. Hand roaming your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You moan softly and then a little bit louder. Joel shakes his head. “Music to my fucking ears baby.”

He pulls and tugs at your bra, unable to get it opened to the point you’re worried he broke a clasp. Finally, you pull it over your head and let it land with your shirt. He takes you in, topless in his bedroom for just him to see. You’re a fucking work of art, water to a wanderer in the desert.

He cups one of your breasts, pulls the other one into his mouth. You gasp, head falling back, moisture collecting in your underwear. His thumb plays with your exposed nipples while his tongue swirls over the other. You moan his name softly, being cautious of your volume.

He palms himself through his jeans, switching to your other breast as he does. You fight the urge to fall back on the bed, hands playing in his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He hums softly against your chest, sending an extra wave of pleasure through your body. He pulls back, saliva connecting the two of you, eyes glued to yours. He kisses you until the back of your knees hit his mattress, but he doesn’t let you fall to the bed yet.

“How long has it been?” he says, muffled against your lips. His fingers play with the button of your pants

“What?”

“How long has it been?” He pulls back, the button of your pants popping open as he sinks to his knees.

Confusion flashes through your face until you realize what he’s saying, what he’s asking. You swallow, unsure of how to answer.

“Darlin?”

It’s embarrassing because you can’t remember the last time you were touched like this. You shake your head. “I don’t know. Before?”

The sound from his throat is guttural, almost a growl. He’s been out for three months. Three fucking months and he hasn’t bothered to touch his wife.

Joel tugs your jeans down, pressing a kiss just below your belly button, continuing down to the band of your underwear. Your pussy clenches again, dripping with need.

“Lay down.”

You obey, bottom hitting the soft mattress first and then your back. His smell is everywhere now, seeping into your skin, just as it always has when you curled up in his bed.

His hands run up the length of your torso, tweaking your nipples before sliding down, continuing over your thighs. He pulls your jeans free, pressing his nose to your center. “Smell so good for me, baby.”

Your stomach flutters, hips pressing into his face. He lets out a low chuckle. “I’m going to take care of you, Darlin. Don’t you worry.”

You whine, hands gripping the sheets beside you. “Please, Joel.”

He tugs your underwear down, tortuously slow. His fingers trace down the entirety of your legs. You can see just enough under the hood of your lust-filled eyes. He props both of your legs on his shoulders, pressing slow kisses to the inside of each leg as he edges closer and closer to your core.

When he gets there, he pauses, eyes locking on yours. It’s intentional. You have the urge to cuss him out if he doesn’t put his mouth on you soon. The need is strong enough you could cry or scream of frustration.

Slowly, he spreads your legs, fingers creeping toward your sopping folds. He runs his pinky through them, barely nudging your clit, but it’s enough to have your back arching off the mattress. He grins up at you. He spreads you further. The evidence of your arousal glistens in the dim lights. “Fuck, Baby. So wet for me.”

You bite your lip to keep from yelling at him. “Please, Joel.” Your voice is hoarse and strained already.

He groans, practically falling into your spread pussy. His tongue flattens against you, running the length of your folds. Your hands tangle in his hair, repeated moans falling from your lips, ones you both know you’re holding back for the sake of being quiet. You’re seeing stars and he’s barely touched you.

Joel wants to take his time, savor the moment, memorize every piece of you. He wants to pull you apart piece by piece and put you back together again. He knows he may not get another opportunity again, but you’re addicting. He wants to pull those sounds from you on a loop and feast on your juices. He sucks your clit, swirling his tongue around it, eliciting another glorious moan from you. Each one grows louder until he pulls away for the briefest second and a pillow hits your face.

“As much as I wanna hear you, Darlin. Use that.” He grins. “Don’t hold back on me anymore.”

His mouth is on you, doubling his efforts. Bringing you to the edge of bliss. You’re so close, moans filling the pillow case that smells like him. He inserts a finger, giving you something to clench around, softly brushing against your walls. His tongue laps over your clit and the tension building in you snaps in one beautiful crescendo.

His thumb replaces his tongue as he works you through your orgasm, chest heaving as you catch your breath. “That’s right. Just like that.”

You toss the pillow to the side, locking eyes with him. He smirks at you, pressing a kiss over your hip. He leaves behind some of your juices, his face slick with them. Standing back to his feet, he undoes his belt shucking off his jeans and boxers.

Your breath catches again as you hurry to sit up. He chuckles at you, catching your hands in his as you reach for him, for his cock. He pushes you back down to the bed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “As much as I’d enjoy that, Darlin. It was all I could do not to finish in my pants like a damn teenager.”

Your breath quivers against him, words barely coherent in your brain. He releases one of your hands, reaching into his drawer for a condom.

“Joel, I-” Your hand runs down his side, soaking in the feel of his skin. “Please.” It’s all you can manage. Years of pent-up desire begging to be freed.

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on him.

He rips open the foil packet. Your eyes follow his every movement as he rolls it over his cock. Once it’s on he crawls onto the bed, hovering over you, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and stars. He’s your oasis in the desert and you’re his. Your hands roam his back and shoulders and hair. He leans into your touch, soft noises of contentment falling from his lips.

Before you know what you’re doing, you manage to flip him onto his back. His arms fly out, a thunk sounding through the room as his wrist collides with the night stand.

You can’t help the laughter that spills from your lips as you settle on top of him. “Are you okay?”

“Glad to see you’re so concerned for my well being.” He chuckles.

“No- Really.” But you can’t stop laughing. “Are you okay?”

“My watch caught it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Joel smiles, cradling your face in his hands.

You lean down, hands spread over his chest as you press your lips to his. His hands are all over your bare skin again. He shifts your hips, positioning you over him, ready for you to sink down on to him, feel you wrap around him.

You run your thumb over his bottom lip as his eyes roam over your face, breath held in anticipation, waiting for you.

“Are you sure?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Never been more sure.” His hands settle over your hips, holding them softly.

The air seems to evaporate from the room and the world goes silent before you take that final, fatal move and sink onto him. A soft whimper leaves your lips before Joel captures your lips, swallowing it.

The moonlight reflects off his watch face. Neither of you are aware that it’s stopped, sealing your sins under its glass.

You lay in Joel's arms long after you’ve both finished, sweaty and bare. The ceiling fan turns above you offering little reprieve. It’s nice, at first, but the longer you lay there, the longer it begins to sink in, the more you start to feel the stickiness on your skin and the unexplainable need for a shower.

You pull out of Joel's arm’s without a word, eyes searching for your clothes strewn across the room. Why does it feel like the walls are closing in? You need to get out and think.

“Darlin?” Joel sits up, reaching for your shoulder.

“I should go home,” you say, rising to your feet before he can touch you. “I need to go home.”

“I told you you can stay.”

“I need to go home!” you snap, tears glistening in your eyes. This is wrong. It’s all wrong.

“Shit,” Joel’s head drops. He lets out a huff, a hint of sarcasm to it. You grab your shirt, pulling it on, too busy locating your items to pay him any mind. “So that’s it? You’re just going to go back? Nothing’s gonna change.”

Your head snaps up as you pull on your jeans. “This can’t happen.” Your chest shakes. “It shouldn’t have happened, Joel. We both know that.”

“Or maybe it was supposed to.” He slides out of the bed, pulling on his boxers.

“Joel-”

“He doesn’t treat you right. We both know that.”

“He’s my husband!”

“He doesn’t get to walk all over you just because he’s your husband!”

“That doesn’t make this right!”

“It was the most right my life’s felt in years,” Joel says, eyes landing on yours. You bite back tears, trying not to let him get to you as you turn away, but he grabs your wrist. “It always does with you.”

You turn your head away from him without a response.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” His thumbs press into your palm.

You slip his grip. “I love him. I know I shouldn’t anymore, after everything, but I do.”

“I’ve always been here.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” You want to curse as your emotion wells up again. How much can a person take in a single night? “My life would be so much simpler if it was you.”

“It could be.”

“No,” your head shakes. It hurts more than you expect it too. You do love him. You wish it could be him. As if the past three years weren’t enough, you know what it’s like to be with him now, but it’s still Tommy, and you hate yourself for it.

Joel seems to read it in your eyes, the sadness, the acceptance, lingering longing for what could have been. His throat bobbles as he steps back to give you space. You release a slow breath.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don't apologize. I should have known better.”

You cringe. You want to tell him it’s not all on him, but he’s giving you an out. You’re too exhausted not to take it. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Yeah.” Joel moves about his room like he’s searching for something.

You’re not sure if you should say something more, or leave. Leaving would be easier. A clean break, and you take it, but Joel’s voice stops you before you can open the door. “He wasn’t faithful to you.”

Your hand freezes over the door knob, eyes squeezing shut. You can’t do this. You can’t have this conversation right now, but your body is frozen in place.

“I think you should know.”

Nails bite into your palms as you steady your breath, eyes focused on the wood of the door in front of you as rage begins to grow in you. “He already told me, but thanks for dredging that hurt back up three years after the fact.”

“Darlin-”

You spin on your heels. “Fuck you, Joel!”

Joel’s eye’s fly wide. “I just thought you should know!”

“No, you were using that for your own good!” You can’t take this. Joel throwing Tommy’s betrayal in your face years after the fact is its own form of treachery.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I live in a constant state of hurt! You were supposed to be my reprieve!” Your fists shake, voice raising. You don’t care if you wake Sarah, you don’t care if your sins come to light. There’s only so much a person can take in a single night. “If you actually cared about me, you wouldn’t have kept that a secret for years! And you damn sure wouldn’t have used it for your own good!”

Joel doesn’t break eye contact with you, but you see the regret fill his eyes. Fire buzzes in your bloodstream and tears prickle your eyes. You’re not sure how you have any left to shed. In the blink of an eye, you flee from his room and home before he can attempt to draw you back in.

You take the long way home, letting the Texas darkness swallow you whole until you’re ready to go back home.

The house is dark and quiet. You flip on the lamp, a deep tension forming in your head. Tommy sits on the couch, eyes latching onto yours. He looks like a lost puppy. Your breath catches. You must look a mess- eyes stained red, and clothes wrinkled. You worry you smell like sex or Joel, running over the nights happening for any chance Joel left a mark on you- not that Tommy would notice that.

“I was getting worried about you.”

You toss your keys on the end table, throwing off your shoes with a sarcastic huff. “That’s ironic.” Tommy cringes. For once, you’re the closed-off one, too emotionally hardened or drained for his antics.

“I deserve that.”

“Ya think?” You cross your arms.

“Baby…” He eases to his feet. “I’m sorry- for all of it.”

“Sorry? Sorry! What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Tommy!”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It reminds you of Joel. The thought makes your blood run cold. “I don’t know.”

A humorless laugh leaves your throat. “You don’t know?”

“What the fuck can I say? I fucked up. Quite frankly, I don’t know why you’re still here!”

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!”

“Why!?”

The question catches you off guard. “What the fuck do you mean? ‘Why?’”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Wow, you’re on a roll tonight.” Your eyes roll.

“I mean it.”

“Do you want me to leave, Tommy?” Yours and his transgressions filter before your eyes, making you cringe. Two wrongs don’t make a right. “You're done with me and you can’t bring yourself to say it?”

“I’m not good enough for you anymore!” Tears swell in his eyes. “I’ve done nothing but hurt you! But I can’t let you go!”

“I don’t want you to let me go, you big idiot!”

“Why?”

Your eyes flutter shut as you take a deep breath. Joel behind your eyelids. His stability. His care. His love. You could have that, but it would never quench your longing for Tommy. For better or worse, he’s yours. You want him even if it’s bad for you. “I don’t know.”

Tommy enters your space. His arms slip around your waist, eliciting a soft gasp from a place inside you you thought long gone.

“You still believe in me?” He presses his forehead against yours. The callus on your heart starts to lift away, easier than you want to admit. He’s still in there somewhere, the man you fell in love with. You’re seeing more of him than you have in a long time. His hands feel hot against your back and he tugs you closer. You’re compliant under his touch. Whatever he wants from you, you’ll let him have it if he��ll just stays like this.

You sniff back the tears, head nodding. “Yeah. I think I always will.”

“Let me make it better. I’m going to do better, Baby.” His breath is hot on your ear, lips pressing right behind it, and then to the corner of your jaw. Your body takes over as you lean into his touch. “I’m going to be here and present for you and Nathaniel.”

“You promise?” If the Tommy you fell in love with comes back to you, you won’t survive losing him again. You feel his hands in places he’s not even touching, heat sprouting all over your body.

“I promise, Baby.” He kisses your cheek and then your forehead.

You feel the pull of his current tugging you back under, clouding your judgment. You should send him packing or at least to the guest room until you wash his brother’s scent from your skin, but your body calls for him. Tommy’s touch is your addiction, your late nights running wild, your stint in prison.

His breath fans over your face and before you know it, you’re pulling his lips to yours. The undertow sweeps you away, tugging you under the surface. Tommy’s never been the safe option, but you never claimed to need safe.

He tugs you up the stairs. The lock on your bedroom door clicks and he’s on you like a starved man, hands wreaking havoc on your body, pulling clothing from your body like pretty wrapping paper on christmas morning. It doesn’t matter that you were sated well over an hour ago, your body responds to Tommy like a horny teenager. He knows you. He knows how to touch your body just right, he knows exactly how to make you writhe and moan and scream, and he hasn’t forgotten either. He plans to put his memory to good use tonight.

Your hands are as ravenous as his, tugging his hair, at the buttons of his shirt, and pants. His teeth scrapes your bottom lip before he lays you down on the bed, bared to him and the moon streaming through the curtains. He smiles at you. It’s breathtaking.

He takes his dear, sweet time with you, pulling you apart piece by piece and gluing you back together. Each time your brain dares to wonder into forbidden territory, he reminds you why he’s your husband, that he still knows you better than anyone else. It erases the rest of the night from your memory and the last two years until it’s just you and him, coming together as one like it was always meant to be. You and him. Bonnie and Clyde.

He finishes deep inside of you, a feeling you’ve missed. All of it you’ve missed. His skin on yours, sweat mingling together. You lay there staring up at him in awe. He locks eyes with you. He’s there. Your Tommy. The Tommy you see every time you think about him, with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.

He leans down, lips pressing to your forehead. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “I never want to be the cause of these again.”

“Let’s be real, Tommy, you made me cry even when things were good.”

He chuckles, falling beside you. His chest moves with his heavy panting. You think he might be the most handsome man you’ve ever met. “Yeah, suppose I did.”

“You’re gonna try, for real?”

“I’ll probably fuck up here and there.” He gathers you into his arms, skin pressed to skin as you breathe in the same air.

“I know you will.” You tease. He scowls, but it’s all in good fun. Another flash of fresh air, a promise that things could go back to normal.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You laugh, fingers tangling in his black waves. His hair has gotten so long. You wonder if he’ll keep it this way. “It’s gonna take at least that.”

He nods, a hint of seriousness showing in his face. “I know.”

And you know he means it.

“I think you should go to that group Micky mentioned. You need people who understand.”

Tommy shifts slightly. He doesn’t like the idea. That much is clear. “Baby…”

“This is how you do better, Tommy.” The firmness in your voice catches you off guard. Tommy too.

He nods, Adam's Apple bobbing. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Every week?”

“Every week.”

The next morning, you wake up the same way you fell asleep, in your husband’s arms.

Tommy never says a word, but he smells it on you that night. Something familiar, but out of place. It doesn’t belong on you, but he can’t put his finger on it. He knows what it means. He’s no idiot, and he doesn’t blame you for any of it. He’s had his indiscretions. Lord knows you’re allowed yours.

You sit on the front porch with your coffee the next morning, the creaking of the porch swing playing in the background of your racing mind. You feel guilty for all of it. What you did to Tommy. What you did to Joel. But more so, you feel guilty because you know you can keep this buried for the rest of your life if it means keeping Tommy, and you’re pretty sure it makes you no better than him. At least Tommy had the balls to own up to what he did, but Joel isn’t some random girl at a bar. He’s your friend. Tommy’s brother. If it had been some random man, you could own up to it, but not this. Not Joel.

“Aunt Bonnie!”

The familiar voice pulls you from your thoughts as Sarah waves from the sidewalk, other hand clutched tightly in Joel’s.

“Hey!” You force a smile to your face, waving back to her as they climb the porch stairs. She rushes over to you, arms open to give you a hug. You return the gesture, crushing her against your frame. “What’s up?”

“We’re just walking. I wanted to come say hi.”

You kiss her cheek. “Well I feel honored. Nathaniel and Uncle Tommy are inside if you want to say hi to them too.”

“Okay,” Sarah returns your kiss, curls bouncing behind her as she darts inside.

You keep your eyes focused off to the side as Joel’s footsteps draw closer. Your finger plays along the rim of your coffee mug. You feel small, like a child in trouble. Joel eases next to you on the swing, shoulder brushing yours as he does. You bite your lip, knee bouncing softly.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says. “I shouldn’t have let that happen last night.”

Your eyes glaze over. “It’s not all on you.”

“Let it.” Your head snaps toward him. He looks tired, like he didn’t sleep much last night. He clasps his hands together, leaning over his knees. “You weren’t in a good place. I took advantage of that. Let it be my fault.”

Tears glaze over your eyes. He’s giving you an out.

“Joel…”

He nods at you, a silent assurance. You shouldn’t take it, but you do. You lean into it, and it covers the guilt some, even if it’s all lies. You knew what you were doing.

He kisses your forehead as the words leave your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Darlin.” More lies to make you feel less guilty. He’ll feed them to you as long as you need him to.

He stands up, eyes flickering between your door and the way back to his house.

“I can walk Sarah home later.”

“Thanks.” He nods before leaving your front porch. He doesn’t look back.

Things with Tommy don’t magically get better overnight. Life doesn’t work that way. It takes time. It’s gradual, sometimes it feels like you’re moving backward, but slowly Tommy comes back into himself. He’s never the exact man you fell in love with, the one you married, but you’re not the same person either. Time changes things. People grow, but with some work, you find new versions of yourselves that still fit together. Most importantly, this new version is still your Tommy.

Your memories with Joel don’t go away. You keep them tucked deep in your soul, but the two of you find your new rhythm, your friendship too important to lose.

One Year Later

The five of you gather at Joel’s on Sunday morning for breakfast, rotating houses each week. It’s a carry over from the routine you and Joel developed. It’s different, obviously. You and Nathaniel don’t stay the night. It takes time for Tommy to find his place in the well oiled unit the two of you became. It feels awkward and clunky at times, but you get through it and slowly the kinks work themselves out.

Joel bounds down the stairs, hair wet from his shower as he joins you and Tommy around the coffee pot.

“Figured y'all would have breakfast ready by now,” Joel says, squeezing next to Tommy to get to the coffee.

“Last I checked, we’re guests in your house,” you say, quirking an eyebrow, teasing lilt in your voice. Joel’s eyes roll but a smirk quirks his lips none the less.

Tommy hears a ringing in his ears as the scent of Joel’s body wash filters through his senses, still strong on his brother’s skin. His eyes narrow at your and Joel’s banter. There’s nothing unusual about it. He knows you two are close. It doesn’t bother him, but he knows that scent. His mind pulls it from the fading archives quickly. He smelled it on you that night.

Tommy sets his mug down, not saying anything as you and Joel go back and forth over breakfast traditions, the two of you falling into predetermined roles in the kitchen. You dance around each other, like a sixth sense, always knowing where the other one is and where they’re going.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy’s not sure how he hadn’t caught it before. Maybe his brain wasn’t ready. He’s lived a lot of his recent life in a fog, maybe it had just cleared enough now.

He doesn’t catch any longing glances or stolen touches. Everything is above board. He knows he has no right to be angry, not after what he's done. He’d pushed you away. Maybe he even pushed you into Joel’s bed that night. Maybe there were nights before, but he hasn’t smelled another man, hasn’t smelled Joel on your skin since. You’ve spent every night next to him, in his arms, body pressed against his. At the end of the day, that’s all he needs.

He can get past the hurt like you did for him. He can push away the questions. How long did you wait? How often did you find solace in his brother’s bed? He wants to ignore the questions, stomp them down so they don’t fester, don’t ruin what you’ve helped him rebuild.

“Daddy?” Nathaniel tugs on Tommy’s shirt, pulling him from his thoughts.

He smiles, pulling his son into his arms with an exaggerated groan. At five and a half, it won’t be much longer before he’s too big to pick up. It hits again, like a sledgehammer to a cinderblock wall, how much of his son’s life he’s missed. Nathaniel laughs, pressing his forehead to Tommy’s. Is there a sweeter sound in this world?

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“I love you.” He whisper yells.

Tommy chuckles mimicking Nathaniel’s tone. “I love you too.”

Your laugh floats through. Tommy looks up to find you smiling at them, so much love and affection sparkling in your eyes. Something stirs in him, possessiveness, maybe as he strides across the room, shifting Nathaniel to his side so he can pull you flush against him. You melt against him. That’s how he knows, knows you’re still his and he's yours. He won’t ever say a word. He won’t risk losing you again or causing you more grief than he has.

Tommy grins at you, voice lowering to a growl. “And I love you, Momma.” Then he kisses you like he’d reclaiming you.

Neither of you catches the way Joel turns his back and puts himself out of ear shot. You never catch the way his gaze lingers. He conceals the way his fingers itch to touch you like he used to.

Nathaniel squeals in disgust, sliding out of his father’s arms. You both share a laugh and then both Tommy’s arms are tightly around your waist, lips pressed to yours again. Your hands rake through his long curls.

As long as you still look at him like that, continue to touch him like that, Tommy doesn’t care that you fucked his brother. Your heart belongs to him.

Taglist: @pamasaur@alltheotps@rizzraa@moel-jiller@misstokyo7love

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@theorakaenslayer

#high infidelity (joel miller)#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories

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skyward-floored · 2 days

Text

Glasses

(Incredibles au)

...

“They’re back!”

At Wind’s shout, Wild shot up and bolted outside to the car pulling into their driveway, slightly using his speed even though he wasn’t supposed to. Four didn’t even have time to tell him to wait before his older brother was hanging off Twilight’s arm and shaking him.

Four felt a flash of annoyance as Wind ran ahead of him as well, but he stuffed it down and ran out to join them, and arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Wind and Wild’s begging.

“Where is it Twi? I want to see your photo! Warriors said they always look bad, I want to see! Let me see it!” they hounded simultaneously, but Twilight only brushed Wild’s hand off his arm with a morose look.

“I didn’t get it.”

Wild stopped in his tracks, and Four and Wind looked at each other, then back at Twilight.

“You... you didn’t get it? Why? How?” Wild said incredulously. “It’s a learner’s permit! They’re like, impossible not to get!”

“How did that happen?” Four asked in confusion.

“Apparently I can’t see well enough to drive,” Twilight mumbled, putting his hands in his pockets. “They said I have to get glasses if I want one.”

“Glasses?!”

Twilight nodded glumly, and his brothers looked at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you need glasses, your vision is great!” Four said with no small indignation on his brother’s behalf, and Twilight just sighed.

“Apparently it’s not good enough to pass the vision test for driving,” he said as Time also got out of the car. “I have to get them, or no learner’s permit.”

“But that’s not fair!” Wind cried, and Time put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s to keep the roads safe, Wind. You wouldn’t want someone who could barely see driving a car next to you, would you?” their father asked, and Wind relented a little.

“...okay, I guess not. But Twi can see fine! He’s never had trouble with looking at stuff!”

“I just barely didn’t pass,” Twilight grumbled. “I swear that lady had it out for me, I think she made the pictures blurrier on purpose.”

“Well we’ll see when we take you in for a proper eye appointment,” Time sighed, and Twilight nodded, still looking disappointed. Their father went inside, and Four watched as Twilight followed him, shoulders slumped and ears drooping.

“Poor Twi,” Wild said, shaking his head in disbelief. Four had to agree.

What a way to find out you needed glasses. And how could Twilight need glasses anyway? His vision was fine!

...then again, now that Four was thinking about it, sometimes Twilight did have some trouble seeing farther away stuff...

Well. It was still unfair.

“Well maybe he won’t actually need them,” Wind piped up. “He said the lady there didn’t like him, right? Maybe she was exaggerating, and when he goes to the eye doctor there won’t be anything wrong!”

“Maybe,” Four said doubtfully.

“Well... I’m gonna go see if Mom has cake ingredients,” Wild said as he began to walk back in the house. “Cake makes everything better.”

“Better make it carrot cake,” Wind said as he followed him. “It’ll help with Twi’s eyes.”

Four raised an eyebrow. “Wind, that’s not a real thing.”

“Well it might be, you never know!”

(...)

A week later, the three of them were once again waiting at the window when Twilight got out of the car, and Wild ran to greet him, Wind and Four trailing behind. This time though, Twilight didn’t even look at any of them, brushing past Wild and turning into a wolf the moment he was safely inside.

“Uh oh,” Four said, and they all looked at their father as he got out of the car.

Time wordlessly held up a glasses case.

“Oh no, poor Twi,” Wind moaned, and Wild looked back at the house. “The carrot cake didn’t work!”

“Wind you didn’t seriously think that was going to help, did you?” Four asked as he raised an eyebrow, and Wind shrugged.

“Well I was hoping for Twilight’s sake.”

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Wild said, but his father snagged his shirt before he could run off, shaking his head.

“Not right now, Wild, he’s not in the best mood. You can talk to him later,” Time said. “Give him some space for now.”

Wild nodded, and Time released his shirt, Four hearing him let out a sigh. Then he walked into the house, probably to tell their mother about the glasses. Legend scooted past him as he walked in, and joined his brothers on the lawn, scratching at his hat.

“I’m guessing by the grumpy wolf in our living room that Twilight didn’t have a good time at the eye doctor?” he asked.

“He got glasses,” Wind reported solemnly, and Legend blinked.

“...That’s all? Sheesh, you’d think he was going blind or something the way he looked at me and ‘rule. Why’s he so upset? They’re just glasses.”

“Are you kidding? Do you remember back when that one guy in Twi’s class got glasses? Everybody teased him, you wouldn’t want to be called four-eyes all the time, would you?” Wild said, then looked at Four. “No offense.”

Four shrugged, unbothered by the phrase (it wasn’t like he had glasses), and Legend raised an eyebrow. “But I thought he just has them for driving, he won’t even need them at school.”

“Unless his eyesight gets worse,” Four pointed out, and Wind elbowed him. “Ow, just sayin’.”

Four rubbed his side as they all began to trail back inside, and Wild scratched his head thoughtfully. “What I don’t get is that I thought wolves had good eyesight,” he said, looking confused. “How does Twilight need glasses if that’s true?”

Four perked up. “Well, they have good all-around vision, but their distance vision isn’t as good as Hylians. They can see movement pretty far away, but not clear details, plus the colors are a bit more muted then what we see,” he rattled off, and his brothers all stared at him. Four coughed. “...I got a wolf book from the library the other week.”

“Well anyway, I bet he’ll get used to the glasses,” Legend shrugged as he kicked his shoes off and walked away. “I’m just not looking forward to him being all mopey in the meantime though.”

A few of them nodded in agreement, and Four peeked into the living room. Twilight was flopped on the floor with his head sitting on his paws, and when he noticed Four looking, he got up and plodded away, tail drooping.

His brothers all watched him pad away, then looked at each other.

“...You’d better make another cake, Wild.”

(...)

Nobody saw much of Twilight the rest of the day, though Four tried to search him out a few times. He obviously wasn’t in the mood to be consoled, and Four went to bed that night wondering if he could do anything to help him.

He couldn’t take away Twilight’s glasses, but there had to be something he could do.

But what?

When Four woke up the next morning he hadn’t had any brilliant ideas, but went he into the bathroom, he found Twilight staring at himself in the mirror, a pair of glasses on his face.

Four froze, then hesitantly walked forward, studying his brother. Twilight flicked an ear at the sound of his footsteps, but didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at himself.

“Morning Twi,” Four ventured, leaning on the counter.

“Mornin’,” Twilight replied distantly, still staring at his reflection.

Four studied him for a second in silence, a bit struck at the unfamiliar figure in the mirror. It was still Twilight, but the glasses changed his appearance a fair amount. Having the frames on his face made Twilight look a little odd already, but he also looked... older, somehow, like he was an adult or something.

...Four wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“You’re trying on your glasses, huh?” Four asked after a minute, and Twilight nodded.

“Yeah. The doctor said I should wear them around so I’m used to them before I try and get my learner’s again or anything.”

“Well they look fine to me,” Four said, and Twilight gave him a half-smile.

“Thanks Smithy,” he said as Wild walked in, their other brother pausing as he grabbed his toothbrush.

“Whoa, weird. They make you look older,” Wild said, tilting his head and staring. “Like... kinda like Dad? But with glasses.”

“Dad with glasses. Thanks Wild,” Twilight snorted, but he didn’t look too bothered. Maybe he’s feeling better about them?

“Well what did you want me to say? That you look like a nerd?” Wild asked, and Twilight gave him a flat look.

“No, actually. Thanks.”

“Well he does kinda look like a nerd,” Legend said as he wandered in, drawn by the sound of their conversation. “A nice nerd. The kind that knows how to do calculus but still cries at baby birds— ack!”

While Legend was speaking, Twilight had reached over and grabbed him.

Four ducked out of the way while Legend tried to escape, and Wild laughed as Twilight noogied his brother, somehow managing to make Legend’s bedhead even messier.

“Alright alright stoppit! I take it back, you don’t look like a nerd!” Legend squawked, and Twilight released him, dusting his hands off. Legend grumpily smoothed his hair down, then smirked a little. “...they do make you look like some old dusty professor though.”

Twilight grabbed at him again, but Legend ducked and turned invisible, laughter and rapid footsteps quickly retreating from the room. Twilight huffed, and as he looked back at Wild and Four, Wild quickly muffled his laughter.

“Ah whatever, go ahead and laugh,” Twilight said with an eye roll. “I know they make me look dorky.”

Four frowned at the hint of bitterness in his voice. Okay, so maybe he isn’t feeling better about them after all. “I don’t think they make you look dorky,” he defended, and Wild nodded, starting in on brushing his teeth.

“I fink they make youwook fmart,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “Wike a fwibrarian or somefwin.”

“Like a Librarian. Right. Just the look I want,” Twilight sighed, and he looked at himself in the mirror again.

Wild finished brushing and spat, and Four caught Twilight’s sleeve, making sure he was looking.

“Don’t listen to Legend, he’s just being dumb,” Four said. “And Wild. I think the glasses look nice, they don’t make you look bad.”

“Hey, I never said they looked bad,” Wild defended, and Twilight snorted.

“You kinda implied it.”

“Okay well maybe I did, but I wasn’t trying to.” Twilight still looked unimpressed. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you; if anyone at school gives you trouble, I’ll beat them up,” Wild said with a grin as he pounded his fist into his palm.

“No, nope, no fights at school,” Twilight said, but there was a faint smile on his face. “I appreciate the thought, though. Thanks Wild. And you too, Four.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Wild said with some finger guns, though the effect was a bit ruined by the toothpaste on his chin. Then he zipped off, and Twilight and Four were left alone again.

Twilight glanced at the mirror and his smile fell a bit, and Four frowned. “Hey Twi?”

“Yeah?” his older brother asked, and Four nudged him.

“I think you look nice. For real. The glasses make you look... mature. Smart,” Four said. “And I’d split now and tell you with four people except Red would probably cry and I don’t want to look like I’ve been crying.”

Twilight chuckled, and gave his hair a bit of a ruffle. “No worries. Thanks Four.”

Four smiled. “You’re welcome.”

The two of them finished in the bathroom then, Four still keeping an eye on Twilight. He still didn’t seem too happy about the glasses, giving his reflection an uneasy look as they left the bathroom, but at least he seemed more cheery overall as they went downstairs. That was a win in Four’s book.

And if anyone at school did give Twilight any flack about the glasses... well.

Maybe Wild’s idea wasn’t such a bad one.

#set sometime after the movie-ish #linkeduniverse #linked universe #incredibles au #lu twilight #lu four #lu Wild #linked universe fic #incredibles au fic #writing from the floor #also #based somewhat off a true story #my poor sister XD #anyways I did my research on wolf vision but I apologize if the stuff here is incorrect #looking up ‘are wolves nearsighted’ didn’t get many results unfortunately

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